"Don't you believe a Corpsman should use all his abilities in his service?" The question was barked at him.
"Certainly, sir." But his eyes showed he realized he had been trapped by that admission.
"You're one of the few persons known who have ever actually been able to read another's mind. That's important—very important—to the Corps. It must be used!"
Hanlon's eyes were still stormy, but he kept his lips tightly closed.
The commandant's face grew kindly again. "We know how it got you into trouble when you were a boy, because the other children resented it, and avoided or abused you for using it on them. But now it will be a great assistance to you—and to the Corps. We know you will use that talent wisely, for it has been proven time and again, by test after test, that you are scrupulously honest. You've lost your allowance several times in card games, when you could have read what cards your opponents held, and so won. You have let yourself fail on examination questions you did not know, when you could have read the answers in your instructor's mind."
"No, not that, sir," Hanlon shook his head. "I never could read from a mind such specific information as answers to questions or to problems."
"I imagine that will come when you start using your talent maturely," Admiral Rogers shrugged indifferently. "But at the moment I want to talk very seriously about your assignment. First, however, I must have your most solemn oath never to reveal what I am about to tell you, for it is our most carefully-guarded secret."
"I swear by my mother's memory, sir, never to reveal anything I am told to keep confidential."
"Very well. I have been delegated by the High Command to ask you to join the Secret Service of the Inter-stellar Corps."
Cadet George Hanlon drew in a sharp, startled breath and half-rose from his chair. "The ... the Secret Service, sir? I didn't know there was one."