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Can do?" "Hmmm." The other thought rapidly but cogently for some minutes. "With a few minor variations, yes. But why? ... oh, I see. You want to get in with the gang, is that it?" When Hanlon nodded Abrams continued, "you're playing a dangerous game, but that's what we've learned to expect of your Corpsmen. A wonderful group!" "Thanks."
And you, fellow," turning to Hanlon. "Don't think I'm interfering just to save your worthless skin," his tone was one of utmost contempt. "I just don't want Corpsmen fighting on the street. Dismiss." The five saluted smartly and marched away. The admiral winked briefly and with respect at Hanlon before reentering his cab.
"Admiral Houghton reporting. Sector Three taken. Two of our cruisers blasted, and one battleship crippled. One enemy battleship was fighting us, and had to be destroyed. They've really got something, sir, that we'll want to study and get for ourselves." Another yell of triumph came from the Corpsmen, and Hanlon felt a thrill of pride in the Service of which he was a part.
Only he, apparently saw the minute widening of the admiral's eyes at that code-word. The officer faced the new lieutenants sternly. "A Corpsman is supposed to be able to handle five civilians, not five Corpsmen to one. If this man is a disgraced cadet, you have a right to feel as you do about him. But leave him alone the years will bring him more sorrow and pain than you can with your fists.
But the moment the man touched the stool the bird's mind gave Hanlon a clear picture of a procedure it had witnessed many times. He gasped, and called out to the Corpsmen, "That stool! Never mind looking at the closet itself or that other stuff. Bring the stool out here!" The surprised lieutenant jumped down, and carried the little ladder over to where Hanlon was standing with the bird.
Instantly the five Corpsmen jumped back and, so ingrained was the training he had received, so did Hanlon, to come at salute as they saw a High Admiral climbing out of a ground-cab at the curb. Hanlon, instantly realizing he wasn't in uniform and was supposedly a discharged Corpsman, quickly dropped his salute and slouched truculently. "What's going on here!" the officer asked icily.
Several of the Corpsmen jumped forward, and again the toogan struggled, but Hanlon was holding it firmly by force, as well as tightening his mental control, which the powerful compulsion Bohr had implanted in the bird's mind had momentarily broken through.
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