What about this one?' I walked over to join him by the prisoner he had cuffed to the chair. The man coughed and whined, rolling his eyes. Unless he possessed unnaturally boosted strength thanks to drugs or hidden aug-metics, this man wasn't muscle. He was older, spare of frame, with grizzled salt and pepper growth on his chin.
'You didn't kill this one deliberately, did you?' I asked Fischig. He smiled slightly, as if pleased that I had noticed.
'I– I have rights!' The man spat suddenly.
'You are in the custody of the Imperial Inquisition/ I told him frankly. 'You have no rights whatsoever/
He fell silent.
'Off-worlder/ Fischig said. I raised an eyebrow. Accent/ Fischig explained.
I'd never have detected it myself. This was one of the reasons I used local help whenever I got the chance, even a potential troublemaker like the chastener. My work takes me from world to world, culture to culture. Slight differences in dialect or incongruities of slang regularly pass me by. But Fischig had heard it at once. And it made sense. If this was a leader rather than muscle, one of Eyclone's chosen lieutenants, then the odds were he was from off-world.
'Your name?' I asked.
'I will not answer/
'Then I will not have that wound treated for a while/
He shook his head. The wound was bad and he was obviously in considerable pain, but he resisted. I was even more certain he was a ringleader. He was no longer shaking or whining. He had switched in some mental conditioning, no doubt taught by Eyclone.
'Mind tricks won't help you/ I said. 'I'm much better at them than you are.'
'Go screw yourself.'
I glanced at Fischig out of courtesy. 'Brace yourself.' He stepped back.
Tell me your name/1 said, using my will.
The man in the chair spasmed. 'Saemon Crotes!' he gasped.
'Godwyn Fischig/ spat the chastener involuntarily. He blushed and moved away busying himself with a search.
Very well, Saemon Crotes, where are you from?' I didn't employ any will now. In my experience, it took only one blow to loosen mental defences.
'Thracian Primaris/
'What was your job there?'
'I was trade envoy for the Bonded Merchant Guild of Sinesias/
I knew the name. Guild Sinesias was one of the largest mercantile companies in the sector. It had holdings on a hundred-plus planets and links to the Imperial nobility. It also, as Betancore had informed me just that morning, had a trade launch berthed at the Sun-dome landing stage.
'And what work brought you to Hubris?'
'That same work… as a trade-envoy/
'In Dormant?'
'There is always trade to be had. Long-term contracts with the authorities on this world that require the personal touch.'