Part 12 (2/2)

”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.

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