And we must get behind them.

I want you to. You have to believe me, Ansset said. I want to know. I don't want to be a threat to Mikal, I'd rather die than harm him. But I'd also rather die than leave him.

The words were strong. The voice was flat and empty. Not even a song in it, Is that because of a commitment from the Songhouse? I'm sure they'd understand.

Ansset looked at him. Captain. The Songhouse would accept me back at any time.

Ansset, one of the reasons we can't get through the blocks in your mind is because you aren't helping.

I'm trying to.

Ansset, I don't know how to say this. Most of the time your voice is natural and human and you react like any other person might. But now, when we need to communicate with you more than ever before, you are frozen. You're completely unreachable. You haven't shown an emotion since I came in here.

Ansset looked surprised. The very fact of even that mild reaction made the Captain's breath quicken in excitement. Captain, aren't you using drugs?

The drugs are the last resort, Ansset, and you can still resist them. Perhaps whoever put the blocks in your mind gave you help in resisting them. The drugs can only get us partway into you. And then you resist us every step of the way.

Ansset regarded him a little more, as if digesting the information. Then he turned away, and his voice was husky as he said, What you're asking me to do is lose Control.

The Captain knew nothing of Control. He only heard control, and did not understand the difficulty of what he was asking,

That's right.

And it's the only way to find out what's been hidden in my mind?

Yes, said the Captain.

Ansset was silent a moment more. Am I really a danger to Mikal?

I don't know. Perhaps whoever took you found you as hard to cope with as we have. Perhaps there's nothing hidden in your mind, except a memory of who the kidnappers were. Perhaps they had meant to hold you for ransom, then realized they'd never get away with it alive and spent the rest of the time trying to conceal who they were. I don't know. But perhaps behind those blocks are instructions for you to kill Mikal. If they wanted to pick a perfect assassin, they couldn't do better than you. No one but you sees Mikal every day in intimate circumstances. No one has his trust. The very fact that he pleads with us to bring you to him, to hurry the interrogation and let him see you- You can see what a danger you might be to him.

For Mikal's sake, then, Ansset said. And the Captain was astounded by how quickly Ansset's Control broke. Tell Mikal, said Ansset, as his face twisted with emotion and tears began to flow, that I'll do anything for him. Even this. And Ansset wept, great sobs wracking his body, weeping for the months of fear and guilt and solitude. Weeping at the knowledge that he might never see Mikal again. The Captain watched, incredulous, as for an hour Ansset could not communicate at all, just lay on the couch like a little child, babbling and rubbing his eyes. He knew that from the observation stations the other interrogators would be watching in awe at how quickly the Captain had broken through barriers that even drugs had not been able to breach. The Captain felt a delicious hope that the Chamberlain had been watching, too.

And then Ansset became relatively calm, and the Captain began the questioning, using every clever trick he could think of to get behind the barriers. He tried every indirection he had ever heard of. He tried all the dazzling thrusts that had shattered walls before. But even now, with Ansset cooperating fully, nothing could be done at all. Not even in the deepest trance was Ansset able to speak what had been hidden in his mind. The Captain learned only one thing. He asked, while questioning around the skirts of one block, Who placed this barrier here?

And Ansset, so deep in the trance that he could hardly speak, said, Esste.

The name meant nothing to the Captain at the time. But that name was all he got. An hour later he and the Chamberlain stood before Mikal.

Esste, Mikal said.

That's what he said.

Esste, Mikal said, is the name of the Songmaster of the High Room. His teacher in the Songhouse.

Oh.

These blocks you have so lovingly spent four days trying to break were placed there years ago by his teachers! Not by kidnappers only in the last few months!

We had to be sure.

Yes, Mikal said. You had to be sure. And we're not sure now, of course. If the barriers were placed in his mind by his teacher, why can't he remember how he spent his days daring his captivity? We can only conclude that some blocks come from the Songhouse, and some blocks from his captors. But what can we do about it?

Send the boy back to the Songhouse, said the Chamberlain.

Mikal's face was terrible. It was as if he wanted to shout, but dared not say what he would say if he surrendered himself to passion that much. So he did not shout, but after a moment of struggle said, Chamberlain, that's a suggestion I will not hear again. I know it may be necessary. But as for now, I will have my Songbird with me.

My Lord, the Captain said, you've stayed alive all these years by not taking such chances.

Until Ansset came, Mikal answered painfully, I did not know what I was staying alive for.

The Captain bowed his head. The Chamberlain thought of another argument, almost said something, and then thought better of it

Bring him to me, said Mikal, in open court, so that everyone can watch me accept my Songbird again. I'll have no taint on him. In two hours.

They left, and Mikal sat alone on the floor in front of his fireplace, resting his chin on his hands. He was getting old, and his back hurt, and he tried to hum a tune the Songbird had often sung. The voice was old and creaky, and he couldn't do it. The fire spat at him, and he wondered what it would be like to have beautiful Ansset hold a laser and aim it at his heart. He would not know what he was doing, Mikal reminded himself. He would be innocent in his heart. But I would still be dead when he was through.

10

The Captain and Chamberlain came together to take Ansset from the cell where he had spent the last four days.

He wants you to come.

Ansset had Control again. He showed little emotion as he asked, Am I ready?

They said nothing for a moment, which was answer enough.

Then I won't go, Ansset said.

He commands it, the Chamberlain said.

Not if we don't know what's been hidden in my head.

The Captain patted Ansset's shoulder. A loyal attitude. But the only thing we could find was that at least some of the blocks were laid by your teacher.

Esste?

Yes.

Ansset smiled, and suddenly his voice radiated confidence. Then it's all right. She wishes nothing but good for Mikal!

Only some of the blocks.

And the smile left Ansset's face.

But you will come. He's expecting you in court in less than two hours.

Can't we try again?

Trying again would be pointless. Whoever laid the blocks in your mind laid them well, Ansset, And Mikal won't be put off any longer. You have no choice. Please come with us now. And the Captain stood. He expected to be obeyed, and Ansset followed. They wound their way through the palace to the security rooms at the entrances to the court. There Ansset insisted on their most thorough search, every possible poison and weapon checked for.

And tie my hands, Ansset said.

Mikal wouldn't stand for it, the Captain said, but the Chamberlain nodded and said, The boy's right. So they clamped manacles onto Ansset's forearms. The manacles quickly fit snugly from elbow to wrist. They were held by metal bars exactly twenty centimeters apart behind his back, which was uncomfortable at first and steadily more uncomfortable the longer he had to Hold the position. They also hobbled his legs.