The chamber beyond was windowless, its sole ornamentation a screen on which a computer projected colored patterns. Kzin-type seats, desk, and electronics suggested an office, but big and mostly empty. In one corner a plastic tub had been placed, about three meters square. Within stood some apparatus, and a warrior beside, and the drug-dazed telepath huddled at his feet.
The prisoners' attention went to Hraou-Captain and another — lean and grizzled by comparison — seated at the desk. “Show respect,” Markham directed. “You meet Werlith-Commandant.”
Tregennis bowed, Ryan slopped a soft salute.
The head honcho spat and rumbled. Markham turned to the men. “Listen,” he said. “I have been in… conference, and am instructed to tell you. Fido has been found.”
Tregennis made a tiny noise of pain. Ryan hunched his shoulders and said, “That's what they told you.”
“It is true,” Markham insisted. “The boat went to Prima. The interrogation aboard Rover led to a suspicion that the escapers might try that maneuver. Ya-Nar-Ksshinn — call it Sun Defter, the asteroid tug, was prospecting. The commandant ordered it to Prima, since it could get there very fast. By then Fido was trapped on the surface. Fenger and Yoshii broadcast a call for help, so Sun Defter located them. Just lately, Fido has made a new broadcast which the kzinti picked up. You will listen to the recording.”
Werlith-Commandant condescended to touch a control. From the desk communicator, wavery through a seething of radio interference, Juan Yoshii's voice came forth.
“Hello, Bob, Dorcas, Laurinda — Kam, Arthur,… If, if you hear — hello from Carita and me. We'll set this to repeat on different bands, hoping you'll happen to tune it in somewhere along the line. It's likely goodbye.”
“No,” said Carita's voice, “it's 'good luck.' To you. Godspeed.”
“Right,” Yoshii agreed. “Before we let you know what the situation is, we want to beg you, don't ever blame yourselves. There was absolutely no way to foresee it. And the universe is full of much worse farms we could have bought.
“However—” Unemotionally, now and then aided by his companion, he described things as they were. “We'll hang on till the end, of course,” he finished. “Soon we'll see what we can rig to keep us alive. After the hull collapses altogether, we'll flit off in search of bare rock to sit on, if any exists. Do not, repeat do not risk yourselves in some crazy rescue attempt. Maybe you could figure out a safe way to do it if you had the time and no kzinti on your necks. Or maybe you could talk them into doing it. But neither one is in the cards, eh? You concentrate on getting the word home.”
“We mean that,” Carita said.
“Laurinda, I love you,” Yoshii said fast. “Farewell, fare always well, darling. What really hurts is knowing you may not make it back. But if you do, you have your life before you. Be happy.”
“We aren't glum.” Carita barked a laugh. “I might wish Juan weren't quite so noble, Laurinda, dear. But it's no big thing either way, is it? Not any more. Good luck to all of you.”
The recording ended. Tregennis gazed beyond the room — at this new miracle of nature? Ryan stood swallowing tears, his fists knotted.
“You see what Saxtorph's recklessness has caused,” Markham said. “No!” Ryan shouted. “The kzinti could lift them off! But they— tell his Excellency yonder they're afraid to!”
“I will not. You must be out of your mind. Besides, Sun Defter cannot land on a planet, and carries no auxiliary.”
“A shuttle— No. But a boat from the warship.”
“Why? What have Yoshii and Fenger done to merit saving, at hazard to the kzinti for whom they only want to make trouble? Let them be an object lesson, gentlemen. If you have any care whatsoever for the rest of your party, help us retrieve them before it is too late.”
“I don't know where they are. Not on P-prima, for sure.”
“They must be found.”
“Well, send that damned tug.”
Markham shook his head. “It has better uses. It was about ready to return anyway. It will take Secunda orbit and wait for an asteroid that is due in shortly.” He spoke like a man using irrelevancies to stave off the moment when he must utter his real meaning.
“Okay, the warship.”
“It too has other duties. I've told them about Saxtorph's babbling of kamikaze tactics. Hraou-Captain must keep his vessel prepared to blow that boat out of the sky if it comes near — until Saxtorph's gang is under arrest, or dead. He will detach his auxiliaries to search.”
“Let him,” Ryan jeered. “Bob's got this whole system to skulk around in.”
“Tertia is the first place to try.”
“Go ahead. That old fox is good at finding burrows.”
Werlith-Commandant growled. Markham grew paler yet, bowed, turned on Ryan and said in a rush: “Don't waste more time. The master wants to resolve this business as soon as possible. He wants Saxtorph and company preferably alive, dead will do, but disposed of, so we can get on with the business of explaining away at Wunderland what happened to Rover. You will cooperate.”
Sweat studded Ryan's face. “I will?”
“Yes. You shall accompany the search party. Broadcast your message in Hawaiian. Persuade them to give themselves up.”
Ryan relieved himself of several obscenities.
“Be reasonable,” Markham almost pleaded. “Think what has happened with Fido. The rest can only die in worse ways, unless you bring them to their senses.”
Ryan shifted his feet wide apart, thrust his head forward, and spat, “No surrender.”
Markham took a backward step. “What?”
“Your mother's motto, ratcat-lover. Have you forgotten? How proud of you she's going to be when she hears.”
Markham closed his eyes. His lips moved. He looked forth again and said in a string of whiperacks: “You will obey. Werlith-Commandant orders it. Look yonder. Do you see what is in the comer? He expected stubbornness.”
Ryan and Tregennis peered. They recognized fiume and straps, pincers and electrodes; certain items were less identifiable. The telepath slumped at the feet of the torturer.
“Hastily improvised,” Markham said, “but the database has a full account of human physiology, and I made some suggestions as well. The subject will not die under interrogation as often happened in the past.”
Ryan's chest heaved. “If that thing can read my mind, he knows—”
Markham sighed. “We had better get to work.” He glanced at the kzin officers. They both made a gesture. The guard sprang to seize Ryan from behind. The Hawaiian yelled and struggled, but that grip was unbreakable by a human.
The torturer advanced. He laid hands on Tregennis.
“Watch, Ryan,” Markham said raggedly. “Let us know when you have had enough.”
The torturer half dragged, half marched Tregennis across the room, held him against the wall, and, claws out on the free hand, ripped the clothes from his scrawniness.
“That's your idea, Markham!” Ryan bellowed. “You unspeakable—”
“Hold fast, Kamehameha,” Tregennis called in his thin voice. “Don't yield.”
“Art, oh, Art—”
The kzin secured the man to the frame. He picked up the electrodes and applied them. Tregennis screamed. Yet he modulated it: “Pain has a saturation point, Kamehameha. Hold fast!”
The business proceeded.
“You win, you Judas, okay, you win,” Ryan wept.
Tregennis could no longer make words, merely noises.
Markham inquired of the officers before he told Ryan, “This will continue a few minutes more, to drive the lesson home. Given proper care and precautions, he should still be alive to accompany the search party.” Markham breathed hard. “To make sure of your cooperation, do you hear? This is your fault!” he shrieked.
“No,” Saxtorph had said. “I think we'd better stay put for the time being.” Dorcas had looked at him across
