Clarion

CLARION

William Greenleaf

132

133

The same thing had occurred to Paul.

"Does the storyteller have spies who get the information for him?" she asked.

"Maybe some of them do," Paul answered. "But Dorland didn't. The fact is, in any audience larger than twenty people, there are always a few who have gotten themselves into financial trouble, or a few who are having problems with their marriages or their job. As a storyteller, Dorland watched for reactions from people in the audience as he started out. Usually he could spot two or three who were taking a personal interest in what he was saying. While he added more details, he would keep his eye on those two or three people. He could see from the responses who he was hitting, and eventually the visible reactions would be narrowed down to one person. To that person, it seemed that Dorland's story had been told about him. In fact, the story had been molded around him." He paused. "At least that's how Dorland described the process."

"You sound skeptical. Don't you believe him?" Paul hesitated. He'd wrestled with questions like that ever since he'd met Dorland. "I'm convinced that's how Dorland thinks he did it. But I find it remarkable that a person can read enough clues from the expression on a person's face to carry off something like that."

She nodded thoughtfully. "How is a psi-player different from a storyteller?"

"A player communicates with his body, amplified by lights and music. He doesn't tell a story—at least not in words. Instead, he creates a mood, and the people in the audience fit themselves into it." He paused, trying to think of a better way to get his explanation across. It was hard to describe a psiplay to someone who'd never experienced one.

"Dorland has a way of viewing an audience as a single entity rather than as many individuals. He says that whenever you get a group of people together—especially if they've come together to focus their attention on something specific, like an entertainer—there's always a potential mood lying under the surface."

"A potential mood?"

He nodded. It had taken him a long time to

understand exactly what Dorland meant by that.

"Certain people have always been able to take advantage of that potential. Religious leaders, for example. You've lived here on Clarion all your life, so you don't know about the wide variety of religious beliefs out there along the occupied stream. Most of them began with a single individual who had certain characteristics people wanted to believe in. The most successful religious leaders are very charismatic. They have a power of personality, and they use a real show-business hype to strengthen their popularity and steer their followers. People come to see them because they want to believe, and the preacher or evangelist or faith healer or whatever he happens to be brings them all together in a believing group. Political leaders can do the same thing."

"You're saying that's what Dorland does as a psi-player?"

"Not the same, but the principle is there." He paused, thinking. "A few weeks ago Dorland gave a performance in a big city on Lisaland. Lisaland has a pseudodemocratic government, which means officials are elected. I decided to take a stroll around the area of our hotel and came across a political rally."

"What's that?"

"That's where a man running for office gets a big crowd together and tells them why they should vote for him. The man I saw was named Sykes. I forget what he was running for, but he was a master at working the crowd."

" Working the crowd?"

134 William Greenleaf

Paul nodded. "I saw it for what it was because of my experience with storytellers. Sykes started talking, and he watched the reactions of the crowd. He knew what the crowd wanted to believe, and he knew what he wanted them to believe. He worked up a lot of distractions—waving arms, booming voice, dramatic facial expressions—and he got his message across in such a powerful way that he made the people want to believe what he was telling them."

Karyn nodded slowly. "They want to believe because . . ." Her voice trailed off.

"There's security in believing what a powerful man tells you is truth," Paul said. "And there's security in believing what the group believes. Sykes was taking advantage of the group potential."

"But you said Dorland doesn't speak during his show."

"That's right. But Dorland can read an audience as a group. He can see the underlying potential and bring it out with lights and music and poses and facial expressions. These are only distractions. They make the audience believe Dorland is powerful, and they want to feel secure in his power. While they're in that mood of persuasion, he uses the patterns of lights and music to make them feel the way he wants them to feel. They follow his lead willingly because that's what they've come for—to grasp a bit of security and hold on tight."

She was quiet for a long time after he had

finished speaking. He had no way of knowing if she understood any of it.

"How did you meet him?" she asked at last. Paul had never told the full story to anyone but Trisha. Somehow, with the pale moonlight filtering through the high oval ports and the breeze sighing against the tube's metal skin, he felt like talking about it.

"It happened five years ago," he said. "I was