"You go beyond the bounds of taste," Metas warned. "There is only one reason you are still alive, Allyn. You must consent to the mating as decreed."
"I cannot. It would mean Aleena's death. Besides, I love Marva of the Olmen."
Horror rippled through the Council.
"Take them to the Syko Room!" Metas thundered. "I will administer Hypno myself."
They were dragged to a side door, down a narrow corridor, into the thick doored syko room. Allyn knew it well—those white walls cunningly concealing lights and mirrors to stun the mind. The padded tables with bands of iron. He was pushed to a table, strapped down, flat on his back. Marva started toward him, but was flung back by a Gard and forced to stand against the wall beside her brother, while their captors stood with flame guns ready.
The stony faced Chief Logician adjusted switches. Lights dimmed. Mirrors of various colors danced light spots before Allyn's eyes. He felt his senses swimming. He clenched his fists. Sweat stood out on his brow.
Metas leaned over him, soft voiced, soothing. Allyn's mind strained against the lure. There was something he had to remember—a lesson, important as life itself.
Oh, how the lights spun! If he could sleep! Sleep! The voice lured—sleep!
"Allyn! RESIST!" Marva's voice! Then a Gard's fist silenced her.
RESIST! The key. Jon's words: "They can't hypno you unless you already believe. Don't believe! Resist!"