"Is he one of my staff officers, Loran?"
"There is no—"
"Which one?" And he named them through one at a time, including Makvern and Brinna, every one that was there, and they sat in the bright light with blank faces and fear in their eyes.
Loran said, "There is no Second Party."
"Let's be realistic about this," Varsek said. "Your friends, the men you're so nobly protecting, can't help you now. I'm the only one who can. I can have you up out of there in a minute, with the best medical attention and everything you need to fix you up. All you have to do is answer my questions. That's your duty, isn't it, Loran? Didn't you swear an oath of loyalty to Uryx and the government of Uryx, and to me as the duly appointed servant of that government?"
No answer.
"You're a young man, Loran. I don't imagine you love the idea of death. Why leap at it? Tell me the names of the disloyal officers you know, and you can live."
Loran said distinctly, "Go to hell."
Varsek gave the signal again.
The banked rods pulsed and flickered, and whatever nerve-searing, flesh-torturing force was in them went to work on Loran.