Boyd gave a short, mirthless bark. “Funny?” he said. “I’m absolutely hysterical with joy and good humor. I’m out of my mind with happiness.” He paused. “Anyway,” he finished, “I’m out of my mind. Which puts me in good company. The entire FBI, Brubitsch, Borbitsch, Garbitsch, Dr. Thomas O’Connor and Sir Lewis Carter—we’re all out of our minds. If we weren’t, we’d all move away to the moon.” “And drink to forget,” Malone added. “Sure. But let’s try and get some work done.” “By all means, Sir Kenneth,” Her Majesty said. Boyd had not included her in his list of insane people, and she looked slightly miffed. It was hard for Malone to tell whether she was miffed by the mention of insanity, or at being left out. “Let’s review the facts,” Malone said. “This whole thing started with some inefficiency in Congress.” “And some upheavals elsewhere,” Boyd said. “Labor unions, gangster organizations.” “Just about all over,” Malone said. “And though we’ve found three spies, it seems pretty obvious that they aren’t causing this.” “They aren’t causing much of anything,” Boyd said. “Except a lot of unbelieving laughter further up the FBI line. I don’t think anybody is going to believe our reports of those interviews.” “But they’re true,” Her Majesty said. “Sure they’re true,” Boyd said. “That’s the unbelievable part. They read like farce, and not very good farce at that.” “Oh, I don’t know,” Malone said. “I think they’re pretty funny.” “Shall we get back to the business at hand?” Her Majesty said gently. “Ah,” Malone said. “Anyhow, it isn’t the spies. And what we now have is confusion even worse compounded.” “Confounded,” Boyd said. “John Milton. _Paradise Lost_, I heard it somewhere.” “I don’t mean confounded,” Malone said. “I mean confusion. Anyhow, the Russian espionage rings in this country seem to be in as bad a state as the Congress, the labor unions, the syndicates, and all the rest. And all of them seem to have some sort of weird tie-in to these flashes of telepathic interference. Right, Your Majesty?” “I believe so, Sir Kenneth,” she said. The old woman looked tired and confused. Somehow, a lot of the brightness seemed to have gone out of her life. “That’s right,” she said. “I didn’t realize there was so much of it going on. You see, Sir Kenneth, you’re the only one I can pick up at a distance who has been having these flashes. But now that I’m here in Washington, I can feel it going on all around me.” “It may not have anything to do with everything else,” Boyd said. Malone shook his head. “If it doesn’t,” he said, “it’s the weirdest coincidence I’ve ever even dreamed about, and my dreams can be pretty strange. No, it’s got to be tied in. There’s some kind of mental static that is somehow making all these people goof up.” “But why?” Boyd said. “What is it being done for? Just fun?” “God only knows,” Malone said. “But we’re going to have to find out.” “In that case,” Boyd said, “I suggest lots and lots of prayers.”