"Good," said the professor. "Neither do I. But I have a theory. There are more theories than there are phenomena. That always happens. But listen to this theory. The mind reaches into the object on the molecular level, and adjusts the molecules, _so_. The temperature changes. Do you see?" "Not exactly," said Marshall doubtfully. "Neither do I. Never mind. I know lots of theories, none of them make any sense. But they all try to explain." "If you say so," said Marshall. "Yes. I say so. _Now._ As a psychologist, I will tell you something else. This boy has made this a secret, yes? The Scorpion, he calls himself, and, like his heroes of the comic books, he uses his power for good. Shazam, yes? Captain Marvel." "Yes," said Stevenson, nodding emphatically. "Now, what happens if you go to this boy and tell him, 'We know you are the Scorpion? Your secret is out.' What happens then?" "I don't know," said Marshall. "Think," suggested Professor Long. "Batman, let us say, or Superman. Quite apart from fighting crime, what is the major task confronting these heroes? That of maintaining the secrecy of their identity, yes?" The four men nodded. "Now," said Professor Long, "to the mind of a ten-year-old boy, what is the implication? The implication is this: If the secret of the identity is lost the power of the hero is also lost. This is the clear implication. Yes?" "You mean this boy wouldn't be able to do it any more if we went and talked to him?" asked Lang. "I don't say that," cautioned the professor. "I do say this: He will _believe_ that he has lost the power. And this belief may be sufficient to destroy the power. Yes?" "In other words," said Marshall, "you're saying that we can't ask this boy how he manages his stunt, because if we do then he probably won't be able to manage it any more." * * * * * "A distinct possibility," said the professor. "But only a temporary possibility. The drama of the Scorpion will not, I imagine, survive puberty." "But will the _ability_ survive puberty?" "No one can know. No one can even guess." "Now, here's the thing," said Marshall. "Not downgrading your theories at all, Professor, they are nevertheless still only theories. Frankly, given my choice between an impossible machine and a boy with the power to _think_ things hot and cold, I'll give the impossible machine the edge. At this point, accepting the idea of the machine, our next move is simple. We go ask the boy to give it to us. From what you say, we can't even do that." "My best advice," said the professor, "would be to keep the boy under careful surveillance for the next three or four years. Gradually get to know him, carefully work out a long-range program involving his reading habits, the attitudes of his teachers and parents, the sort of external stimuli to which he is--" "Fellas," said Roberts suddenly. "Oh, fellas."