He went on, “I am hoping that the reason all three of you have come to the Convention is to hear my paper day after tomorrow.”

“Your paper? What paper?” asked Talliaferro.

“I wrote you all about it. My method of mass-transference.”

Ryger smiled with one corner of his mouth. “Yes, you did. You didn’t say anything about a paper, though, and I don’t recall that you’re listed as one of the speakers. I would have noticed it if you had been.”

“You’re right. I’m not listed. Nor have I prepared an abstract for publication.”

Villiers had flushed and Taliaferro said soothingly, “Take it easy, Villiers. You don’t look well.”

Villiers whirled on him, lips contorted. “My heart’s holding out, thank you.”

Kaunas said, “Listen, Villiers, if you’re not listed or abstracted—”

“Youlisten. I’ve waited ten years. You have the jobs in space and I have to teach school on Earth, but I’m a better man than any of you or all of you.”

“Granted—” began Talliaferro.

“And I don’t want your condescension either. Mandel witnessed it. I suppose you’ve heard of Mandel. Well, he’s chairman of the astronautics division at the Convention and I demonstrated mass-transference for him. It was a crude device and it burnt out after one use but—Are you listening?”

“We’re listening,” said Ryger coldly, “for what that counts.”

“He’ll let me talk about it my way. You bet he will. No warning. No advertisement. I’m going to spring it at them like a bombshell. When I give them the fundamental relationships involved it will break up the Convention. They’ll scatter to their home labs to check on me and build devices. And they’ll find it works. I made a live mouse disappear at one spot in my lab and appear in another. Mandel witnessed it.”

He stared at them, glaring first at one face, then at another. He said, “You don’t believe me, do you?”