Pebble in the Sky (Galactic Empire, #3)

by Isaac Asimov

Arbin said, “Where do you come from? Are you an—an Outsider?” “What’s an Outsider?” Arbin shrugged and left. But that night had had a great importance for Schwartz, for it was during that short mile toward the shiningness that the strangeness in his mind had coalesced into the Mind Touch. It was what he called it, and the closest he had come, either then or thereafter, to describing it. He had been alone in the darkling purple. His own footsteps against the springy pavement were muted. He hadn’t seen anybody. He hadn’t heard anybody. He hadn’t touched anything. Not exactly . . . It had been something like a touch, but not anywhere on his body. It was in his mind. . . . Not exactly a touch, but a presence—a somethingness there like a velvety tickle. Then there had been two—two touches, distinct, apart. And the second—how could he tell them apart?—had grown louder (no, that wasn’t the right word); it had grown distincter, more definite. And then he knew it was Arbin. He knew it five minutes, at least, before he caught the sound of the biwheel, ten minutes before he laid eyes on Arbin. Thereafter it occurred again and again with increasing frequency. It began to dawn on him that he always knew when Arbin, Loa, or Grew was within a hundred feet of himself, even when he had no reason for knowing, even when he had every reason to suppose the opposite. It was a hard thing to take for granted, yet it began to seem so natural.

Atlantis - stupid CRAB verdsion of piss - Mind Touch