"That's the latent ability. Sometimes full control is buried so deeply it takes something like a major catastrophe to wake the guy up to the fact he can use it." He smiled wryly. "Oh, he pushes people around once in a while--makes 'em uneasy when he's around--makes himself unpopular. But he's got no control. He's got to be awakened." "Yes, but--" "Uh-uh. It sounds simple, but it isn't." Michaels shook his head. "You don't just snap a finger in front of this fellow. You've got to provide him with real trouble. Pile it on him--until he gets so much pressure built up that he snaps himself into action. Makes a place like this useful." "I begin to see. You mean all this stuff I've been going through was sort of a glorified alarm clock?" "Yes. You could put it that way. That, and a trial assignment as a junior agent. Still want to be a Special Corpsman?" Stan looked around the office consideringly, then got to his feet. "I stood it without knowing what was going on. Even had a little fun once in a while. Maybe I could learn to like it if I knew what I was doing." He shrugged. "What's next?" Michaels shoved a stack of papers toward him. "Administrative details. You just can't get away from them." He took a pen from his desk. "After you sign all these, I'll get a couple of people in here for witnesses while we give you your oath. "It's practically painless."