It was no good arguing. She inspected the man carefully.
'Don't be alarmed. I'm Doctor Cr-'
'He really doesn't need to know your name. Or mine. Think about it/
She drew a deep breath. 'I am a doctor. I'm only going to check on your health. Do you have a name?'
He shook his head.
'He's using the name Eino Goran.'
'I see. Eino, this situation is unpleasant, but if you co-operate with me, and with Gr… with my associate here, it will work out for the best. Soon.'
Associate. I could feel the spiteful relish she put into that word.
Crezia looked at me disapprovingly. 'He needs to drink and eat. Drink particularly, in this heat.'
Tell him, not me.'
You need to drink, Eino. If you don't drink, I'll have to put you on a fluid drip/
He allowed her to feed him the dish, and sipped slowly.
Very good/ she said. Then to me, 'His bonds are far too tight/
'That's not going to change/
'Then get him up and walk him round a little. Tie his hands the other way/
'Later perhaps. If you knew what he was, what he has done, you wouldn't be so humane/
'I'm a officer of the Medicae Imperialis. It never matters what they've done/
We went back into the drawing room.
'His identity is emplated. I need to get past the barriers/
'To find out who he really is?'
To find out who he's working for/
'I see/ She sat down and bit at a fingernail. She always did that when she was troubled.
'You have medical stocks here. Zendocaine? Vulgate oxybarbital?'
'You're joking?'
I shook my head and sat down opposite her. 'Deadly serious. I need a psychoactive or at least an opiate or barbiturate to loosen his will power/
'No. Absolutely no way/
'Crezia…'
'I will not be party to torture!'
'It is not torture. I'm not going to hurt him. I just need to open his mind/
'No/
'Crezia, I am going to do it. I have the mandate of the Holy Inquisition to perform interrogation, and these circumstances permit me an even greater latitude of emergency powers. Wouldn't you rather it be done under your expert supervision?'
In the latter part of the afternoon, we brought the Vessorine inside, and put him in the box-room Phabes had cleared. There was nothing in the room but a bedframe and mattress. I removed his blindfold and then covered him with the autopistol as Aemos removed his bindings.
Crezia looked on, pointedly saying nothing about the weapon.
'Unfasten your tunic again/ I said.
Crezia started to say something but I cut her off. 'You'll need to get at his arm, won't you, doctor?'
There was another reason for getting him to disrobe. Aemos carefully studied the man's tattoos, making notes. The Vessorine just stood there, stripped to the waist, sullen. He refused to make eye contact.
I noticed he was slender but whipcord tough. The marks of old scars dotted his torso. I'd taken him to be a reasonably young man, but either he was older than he looked, or his short life had been barbarically tough.
Aemos finished. Til get it translated properly. But it's what I thought it was/ He turned to go downstairs. I stopped him and passed him the pistol.
'Cover him, please/
Aemos waited while I re-tied the mere's hands. I tied them in front of his body now, and then lashed his ankles together and tied off the end of that cord to the bedstead.
'Sit down/ I told him. He sat. I took the weapon back from Aemos, tucked it into my belt and sent him on his way.
'If you will, doctor?'
She looked at me. 'Just like that? Don't you want to give him the chance to volunteer first?'
There was no point, but I wanted to keep Crezia on side.
Tell me your name/ I said.
'Eino Goran/
Tell me your real name/
'Eino Goran/
I shot a warning look at Crezia and used the will. I focused it in the Ves-sorine's direction so she would be spared, but it still made her shiver.
He gurgled a non-verbal response.
'Now, please/
Crezia quickly injected twenty millilitres of zendocaine into the man's upper arm and drew back. Zendocaine is a psychoactive, a synaptic enhancer that causes a flurry of cortex activity disguised by a soothing opiate. The man coughed, and after a few moments his eyes took on a glassy sheen.
Crezia checked his blood pressure.
'Fine/ she said.
I placed my hand on the man's temple, and eased my mind into his. He was relaxed and offered no resistance, but his mind was lively. An ideal balance if I was going to prise off his emplated identity.
I tried a few test questions, both verbally and mentally. His answers were slurred.
'What is your name?'
'Eino Goran/
'What is your age?'
'Forty sstannard/
V/hat is your height?'
Two anna third kwen/ That was a good sign. I had no idea what a 'kwen' was, but I'd take a bet it was a Vessorine measure.
'Where are we?' I continued. 'Inna room.' 'Where is the room?' 'Inna house. Dunno.' 'On what world?' 'Gudrun/
'What colour is the sky?' 'Hnn, this sky?' 'Yes. What colour is this sky?' 'Blue.'
'What other sky might I have meant?' 'Dunno.'
'What is my name?' 'Gregor.'
'How do you know that?' I asked, without reacting. 'She call it you.'
Crezia glanced at me nervously. 'Who does that make me?' 'Dunno.'
'Who might I be? Who do you suppose?' 'Eisssnhorn.'
Why do you know that name?' 'Job.'
