Man of Many Minds, E. Everett Evans [online e reader txt] 📗

see what you've got." Newton settled down in a big chair to study the report, while Hanlon fidgetted about the room, anxiously.

"A very clear, concise and complete report, Spence," Newton applauded when he finished reading.

"Where do I send it, and to whom?"

His father looked at him quizzically. "Have you forgotten about the special mail box for SS men?"

The younger man looked astounded. "You mean, even a thing like this merely goes in there?"

Newton nodded. "However, in this case, since I would have been the one to pick it up, I'll take it to Base and transmit it to the Council. Incidentally, future reports should be marked on the envelope 'Report to Federated Council'."

A couple of hours later Admiral Hawarden called Hanlon at the hotel, where he had just finished making arrangements for Philander's operation and treatments.

"Your father and I want you to come to Base at once, sir."

When he arrived in Hawarden's private office, the admiral handed him a pair of silver bars. "These are yours now, Captain Hanlon."

The young man looked up in surprise.

"You were told promotions were swift in the SS—for those who produce," his father chuckled. "The Council was very gratified with your report, and ordered the promotion."

Hanlon looked at the two insignia, and his fingers stroked them almost tenderly.

"You miss the uniform, don't you, Spence?" sympathetically.

Hanlon gulped and nodded silently, very close to tears.

"Are you sorry you made the choice you did—to give all that up?"

A long, poignant moment of silence, then Hanlon threw back his head in a gesture of pride. "No, Dad. I'm honestly glad I did it. To be able to free those fine Guddus from slavery, and to save the Federation from that horrible plot—it was well worth the little suffering it'll cost me. But," and his smile was pathetic, "I do miss the uniform. I was so proud, wearing it."

A moment, then Hawarden spoke. "Here are the transcripts of the Bohr notes," and soon the two SS men were deep in the study of them. When they had finished some time later, they agreed it was a very comprehensive plan.

"But did you notice," Hanlon's eyes were cloudy, "he doesn't say a thing anywhere about the part his planet or system were to play in the conquest?"

"Yes, I'd noticed that." It was a duet from the two others, and Newton added, "For all there is here, you'd almost feel sure he was playing a lone hand."

"If that's true," Hawarden said thankfully, "none of the other men we've picked up matter—we might as well let them go."

"I'd say so," Newton agreed, "if we can prove Bohr was in this for himself, and was controlling them."

"From what I saw of him," Hanlon said seriously after a long moment of thought, "I'd say he was capable of trying it. He certainly had 'the will to power.' And he was no dummy—he had a really powerful mind. But he was cold beneath that suave, soft-seeming exterior. He was utterly without compassion, mercy, or any feeling of justice. He wouldn't care who or what was damaged as long as he could get what he wanted. I doubt if there was anyone he could really call a friend, or to whom he could talk in full confidence."

"Except possibly that bird you told ..." his father began, absently, when Hanlon interrupted with a whoop.

"Hey, that's it!" He jumped up and ran to the visiphone, and dialed the zoo. "Bring that toogan of Bohr's back to Base!"

"What, again?" the indignant curator asked.

"I'm sorry, sir, but this is probably the last time we'll need it. Please get it here immediately."

"What's the excitement?" Newton asked curiously.

"Your remark reminded me of something I noticed only dimly in its mind, and didn't pursue at the time."

While they were waiting for the bird, Hanlon asked, "What about the new ships? Have the experts got 'em figured out yet?"

"Not entirely. The hulls are about the same as the Snyder ships, only larger. But that new power system is so radically different they're going rapidly nuts trying to understand it. And they do have tractor-beams."

No sooner had the messenger left after delivering the toogan than Hanlon had it out of the cage, and perched on the arm of his chair. Then for nearly an hour he sat there, deaf, dumb and blind to all else while he explored every nook and cranny of that avian mind.

"Got it!" he yelled at last, and the bird, freed from control, sprang into the air and flew wildly about, seeking escape.

"What did you learn?" the admirals were as excited as he.

"We've nothing to fear. Bohr was entirely on his own. The people of his planetary system—Canopus—are so far advanced they live on a completely co-operative basis, every one instinctively working for the common good of all. Bohr was an atavism—they caught him trying to 'take over' there, and banished him. He came here, for his restless mind and savage urge to dominate others would not let him rest until he was absolute ruler of some world or system—the bigger the better from his viewpoint."

"And you got all that from a bird?" incredulously.

"Yes. You were right when you said Bohr didn't have a friend except the toogan. I think that's why he sort of liked me—perhaps he felt I would be one. All men have the need to talk to someone, some times, so Bohr chose this toogan, who is really quite intelligent, and who could talk back with him. The bird doesn't 'remember' it all, of course, but it's all engraved on his brain."

"That means, then," Newton said thankfully, "that we won't have to worry about a war with another system or galaxy."

"Yes, and that's a real help," Hawarden added. "Even one man, or entity, like Bohr, could have given us a bad enough time, and perhaps even wrecked the Federation."

"Well, I guess that winds it up except for a lot of detail work," Newton rose. "I've got to get back to my own job on Estrella. Hawarden, call the port and have them ready my ship, please. And it's been good seeing you again. Thanks for everything."

"Safe flights, Newton," and the admiral started calling the spaceport.

"You'll get your orders in a day or two about going back to Algon with the commission," Newton told Hanlon. "Might as well stay here until then."

After affectionate farewells he started out, then stopped, bursting into a laugh.

"What's the gag, Dad?"

"It just came to me that this was once where the son told the father all about 'the birds and the bees'."

"Well," Hanlon quipped, but kept his face straight. "I figured you were old enough now to know."

The End

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Man of Many Minds, by E. Everett Evans