The Alembic Plot Part 59

The man nodded.

"I'm sure you've heard the usual rumors of my methods; it should be at least a little rea.s.suring that you're dressed and in this suite's office, rather than hanging naked in my third-stage room."

The man nodded, mouthing, "Why?"

"Because, as Ranger Medart said, I have several reasons to wonder about your guilt." She detailed them, ending with, "In particular, the fact that you were muted, apparently to keep you from talking to me--which is the only way I can rely on my truthsense for more than basics.

Since I knew the Imperials were coming, and that they had a method--not this one, though it should be equally effective--which would insure truthful, if non-verbal, responses, I used my prerogatives as High King's Inquisitor to postpone your execution, and if my suspicions prove well-founded . . . we'll see. Does that help?"

Shelton nodded, with Medart agreeing. "The fear's going, Colonel; his primary emotion now is grat.i.tude. When that fades a bit, I'll be able to read him."

"Grat.i.tude," Cortin said, her expression grim. "He is innocent, then.

I owe you a personal debt, Ranger; I have never harmed, much less executed, anyone who didn't deserve it. Thanks to your a.s.sistance, this will be no exception."

"My pleasure," Medart told her. "I think he's settled down enough now for me to get through without hurting him." He closed his eyes, concentrating on the prisoner. The light touch needed for simple communication wouldn't be enough, though he paused briefly at that level to rea.s.sure the other. *Mind-reading is painless, Shelton, even though I'm going to have to go deep enough for direct memory access. I won't trigger the memories, so you won't have to relive them; I'll just copy them to myself, so I can report accurately to Colonel Cortin.*

*I understand.* The man was nervous--naturally enough, Medart thought--but there was a basic stability to him the Ranger liked. *Do what you have to--and G.o.d bless you for helping.*

*Thank you.* With that Medart went deeper, scanning memories until he found the relevant set. They were as nasty as he'd expected, and he didn't like the idea of experiencing them, but to accomplish his objective, he didn't have any choice. He "reached" for them.

Cortin watched with interest but no understanding as the Ranger closed his eyes and sat silent for several seconds. Then he shuddered, tensing, and she watched sweat stains appear and grow on his uniform.

By the time he opened his eyes again, almost half an hour later, he was soaked and looked exhausted. She wanted to ask about her prisoner, but instead said, "Are you all right?"

"I will be after a bath and nap," Medart replied. "Reading minds, except for the simplest communication link, isn't like reading a book; on any deeper level, you share the other person's thoughts--and feelings. This is my third time at that level, and by far the worst."

He stood, moving around to ease the kinks. "He's committed no crimes, Excellency, but he's d.a.m.nsure been the victim of some. He's a small farmer; he and his family were sitting down to supper one evening when several men broke in. They restrained him while they killed his family, making sure he knew they were making it look like he'd done it.

Then they changed to Enforcement Service uniforms and took him to an Inquisitor. The Inquisitor already had his report written; all he did was cut out Shelton's tongue and beat on him to make it look like he'd resisted interrogation. When that was over, the phony troopers took him to a judge, who sentenced him to you. The rest you know."

Cortin didn't even try to hide her cold anger. "I'll need more details, of course, but that's enough to let me get started. Did you happen to check on whether he was given the Sacraments?"

"Sorry, that didn't occur to me." Medart sent a quick thought. *Were you?*

*By the Brotherhood?* Shelton's thought was bitter. *No, and I need them--if you'll help me with Confession?*

"I'm Omnist, not Catholic," Medart cautioned aloud. "I'll relay if you want, though, and anything you say will be treated as Empire Secret."

*Please.* Shelton's thought held a trace of wan humor. *You have some of my memories; why should I mind you reporting some of my sins?*

Medart managed a chuckle. "Put that way, no reason."

"Ego te absolvo in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen."

"Amen," Medart relayed. "He'd like Communion, but without a tongue, he's not sure he can manage." He paused, grinned. "We may be able to help there, too, unless you've developed regrowth techniques."

"Spiritual Communion is as effective as physical," Cortin reminded the penitent, "though I admit it doesn't feel the same." She turned to the Ranger. "We don't have regrowth, no, but I do seem to remember hearing something about it. Only as a rumor, though."

"It's quite real. We learned it from the Traiti, and the Lindner's doctors are trained in the procedures. Initiating it will only take a few hours, but the regrowth itself usually takes a couple of weeks."

"A couple of weeks shouldn't matter, and since it's possible, it should be part of his rest.i.tution. What will such treatment cost?"

"No charge," Medart said. "Civilians can be treated at military facilities if there's s.p.a.ce and what they need isn't otherwise available, both of which are true here." He turned to the Sandeman.

"Take him up to the s.h.i.+p when Colonel Cortin's done, please."

"Yes, sir."

"I'd suggest," Cortin said, "that you bring a few extra bodyguards when you come back, Lieutenant. I learned from an earlier prisoner that Imperials are at the top of the Brotherhood's wipe list, and after the way he helped me today, Ranger Medart will be a particular target."

Medart frowned. "A Sandeman warrior's the only bodyguard I've had since they joined the Empire. And that's more symbol than necessity."

"In the Empire, maybe so," Cortin said. "For a major Brotherhood target, a bodyguard is a necessity. And it's a good idea to have physically impressive ones. Despite their abilities, Sandemans are impressive only to people who're familiar with them, which most in the Kingdom Systems aren't."

"You're the expert here," Medart said. "Okay. Keith, ask Colonel Williamson to detail me a standard team, the biggest people he's got.

You'll be in charge of them, of course. Oh, and you can stay aboard overnight, if you'd like."

"Yes, thank you, sir." Keith smiled briefly, and Medart hid a grin.

If Cortin thought he should have physically impressive bodyguards, that could be arranged--along with an evaluation of the Systems' att.i.tude toward non-humans, though if it weren't for her suggestion, he'd have put that off for a while yet.

"Good," Cortin said. "Captain Odeon, would you show Ranger Medart to his suite, please?"

"Of course, Colonel. If you'll come with me, sir?"

30. Interview

Upstairs in the Family section, Odeon turned to Medart. "Thanks for helping her, Jim. That's one the Brothers hadn't tried before, tricking her into executing an innocent man."

"It was a nasty frame, all right, for both of them," Medart agreed.

"She seems to take a lot of pride in confining her torture to criminals; killing someone who didn't deserve it under your laws, even if it was on false evidence, I'd say would be a major blow."

"One that would lessen her effectiveness, and that'd be a major victory for the Brotherhood." Odeon led Medart to one of the Lodge's guest suites and showed him in. "This is yours as long as you want to stay.

If you'll authorize one to go aboard your lander, a servant will bring your baggage."

"d.a.m.n--I forgot you don't have fabricators." Medart touched his throat, activating his comm implant. "Empress Lindner?"

When the s.h.i.+p answered, he went on. "Have a standard travel kit made up for me, please, for an indefinite stay. Lieutenant DarElwyn will be up shortly; he can bring it with him when he comes back. Medart out."

"You can communicate with your s.h.i.+p with no equipment?" Odeon asked.

"Not exactly; the equipment's in my throat and behind my ear. It's called a comm implant, and most senior Imperials have them. Normally I initiate the contact the way you just saw, but the s.h.i.+p can contact me if necessary, or I can tell it to monitor full-time if I think there could be a need."

"Still a lot I don't know," Odeon said ruefully. "I'd recommend the latter whenever you leave the Lodge." He hesitated, then asked abruptly, "How do you feel about Joan?"

"I'm not in love with her, if that's what you're asking."

"It was, but how--oh. You felt it when you mind-touched us right at first. I'm not surprised; you don't seem the type to become an Enforcement trooper. In case you're worried, that's the only personality type she has that effect on. I'd say the Sandeman is, though."