Bart lowered his eyes. He had no answer to that.
"No, you won't be killed. But that's all I can guarantee. My personal
feelings have nothing to do with it. You'll have to go to Council Planet
with us, and you'll have to be psych-checked there. That is Lhari
law--and by treaty with your Federation, it is human law, too. If you
know anything dangerous to us, we have a legal right to eliminate those
memories before you can be released."
Meta smiled at him, encouragingly, but Bart shivered. That was almost
worse than the thought of death.
And the fear grew more oppressive as the ship forged onward toward the
home world of the Lhari. And it did not lessen when, after they touched
down, he was taken from the ship under guard.
He had only a glimpse, through dark glasses, of the terrible brilliance
of the Lhari sun dazzling on crystal towers, before he was hustled into
a closed surface car. It whisked him away to a building he did not see
from the outside; he was taken up by private elevator to a suite of
rooms which might--for all he could tell--have been a suite in a luxury
hotel or a lunatic asylum. The walls were translucent, the furniture
oddly colored, and so carefully padded that even a homicidal or suicidal
person could not have hurt himself or anyone else on it or with it.
Food reached him often enough so that he never got hungry, but not often
enough to keep him from being bored between meals, or from brooding. Two
enormous Lhari came in to look at him every hour or so, but either they
were deaf and dumb, did not understand his dialect of Lhari, or were
under orders not to speak to him. It was the most frustrating time of
his entire voyage.
One day it ended. A Lhari and a Mentorian came for him and took him down
elevators and up stairs, and into a quiet, neutral room where four Lhari
were gathered. They sat him in a comfortable chair, and the Mentorian
interpreter said gently, with apology: "Bart Steele, I have been asked to say to you that you will not be
physically harmed in any way. This will be much simpler, and will have
much less injurious effect on your mind if you cooperate with us. At the
same time, I have been asked to remind you that resistance is absolutely
useless, and if you attempt it, you will only be treated with force
rather than with courtesy."
Bart sat facing them, shaking with humiliation. The thought of
resistance flashed through his mind. Maybe he should make them fight for
what they got! At least they'd see that all humans weren't like the
Mentorians, to sit quietly and let themselves be brainwashed without a
word of protest.