or social consciousness. Every man's
unconsciousness is back in the jungle, before civilization--and we've
given that alien thing the greatest power that could exist when we
wake up the psi power."

"Meinzer thought it was controlled, for a while," Ellen said. "He came
when Dan and I called him. I went with him up to your apartment, while
Dan got the men to carry you away. But we couldn't reach you--Meinzer
barely touched the tape-recorder when something seemed to pick us up
and drive us out of the room and down the stairs. We were just going
back when you came out."

She shuddered, and Hawkes nodded. He'd obviously used that psi factor
to throw off the drugs at the first sign of anyone near him. He told
them sickly what had happened to the old man.

"So I killed him," he finished bitterly.

Dan shook his head. "No. Your psi factor works differently. You
control heat and radiation, you can move yourself or any object in
space for almost any distance, instantly if you want, and it seems you
can do the same through time. But you can't disintegrate things, as
Meinzer could. He had a suicide urge--we knew that before. When it got
out of control again, he blew himself up--just as your dominant urge
to protect yourself did all those things around you."

* * * * *

Hawkes grimaced. It wasn't pleasant to know, that he'd been doing all
the things he'd blamed on monsters. He'd somehow remembered that
someone was supposed to come to get him, and he'd run out in wild
fear, while his unconscious mind blasted the apartment with heat to
destroy all traces. He'd blasted down the subway entrance with another
bolt of energy to make his getaway. The poor cat had surprised him,
and been killed. His unconsciousness gone wild had tossed Dan's car
two hundred feet to the roof of the garage. When it found him losing
control emotionally with Ellen, it hadn't let his conscious brain give
it the information it needed--it had simply thrown him completely off
Earth, pulled air to him, and warmed the rocks. Then, when it found
the Moon unfit for life, it had thrown him back to his own world. It
had tossed him hours back in time this morning, and lifted him into
the air while it pelted his "enemies" with rocks, and built a wall
around him by throwing the bullets back instantly.

And it had somehow clung to the implanted idea that he must not find
out about himself. It had destroyed anything where the written wor