He roared his name and titles at the door.
"I am Talent Andrew Sordman, Fellow for Life of the Guggenheim Foundation, by Senate Act Protector of the People! By the laws of our country, I ask the right to enter."
Silence.
"I am Talent Andrew Sordman, Fellow—"
"Go away, witch!"
Without drugs and preparation, Sordman needed visual contact to sense emotions. But he didn't need Talent to sense the hatred in that voice.
He pictured a rough block of stone.
Using a basic skill, he kept the picture in his mind as he opened the door and planned his words.
"I have taken no drugs and made no preparation. You have nothing to fear. I'm your Protector and I've come to talk."