"All right--but it'll mean leaving the speaker on. Want me to mute him after I finish the preliminary, so you don't have to hear screams?" "I-- Yes, please." Blackfeather managed a shaky grin. "I never thought I was the squeamish type, but there's something about this kind of violence that bothers me, even when I know it's necessary." "That's normal," Cortin said. "Nothing to worry about, as long as you don't get carried away, like some Terrans did, and worry more about the criminal's pain than the victim's. Compassion is good, but you have to remember who deserves that and who deserves punishment." "I know--being squeamish doesn't mean I've gone soft in the head. I'd rather not butcher my own meat, either, but I'm grateful to the ones who do it." "Fair enough." God willing, she thought, Sara would never get over what she called squeamishness; humanity needed far more of that type than it did Inquisitors, or even regular Enforcement troopers. The prisoner spat as she approached him to begin her preliminary evaluation. "Do your worst, Bitch--you'll get nothing from me!" "So I have been informed, by a far more reliable source. I will be asking you no questions." Wait, though. And think aloud, for Sara. "Not immediately, at least. You have been protected against conventional questioning, even an Inquisitor's--but that means only that you cannot be forced to speak; it does not mean you cannot speak if you choose. Preliminaries first, however." Those went better than she had expected. Mike was developing a good ability to anticipate the way she intended to work on a subject, and had been careful selecting the areas to sensitize. When she finished her evaluation, she went to her cabinets, studying their contents. "I'm ready to silence him. Something that won't do more than minor damage, preferably, which leaves out surgery . . . yes, this should do." She removed a vial, filled a syringe, and returned to her subject. "My observer prefers that you not scream, and since I can tell from your reactions if you should wish to confess, I am free to oblige. Paralyzing your throat muscles should serve the purpose nicely." To her surprise, he didn't fight the injection. "Do you expect him to save you somehow?" The man shook his head, sneering. "To give you an easy death, then?" He shrugged. "You believe it possible, though he avoids me and did nothing to save you from Captain Odeon's beating." "On the other hand," Blackfeather said through the speaker, "he could very well be using your punishment for his own ends. He told me once that letting a failure die under an Inquisitor's questioning was a good preliminary to what would happen once said failure died and arrived in Hell." The man stiffened, mouthing Blackfeather's name.