"Get your hands off me," he snapped to the guard as he was shoved into the room. "You have no right to—"
"Unfortunately, as a representative of the State he has every right," Kroll said calmly. He fed Wengrove's tape to the Inquisitor. The trial proceeded.
Wengrove was stubborn; it took half an hour to break him down at all, but when he did speak he sang freely, giving data on his cell of the Movement.
"Very good," the Inquisitor said when Wengrove finally coughed and said he knew no more. "You are completely exonerated from the charge of treason, in view of the information you have given."
The eyes in the bloody face lit up. "I'm free, you mean?"
"Unfortunately, no," the Inquisitor said. "Because of your danger to the State, you must be kept in Quarantine Camp, along with other diseased former members of society, until such time as we are able to clear your mind of its confusion. But you will not be punished."
"I won't be punished?" Wengrove repeated mindlessly.
"When the Inquisitor says something, it means it," Kroll said. "Take him away."
The next prisoner was Neil Leslie. He strode into the Inquisitor's Chamber without having to be pushed, and confronted Kroll defiantly. "My turn, eh?"
Kroll nodded. "Your companions have both been removed." He nodded meaningful toward the Inquisitor, whose claws were red with the blood of Florence Horniman and Chester Wengrove. "They both spoke most satisfactorily——after some persuasion."