It was obvious to Corina that Colonel Greggson wasn't particularly glad to see them, but he was polite, clearly on his best behavior—until Major Dawson entered.
"Good afternoon, Sir Corina," Dawson said with a grin. "That's quite a wallop you pack—almost like getting hit by a Traiti. I don't suppose you could teach me how to do it?"
"I am afraid not," Corina replied, remembering their earlier meetings and his weak screen. "You simply do not have the right mental pattern."
"Oh." Dawson looked disappointed for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, I never could sing, either."
"I am sorry. But at least Lieutenant DarLeras told me you would not be shamed by what happened in the exercise."
"Not at all," Dawson said cheerfully. "We got a little teasing, of course, but that's no problem any more. I just reminded a couple of the more persistent kidders why we'd been picked for SecuDiv in the first place."
"Oh? May I ask how?" Corina could have probed, but satisfying her curiosity wasn't a valid reason for using Talent against one who had none.
"Telepathy's part of your Talent; why not take a look?"
"Thank you." Invited, there was no breach of honor, so Corina scanned him. From his point of view, she saw him working out in a gym with a couple of his kidders. Either of the two, from their relative sizes, should have been able to defeat Dawson—but that wasn't the case. Using close-combat techniques distilled from the most effective of Terra's many martial arts, he had both "disabled" or "killed" in less than thirty seconds.
"Elegant!" she said in real admiration. "I should get you to teach me instead."