Chapter II: Back on Earth

“Talk about results!” Billie was first to speak. “Why--where do you suppose I found myself? Out in mid-ocean, in a small boat, with the spray flying into my--that is, into the face of--” She broke off, confused.

“Your agent?” the doctor put in. All Billie could do was to nod; Van Emmon was bursting to talk.

“My agent was a Parisian apache, or I’m a bum guesser! I didn’t catch all that was going on, but it certainly sounded like the plans and specifications of a garroting!”

“No such excitement here,” said Smith. But his eyes were sparkling. “I was going the rounds with a mail-carrier. How do you explain that, doc? I’ve never given mail-carrying a second thought.”

“That would have nothing to do with it. As for myself, I was looking through the eyes of some member of the House of Representatives, in Washington. I recognized the building. They were calling the roll at the time.”

He paused while he made a note of the incident, for the sake of checking up the hour with the newspaper accounts later on. Then he rubbed the knuckles of one hand in the palm of the other--a habit which indicated that a diagnosis was going on in his mind. The others waited expectantly.

“There’s a big difference,” commented he, thoughtfully, “between these experiences and our last experiments. Then, each of us knew exactly what to expect. Each had a definite image of a certain particular person in mind when he went into the teleconscious state. That made it comparatively easy for us to communicate the way we did, even when you”--indicating the bride and groom--”were still in Japan.

“But to-day neither of us had the slightest idea what was coming. That is, if we followed the rule. Did you”--addressing Smith--”take care to concentrate strictly upon the one idea of view-point?”

“Nothing else. I kept my attention fixed upon eyes and ears, only, just as the instructions read.”

“Same here,” answered Billie, for herself and the geologist.

“Then we know this much: So long as the four of us are connected up in this fashion”--holding up his braceleted wrists--”we combine our forces to such an extent that we do not need a definite object. It’s simply the power of harmony.”

Billie was anxious to get it down pat. “In other words, there’s nothing to prevent me from locating some one, although unknown to me, so long as we four agree upon the same locality?”

“That’s it exactly. If we agree to concentrate upon Greenland, even, we shall find four people there whose view-points resemble our own. The main thing is to find similar view-points.”

There was some discussion along this line, in which the doctor made it clear that view-point was simply another name for perspective, and that it had nothing whatever to do with actual mental accomplishments. The view-point was really the soul.

“As yet,” he went on, “we should make no attempt to ‘put ourselves in the other fellow’s place.’ Such efforts require a violent exertion of the imagination, and we need practice before tackling the more advanced problems.

“Time enough, after a while, to get in touch with the Venusians. There’s none of them that has a view-point like ours. And once we’ve done that--”

“What?” from Billie, breathlessly.

“Anything! The whole universe will be open to us! Why, I understand from reading these books”--indicating the Venusian manuscripts--”that there is such a thing as an intelligent creature, so utterly unlike ourselves that--” He stopped short.