Ye of Little Faith Read online

him. So differenthe had systematically disguised it by a front of acceptedbehavior--systematically and consciously, under his father's guidance.

  There was a chance those differences made him safe. There was a chancethose differences would make it possible for him to find out what causedthe others to vanish, without he himself vanishing.

  The other train of thought inserted itself into consciousness again. Wasbelief the key to the disappearances?

  * * * * *

  Mark Smythe hadn't paid attention when the theory was being explained.The others had undoubtedly lapped it up. The peculiar thing about thetheory was that it was so logical and so inevitable that the mind tendedto accept it, believe it to be true in spite of the evidence of thesenses.

  Let us suppose, Fred mused, that deep within the mind there is somematrix of thought that ties the human to this universe. A matrix thatcould conceivably be altered, and when altered would automatically shiftthe person to another universe that the altered matrix fitted.

  The subconscious usually took time to absorb and react. That was anotherthing his father had taught him to observe. Learn something, and ittakes from days to months for it to become lodged in the subconsciousand to rise into operation naturally from there.

  John Henderson had taken six weeks to vanish after having learned thetheory. It had taken Horace Smith three and a half days, but he had hadthe added factor of Dr. Henderson's disappearance to trigger reactions.The theoretical physics class had taken three days exactly, and itsvanishing had been a sort of group action or chain reaction, withintensely emotional reaction after the first student had vanished beforethe eyes of the others.

  His own father, originator of the theory, had probably fallen into thetrap of starting to believe after Horace had vanished, so it became agreater probability that the disappearance was related to knowledge ofthe theory. Seeing the students vanish had probably set up an emotionalstate where complete belief was precipitated.

  In the whole series the only improbable part was that so many studentswould react in the same short time. That was partly nullified by thefact that it was a special class, and only high I.Q. students withexcellent records were accepted. They would tend to be somewhatidentical in reaction times.

  He straightened up and stared through the windshield at the dark street.So there it was, the probable mechanism of vanishment. A system was fedinto the conscious mind. The conscious mind accepted it. In due timethat system was transferred down into the matrix that held the person inthis reality or universe. Once there, it made the whole person_transfer_ to a system where the altered matrix fitted. It might not bethe system pictured in his father's theory. It might be a compromisesystem.

  _Where_ and _when_ probably had no meaning in relation to the twosystems. That was why, when the shift came, the person vanishedinstantly without any strange manifestations of any kind.

  Was it reversible? If so, then some of those who had vanished wouldreappear eventually.

  A sudden, startling thought made Fred sit up straight, his eyes shiningwith excitement. So far he had been safe mainly because he habituallydidn't attach belief to anything. His other facet of difference might bethe means of his testing this without real danger of vanishing.

  Could he dredge up from the deepest layers of unconscious thought, thethreads leading directly to the matrix that held him in his surroundingsand learn consciously what it was?

  A thought. He reflected on it, then decided before he made any decisionshe would explore the other avenue, the one the police had naturallythought of.

  Was there some person or persons unknown in back of the disappearances?Some non-human, perhaps? It could fit into the same theory ofdisappearance. Another universe, beings in that universe. Beings whoperhaps didn't want knowledge of their universe to become known on thisside of the veil.

  If so, why hadn't _they_ snatched him too? Maybe they didn't know heknew about the theory. He'd never talked about it to anyone. But hisfather had drilled it into him as a supreme example of the reasons whybelief in anything was a trap.

  He shook his head. It didn't seem likely that the disappearances hadbeen engineered by anyone. They smacked too much of an inner pattern, aninner mechanism.

  So he came back to the other theory. What could he try to accomplish byexploring into his deepest substratum of thought? The ideal he could aimfor would be conscious transfer into the other system with the assurancebefore-hand that he could transfer back again. If he could do that, andif he could find those who had vanished, maybe he could teach them howto return.

  It was something that might take a long time, he realized. His firstobjective was to penetrate deeper into his mind than anyone had everconsciously gone before. That alone could take a lifetime. Or it mightbe accomplished overnight.

  How would he begin? Where would he begin? he shrugged. It didn't matter.He would have to systematically extend his ability to be aware in everydirection, physical and temporal, until he could be conscious of hisindividual blood cells if it were possible, and completely and vividlyconscious, at will of every second of his past life. If that didn't leadhim to his objective, it might at least point the way and increase hisability to reach his goal.

  That evening, Fred arrived home to find a stranger seated in thelibrary. There was the usual moment of clumsiness such encountersgenerate, but Fred's mother returned with a tea tray beforeself-introductions became necessary. She said, "Mr. Gaard, this is myson, Fred."

  The man smiled easily as Mrs. Grant continued, speaking now to Fred."This is Curt Gaard, Fred. I called on him today and what do you think Idiscovered. He was a friend--a very old friend--of your father." Mrs.Grant stopped, a certain inward uncertainty showing through.

  Fred stood mute, giving voice to none of the questions which sprang upin his mind. Curt Gaard, completely at ease, took up the lead. Even as afeeling of familiarity sprang into Fred's mind, Gaard said, "I _knew_your father--met him several times--but we weren't as close as yourmother's words might imply."

  Then Fred knew. He spoke suddenly. "You're a psychiatrist." The piecesfell into place. Fred's father had mentioned this man several times, andthe boy knew he was not there by chance--that his mother had contactedthe psychiatrist--this particular one because she too had remembered theacquaintanceship. For a moment, Fred was annoyed with his mother. Why onearth had she brought a psychiatrist into this? Then he softened as herealized she felt it to be to her son's best interests.

  "Yes, I'm a psychiatrist," Gaard said. Then, as though he could readFred's mind: "Your mother _did_ send for me, but so far as I'mconcerned, it's more than just a professional visit. I knew your fatherand liked him. I'd like to be your friend."

  "You plan to psychoanalyze me?"

  "Don't be so grim about it," Curt Gaard smiled. "Just let's make this asocial visit. There will be plenty of time for other things later.Perhaps you can drop in at my office."

  "Perhaps," Fred said, almost absently. A short time later he excusedhimself and went to his room.

  * * * * *

  "Mrs. Grant?" Mr. Browne said, smiling at the woman behind the screendoor. "I'm Mr. Browne the publisher."

  "Browne?" she said. "Oh yes. My hus--husband has mentioned you."

  "Favorably, I hope?" Browne was wondering if Dr. Grant had told her ofhis decision not to let the book be published.

  "Oh yes, very favorably." She frowned. "Which reminds me. He received acheck from you for the advance royalties. I'm sure he didn't cash itbecause there was no deposit at the bank that large. I can't find thecheck anywhere. He must have had it with him when--"

  She had opened the screen door. Browne went in and followed her into thestudy. He looked around at the walls of books, almost feeling thepresence of the man whose retreat this had been.

  "That's what I've come here to see you about," Browne said. "You see, hecalled on me at my office the morning of the day he vanished."

  "He did?"

  "Yes. I'm
going to be quite frank with you. He returned the check tome."

  "Why? He said nothing to me about it."

  "I rather imagine he didn't have time. I've waited, knowing you wouldn'tcare to discuss business so soon after--" He waited for her reaction.When she said nothing he continued. "He returned the check and said hedidn't want the book published after all. I couldn't quite understandhis reasons, but they are no longer valid as I see it."

  "What were his reasons? This surprises me very much. Just the day beforethat he mentioned his book and expressed pleasure that it was beingpublished."

  "The reasons he gave were that the book contained some things thatwere--to use his own words--a trifle crackpottish. He thought they