A Matter of Honor Part 12

"That is hard to say," Corina replied thoughtfully. "It all depends on what Ranger Medart has planned for me. Right now, though, I would like a gla.s.s of milk." She started toward the service panel, but Sunbeam was already there.

"I'll get it for you," Sunbeam said. "I could use a gla.s.s myself."

"Thank you." Corina wasn't used to having others do things for her, but she sensed that Sunbeam was agitated about something and wanted to move around, so she sat in one of the armchairs, tucking her feet under herself.

She took the gla.s.s Sunbeam brought, enjoyed a deep swallow, then said, "What is disturbing you, Sunbeam? Can I help?"

"Well . . ." Sunbeam hesitated, then blurted, "It's that demonstration you gave yesterday. Stars above! The whole s.h.i.+p's talking about how you put down five top Marines with no more trouble than I'd have, oh, swatting a fly! I'm about half scared to be in the same room with you!"

"You should not be," Corina said, projecting amus.e.m.e.nt to try and calm the human Ensign. "I am the same person you met yesterday, and I certainly had no intention of frightening anybody."

Sunbeam ventured a half smile. "Maybe not, but you did a great job without meaning to, then."

"Are the Marines all right?"

"They're fine, from what I hear," was the slightly steadier reply.

"Except for their pride; that was pretty badly battered." Sunbeam paused, then grinned. "Four of them, anyway. That cute Sandeman keeps saying how pretty you are, and what a warrior you'd be if you'd been lucky enough to be born on Sandeman. If I didn't know better, I'd say he has a crush on you."

"I am quite content being Irschchan," Corina said, no longer needing to pretend her amus.e.m.e.nt. "Though I must admit his compliments are flattering . . . I do regret causing the others distress, though the demonstration was necessary. Nor was there any dishonor in their defeat; they did as well as possible for those who lack Talent."

Sunbeam looked more cheerful. "Maybe it would help if you told them so."

"I will, then, at the first opportunity."

"And you should see Colonel Greggson!" Sunbeam barely managed to suppress a giggle. "He's grumping around the s.h.i.+p like an old bear, snapping at everyone. I don't think he's too fond of you. Maybe I shouldn't say it, but he keeps talking about an oversized kitten making monkeys out of his men."

"He seemed to dislike me even before that," Corina said.

"Probably. He isn't too fond of non-humans, and he doesn't even like many of us. Sometimes I don't think he even likes himself. But there aren't many of that kind aboard Chang; most of our people are really nice. You'll like them."

There was another chime at the door. Without bothering to find out who it was, Corina called out, "Come in."

Medart entered, and she and Sunbeam stood.

"I'd like to talk to Sir Corina alone," he told Sunbeam. "Can you find something to keep yourself occupied till we're done?"

"Can I ever!" Sunbeam exclaimed happily. "I've been trying to finish that new xenology tape for days!"

Medart shook his head slowly, watching her leave with a lopsided grin.

Then he seated himself in the other armchair and gazed intently at Corina for several seconds. She returned the look with equal intensity, wis.h.i.+ng she could get through this unusual human's mind screen.

Finally he spoke. "I have to ask you something very important, Sir Corina. I don't want you to answer me now; I just want you to think about it for awhile. Will you do that?"

"Of course," she replied, puzzled by his strangely hesitant manner.

"I was talking to the Emperor again earlier today. I spent most of the morning studying your records, then told him what I'd found. We were both quite impressed." Medart paused, seeming unsure of himself, then hurried on. "We need more Rangers, especially non-human ones, and you more than qualify. We're--I'm asking you to consider joining us."

Corina's first reaction was to wonder about Medart's mental stability.

He couldn't possibly be serious!

No, from the look on his face, he was serious. "I cannot," she protested, shaking her head. "I have not even finished school--I am to graduate this summer, and Thark did not insist I join the Prime Chapter until then--I am only twenty-two, Standard, I could not possibly--"

"Hold it," Medart interrupted mildly. "You said you'd think about it before you answered. I'm keeping you to that."

"Urr . . . all right." Corina nodded reluctantly. She would not be graduating, or joining the Prime Chapter, or . . . She forced those thoughts from her mind. The past was past; she had to go on. "I did say that. But I will not change my mind."

"Don't be too sure," Medart said. "At least three of us said the same thing, and they're part of the group now."

Both were silent for almost a minute, with Corina trying to think of some way to change the subject, and at last she succeeded. "I have an idea I would like to try, Ranger, if you have no objection."

"That depends on the idea. What is it?"

It wasn't really a strong conviction, more of a feeling, but Corina said, "Unlike Thark, I believe that humans, at least some, do have Talent and simply do not know how to use it. Were you an Irschchan, with a mind s.h.i.+eld as strong as the one you certainly possess, I would be sure that your other Talents were equally strong. What I would like to do, if I can get past your screen, is to find out if that is the case. If it is, I would then teach you to use your Talent."

Medart sat in silent shock. Esper ability? Him? The psych people kept trying to find real espers, but until Corina revealed her Talent-- despite what she'd said about the Rhine experiments, he didn't consider them either complete or conclusive--he'd heard of nothing he found convincing. If he weren't adaptable, though, he wouldn't be a Ranger; after a few seconds, he said, "You really think there's a chance of that?"

"A chance--that is all I am certain of, but yes, I think there is."

"Let's try for it, then."

"One caution," she said. "Even if you have the potential I think possible from your s.h.i.+eld, I have never trained anyone before."

"That's all right. I'm willing to take the chance if you are."

"Very well. You will have to let down your screen, however, before we can accomplish anything. It would be best if you can drop it willingly, though since you were unaware of its existence, that may not be possible. If not, perhaps we can weaken it by inducing a relaxed emotional state. I will not attempt to break through with darlas, though I am sure I could, because it would be extremely painful at best, and it would probably damage or destroy your mind. Nor, most certainly, will I do what was done during the struggles to establish the Order."

Omnivorous curiosity was part of a Ranger's job description; Medart indulged his. "What was that?"

Corina's ears went back in distaste. "The infliction of systematic pain, weakening both the will and the ability to resist."

"I wouldn't want that," Medart agreed. "We try the voluntary part first, right? You'll have to tell me how to do it, though; until you said something about it yesterday, I never even considered the possibility of having one. And which is it--s.h.i.+eld or screen?"

"The terms are used interchangeably, though technically a screen is less powerful than a s.h.i.+eld. I will try to be more precise henceforth.

Yours is a s.h.i.+eld, and I am not sure I can tell you in words how to let it down; you may have to work that out. It can be described as a sort of mental force field, with your mind as generator and field both. You have to relax, deactivate the generator as it were."

Medart closed his eyes, leaned back in the chair, and relaxed all his muscles. Corina concentrated on his s.h.i.+eld, ready to slip through the smallest opening, watching his face as he tried something totally beyond his experience.

A sort of mental force field, Medart thought. He knew how to turn off a standard field; all that took was touching a control. This was a lot more nebulous. He didn't have any switches to throw or dials to turn, he had to deactivate part of himself. Relax, she'd said. What were a couple of those tricks Jasmine had tried to teach him?

Deep breathing, he remembered. That was supposed to help, as long as you didn't overdo and hyperventilate. In and hold, then out and hold was the pattern. He began the exercise, doing the best he could to relax--though he couldn't help wondering how he'd know if he succeeded.

After what seemed like an hour, he opened his eyes. "How'm I doing?"

"I noticed no reduction in field strength," Corina said. "You are too--it is difficult to put properly. Defensive, perhaps, or suspicious.

If this is to work, you must trust me." She thought for a minute, then took the dagger from her belt and held it out to the Ranger, hiding a wince of antic.i.p.ation at his touch. "Perhaps it will be easier if I am not armed."

Medart took the soul-blade, too surprised not to. Unlike Dawson, he knew the blade's significance, and could appreciate Corina's action.

She had to be really determined about this working, he thought.

Thark's betrayal must have hurt even more than he'd gathered earlier.