There was a sinking feeling in George Hanlon's mind. Did that mean what he was afraid it meant?

He sent out a tentative feeler of thought toward the mind behind that expressionless face. He expected to find it difficult to do, because of long disuse of the faculty. But he was amazed both at the ease with which the technique returned to him, and with the feeling of warm friendliness he found in that mind--almost like a sort of fatherly pride.

He probed a bit deeper, and was aware of assurance that he had done nothing to merit punishment. Indeed, it seemed he could catch exactly the opposite feeling.

He must have shown his relief, for the commandant's stern face relaxed into a broad smile, and he lounged back in his big chair.

"That's better. At ease, and sit down."

Slowly, disbelieving the sudden change, the astonished young cadet gingerly sank onto the front edge of a chair. He had to, his legs were suddenly rubbery.

"I ... I don't understand at all, sir."

The admiral leaned forward and spoke impressively. "Do you think, Cadet Hanlon, that we would let any man get to within weeks of graduation without knowing all about him?"

The young man's eyes widened, and his hands clutched at his knees in an effort to keep them from shaking.

"Oh, yes, we know all about you, George Spencer Newton Hanlon," and the cadet's eyes opened even wider at that name. "We know about your talent for mind-reading as a child, and how you suppressed it as you grew older and found how it got you into trouble. We know all about your father's disgrace and disappearance; your mother's death; your running away, and your adoption by the Hanlons, whose last name you assumed."

"How ... how'd you learn all that, sir?"

"The Corps has its ways. And that's why you're here now. Oh, all the Fifth Year Cadets will be interviewed by myself or my assistants this coming week, to determine their first assignment after graduation. But I called you in today for a very, very special reason. And your ability to read minds is part of it."

The cadet drew himself up stiffly. "I'm through with all that, sir, definitely!"

The commandant regarded him enigmatically for a moment. "Just what do you expect to do in the Corps, Mister?"

"Why, whatever I'm assigned to do, I suppose, sir. Or whatever I can do."

"And just how far will you go for the Corps?" The admiral leaned forward and eyed him critically.

"All the way, sir, of course."

"Don't you believe a Corpsman should use all his abilities in his service?" The question was barked at him.

"Certainly, sir." But his eyes showed he realized he had been trapped by that admission.

"You're one of the few persons known who have ever actually been able to read another's mind. That's important--very important--to the Corps. _It must be used!_"

Hanlon's eyes were still stormy, but he kept his lips tightly closed.

The commandant's face grew kindly again. "We know how it got you into trouble when you were a boy, because the other children resented it, and avoided or abused you for using it on them.