"I see she refuses to face reality." He turned to Thorus. "But you will face reality—and so will she when we've finished. Had you conducted your experiments in behalf of the Authority, you would have been well rewarded. But no, you have been working against us—however, it has been for the Authority after all."
Thorus felt the clamps tight on his temples, like two steel fingers. Sitting stiffly on a chair, he felt sweat on his back and chest, felt it seep from his forehead down into his eyes, felt the burn of salt. There was tightness all through him as he waited for the first shock. His fingernails cut his palms. His breath stopped. His shoulders and arms hardened, stretched tight his tunic.
The commander flicked his finger at the one kneeling before the little black box. This one tripped a lever. A soft hum seemed to rise from the box and fill the room.
Thorus listened to the hum grow until it was a soft, high pitched scream. He closed his eyes. The next instant a shattering blow ripped through every inch of his body. Fire ran along his nerves. He felt his lips grimacing away from his teeth, felt the corners of his mouth stretching back to his ears. Oh God, oh God, he cried out in silent agony. Hold back my screams. Then he heard himself groan. He cut off the sound of it. Choked. Heard a growl deep in his chest. Lights flashed in his eyes and there was a tearing apart through his whole body. A squeezing together rushed all around him and an insane pounding and pulling as though his flesh were being beaten and clawed from his bones. Time dropped away from him until it seemed he had never been aware of anything but this agony. Then he was empty of sensation. He felt himself fall forward, felt heavy hands catch him roughly and set him upright. The soft voice of the commander flowed into his mind like a voice from outer space:
"You will tell us your method of going into the macrocosm. The equations, the type ship, its propellent, where the ship is hidden."
Thorus felt enveloped in a void.
The voice of the commander droned on. "All we need is a clue. We'll work out the rest."
Life and feeling and thought were surging back into Thorus now. Strength filled his muscles again. Sight came into his eyes. Again he sat straight and stiff on the chair. The block held, he thought. It held and they cannot know now!
"Speak!" The commander's voice rose. "Damn you!" He seized Thorus by the hair. "You've blocked off the information. I'll see both of you tortured until you'll wish to kill each other. Then we'll try the clamps again." He smashed his fist into Thorus' face.
On the instant the commander pulled back his fist, Thorus reached out and jerked the blaster from his belt. His foot came up hard against the man's groin. There was a grunting cry of pain. Thorus fell backward off the stool, pressing the blaster trigger as he hit the floor. He saw blood gush from the commander's middle, saw him pitch sideways, like a broken statue, heard Aria's scream. The clamps pulled from his head. He swung the gun's muzzle to the two policemen, clawing at their holsters. The blaster struck out, a long coughing hiss, a spray of flame. There were cries and gasps and jerking and clutching and the scrambling fall of the two bodies.