"To run errands for you, make appointments, take care of anything you
don't want to or can't do yourself."
"I do not think I wish one. You seem to have no such need, and it
appears to be a waste of a person who could accomplish more useful
things elsewhere."
Medart nodded. "I've never used one for just those reasons. When we
run into Sunbeam, then, I'll tell her she can go back to her regular
duties."
"That will disappoint her, but she is much too able to be what I gather
is no more than a personal servant."
"Right. Well, we don't seem to be finding too much here; let's go on."
The two worked their way through the next several decks with equal lack
of result. There were a few screens here and there, but they found
nothing approaching the strength of a true shield, and Medart was
scowling.
Corina sensed beginning discouragement, and hastened to reassure him.
"Jim, we already know that Talent is even rarer among humans than it is
among Irschchans. We have encouraged and developed it for millennia,
and even to a certain extent bred for it. Humans have not, so I am
surprised to have found so many with even as limited a Talent as
shields. This ship has a crew of approximately two thousand, does it
not?"
"Just about. And no passengers this trip."
"Then assuming even half as many humans--in this picked group; the true
number, from Thark's experience, is far less--as Irschchans are at all
Talented, an assumption he would not credit, we can expect to find at
most ten, in addition to the ones we already have. Fewer would not
surprise me."
"And there are how many in the Prime Chapter?"
"Nine. The most dangerous are Thark, who is my problem, then Senior
Adepts Valla and Kainor, who I am afraid will be yours and perhaps
Colonel Greggson's, if his shield is as strong as I first thought."
"We should have some element of surprise with shields, shouldn't we?
From what you said, they won't be expecting even that much."
"True, but even shields will give only a temporary advantage. They
will adapt quickly, and they are powerful. You will have to use the
few seconds the shields give you to stun or kill them. I will be no
help there; Thark will be keeping me fully occupied. And I am sure
there will be Sanctioners to deal with, as well as the Seniors."
"Yeah. Well, if we're going to have any chance at all, we'd better
find ourselves that assault group. And it could take days, at this
rate; this is a damn big ship." He thought for a moment. "You did say
you can sense the presence of a shield. Isn't there any way you can
use that to speed this up, find them all today?"
"There is one way," Corina admitted, "but I dislike using it. I could
find shielded minds, then direct you to a nearby unscreened one to
determine location. That, however, involves probing many who lack
Talent."
"And I know how you feel about that. But you can't be absolutely sure
you've guessed Thark's timing right, can you?"
Corina shook her head. "No, I cannot. You are correct, the necessity
for speed is more important than my reluctance. Very well, but go no
deeper than you must to determine location."
"Right."
No longer interested in a physical search, the two Rangers found an
unoccupied passenger lounge and began the mental one. With Corina's
Talent and Medart's knowledge of the ship, it went quickly; they found
eleven, besides the known three, with enough shield to be worth further
testing. Hobison's, they already knew, was adequate, and Corina was
less than enthusiastic about meeting Greggson again, so they decided to
check with the young Sandeman first. His shield was strong, she knew
from the demonstration, and she knew his pattern from the combat
demonstration, which made it a simple matter to touch him, find someone
nearby, and let Medart identify his location. "Zero-gee gym," the
human Ranger said. "I think you're going to like what you see."
When they reached the mid-level observation platform glassed off from
the gym itself, Corina had to agree. Nevan was practicing
flight-shooting, clad only in exercise trunks that set off his dark skin.
Small and slender he might be, but there was no denying his strength or
his grace as he pushed himself off one gym wall, drew his bow in a
single smooth motion, and fired as he tumbled through the air.
"Beautiful," Corina said. "I have never seen a human move with such
economy or precision. That is a combat bow, is it not?"
"Instead of a practice one? Right--no target sights, and it's a lot
heavier. That one pulls close to seventy kilos. I can't even get the
string back ten centis, and he makes it look like nothing."
Nevan hit the far wall feet-first. There was the solid sound of him
kicking off again, the scream of a hollow pierced-shaft arrow, the thud
of it hitting the small remote-controlled target less than a centimeter
from the first. That was repeated half a decade times, with what
appeared to be effortless ease.
"Does he ever miss?" Corina asked as the Sandeman continued to shoot.
"I've never heard of it happening, and I'm sure it'd be all over the
ship in less than an hour if he did." Medart chuckled. "He spends
half his free time in combat exercises of one sort or another, after
all, not just the minimums for on-duty training. It's not as good as
combat, to their way of thinking, but it's better than what we standard
humans class as normal entertainment."
The two were silent then, for the couple of minutes it took Nevan to
run out of arrows and signal the target controller to end the session.
Then he dove for the floor, used a handhold to pull himself erect, and
switched off the gravity neutralizer that isolated the gym from the
ship's gravity field.
"Okay," Medart said. "That's it; let's get down to the dressing room
and wait for him to get into uniform."
"You stressed the need for speed," Corina said as they left the
observation platform. "Why do you not speak to him while he changes?
I cannot, I know; having a female around would embarrass a human male."
"Or vice versa." Medart grinned. "And Sandemans are even worse than
most that way. They don't even like to strip for a medical exam--which
they hate in the first place. I'd embarrass him every bit as much as
you would. I was worried about wasting days; we can spare a few
minutes."
"I do not understand, but I would not wish to offend him. We do want
his assistance."
Medart chuckled. "Don't worry, you'll get it. Just look at Gaelan's
memories if you think there's any chance of a Sandeman warrior passing
up any kind of honorable combat."
Corina did, and found herself amused at her doubt. "I see. But he
should still have the opportunity to refuse, with the odds so greatly
against the assault team."
* * * * *
It wasn't long before the dressing room door opened and Nevan emerged,
his blond hair still damp from the shower. He'd caught a glimpse of
the two Rangers watching his practice, so he wasn't really too
surprised to find them waiting for him, but he was wondering what they
wanted with a young First Lieutenant fresh out of the Academy. He came
to perfect Guidebook attention, waited.
"At ease, Lieutenant." Corina purred briefly. This one, she thought,
would truly be an asset. "I must ask if you would be willing to
volunteer for a particularly hazardous mission, one from which it is
entirely possible no survivors will emerge." She went on to explain
about his mental defenses and the opposition the assault team would
face. She wished she could read his thoughts, but after the first
mention of fighting, she had no doubt of his answer; not even Marine
discipline could make him hold back a smile, and his eagerness was
evident in his steel-gray eyes. "I believe that is everything," she
said at last. "The choice is yours, and you may refuse without
prejudice."