Ship of the Line - Diane Carey [96]
As Picard approached the other side of the desk, Madred felt a queasy commonality with this man. They were both humanoid, of course, as Starfleet tended to put it. Arms, legs, heads, a face with two eyes, a nose, a mouth—in a galaxy of uncounted bizarre life-forms, they were practically twins. They had similar ambitions, desires, and needs, which Madred regularly preyed upon and knew very well. He could distill most humanoids down to the common needs and fears—Terrans, Romulans, Klingons, even other Cardassians.
A flashing memory of those Cardassians he had tortured came unbidden into his mind. He shook it off.
Picard was looking at him with a slightly scolding expression now.
“Did you really think,” the captain asked, “that drinking tea in front of me would make me talk to you?”
Madred tipped his head in a shrug. “Simple, but often effective to the thirsting. After all, I’d left you hanging from the ceiling all night. I’d blistered your innards with my subcutaneous implement—”
“Yes, your pain device is gaining legendary status. Not for its innovation, but for your tired use of it. I had no information to give you, Madred. At least, not about what you were asking. It’s a torturer’s biggest problem. What happens when your victim really doesn’t know? How do you live with yourself?”
“I do well enough. Of course, I’m not a heat-treated dandy like you, so I must have trouble in life. We can’t all be Picards, can we? I suppose it’s an occupational hazard of mine that one of you would eventually come back for revenge. It’s the nature of my work, you see.”
“I told you,” Picard clarified, “I’m not here for revenge. What you did to me simply wasn’t bad enough to go to all this bother. I’ve had worse heckling from petty criminals I’ve arrested. Otherwise, what’s a little physical discomfort? Some spasms and cramps?” He flexed his fingers and looked at them. “I seem to still have all my digits, all my limbs … you weren’t even atrocious enough to maim me. You thought you were debasing me by stripping my clothing off? You forgot I’d been through Starfleet Academy hazing. Just keep your hands on the desk—”
“I will.”
Madred pressed his palms to the glossy desktop. He had inadvertantly lowered one hand to his lap, but even if he could reach the signal button, he didn’t want to do that yet. He was interested in what Picard was saying, and in why.
They had spent many hours together. Madred had plumbed for Picard’s inner weakness and found a most uncomplex man with a great deal of grudgeful determination. The captain was also stoutly unimpetuous. His presence here had no doubt been long considered. Madred kept that in mind. He would have to think quickly and be very careful in order to match Picard’s preparation.
To that end, he said nothing, but let the captain continue to speak. Such moments as this tended to make truths bubble to the surface.
“When you told me the Enterprise was burning in space,” Picard went on, “I knew you were lying. You were just too casual about it. Too neutral. You should’ve pretended regret, acted sympathetic, even embarrassed. Maybe begun to unshackle me. I might’ve swallowed that. But you showed nothing but the satisfaction of telling me, so I knew you were lying. You also promised to kill me, but then you didn’t. I had no reason to pay attention to you after that. You shouldn’t say things you don’t mean, even to captives.”
“Good advice,” Madred accepted. “I’ll put it down in my book of wisdom from inelastic ninnies.”
Very odd … he had expected to see some retaliatory deviltry in Picard’s manner by now, but there still was none. Picard spoke of those hours of torture with the same impassivity Madred himself might have used. There was no rancor in the man. Or perhaps that was an act. Picard must be trying to vex Madred by pretending to be unaffected by those hours. That was it—trying to make Madred feel ineffective, something quite annoying to a skilled artisan.
Yes, that was it.
Madred shuddered down an instant of personal fear. Picard might be calm because he was planning something brutal.