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Corina was both shocked and angry. Shocked that Thark would even plan such a rebellion, and angry that he had expected her to participate. Thark had not been raised as an Imperial citizen; she had, and could not understand his desire for change. Yet she liked him as a friend as well as respecting him as a teacher she did not want to believe he would actually go through with such a thing.
*Not immediately, no,* Corina replied, puzzled. *As I said earlier, it should be the other way around. Let me think about it, please.* *Okay.* Medart continued aloud, to both. "Well, why not go eat? Then give her the grand tour, Sunbeam, anything she wants to see. Just have her at Briefing Room One by 1600." "Yes, sir." Lunch was good, and the tour was interesting, if tiring.
Still, Corina thought, his control was getting worse rather than better; they should finish up soon, then eat and rest. "That snake image is far too powerful for a stun effect. You must visualize something else. And you must also visualize with more consistency, as the power you exert is directly proportional to the clarity of your image." "I'm sorry, Rina," Medart apologized.
"I believed so, yes," Corina said slowly. "Yet the Order's millennia of experience cannot be totally wrong. It had to be pattern rapport." "Then either human and Irschchan patterns are closer than anyone's ever suspected . . ." "Or it is our own two basic patterns which are in phase." "Uh-huh, that could Hey! Remember, I told you I had more trouble reading Sunbeam than I did reading you?"
Corina thought about that, then inclined her head. "I see, Your Majesty. While it would be the sensible thing to do, it would give the impression of not caring about those who serve you." "Which is precisely why they'll be staying. Ranger Medart, you look like you have something on your mind." "Yes, sir." Medart looked up, at nothing in particular.
He would accompany the assault team not because she asked it, but because of his own conviction that it was part of his job as a Marine. In a flash of insight, Corina realized that Sunbeam had, perhaps without fully realizing it, given her a very accurate capsule description. Greggson's work was truly all he had: the Corps was his entire life, nothing outside had any meaning whatsoever.
After what seemed like an hour, he opened his eyes. "How'm I doing?" "I noticed no reduction in field strength," Corina said. "You are too it is difficult to put properly. Defensive, perhaps, or suspicious. If this is to work, you must trust me." She thought for a minute, then took the dagger from her belt and held it out to the Ranger, hiding a wince of anticipation at his touch.
"All his people are top caliber, or they wouldn't be on this ship and one of them, Ranger Medart's bodyguard, is a Sandeman warrior." "Any selected for this vessel's Marine contingent would be formidable, I know," Corina said, "particularly one of that race's warriors.
*You have been using telepathy alone for the last few minutes,* Corina sent with a purr. *And you have surpassed your teacher; it was some weeks before I could receive thoughts not specifically directed at me.* Medart rose and stalked to where she sat still purring with satisfaction, and glared at her, fists on his hips. "You tricked me!"
I usually go to Mess Three; the food's the same everywhere, but Three's where junior officers mostly eat, Ensigns and Lieutenants, and it's usually lively. Want to?" "You are the guide," Corina said, wondering how, if she always talked this much, Sunbeam managed to eat. Apparently she didn't manage much; she was quite slender.
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