 Adventures in time and space, told in future tense. Dimension! The mind of man is still an unprobed field. Within it lie many mysteries still unsolved. But there are men today, psychologists now experimenting with telepathy, hypnosis, thought-transference, who believe that in the future we may discover the existence of a force of the mind more powerful than any force the world has ever known. We go ahead now in time some ten years, and in space to the campus of a small eastern college, the hour is late. And in one of the dark college buildings, two men stand in front of a door that bears the name Professor Arthur Barnhouse, psychology. Thank you, manager. Here are the keys to the professor's desk and files. I guess you inherit everything now. You might as well dictate a full report while everything's still fresh in your mind. I'll wait and see you home. Oh, no, no, that isn't necessary. I'll be all right. You sure? After what's happened tonight, we wouldn't want you to have an accident, too. Major, after what happened tonight, the whole world is right for an accident. I'm afraid you're right, Clinton. Well, good night. Good night. Pull yourself together, Buster. Easy does it. August 21st, 1960. Restricted report from George Clinton to the Secretary of Defense, Secretary of State, the FBI, National Security Board, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Subject to so-called Barnhouse effect, and Professor Arthur Barnhouse who discovered it. I first met the professor two years ago in the fall of 1958. He was a professor of psychology here at Wilton College, and I was here on an instructor's fellowship in the psych department. They assigned me to be Barnhouse's assistant, and he needed one. He hardly ever remembered to go to a class, and he didn't seem to do anything else either. For three months, I watched him sitting at the desk here in his study. He'd either stare at nothing for hours or fall asleep, nodding over his mess of papers. I couldn't understand it, and it was none of my business. But one day, I thought I'd better give him a shit. What? What? I said it's 2.15, Professor. Don't you want to go to your 2 o'clock class? Don't you undermine your own business? I beg your pardon. Sorry, Clinton, forgive me. I don't know what gets into me. Forget the class. The kids would rather be outdoors anyway. Professor, in that case, I'm sorry I woke you up. It's all right. I just can't seem to get my sleeping done at night. Clinton, what do you know about the international situation? Well, I'm no political scientist, if that's what you mean. I read the papers when I have time. That's the way I've always been. Lately, I've had a look into it. I stay up nights looking into it. Professor, I don't want you to take this personally or anything, but... I wonder if you'd mind if I asked to be transferred. You mean you'd rather work with somebody else in the department? Oh, no, sir. No, sir, it's not that. I think maybe there's a chance for a psychologist to work on that government project. Government project? Oh, yes, that army thing. Yes, sir. They're trying to develop robot pilots for the new fighter rockets so they'll be expendable. Oh, yes, yes. Something else designed to replace men. Yes, sir, and you know it's a funny thing. The robots work just like human brains. They get overworked or overloaded or something, and they have nervous breakdowns. Now, if I could only find out what drives those electronic brains crazy, why, I'd feel that I was... Clinton, if you want to study a brain that's going crazy, never mind the robots. You can go to work on me. What are you talking about, sir? I don't know. I'm either crazy as a bed-bug or a... Clinton, I wish you'd help me find out. Are you serious, Professor? I never was more serious in my life. I'm afraid I'm going out of my mind. Why? What makes you think so? This is what makes me think I'm crazy. Those dice? Clinton, do you know what the odds are against my rolling a seven? Oh, about five or six to one. Watch. Seven. Now, what are the odds against my rolling it again? Twice in a row? Plenty. About a hundred of one, I'd say. Watch. Professor, you're hotter in a $2 pistol. That's funny. That's what they said eight years ago when I first discovered this. Discovered what? This force of the mind. I call it dynamo-psychism. You mean you shove those dice around just by thinking about it? People have always thought there could be a force of the mind. You know that. Fortunately or unfortunately, I've learned to control it. Yeah? How did you happen to find out about this, Professor? Well, it was about ten years ago, back in 1948. I made the mistake of going to a psychologist's convention and in order not to appear on social, I happened to find myself for the first and only time in my life in a dice game. What happened? I didn't have the faintest idea what was expected of me, and someone told me they were all sevens, so I did. Ten of them. But you weren't asked back into that game. That night, in my room, I realized that it simply couldn't have been an accident. I tried to reconstruct the exact scene, the position of my body and finally the thoughts in my mind. And that was what did it. I remembered what had been my train of thought, and I proceeded to roll sevens, not ten consecutive times, but fifty. Brother, there it is again. Professor, can you do anything else? I mean, besides shove dice around. You see that inkwell on my desk? Sure. Watch it. Don't take your eyes off it. If nothing happens, say so, and I shall go quietly, even happily to the nearest sanitarium. Okay, Professor, shoot. Hey, it just blew up. Yes, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to splash ink on your suit. That's okay, Professor. What was that funny noise? Oh, that. The dynamo-psychic waves are a little like ultra-high-frequency waves. Sometimes when I turn on the power, they create a kind of static. Listen, Professor, how much power have you got? Could you blow up anything, well, you know, big? I could flatten the great wall of China. Boy, you'll make the helio-oxygen bomb look sick. That's what scares me, Clinton. The thought that maybe I could use this power to save the world. Clinton, you've got to help me. Who, me? Professor, when it comes to international relations, I don't know from where. You'd better get in touch with the State Department. State Department? Yes. They'd be the ones, wouldn't they? Well, you probably want to be getting home now. I'll see you to the door. I could use a breath of fresh air. Okay, Professor. You'd better stop brooding about this. You'll get somebody else to do your worrying for you. Yes, yes, you're right. I have been brooding, wondering what to do. Just sitting and staring endlessly at that awful monstrosity across the way. You mean the old bell tower? Yes, I've gotten so I can't stand the sight of it anymore. Professor? Professor, look what... Well, there's nothing left but a pile of rubble. Oh, my, I didn't really mean to do that. Well, you see, Clinton, it's got to the point where my lightest whim is more dangerous than a blockbuster. Professor, you get in and write that letter to the State Department right now. You pack too much of a wallet. Professor Barnhouse mailed his letter and things happened fast. A long arm of the army reached out, and within five days the two of us were deposited in an old mansion in Virginia, surrounded with a barbed wire fence and 20 guards, and labeled top secret. As soon as they'd seen a couple of small demonstrations, they set up a big test of dynamo-psychism, and the Professor was a very important guy. You could see him getting more unhappy every day. General Buck, I've got a talk to you. Just a minute, Professor. We're cleaning up the last of tails in Operation Brainwave. A roll of 1,400 hours tomorrow. That 1,400 what? Two o'clock tomorrow afternoon. Robot-controlled fighter rockets will take off at exactly 1,400 minus 10 and appear over the target at 1,400. Watching from here over the video screen, you will then try to knock all 20 of them out of the sky. Think you can do it? Of course I can do it. Fine. Then we're taking care of everything. Everything except that you neglected to ask me if I wanted to do it. I don't. This whole thing strikes me as childish and insanely expensive. We'll decide about that. What? What's the good of it? I wouldn't mind acting as a defense weapon if it were necessary, but I can make all wars and armaments unnecessary. I could give every nation what it needs. I could move mountains, build roads, dig irrigation canals. I have a technique which costs nothing and can do immense good. You're spending millions to prove that it can do immense damage. It doesn't make sense. You know something, General. He's right. Of course I'm right. I want you to send me and Clinton back to Wilton College. Right away. That's quite impossible, Professor. This operation has gone too far to be called off now. Yes, but... Even if we wanted to call it off. If your dynamo-psychism really works, you have to be the key to our entire defense setup. But listen... You'll have to excuse me now. Major Cotthrel and I have to double-check the confidentialist of the observers on this end. Have you got a major? Yes, General. It's right here. Parker, Bernstein, Carter, Clinton, Cotthrel, Holbrook, Lawrence, Stein, Williams. I guess that includes everybody of importance. What about me? What? Oh, that's taken for granted, Professor. Thanks. 1,400 hours. Will you be ready? I'll be ready. And now, if someone will wind the restricted clock and put the confidential cat out, I'm going to bed. That's McKinley in the observation plane. Cut me in. Hello, McKinley. Reading it clear on the speaker. Everything all right? In course, in perfect formation. Altitude, 5,000 feet. Airspeed, 865. Hacking us. We've got you on radar. Haven't picked you up on the video screen yet. What's your estimated time variable over the target? Thanks. Check. Remember, McKinley, the observation plane is not to enter the target range. Veer off and circle at the 10-mile limit. Bring the rockets overhead by remote control. Check. The observation's signing off. One minute. 45 seconds to go, Professor Barnhouse. Are you in good shape? I'm all right, General. Good. You can all take our places in front of the video screen now. You sit here, Professor, in the center. Mr. Cutthroat, will you turn on the video screen? Right, General. Nothing yet. Just empty sky. Hold it. I hear him coming in. There are 20 of them, Professor. You think you can knock them down at this altitude? Distance has nothing to do with it. I don't want anything to go wrong. You're sure you feel all right? General, I know I can do it. If that's all that's worrying you, let's call the whole thing off and save 20 million dollars. There they are. They're coming in. Get ready, Professor. 10 seconds. 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Now, wide open, Professor. Well, go ahead, Barnhouse. Knock them down. I did. Nonsense. All you've done is blank out the video screen. What went wrong? Did you give it everything you had? I was wide open, General. No, it didn't work. They're still flying. What's that? It just took a few seconds to work. That's it. Holy smoke. They're dropping like flies. McKinley in a brainwave control. What's happening? It works. It really works. Cutthroat, get Washington on the line. Barnhouse, I want you to... Hey, where's Barnhouse? Where's the Professor? We were all staring at the video. We must have walked out. Get moving, everybody. Let the guard search the house. Anything happens to that man? What is it going on? Corporal Gray got at the main gate. Sir Professor Barnhouse is gone. Gone where? He came tearing out of the gate at 40 miles an hour. Here's a note, sir. Do it out of the cars. He went by. I picked it up. Let me see it. Quick. What, uh... What got into that man? What does he say, General? Gentlemen, as the first super weapon with a conscience, I'm removing myself from your National Defense stockpile. Setting a new precedent in the behavior of Ordinance, I have humane reasons for going off. Sign? Not the Barnhouse. Barnhouse was gone. Within 12 hours, the world was on a spree. The headlines were glorious or terrible, depending on what you think of the things the way they are. The dynamo-psychic waves reached every corner of the world, and every country, every continent flashed the news of what was happening. Barnhouse knocks out hidden atomic-stockpiles. There was a new kind of war, the War of Tattletales. Secret agents of every country hunted for the hidden armaments of their enemies. Yelled about them in the newspapers, and immediately there'd be that warning burst of Barnhouse static, followed by... Radio control, please. Blown up on... Professor was out to make peace or bust. And nothing like him ever was. Cuthwell, I told the FBI and the Army everything I know weeks ago. I've answered questions till I'm blue in the face. I didn't come here to ask questions, Clinton. I came to ask for your help. My help? To find Barnhouse. What if I don't want to? If you're his friend, I think you'd better. Why pick on me? You've got the FBI, the police and Army intelligence. Why can't you find them yourselves? We're trying. But you know the man well. You could spot him where we wouldn't. And you're the only one who can't. Maybe. But why should I? Wherever he is, I think he's doing fine. He's making war impossible, and I like it. So do I. Yes. He's putting you a lot of jobs. That's all right with me. I'll retire to a truck farm with pleasure. Well, then? Look, Clinton, we aren't the only ones in this race. Every country in the world has its best agents out hunting for Barnhouse. Nobody can beat that kind of a manhunt. He seems to be doing all right so far. Sure. But how long do you think he can keep it up? A week, a month. Sooner or later, he'll be spotted. And if the wrong people find him, Clinton, we're done for. You know what kind of weapon this is. Whoever controls the Barnhouse effect can control the world. All right. Well, they do find him. He'd never give the secret away. Never give it away? Are you out of your mind? You think these fellows are playing for marbles? Well, no. Bring the papers, Clinton. Don't you know what's going on in the rest of the world? Yes. They'll get the secret out of Barnhouse, all right? What happens to him in the process won't be very pretty. Well, he must realize that, then. He'll never let himself be taken alive. He may not have the choice. And if he doesn't, God help us all. All right? All right, I'm in. Good. Now, do you know anything that you haven't told us? Anything that might give us a lead? Only this was addressed to me. I found it here on his desk the morning after we escaped. You mean he came back here? Yes. I guess he needed to pick up some personal effects. Anyway, the files were open and he left this note on the scrap paper. Anything to do with the Barnhouse effect? Read it yourself. It's Greek to me. Just these few lines scrolled in a piece of paper and the last one breaks off right in the middle of the sentence. This stuff doesn't make any sense at all. You know, from the looks of this, I'm beginning to wonder if the professor isn't going off his rocker. I thought of that, too. All the more reason why we've got to get to him quick. He may be helpless in the whole world on his track. Come on, Clinton, we haven't much time. You say you do recognize this photograph in Sweden? I tell you, it looks like Mr. Balfas. He had the second floor front room for quite a while, but he left, oh, I should say, about a week ago. Say, is he wanted for something? Yes, if he's the man I think he is. Well, now I'd say you're looking for the wrong fella. That Mr. Balfas, he couldn't be a criminal. Why, he wouldn't even harm a fly. He spent all his time in his womb just thinking. Oh, brother, it's hot. What a way to spend an August afternoon, huh, Major? You may I teeth to be at Jones Beach. So would I, Corporal. We've got work to do here. Look, so we've been cruising around these radio detection cars for a week, not a sign of barnhouse static. The professor must have run out of things to work on. Well, we'll give him a little more time. Switch to shortwave. See if there's anything special coming through. Yes. Try the 90-meter wave. Let's hear that. Our American enemies who have hidden behind the undrusted diabolical persecution by Professor Arthur Barnhouse will tyrannize us no more. I wonder if the professor's out there. They are glorious leaders. He takes up his residence in a shelter shielded with lead against all dynamo-psychocrats. With his protection designed by our brilliant scientists to be absolutely impregnable against the barnhouse attack, he will once again lead us on the path of our glorious death. I've got it. Let me check this chart. Quick, man. 3.9, 1.7. Oh, my yaking back. What is it? We haven't got a prayer of finding a major. He'd have to be picked out of two million people. Where is Barnhouse? Right where I was wishing I was. Right smack in the middle at Jones Beach. Recognize this picture? Who wants to know? Uncle wants to know. Oh. Oh, excuse me. I'm sorry. Yeah, let me see it. Looks a lot like Room 417. About 5 feet 8, thin, sandy hair, glasses, little scar right across the bridge of his nose. Yes, 417 all right. You mean he's here now? No, not anymore. He checked out two days ago. When he couldn't have gone far. What makes you say that? Boy, he looks sick as a dog. Couldn't hardly carry his own bag out. Uh-oh. Like I said to the other fellas, I said, he looked like he was on his way to the morgue. What other fellas? Oh, were there ones this morning? You're the second pair that's been asking for him. This way, gentlemen. You're sure he's here, nurse? Thank heaven we're in time. Well, I wasn't on duty when he came in, but one of the other girls told me he collapsed in the street. The ambulance brought him in. Poor guy. He must have really had it more up. Oh, here you are. Bed number 78. This is your man. Wait a minute. This isn't Barnhouse. But I was perfectly sure. Oh, wait. Let me check his chart. Dismissed 8 p.m. Only an hour ago. Oh, dear. Now I remember. Remember what? If he was sick, why did you let him go? Well, two of his friends came and took him away. They didn't want him in the charity ward. They said they'd make sure that he was taken care of. Out of this study, I keep hoping somehow I'll wake up out of a bad dream and find the professor just sitting here. Major, is there anything we haven't covered? Nothing. The police, the FBI, the air patrols, the docks, the railroad stations, everything. Not even a flea could get through this ragnet. I hope. Then I guess we sit. We sit. Maybe something will come in. You have to roll those dice. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. An hour. That's what's driving me crazy. One hour sooner and he'd have been in our hands. Not theirs. I know. Well, maybe he's still all right. How can he be all right? He's in the hands of a foreign power. We don't know that for sure. The professor was a like of a little duck guy. He couldn't have lasted this long if he hadn't found some friends. Maybe they came and took him away. Well, I... Grab that. Hello? Yes? Professor Boynhouse. Mr. Clinton. They've got me. Who's got you? Where are you, Professor? I don't know. What are you talking about? Remember the... Professor Boynhouse. That call just came in here. Can you trace it? The field out here, I remember. Hasn't been used in years. Better be the one. They didn't have too much of a start on us. Maybe we'll make it in time. Step on it, Corporal. Wide open, Major. How do you sound? Did he say who had him? No. All he got out was the airport. Something about an agent, Mr. Clinton. There's a tail light up ahead. Must be another car going like the devil. You're right. They're turning into the airfield. Come on, faster. Hold everything. Look up ahead. They're switching the floodlights on at the field. There's the plane down at the other end. All warmed up and ready to go. Remember me, get on the road. Hang on. I'm going through the fence. What's the matter? Get going. Sorry, sir. Must have cracked the axle. Now the submachine gun. You can't, Boynhouse. It's in that plane. You'll kill him. We've got to take that chance. That plane's headed straight for us. Hit the dirt. There goes the old ballgame. I'll get through the air patrols, sir. Maybe they can intercept the plane. They're not a chance. If they got off the ground, the plane would be out of range. No, we've lost, Boynhouse. And nothing can save us now. Hey, what the f*** is this? Are you all right? Yeah, sure. The plane. Boynhouse blew it right out of the sky. He wouldn't let himself be taken alive. We did it the hard way. Poor guy. He shouldn't have had to be a hero. All he ever wanted was peace. Peace? What's that? Now, the arms race will start all over again. With Boynhouse gone, what's left to stop it? So they brought me back here to the professor's old study to dictate this report. I'm sitting here at his desk, and it's just the way he left. Papers all over. Even his old pair of dice. Arthur Boynhouse is dead. That's going to be good news for some people when they find out. The sabre rattlers of the world will be busy as of tomorrow morning getting ready to whoop up another war. I'm afraid they're in for a little surprise. It's 3 a.m. now. Before morning comes, I intend to vanish. Disappear completely. That's the last that anybody will ever see or hear of me directly. That's why I want to tell you now. I've been looking at the new inkwell here on the desk. The professor's last words was something about an inkwell. And in it I found a little scrap of paper. Just a few words, but they complete the note I showed the nature. The note that didn't make any sense. The whole thing makes sense now. Professor Barnhouse may be dead. But you haven't heard the last of the Barnhouse effect, not yet. I've been experimenting while I've been talking to you. And now the time has come for me to say goodbye. You see, I've just rolled my 50th consecutive 70. You have just heard report on the Barnhouse effect by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. An adventure in time, space, and the unknown. Dimension. The strange story of the interspace rocket Star Cloud, which vanished mysteriously behind the great galactic barrier in the year 1986. What happened to it and to its crew? We'll tell you next week. Tonight's story report on the Barnhouse effect was adapted for radio by Clarice A. Ross. Featured in the cast were Bill Quinn as Clinton, Ed Jerome as Professor Barnhouse, and Carl Weber as Major Cutthroat. Your host was Norman Rose, music, Albert Berman, engineer Bill Chambers. Dimension X is produced by Van Woodward and directed by Edward King. Tomorrow here Sam Spade. Now it's truth or consequences on NBC.