“Why don’t you go back to your house and find it?” Alexander snapped. “As you are, you’re nothing but a disruption. I want you in on this meeting, but not the way you’re acting.”
“I’m not going to act any other way until I get some protection from peeping,” Kennon said grimly. “And if you think this is bad wait till I start going through comparative anatomy.”
“What’s the matter with you two?” Blalok asked.
“Be quiet,” Alexander snapped. “This isn’t your problem. Kennon is behaving like a spoiled child!”
“He’s a telepath!” Kennon said. “And he didn’t tell me.”
“So what? I’ve known that for years.”
“And you stand for it?”
“I’m a Mystic, not a Betan,” Blalok said. “I don’t have your insane desire for privacy.”
“Go find that thought screen if you still have it!” Alexander said. “I don’t want any more of this. You’re making me ill!”
Kennon grinned thinly as he rose to his feet. It was a good thing he remembered Alexander was squeamish and didn’t like anatomy. The door was to his left, an iris door with eight leaves—terribly old-fashioned. About ten steps away. Count them—one—two—three—