The Thought Timers

25 May

My brother Thomas and I were able to accomplish what no one else in our psychic association had ever done, or dreamed of doing.

Together, we came up with the scheme for guaranteed casino winnings. Neither of us was the sole creator of the method used. Each brother contributed individually to its invention. The success would not have happened without both participants.

Thomas, a year older than me, was the first to show mental sensitivity.

As the two of us grew up, he led me into playful adventures of the mind.

Our parents, though not themselves in any way psychic, sent us to a telesthetic school even before our enrollment in public primary education. That area became our obsession. None of our contemporaries were as interested or involved as the two of us.

From an early age, we were both players at games of chance. Cards and dice were our only toys.

“No one has ever successfully applied psychic capabilities to gambling situations,” Thomas told me many times. “My dream is that you and I can be explorers on that frontier.

That statement by my sibling set my mind on fire. “How is that going to be done? I asked.

Thomas explained to me his idea of projection of thought backwards in time.

“If I focus on the stopping point of a roulette wheel in the present and transmit my knowledge to a time only a little way back in the past. Then, I could instruct an associate where it is possible to place a securely winning bet. My partner will know, through my psychic contact into the future, the color and number of the victorious combination in a moment soon to appear.

I felt my head whirling. “Is what you say possible?” I demanded of Thomas.

“We will only know that when we attempt to do it in an actual gambling hall.”

Our next task was to choose a casino where we could carry out such experimentation.

The Azar, a gigantic building, was packed to the walls with excited gamblers. A never-ending frenzy characterized the thick crowd of players and observers. Tables with roulette wheels were the most popular foci of attention. The noise of rotating disks sounded without ceasing. Eyes and minds concentrated on the final fall of the deciding ball into one of thirty-eight numbered, colored spaces. So many fates and destinies could be determined by where the forces of chance stopped the falling sphere!

My brother and I spent weeks frequenting the place before daring to try out our plan. The backward transmission of a number and the name of a color could only last a few seconds. Could such a mental feat be carried out with success? We decided on a series of dry runs with Thomas the sender and I the receiver. We took positions on opposite sides of the roulette table. Neither one of us looked directly at the other. Our purpose was to conceal any tie between us. We wished to be seen as strangers if anyone became curious about us.

Out of the blue, a thought entered my mind: red seventeen.

I repeated the image to myself, over and over, my eyes on the revolving wheel. It came to a sudden halt. “Red seventeen” called out the tuxedoed croupier.

Without looking at each other, my brother and I realized that psychic timing worked.

Several more experiments with us as observers panned out as well.

Later that night, at home, we reached the decision to begin betting on our own.

I was the one who purchased a small roll of gambling chips. Win followed win as the transmissions from the brain of my brother entered my own. I followed the directions given by these immaterial messages, setting a record of continuous victories. a fascinated group of watchers assembled about me. They looked on as if mesmerized as I amassed a large pile of chips. Through the Azar traveled word of the spectacularly fortunate roulette player.

A little before dawn, two tired young men left the casino with bags of cash.

My brother’s invention had worked! He was able to transmit winning signals backwards in time so that I had the opportunity to place my bet on the right combination ahead of the event.

A second, then a third evening of scoring followed. We grew nearly intoxicated with what we were doing. Our carelessness became enormous. No one foresaw what was going to happen to us.

Thomas was standing close by as I went to a cashier’s window to turn in my chips for money.

All at once, two heavy figures in black suits walked up to me, one on each side.

“Please come along with us,” whispered one of them. “Mr. Geluk wishes to speak with you.”

My mind could only imagine the worst was about to happen. Had our method been uncovered? Was the owner of the Azar going to put a stop to our scheme? I wondered.

The two men escorted me to an almost invisible corridor in the rear of the casino. I intentionally did not exchange any looks with my brother. One of my guards opened a metal desk. “Please, take a seat,” he told me in a surprisingly high-pitched voice.

I took it for granted that he was Geluk, the sportsman made wealthy by the Azar. He stared at me with cruel, relentless eyes of hickory brown.

“How do you do?” he inquired. “None of my croupiers can figure you out. There have been many psychics who have entered here and tried their tricks, but none have done what you have. A large chunk of my current profits are going to be yours. I doubt that any charge of fraud or cheating can be made to stick against you.

“So, I have decided that my only recourse is to offer you a proposition.”

I gave him a blank look of surprise as he paused for a moment.

“No one must ever be told how you do the thing. My business would sink under if your secret became widely known among psychics. They would flock to the Azar from everywhere.

“I will pay you a generous annual salary for joining my staff. There has never been a telepathic director here, so you shall be the first. Your primary function will be to guard the gambling operations from anyone with abilities similar to your own.

“What do you say to my proposition?”

What was I to do?

Instantly I accepted, not foreseeing what the results might be.

As soon as the two of us returned to our apartment, quarreling broke out.

“How could you agree to work for a gambling lord? Why did you trust someone as crooked as this man Geluk? If I had been there with you, there would have been a solid refusal. Don’t you see what we are giving up? The Azar itself could have fallen to us in time.”

I thought over his arguments, but was unable to accept them.

“There will be a steady, secure income going to me that we can share equally. We will be set for life. Geluk does not know of your part, but you can help me patrol the casino against any new psychic invaders.”

Thomas came to have a beet-red face. “No,” he angrily shouted at me. “I forbid it.”

“It is not yours to forbid,” I said to my brother. “Each of us must chose for himself.”

I suddenly realized the implication of my statement. Were we now to divide and separate?

It was my brother who made the irreversible decision.

“I will be moving out of here,” he coldly informed me.

My work at the casino proceeded without incident for six months, until something surfaced.

A blond and beautiful young woman in a red dress started on a winning streak, losing once in a while as if to divert attention.

I watched her carefully, also eying the assembled audience for signs of transmission.

Could someone be timing thoughts out of the future for her benefit? I asked myself.

Was what my brother had devised being repeated by others?

I observed as minutely and attentively as possible. Finally, I approached near the woman to find out whether I myself could receive any sort of mental message.

Black seven suddenly came into my mind. And then black seven was the winner on the spinning roulette wheel.

On the next turn, the same happened with red nine. Again, with black twelve.

There was no question what was happening. There were psychics at work here.

My mind seemed to be revolving as fast as the roulette.

What should I do? What was my duty in this matter?

Gradually, I made my way up to the winner till I stood right behind her.

Leaning forward, I whispered into her ear.

“Please go with me into the spirits lounge so that the two of us can talk.”

Her head twisted around and she gave me a blank look. Without a word, she picked up her chips and followed me away from the gambling table.

She refused to give her name, but she clearly knew my identity.

As we sat in a booth sipping wormwood liquor, the woman who was the big winner did most of the talking.

“Your brother Thomas has trained me and my own brother in the art of timed transmission. Both he and I are now expert at sending and receiving over time. I cannot reveal who my present partner is, but he is my older sibling. We trust each other completely.

“Thomas will receive a portion of our winnings in exchange for having trained us.”

I was breathless with astonishment at what had occurred.

“Do not be afraid,” I managed to say to her. “I shall never betray you.”

At that moment I knew for certain that my position at the Azar was no longer tenable.

Taking a piece of paper and a stylo out of my coat pocket, I wrote out my resignation from the post of psychic guard. Giving it to the head croupier, I departed from the casino I departed from the casino for what I foresaw was to be the last time.

I went home to the apartment where I now lived all alone. In a short while, as soon as Mr. Geluk reads what I wrote him, his two musclemen will be sent for me.

No one quits his service with impunity. I know that for sure.

The timing of psychic thought may have a marvelous future, I think, but without my involvement of any kind at all.


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