"You don't think so, at any rate," the director said. "You're having adventures—and a fine time. It's the sort of thing you like, after all."
Jonas shrugged mentally. "I suppose so," he said. "I like to work on my own, do my own job—"
"And it's got you into trouble before," Claerten said. "But you can't afford any mistakes this time."
"I know the risk perfectly well," Jonas thought back.
Claerten's thought carried a wry echo. "You know the risk to yourself," he told Jonas, "and you've accepted that. You rather like it, as a matter of fact. But you haven't thought of the risk to the rest of us—and to the town you're in."
Jonas sent a thought of uncertainty: "What?"
Claerten transmitted the entire picture in one sudden blow: the chance that Jonas would not be killed immediately, but would be discovered; the chance that the Inquisitor would get from him the secret of the Brotherhood—
"That's impossible," Jonas said.
Claerten sounded resigned. "Nothing's impossible," he said. "And if the secret is let out—why, the Brotherhood is finished. Finished before it's barely started. Because you can read a man's mind doesn't mean you can defeat him, Jonas."
"But you know what he's going to do—"