A/N: A sequel to the Kurt Vonnegut short story "Report on the Barnhouse Effect".
Barnhouse Update
If I told you my name you probably wouldn't recognize it.
Twelve years ago I penned a report for the military about my mentor and friend, Professor Arthur Barnhouse. In it, I described how I came to meet the professor and eventually learn how he developed what he called dynamopsychism but what the press and public came to call the Barnhouse Effect. As is well known to the world, after an exercise proving his power to destroy with his mind he went into hiding to become the first 'weapon with conscience', to use his own words. For eleven years he would reach out from his hiding place to destroy any weapon that brought to his attention in the news; and indeed it became a full-time endeavor for spies of all nations to discover and publish the existence of said weapons of friend and foe alike
What is known to far fewer people is that I received a communication from the professor that allowed me to develop the same power, and when that power first began to manifest itself I too disappeared after leaving my report. At that time my name was Franklin Sonderman. I say was, for in the intervening years I have changed my name several times as I move from place to place and set up a new identity. During this time I have continued to test my power, always careful to do so harmlessly; at least harmless to people and animals; I dare say a few flattened trees and shifted hills would disagree.
Then a year ago, the destruction of weapons from the Barnhouse Effect ceased completely. It would have been hoped that man had learned his lesson and continued to use his efforts for peaceful means, but that was a pipe dream as soon the military complex began to implement plans that had lain dormant of out necessity for so long. I had already estimated that the professor was likely to be able to police the world for no more than fifteen years at the most when I disappeared, so it was my guess that an accident, frailty or illness had finally caught up with him.
I studied my news sources for months, and planned on initiating my own offensive to pick up where the professor had left off. While preparing, I noticed a pattern of accidents that occurred in the Midwest. Commercial planes were being downed by mysterious mechanical troubles, trains derailed and even buses were catching fire. Drawing out a map, I noticed all were centered within a few miles of a small town located in Kansas.
Could someone else have found the secret? Just because the professor had used it for the good of the planet didn't mean that it could be used for other purposes; that's why he had gone into hiding. The military had tried to develop the powers in others, but to no avail. I didn't think that was the answer but something was happening. The possibility that someone was coercing the professor seemed to so remote I dismissed that as well.
I rented a car and drove to the town to see for myself. 'Sleepy' would have been understating the laidback atmosphere of the town, as I counted all of two traffic lights (one of which never seemed to work) and one school. I got there in the evening, and with most of the town's businesses closed for the day I went to the local tavern to listen and observe. I sat at a table and quickly ordered a steak dinner and a beer, then sat back and pretended to read a newspaper while in actuality listened to the various conversations in the place. With my head behind the newspaper I heard a chair pulled up to my table before lowering it to find an older man sitting across from me.
"New in town?" he asked.
I figured he already knew the answer to that; in a small town like this I'd stick out like a sore thumb. "Sure am, but I'm just passing through on my way across Kansas. Hal Coach" I said as I stuck out my hand.
He took it warmly and shook. "Doc Friessen. It's a long way to drive; be a lot faster if you flew or something."
"Yeah," I admitted "but it's not that safe with the planes, trains and buses having…problems."
"Just travel during the day; all the accidents have been happening at night."
I hadn't thought to check that; I was so preoccupied with where that I hadn't paid much attention to when. "Odd pattern, I should have noticed."
"Good at patterns are you? You mean like puzzles and stuff?"
"Retired mathematician. Not much money in it, but I got lucky and got some from a rich uncle so I can travel instead of standing in front of a classroom." That much was true enough.
"Oh, math wiz. You probably can count cards and clean up at poker too" the doc laughed.
I joined him with a chuckle. "I can hold my own, but dice is my game."
"Good, are ya?" he asked.
"Yeah, I can make 'em dance for me when I need. Not much of a challenge, but it makes for a great party trick."
The man leaned in closer, laughing; his eyes told a different story though. "I have a friend who can do that; he and his student Frankless often played dice 'till all hours of the night."
Only one man ever called me Frankless, a pun the professor came up with one day when I got lunch from a hot dog cart and found mine didn't have a weenie in it. "Me too; we used to play out behind an old barn." I watched as the doc pulled out a folded paper from his shirt pocket. He unfolded it and looked it over before looking at me. He seemed to make up his mind.
"Interested in a class reunion?" he said, winking.
"I didn't know if any of the faculty was left" I responded with lowered voice.
"Funny you should say that, because departing faculties is the problem. What say I take you on a tour of the town, Hal." I paid my tab and left the half-finished dinner and beer to walk outside with the doc. He motioned me over to a dark four-door, and I sat in the front passenger seat. I noticed a doctor's bag in the back seat.
We drove out of town, which took all of two minutes, and out into the country. About a mile from town we turned off the paved road onto a dirt driveway and bumped along until reaching a farmhouse. By now it was getting dark, but the curtains were aglow by lights from inside. The doc walked directly to the front door, and pulling out his keys unlocked it.
"Your house?" I asked.
"No," he answered "but I've got keys to see my patient here. I'd like you to meet him." We both entered, wiped our feet and made our way through the entryway and towards the back bedroom as the doc called out ahead "It Doc, Art, and I've brought a friend." He opened the door and led me in.
There, lying on the bed was Professor Barnhouse himself. The man was frail and withered, but the worrisome sight was the IV line running into his arm. Two bags were suspended from a metal rack beside the bed, supplying who knows what to his body. His eyes were closed.
"Professor?" I asked.
The eyes fluttered open. He turned toward me slightly and looked. I was sure he didn't recognize me, but he gave me a smile and said "Frankless." Drawing strength, he pulled himself higher on the bed. "Late for class again? You're getting as bad as I used to be." We both smiled. "Tell me about yourself."
I quickly went over what happened after he disappeared, including me receiving his communication and finding the secret as well, and my disappearance and cultivation of the power. "I got myself ready to take over whenever you can't do it anymore" I assured him.
"I knew you could figure it out, and I also hoped that you'd come here once my problem starting hitting the papers because you'd figure that out too. Doc here has an old photo of you I gave him from the university newspaper and he's been keeping an eye out just in case you showed up."
"Your problem? These accidents have been your doing?" I questioned. Barnhouse had never shown any tendency toward malevolence in the time I had known him; it just wasn't in the man.
"Yes and no" the doc cut in before the professor could answer. "As you can tell, the prof here isn't in very good shape. Terminal, I'm afraid. All the power of his mind and he goes and gets cancer, then ignores it for so long that by the time he mentions it to me it's too late. We're just trying to keep him comfortable now in the time that he has left; I expect we'll be counting it in days now."
"You're not mad at the world are you?" I asked him. "That's not like you, Professor."
He looked at me aghast, to even suggest such a thing. "I never!" He started a brief coughing fit, and we waited until it subsided.
The doc continued. "He's still the same man, but now he has to contend with pain all the time. I give him something at night to help him rest a little, but the side effect of the medication is it can cause mild delusions occasionally. I'm afraid the public has been the worse for wear because of it."
I turned my attention to the man in the bed and saw him crying. "I've caused the death of innocent people. All my work for nothing."
Reaching over, I used a tissue on his cheek while reassuring him. "Professor, you've done more as one man than any nation has to ensure peace in the world. I know for a fact you've taken great lengths to avoid taking human life when you destroy weapons, and you've slapped around tyrants to get their attention rather than just wiping them off the planet."
"But under the medication sometimes I imagine ordinary things are enemy forces and before I can stop myself they're destroyed. But it must stop; the doc won't help me end it. He refuses even though it would save the life of others."
The doc shook his head. "Don't even ask. I can't rationalize taking one life to save many, I simply won't do it."
"Professor, I might know a way. As I said, I've been working on my technique; not only getting stronger, but working on control as well. In order to keep things secret, I've worked out what I think of as a 'mind shield' that I put around the area I plan on working with; it helps contain the destruction to a small area without causing unwanted damage to people or property. Now, you need your rest even if just for a few hours. I don't know if it will work, but let me try to put a shield around the house to protect the people just while you sleep. Then, when you are awake I can relax and get some rest myself. Let's try one last experiment Professor, what do you say?"
And so we did. Constructing a continuous mind shield was a taxing endeavor, but I was able to hold it for several hours while the professor slept. He tossed and turned, and several times I could feel his mind trying to reach past the shield but no incidents were reported so it appeared to be a success. I could tell he was getting weaker, until almost two weeks passed when he called me over and spoke very faintly.
"Franklin, my time is at hand. You've been a good student, a good friend and a good man. It's too much to ask, but I ask it anyway: Will you take up the mantle as guardian of peace?"
"I will, if for no other reason except no one else can. I will try to be as worthy as my teacher."
"Good" he said, closing his eyes. "I think I'm going to rest now."
I quickly constructed a mind shield, but didn't have need to hold it long as his breathing slowed and finally came to a stop. I relaxed the shield, tucked in his blanket one last time and left the room.
...
I still live in that house to this day, five years later. Now I'm part of the community, a retired teacher that has settled down and who enjoys the odd game every few weeks and never seems to get upset when the dice just aren't rolling in my favor. I save my efforts for more important matters, and with several newspaper subscriptions and television news I manage to find enough going on in the rest of the world. I've even got a side job tutoring a local math student; he seems to have a good head on his shoulders, cares about people, and just might be interested in learning a few dice games. It's enough to keep me busy and satisfied. Isn't that the key?
The End
A/N: "Report on the Barnhouse Effect" was one of Vonnegut's first published works, circa 1950. I read it in a collection of sci-fi and the story always stayed with me, the original left hanging with the anticipation that the student would one day replace the teacher. With both in hiding, I wanted to handle the transfer of responsibility with dignity and came up with this.
