"As I said, a most useful talent. Not every Inquisitor can tell truth from lies intended only to stop the pain, and most of us who do have that ability have developed it through long experience." He smiled at her in a way Shannon sensed was intended to express only approval, but hid a degree of affection the Raidmaster found both disgusting and amusing. "Go on, then." Shannon watched critically as she began work. This would be a short interrogation--despite his bravado, the thief was a coward, and already terrified of the two Inquisitors--but it would tell him whether or not Cortin would make the grade. The first few minutes left him with no doubt that she would. Oh, she had some problems--the determination not to hurt innocents, as if there were any such thing, was one. Another was giving her prisoner the chance to answer without persuasion, then not wanting to use any more than she had to, though neither surprised him particularly; she had always been overly scrupulous. Which was probably why her primary motive was to extract information rather than to enjoy herself. It was ironic that she was enjoying herself, and thoroughly, even though it wasn't the same kind of pleasure he experienced in giving pain. For her, the only real passion involved here was for justice; criminals caused pain, so it was just to inflict it on them, either as punishment or in the interest of preventing further crime. It was simply more immediate this way than it had been in the past--and it gave her victims the unfortunate opportunity to repent. Even though right now Cortin was concerned with punishment rather than repentance. * * * * * Cortin removed the blood-spattered coverall, then went into the suite's small bathroom to wash her hands, feeling dissatisfied. She couldn't quite identify why, though; she had eventually persuaded the thief that she could tell when he was lying to her, and he had finally told them of his contacts within the Brotherhood, giving enough details that those two would be taken into custody next time they appeared in public. Neither theft nor contact with the Brotherhood were capital crimes, so once she'd made sure he knew nothing of Shannon or the horror raids, she'd called the guards and had him taken away for sentencing. Major Illyanov had said she'd done well, she reminded herself as she put her tunic back on. So why should she feel otherwise? The answer, of course, was that she shouldn't--but the fact remained that she did. Well, she'd be trying again after lunch, on that trooper who'd gone rogue; maybe she'd do better with him.