The admiral leaned forward and spoke impressively. "Do you think, Cadet Hanlon, that we would let any man get to within weeks of graduation without knowing all about him?"
The young man's eyes widened, and his hands clutched at his knees in an effort to keep them from shaking.
"Oh, yes, we know all about you, George Spencer Newton Hanlon," and the cadet's eyes opened even wider at that name. "We know about your talent for mind-reading as a child, and how you suppressed it as you grew older and found how it got you into trouble. We know all about your father's disgrace and disappearance; your mother's death; your running away, and your adoption by the Hanlons, whose last name you assumed."
"How ... how'd you learn all that, sir?"
"The Corps has its ways. And that's why you're here now. Oh, all the Fifth Year Cadets will be interviewed by myself or my assistants this coming week, to determine their first assignment after graduation. But I called you in today for a very, very special reason. And your ability to read minds is part of it."
The cadet drew himself up stiffly. "I'm through with all that, sir, definitely!"
The commandant regarded him enigmatically for a moment. "Just what do you expect to do in the Corps, Mister?"
"Why, whatever I'm assigned to do, I suppose, sir. Or whatever I can do."
"And just how far will you go for the Corps?" The admiral leaned forward and eyed him critically.
"All the way, sir, of course."