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." He turned to Thorby. "We'll make out, if you're not too fussy. You traders live pretty luxuriously, I understand."
"Sir?"
"Yes?"
"Baslim was a colonel? Of your service?"
"Well . . . yes."
Thorby had now had a few minutes to think -- and old memories had been stirred mightily. He said hesitantly, "I have a message for you -- I think."
"From Colonel Baslim?"
"Yes, sir. I'm supposed to be in a light trance. But I think I can start it." Carefully, Thorby recited a few code groups. "Is this for you?"
Colonel Brisby again hastily closed the door. Then he said earnestly, "Don't ever use that code unless you are certain everyone in earshot is cleared for it and the room has been debugged."
"I'm sorry, sir."
"No harm done. But anything in that code is hot I just hope that it hasn't cooled off in two years." He touched the talker switch again. "Eddie, cancel the master-at-arms. Get me the psych officer. If he's out of the ship, have him chased down." He looked at Thorby. "I still don't know what to do with you. I ought to lock you in the safe."
The long message was squeezed out of Thorby in the presence only of Colonel Brisby, his Executive Officer Vice Colonel "Stinky" Stancke, and the ship's psychologist Medical-Captain Isadore Krishnamurti. The session went slowly; Dr. Kris did not often use hypnotherapy. Thorby was so tense that he resisted, and the Exec had a blasphemous time with recording equipment
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