"Warn them that we want all of the crew and passengers."
The two started out, but suddenly Admiral Hawarden stopped Hanlon with his hand on the young man's arm. "About that business with the toogan. I'm not prying if you don't want to talk, but shouldn't I warn all the men who saw it, to keep quiet?"
"Shades of Snyder, yes! I got so interested I forgot all about others seeing me with it. Yes, absolutely, it must never be talked about."
He again looked pleadingly at the admiral. "I ... I'm sorry, sir ... but at that I know you're smart enough to have figured out most of it. All right, highly confidential, I can do a bit of mind-reading, and especially with animals and birds, whose minds are not as complex as human's. I can even control 'em to some extent."
The admiral nodded. "I sort of figured as much, with the amazing performance of that pigeon. Your secret is safe with me—it certainly must not be spread around. But I don't mind saying I'm glad it's you has that ability, not me," with a half-hearted laugh.
"It is a load," Hanlon admitted soberly, then brightened, "but it sure saved my neck when Bohr had me prisoner and was about to torture me."
The admiral looked surprised, then shivered. "The bees! I hadn't connected ...", his voice died away, and after another brief hesitation he left, while Hanlon slowly made his way outside, took a ground-cab, and was driven back to the hotel.
About five the next morning Hanlon was awakened by the stealthy sound of a key in the lock of his hotel room door. His hand slid swiftly under his pillow, and firmly grasped the blaster there.
As he saw the door open and a figure slip inside, in one swift movement he sat up, and switched on the bed light. "Up with those hands!" he commanded the man who was closing the door carefully, his back still towards the bed.