Medart frowned as the Sandeman carried out his torture. It was hard to believe anyone, particularly a Sandeman, could change so drastically in such a short time. His mindprobe of Gaelan DarShona, thirty years ago, had given him the experience of briefly being a Sandeman warrior, so he felt, as well as knew intellectually, how deeply unacceptable Keith would have found his present actions before he came under the influence of Cortin's Talent. Seeing a man stripped as part of punishment was no problem, that was normal Sandeman procedure for particularly serious violations. But handling another man's genitals was enough to earn death in disgrace if you lived that long--unlikely, since it was far more likely to get you killed on the spot. And while warriors enjoyed fighting, would torture for information, and a chief would inflict slow death for serious violations of custom, they didn't get any real pleasure from doing it. Nor would Keith have, earlier--but it was clear he enjoyed what he was doing, now. The Sandeman's smile grew as the prisoner's moves became faster, more urgent--and he climaxed in a prolonged series of spasms, screaming in agony. Keith turned to his chosen lady. "Was that satisfactory, Thakur?" "Most satisfactory," Cortin said with unconcealed admiration. "You've just given me--all Inquisitors, once I get it published--what promises to become an extremely useful standard technique, especially with rapists. I'll see you're given full credit, of course." She smiled at Keith. "You've also changed my plans for him. That degree of pain, administered repeatedly, can be lethal--and I can't think of a more fitting end for a rapist. We'll let him drip overnight, then give him a fresh dose and see how many times he can take what he forced on others. What do you think?" "I don't share your expertise, Thakur, so my opinion may not be valid. Still, it sounds appropriate to me." "So be it, then." Cortin smiled at him, approvingly. "Would you like to help? You seemed to enjoy yourself as much as an Inquisitor would, and Mike doesn't have that particular quirk; he helps because he loves me, not because he likes the work." Keith hesitated briefly before answering. "It surprises me, Thakur, that I did enjoy it. But I would not displace Captain Odeon from something that brings you two close." Cortin looked at her second in command. "What do you think, Mike?" "If he wants it, he's got it," Odeon replied promptly. Turning to the Sandeman, he went on. "As she says, I don't have the mental quirk that lets me like hurting people; I'd be glad to get out of the job." "It seems I do," Keith said. "At least since she wants this one to hurt, I took a great deal of pleasure in causing him as much pain as I could." "It's all yours, then," Odeon said promptly. "With my thanks, by the way--which I'll demonstrate later, if you want." "In the meantime," Cortin said, "I'm hungry. Let's go up to supper."