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Mendoza is an immortal; they can’t hurt her, whatever they do to their other prisoners.
    They can’t kill her, but . . . all the prisoners is immortals, sir, that’s just the trouble. And so’s the guard.
    Edward ignored the implications of the first sentence.
Guard? Just one? It ought to be easy to get past him, then.
    Begging yer pardon, sir, I don’t think so. He be one of them Enforcer Class operatives.
    What, the old monsters I was designed to replace?
Edward studied his fingernails with a show of unconcern.
Only one?
    Aye, sir. Most of ’em was tricked into surrendering and got put into some kind of semi-eternal sleep, on account of they was suspected of mutiny. That’s what the Company’s most afeared of, you see, sir. Think about that Frankenstein book, sir, and imagine that there doctor’s trouble multiplied by three thousand.
    Hmm. We needn’t concern ourselves with them, then. Need we?
    Well sir, we still got that one to worry about. The first and the worst of ’em all to rebel, name of Marco. The Company gave him a special job. Seems he’s the guard at Options Research. He’s also the only staff member. Doctor, lab, and disassembly technician.
    Disassembly?
    Now, then, son, yer not a baby. I’m telling you all this because you can take it; how many cold-blooded murders did you commit for queen and country? Stiffen that upper lip, now. Options Research is where they send the immortals they want to get rid of. The defectives, the malcontents. Or the ones like yer lady, who know too much.
    Edward sagged forward at the table. Alec glanced over at him and started.
    “Are you all right, man? You want some lunch or something?”
    “I should like a glass of brandy, if you don’t mind,” Edward said.
    “Okay.” Alec obligingly created a virtual one. It materialized at Edward’s elbow.
    “Thank you,” Edward said, lifting it and gulping. Alec continued to watch in concern until Edward glared at him, when he looked away and tried to focus again on Ecclesiastes. Wind screamed in the rigging, and rain rattled sidelong on the glass, spattering like shot. Edward breathed deeply, calming himself.
    That’s a good gentleman. No sense upsetting the others, is there, now?
    Stop fawning and tell me the rest. Have they killed her? Is all this for nothing?
    No, sir, nobody’s ever been executed there. That’s their problem. See, the men who founded Dr. Zeus—at least, the ones who
think
they founded Dr. Zeus—would dearly like to know how to undo what they done when they made their immortals.
    Wrought too well, did they?
    Exactly, sir. All the Company can do is send the ones they want to disable to Options Research. And even so, this Marco ain’t figured out the trick. All he’s been able to do is damage ’em.
    Slowly and casually Edward lifted his virtual glass and swirled the brandy, looking into it.
Are you saying that he’s torturing the prisoners?
    Well, sir, the idea is to overcome the programming that makes ’em keep on living. And if he can make ’em want to die badly enough, you see—
    Edward closed his eyes for a moment.
    Has she been tortured?
he said at last.
    There was a long silence before the Captain answered.
    I wouldn’t know that, sir. This is a real classified matter, you see. There ain’t hardly no data available on the prisoners, once they’re sent there.
    Edward drank the rest of his brandy.
    You said we could get there instantaneously. For God’s sake, why aren’t we there now?
    Because you need to prepare, if yer going to rescue her. I wanted you to understand what yer going up against, d’ye see? This is an Enforcer you’ll be facing.
    An immortal. Can he be duped? Bribed?
    Not likely, sir. He’s got all yer cunning, and all Nick’s righteous zeal. This is holy work to him, it’s why they been able to keep him there. And he’s bigger and stronger than you.
    What chance do I have, then?
    Ah, well, sir, it ain’t as bad as all that. Here be the trick with the