"Yes, thanks to my little friend here." Hanlon took the bird, and handed it to one of the marines, meanwhile impressing on its mind that it was safe among friends. "Look after her." And withdrew his mind.
"She gets good care the rest of her life," the admiral ordered the wondering marines. "Wait outside."
Hawarden looked about the room. "Who are these men ... and what in Snyder's name happened to them?"
"They were stung to death by bees," Hanlon said, and there was a trace of vindictiveness in his voice. "One of 'em's the Prime Minister; the others his gunmen."
"Great John!" the admiral breathed. "This'll raise a stink!"
"There'll be a bigger one before I get through," Hanlon was grim. "Get me back to your office, and get a doctor. They gave me truth serum, and it hasn't all worn off yet. And I'm hungry," he added so plaintively that Hawarden, accustomed enough to sight of death so it didn't affect him too much, laughed.
"What'll we do with the bodies?"
"Guard the Prime Minister's closely. Merely notify the people here where to find the others."
Hawarden called back two of the marines. "Bring that body with us," and they left.
At the entrance the admiral recalled his men. To the palace officer he partially explained. "The Prime Minister was killed, and we're taking his body with us. There are three of his men, also dead, in Room 37-B down there. I'll notify the Emperor, and assume full responsibility."