His first brief examination brought a slight sound of pleased surprise to his lips. This bird had a real mind, far better than any he had previously discovered in any animal or bird, even better than a dog's. And he could read everything in it.
Best of all, the toogan had a pictorial type of mind—it remembered in scenes as well as words. It transmitted an almost perfect likeness of the being Hanlon had first known as The Leader and later as His Highness Gorth Bohr—any slight discrepancies being caused by the difference between a bird's ability to see and that of humans.
Like a swiftly unreeling three-dimensional film, Hanlon saw the Minister working at his desk, walking about the room, receiving callers, playing with the bird, eating—and sharing his food with it—talking to it confidentially as he might have done to a well-trusted aide.
For over an hour Hanlon sat there, and the bird, seemingly asleep, sat on the chair arm without making a move. Finally Hanlon rose, and the toogan flew onto his outheld arm much as a falcon might ride. In that manner they returned to the main office where the others were still working.
They were all amazed at this peculiar situation, but only Admiral Hawarden came even close to guessing what was going on. The memory of that astounding performance of the pigeon made him think perhaps this surprising young man had actually been reading the bird's mind—or something equally fantastic.
Hanlon set the toogan down on a corner of the big desk, then started walking toward a corner closet. As he neared it the bird seemed to come to life. It began screaming, "No need looking there! There's nothing in there. Nobody's ever to look into that closet! Sic 'em, Pet!"
It dove straight at Hanlon, beak open and screaming in rage. But the man's hand and mind were quicker. Taking possession of the bird's mind again, he silenced it and grabbed it by the neck, holding it gently but firmly under his arm.
"Open that closet and search it thoroughly," Hawarden snapped.
Several of the Corpsmen jumped forward, and again the toogan struggled, but Hanlon was holding it firmly by force, as well as tightening his mental control, which the powerful compulsion Bohr had implanted in the bird's mind had momentarily broken through.
In minutes everything was out of the closet, and while some of the officers were examining every bit of the contents, others, with powerful, portable glo-lights, were going over the walls and shelves. There was a three-foot ladder-stool in the closet, and one of them started to mount it to search the ceiling.