Jupiter was put through one of the worst ordeals of his life—all the more degrading because it was conducted in contemptuous silence.
The Anolyns took immediate possession of his mind. He was made to crawl out of his cage and stand stock still while they examined him like judges at a fat cattle show.
From time to time burning mental questions exploded in his brain. Jupiter was enough of a psychologist to know that they were intended to stimulate subconscious memory patterns.
He felt as if he'd been thrust into a press and all his information was being squeezed out of him like cider from an apple. But unlike his experience with Tabak, he could learn nothing from them.
The Anolyn maintained a perfect mental barrier.
In spite of that he began to sense that they regarded him with growing alarm. He could almost feel their control over him tighten.
At length he was directed out into the corridor, marched into a tiny bare cell. Not until the door closed on him with a small final click, did the Anolyn remove their control.
Jupiter sank white and shaken onto the hard, narrow bunk.
The cell was about ten feet square, windowless with walls of bare white plastic. The ceiling was plastered with a green phosphorescent mould, lighting it eerily. There was a single stool and a table and that was all.