Hanlon himself went through this, but was quickly disappointed. There wasn't a thing he wanted in any of the drawers. He turned the desk upside down, looking for secret compartments. Finding none, he ordered the marines to take it to pieces. At a nod from the admiral they dismantled the desk.
But it was perfectly innocuous.
Hanlon was just turning away, disgustedly, when a man came from the zoo with the caged toogan. At sight of the familiar room the bird perked up.
"Hey, Boss!" it called out in a clear but whistling sort of voice, "I'm home again." Hanlon had no trouble understanding its words, spoken in Simonidean, of course, but was busy examining its mind. He walked over to the messenger and held out his hand. "I'll take the bird."
The zoo attendant looked at him doubtfully. "It's a vicious thing, sir," he said. "Be careful—it's already injured one man. They say no one but the Prime Minister can handle it."
"It's all right," the admiral spoke. "Thank you for bringing it. That will be all."
Hanlon took the cage and, giving the admiral a meaning look, walked out of the room with it.
Chapter 23
In the next room George Hanlon sank into a comfortable chair, then opened the cage door and the toogan fluttered out and perched on the chair arm. The young man fitted his mind more closely to the bird's brain and began probing. Carefully he studied its every line and channel, utterly oblivious to everything else.