ution. "Do not let your enthusiasm make you careless, Captain. Even
a field interrogation requires both caution and precision."

"I'll be careful," Cortin assured him. "You've told me often enough
that the line between persuasive pain and unconsciousness is a very
fine one, and I don't intend to let him cross it."

"Very good." Illyanov smiled at her. "I will intervene only if you
ask, or if you appear about to do something unfortunate. Shall we go?"

4. Ordination

St. Thomas, Tuesday, 23 July 2571

About mid-afternoon, Shannon was leaning back in his desk chair,
planning the March raid that would supposedly mark the beginning of the
Brotherhood's real push against the Kingdoms, when he sensed a use of
power that had to be Cortin. It was weak, barely detectable, but
undeniably there, and he swore viciously. Even the slightest
deliberate use she made of her power might lead to more . . . did he
dare check to see if it was deliberate?

That should be safe enough, he decided at last. It was far more
difficult to detect a passive use such as observing than an active one
such as coercion or physical alteration, and Cortin's use was weak
enough it might well be unconscious.

Despite his decision that the risk was low, he was cautious in
extending his sensitivity toward her. When he made contact, though, he
felt a sense of relief. Her use was unconscious, which meant there was
no immediate danger.

He could have retreated then, but he was too intrigued; she was getting
her first practical experience as an Inquisitor, and he couldn't resist
the temptation to watch.

The subject was one of the Brotherhood's suppliers. Too cowardly to
actually join the Brotherhood, but a skillful thief who could generally
get what the Brothers wanted, and sold it to them at about half what
he'd charge anyone else. It was a shame to lose him, but worth it to
watch Cortin work on her first victim, whether she turned out to be the
incomparable expert he expected if she had the nerve, or the total
incompetent he expected if she didn't.

"Are you a Brother of Freedom?" she asked the prisoner.

"No."

Cortin nodded. "Then have you worked for them?"

"Not that, either."

"In that case, we can proceed. I don't suppose you'd care to answer my
questions without unpleasantness?"

"I don't have anything to tell you."

"The choice is yours." Cortin picked up a scalpel, pausing at the
expression on Illyanov's face.