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"Can you hear me, George Hanlon?" he dimly heard His Highness' voice. "Yes." It sounded like a whisper. "Are you a member of the Inter-Stellar Corps?" "I ... I ...", he struggled not to answer. "Tell me!" "I ... I ..." and then, in a last desperate effort to keep from telling what he must not tell, George Hanlon did a thing he had never dared attempt before.
He was out all night, wandering here and climbing there on the hillside, pausing now and again to listen and to look about, almost expectantly, where naught could be seen save the mighty procession of the stars, and naught could be heard save the ringing of the inter-stellar silence as the earth swung steadily onward in her course.
For George Hanlon, youngest man ever to be assigned to the Inter-Stellar Corps' Secret Service although he did not know this until later had that within him which placed matters of duty uppermost in his mind at all times.
"George Hanlon, you are hereby officially dismissed from the Inter-Stellar Corps' Cadet School!" So saying, Admiral Rogers ripped all identifying symbols from Hanlon's uniform, then turned again to the marines. "Take him outside the Reservation." They hauled Hanlon, still shrieking and cursing, out of the room, out of the building, across the park, and to the gate of the Corps' property.
To do so, he organized the 'Snyder Patrol', which later was taken over by the Federated Planets when that organization was formed, and became today's Inter-Stellar Corps. "Today there are fifty-seven planets colonized by former inhabitants of Tellus or their descendants from colonized planets.
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