The non-com looked up. "What's the purpose?" That, Thane was sure, was
the correct translation of the Onzarian. Not 'charge,' not 'offense,'
but 'purpose.' It was a one-word explanation of Candar's whole system
of justice.
"... and she claimed to be an acolyte of the church," the bigger guard
was saying. "Gave the name of a registered acolyte and everything. And
funny thing, the Priestess of Keltar vouched for her. Had to let her
go. But then we found out that the acolyte she was supposed to be was
across the continent, in Akra. We picked her up just as she was
leaving the cathedral." At the end of his long speech, the guard
sucked in his breath and blew it out, hoarsely.
The non-com merely sighed, picked up his pad of forms, and began his
questions. Astrid answered most of the questions in a monotone. She
gave no sign that she had seen or recognized Thane. He noticed that on
a few of her questions, her voice went up. He saw why.
The non-com had finished the body of his form and was filling in the
"remarks." His stylus poised, he asked, "Why did you go to the
priestess?"
Astrid's voice went up as she answered, "She's all right." Then her
voice went back to a dull monotone. "I--I was confused. After I'd told
them I was in the church I thought she would help me. But she
couldn't."
"What were you trying to do?"
"I've done everything," she said in that slightly altered tone. "I
don't know what I was going to do. I've been so confused." She bent
her head and began to sob.
"Take her away," the non-com said. The two guards led her into the
cell block. As they left, the intercom buzzed beside the non-com. He
answered and gestured to Thane. "Time for you, Mister. Stand up and
wait."
Two officers of the guard entered. The gold on the uniform of one
indicated that he was at least a commander. They took him between
them, without a word, and went out.
The wind tore at them as they walked across the palace court. Each
sentry snapped to attention as they passed. Inside, they were
inspected formally by a guard and more efficiently by a battery of
detectors. They hurried on. After halls, corridors, steps, grav-wells,
and more guards, they reached the door. One final check and they were
through.
_Glistered_--that was the word--the whole room glistered. Gold inset
in the wall panels. Golden arms on the chairs. Gold plating on the
ceiling. A gold shagell, wings outstretched, at one corner of Candar's
enormous desk. And Candar, in a perfectly plain uniform, staring up at
him from behind the desk. His own expensive way, Thane considered, for
showing his contempt for the gold fetish of the church.
Candar looked up at him steadily for a moment without speaking. Then:
"I always greet the emissaries from the Allied Systems personally.
They always have so much of interest to tell us in one way or another
sooner or later."
Thane stared back and said, "You are right. I have information that
will save Onzar if I give it to you. Perhaps, using your methods, you
could get it eventually. Perhaps not. But eventually is too late,
Candar."
Candar picked up a small gold knife. "Go on," he said, "but do not
bluff. I do not like bluffs."
"There is no question of bluffing," Thane said impatiently. "But there
are other matters that must be settled before I will go on."
"Just what would you have us settle, spy?" Candar asked sardonically.
"First, the matter of my own immunity. I'm being hunted throughout the
Galaxy. The Allied Systems are searching for me. Darzent agents have
attacked me twice. I have disregarded orders and I'm about to commit
treason if I'm assured of safety."
Candar put down the knife and leaned forward. His voice showed his
reluctant interest as well as his habitual suspicion. "Tell me why,
spy. Why should I assure your safety?"
Thane said scornfully, "I didn't say that you should assure it. I said
I wanted it assured. And it will be. If it isn't, you'll be wiped out,
and what's left of the Onzar system will be in slavery."
"You may think, Systems Spy, that you know the kind of death you will
die if this is a trick," Candar said slowly and coldly. "But you do
not. There are specialists here, experts whose life work is the
gradual dispatching of men who try to trick Candar." He paused for a
moment. "If you can prove what you say, I, Candar, will personally
guarantee your safety and immunity."
Thane snorted. "You'll get your proof, but not on your personal
guarantee. You'll transfer me to the custody of the church on the
condition that I'll be turned back to you if I can't prove everything
I say."
Candar pushed himself to his feet. Thane could see the veins throbbing
in his forehead. "That's enough!" The harsh voice mounted to a roar.
"You have insulted Onzar and its ruler." He turned to his officers.
"Take him out. We'll see what he knows, and how much he can stand
before his death."
* * * * *
The room they entered was a spotlessly clean room, an antiseptic room.
Thane wondered how often the blood was scrubbed from the floor as he
recognized the instruments.
They pushed him into a chair and strapped him down. "Now let's see
what he'll take," Candar said. The commander himself applied the
fittings and turned on the switches. Then the pain came. In long
shivering waves. No body pain. Just pure pain, applied directly to the
synapses of his brain. It was unbearable--and then it got worse. It
went up and up. Through a dim red haze, Thane saw Candar shove the
dial up still another notch. Then he blanked out.
As he came back he looked up at them. Stinging drops of sweat blurred
his vision but he managed to smile. "Now try your psychograph. Just
try it. Here's what you'll read: _conditioned against physical
torture. Brain waves lack stable pattern. History inconsistent.
Standard drug susceptibility predicted negative._ Then decide,
friends, if I'm bluffing."