"Listen to this," Boyd said. "'For those who draw the line at demonic possession, I suggest trying telepathic projection. Apparently, it is possible to project one's own thoughts directly into the mind of another--even to the point of taking control of the other's mind. Hypnotism? You tell me, and we'll both know. Ever since the orthodox scientists have come around to accepting hypnotism, I've been chary of it. Maybe there really is an astral body or a soul that a person has stashed about him somewhere--something that he can send out to take control of another human being. But I, personally, prefer the telepathic projection theory. All you have to do is squirt your thoughts across space and spray them all over the fellow's brain. Presto-bingo, he does pretty much what you want him to do.'" "That's the quote I was thinking of," Malone said. "Of course it is," Her Majesty said. "But it really doesn't work. I've tried it." "How have you tried it?" Malone said. "There were many times, Sir Kenneth," Her Majesty said, "when I wanted someone to do something particular--for me, or for some other person. After all, you must remember that I was in a hospital for a long time. Of course, that represents only a short segment of my life span, but it seemed long to me." Malone, who was trying to view the years from age fifteen to age sixty-odd as a short segment of anybody's lifetime, remembered with a shock that this was not Rose Thompson speaking. It was Queen Elizabeth I, who had never died. "That's right, Sir Kenneth," she said kindly. "And in that hospital, there were a number of times when I wanted one of the doctors or nurses to do what I wanted them to. I tried many times, but I never succeeded." Boyd nodded his head. "Well--" he began. "Oh, yes, Sir Thomas," Her Majesty said. "What you're thinking is certainly possible. It may even be true." "What _is_ he thinking?" Malone said. "He thinks," Her Majesty said, "that I may not have the talent for this particular effect--and perhaps I don't. But, talent or not, I know what's possible and what isn't. And the way Mr. Taylor describes it is simply silly, that's all. And unladylike. Imagine any self-respecting lady 'squirting' her thoughts about in space!" "Well," Malone said carefully, "aside from its being unladylike--" "Sir Kenneth," Her Majesty said, "you are not telepathic. Neither is Sir Thomas." "I'm nothing," Boyd said. "I don't even exist." "And it is very difficult to explain to the nontelepath just what Mr. Taylor is implying," Her Majesty went on imperturbably. "Before you could inject any thoughts into anyone else's mind, you'd have to be able to see into that mind. Is that correct?" [Illustration] "I guess so," Malone said. "And in order to do that, you'd have to be telepathic," Her Majesty said. "Am I correct?" "Correct," Malone said. "Well, then," Her Majesty said with satisfaction, and beamed at him. A second passed. "Well, then, what?" Malone said in confusion.