Aria had half risen from the chair. As the eyes of the policeman turned on her, she sank back.
"How opportune," the policeman continued. "The eve of your departures." The smile set on his mouth. His gun snapped up on a line with Thorus' heart. "No sudden moves, or you'll be burnt to a cinder. But no. That's what you want—a quick death. So let me threaten you with merely burning your legs off." The blaster lowered. "It may interest you to know we have a recording of your whole conversation. But there's something else."
His eyes holding Thorus, he gave a sharp command to two burly, bullnecked policemen. They stepped from the shadows and stood behind the commander. One held a small, black box.
"I see," the commander said, "You've had experience before with the truth clamps. You're frightened."
Thorus motioned the commander inside. "A little fear trickles through my hate."
The door swung shut behind the three policemen. Thorus glanced at Aria. Her fingers clutched the arms of the chair. He knew she was thinking of the blocks that had recently been installed in their minds by X-ray hypnosis. Would the blocks hold after three days? Three days, they both knew was the limit.
"It's your methods of escape we must have," said the commander. He motioned to one of the policemen.
Thorus watched the man step in front of him and raise the clamps to his forehead. He saw features that were thick and heavy, as though they had been roughly moulded out of too wet clay.
"You can see," the commander went on, "the tremendous advantage to us of being able to go into the macrocosm and toss meteors around like bits of corn, as you say." He glanced at Aria, who sat huddled in the chair, like a porcelain doll. "And then into the microcosm. Unlimited power. A whole new universe to conquer and colonize."
Aria did not move or speak.