The room swayed sickeningly. Sweat burst from his pores, made his sick white face glisten in the indirect lighting.
Then as sudden as it came, the fire smoldered and died out of his spine.
He heard the N.P.A. speak in an awed voice, "His torture coefficient is below his will to live. He'll die first."
Emil began to stride nervously back and forth before the lounge. He swung suddenly on Saxon, saying, "Look, that post on General Atomic's research bureau is still open. I can promise you three times your present salary, and a bonus besides."
"Liar," replied Saxon without hesitation. "I don't need a machine to tell you're lying." He laughed shortly.
The N.P.A.'s plump face looked puzzled. He made rapid adjustments on the machine, bent over the dials again.
"He's not lying," he said in a queer voice. "He knows you intend to kill him as soon as you squeeze him dry of information."
Saxon caught sight of Ileth's white, strained face and grinned at her. She had been as surprised, he read her thoughts, as himself at Emil's opportune entrance. Obviously, Emil had not been supposed to put in an appearance until she had a try at him first.
It was all verification that General Atomic was trying to steal the stellar drive. But Saxon had been able to catch only the scantiest of details from Emil's mind.