us that—”
“What they used to call psychological warfare, but taken up a notch,” J.B.
interrupted. “I saw some old vid once about it. They’ve got so much stuff in
this redoubt, most of it in some kind of running order. Why not a comp of some
kind that could show us our fears?”
“It worked all right,” Ryan reflected. “I tried to hold out, but when Dean was
threatened, I just caved in.”
“You shouldn’t worry about me,” Dean cut in angrily. “I stand or fall as one of
us like everyone else. Don’t treat me like a kid.”
“Point one, you are still a kid. Point two, Ryan’s not saying he did it because
of that. Are you, lover?” Krysty waited for Ryan to acknowledge before
continuing, “The point is simply that he couldn’t hold out because something in
his mind wouldn’t let him.”
“And that worries me,” Ryan said, looking at J.B., who returned his gaze.
“I’m with you there. If we get a chance to break, what’s it going to do to us
all?”
“May I offer the suggestion that the only way to find out is to actually make
that break?” Doc mused slowly. “I would hazard a guess that part of the effect
is simply to make us doubt ourselves.”
“That makes sense,” Mildred said with a nod.
Jak shrugged. “All talk, need action. Mebbe make some?” He glanced at Ryan.
The one-eyed man was about to answer when the door to the dormitory swung open,
and Murphy stood in the doorway, flanked by two sec men. He had obviously
learned a lesson from Panner’s death, as both sec men had their blasters trained
on the prisoners.
He pointed at Mildred. “You’re next.” He crooked his finger and beckoned her.
“Come on, baby. Time to answer a few questions. If you answer them right, then
you may get a reward.” He leered at her, and the two sec men flanking him broke
their impassive stares to smile cruelly.
The black woman stood without a word, and walked out of the room, between the
two sec men. Murphy closed the door, but not before muttering “You just be good”
in a sneering tone to those left behind.
MILDRED WAS TIED to the cane chair, just as Ryan had been. Murphy stood on the
edge of the pool of light, partly shrouded by shadow.
“So what comes next?” Mildred asked with a bravado she didn’t really feel.
Despite her efforts to quell the uneasiness in her and keep the fear at bay, it
crept up on the corners of her mind. Such had been the strength of her dream
state under the trank darts that she almost believed Murphy was wearing a Klan
hood in the shadows.
“It’s quite simple. We want to know all about you and your friends. Particularly
the old fart.”
“You’ll have to ask him about that. I don’t know squat about him. And what could
there be about a black bitch to interest you?” she spit with sarcastic venom.
Murphy stepped forward into the light. Despite her better intent, Mildred
flinched.
Murphy laughed with sardonic glee. “Oh, I love it. The geeks in R&D are gonna
love the way their gadgets worked. Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna violate you as
part of the interrogation. We don’t know enough about how rad-blasted your genes
are to risk that. But I always say that there ain’t nothing that works like good
old fashioned pain.”
With a backhand slap he jerked Mildred’s head back, the rings on his fingers
ripping her flesh. She kept her head back to one side, breathing heavily and
trying to conquer the sudden flash of pain and anger.
Gently Murphy took her chin in his fingers and pulled her head around until he
was looking her in the eye.
“Now, when I had you stripped, we found medical supplies in your pockets. I’d
swear that you were a medic of some kind. Is that so?”
“You’re a clever mother, aren’t you?” Mildred answered through the taste of
blood, mustering as much sarcasm as she could.
Murphy smiled to himself. “Thought so. That being the case, you won’t want those
hands of yours damaged in any way, will you? Like losing those nails, for