"We can clear that up," he said quickly. "As a matter of fact, I was just getting around to it. We will now proceed to shed a little light on the subject—said subject being our old friend Mr. Bottle."
The trick had been taught to him by Venus, but he'd never had a chance to practice it. This was his first real experience with it, and he could only hope that it went off as it was supposed to.
He stepped into the middle of the circle, near Ed Symes's stiff body and held his right hand above his head, thumb and forefinger spread an inch apart and the other three fingers folded into his palm.
Then he concentrated.
A long second ticked by, while Forrester tried to apply even more neural pressure. Then ...
A small ball of light appeared between his thumb and forefinger, a yellow, cold sphere of fire that shed its radiance over the whole group. Carefully, he withdrew his hand, not daring to breathe. The ball of yellow fire remained in position, hanging in mid-air.
The muffled gasp from the circle of girls was, Forrester told himself, a definite tribute.
"Now don't worry about it, girls," he said. "That light's only visible to the eight of us. Nobody else can see it."
There was another little series of gasps.
Forrester grinned. "Can everybody see each other?"