Desperately he sent the rest of the flock swirling into the air, seeking other life-forms nearby. There were no other pigeons close enough to hear their calls nor to get there in time if they did, for the wounded bird was dying fast. Nor were there any dogs about, nor cats, nor animals of any kind to be seen. In desperation Hanlon even tried the trees or plants there, to see if they had minds like the Guddus--but none of them did. He dreaded to think what would happen if the brain that a portion of his mind was occupying died while in his control. Would that part of his mind then be lost? He had no way of knowing, nor was he anxious to chance it, for he was terribly afraid it would be so. And he certainly had proved he had no mind to spare, he thought in disgust. He had really made a mess of this mission. The only way he could get word to the Corps was through his body, and if he sent his mind back into that now he was a deader duck than he seemed to be. For even that twentieth part could be made to talk. _Why didn't those pigeons hurry?_ Yet he knew they were searching frantically. This was the weirdest sensation imaginable. People had often expressed the wish they, could be in two places at once ... he was in twenty. And each body was connected with the others by a thin thread of consciousness, yet was thinking and acting independently. His composite mind almost grinned. If anyone had told him a year ago such a thing was possible, he would have called for the paddy-wagon and rushed that person to the nearest nut-house. The other parts of his mind were flying all about the enclosed park that was a part of the great palace, searching, desperately seeking some other form of life that could be used as a housing for the dying part of Hanlon's mind. Suddenly one of them uttered a cry that drew the rest to it on swift pinions, to see attached to one of the trees a huge swarm of Simonidean bees. "Will the queen do?" the one mind-portion asked anxiously. There was a convulsive shudder in all the minds, for the birds knew--and Hanlon had heard--how deadly poisonous these native bees were; how they were hunted down and exterminated when found. They were twice the size, and many, many times more vicious and deadly than Terran bees. Even now two gardeners were running toward the tree with a great metal net and flame-throwers. But Hanlon was desperate. "She will have to do," the aggregate mind decided. Instantly, then, the part of his mind in the dying bird detached itself and entered the brain of the Queen Bee. There were long, disheartening moments of twisting and struggling to fit into that strange, vicious insect brain. He finally managed to take control, yet was not fully en rapport. Sight through her multi-faceted eyes was very nearly impossible with the little time he could give to learning their texture.