“You’re right, you’re right, they won’t,” No Way said. “That’s against policy. They’re too careful for that.”
“So what would we do then?”
“Meet, uh, prearranged place,” No Way said.
“Can I ask where is that?”
“Poptun.”
“I don’t think that’s right,” Grgur said. “Listen. You know about the new polygraph feedback software, don’t you?” “No,” No Way said. He was hoping they’d take time to explain it to them.
“Yes, you do,” Grgur said, “we can tell. Even on a trivial question like that one.”
“Okay,” No Way said. I could tell he knew it was bullshit, though. And I think Grgur could tell that too. Not that the thing wasn’t sensitive, but all real interrogators know that no matter how many readings you get, they don’t always have much to do with the truth as such. If anything, they have to do with how much the subject expects and fears the next burst of pain. So if he thinks lying’s going to avert it, his readings might go down on a lie, not up. But I guess they were hoping to get enough out of all their data back at the ranch. At least on one or two key issues.
“Who should we contact if we have to release you to the Guates’ army patrol?” Grgur asked.
“Nobody.”
“Who should we contact if you were detained, injured, or killed?”
“Nobody.”
“Listen, believe it or not, we’re not hostile to you,” Grgur said. “We are somewhat hostile to the current administration of this country and we had the impression you were too. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Would you please tell us what your cell knows about this operation?” Grgur asked. At least for now he wasn’t pursuing the names thing. Maybe they really weren’t after that.
“Do you mean this particular looting expedition?” No Way asked.
“Yes.”
“I don’t know anything about it myself.”
“What does your cell know?”
“They don’t know anything, I’ve been out of contact since August thirtieth.”
“Would you please tell us what Mr. DeLanda has told you about this operation?”
“Nothing. Wait, nothing besides your schedule and that you were digging and had to keep it quiet.”
“You’re sure that’s everything?”
“Yes, I even asked whether you were after jade masks or what and he said he wouldn’t tell me.”
“Can you tell us what you know about the settlement at Pusilha?” Grgur meant the Stake, but I guess he wasn’t supposed to call it that.
“I know there’s been a lot of real estate bought in the area. By the Morons. Four plantations, water rights… that’s it.”
“Are you sure?”
“They’re building landing strips and a control tower.”
“What else?”
“That’s it,” No Way said. He didn’t look so good. Since the beginning of the interview his blood pressure had gone from 135 over 80 to 155 over 95, and the pneumograph said his breathing was up to twenty-five breaths per minute.
“Would you please tell us everything Mr. DeLanda told you about the settlement at Pusilha?”
“He didn’t tell me anything. Just that you’d come through there. I supposed his employers had something to do with it. But he didn’t tell me that.”
“Mr. DeLanda tells us you alerted this patrol to our location. Would you like to give us your side of the story on that?”
There was a pause.
(97)
No Way knew that was a total lie, of course. It was too close to book procedure, trying to make the subject feel betrayed.
“I didn’t tell anybody anything.”
“So you signaled someone?”
“No. I didn’t signal anyone.”
“In that case, who do you think alerted the patrol to our location?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you alert this patrol to our location?”
It was pretty clear to me that was the only real question in the bunch. If they made sure it wasn’t No Way who turned them in, then they’d have to look elsewhere. Probably among their so-called friends in the army.
“No,” No Way said.
“Why did you alert this patrol to our location?”
“I didn’t,” No Way said. The voltmeter slid slowly up, from a hundred-volt tickle to two thousand and then to eight thousand. After three seconds, at fifteen thousand, No Way couldn’t hold it in anymore. His back arched higher and bounced and there was a squeal of his vocal cords sawing into each other. His body bounced again and then relaxed as the voltage went back to zero.
“That was a one-second application of a level two shock,” Grgur said. “On your next false answer we’re going to wait five seconds and then administer a level four shock. Just so you know, a level eight might be fatal.”
“Let’s try it,” No Way squawked.
“I’m going to have to ask you again,” Grgur said. Pause. “It’s not a big deal, you know, we’re not out to get anyone. We just want to know where we went wrong. No Way? Who alerted the patrol to our location?”
“I don’t know.” No Way’s readings thrashed, anticipating the shock. His temperature was dipping and his galvanic skin resistance was down twenty percent. The EEG was showing sharp seven-hundred-microvolt eliptiform spikes and big asymmetries between the right and left hemispheres of his brain. The shock didn’t come, though.
“So you’re saying you know someone did.”
“No. Didn’t.” No Way’s voice sounded like a crushed bullfrog’s. The Estimated Voice Stress Level thingy reset itself to the new timbre. Eighty-five percent, it said.
“You didn’t what?”
“I didn’t. Alert. Anyone.”
“One of the patrol officers already told us the information came from you.”
“Not true.”
“Then who did?”
“I don’t know. If anyone did. Or not.”
“Who do you think may have alerted this patrol to our location?”
“?Quien sabe?”
“You’re sure? I’m going to have to give you a long charge in a minute.”
“Can you execute me now, please?” No Way asked, but the voltage was climbing again and his voice rose into a screech and then petered out in gooey sputtering. Grgur held it for three seconds. The EEG dropped down to what it said was an unconscious alpha level. Grgur cut the charge and Leonidas took the muff away from No Way’s neck. Passing out was one thing, but they didn’t want him to go into shock.
(98)
“T his isn’t good,” Leonidas said. There was blood all over No Way’s chin and when they wiped it off I could see he’d bitten through his lower lip. I guess they were worried about it because it was a torture-victim giveaway. Leonidas stuck some bits of gauze between No Way’s teeth and his upper and lower lips. It gave him kind of a Ubangi-woman look. No Way was waking up, and he drew in a breath to try and get a scream together-he’d picked up on their stealth factor-but Leonidas remuffled him before any noise came out. He taped a shock of hair back out of his eye.
“Come on,” Grgur said.
“Okay, it’s okay,” Leonidas said.
“Okay, No Way?” Grgur asked. “Can you hear me?”
“Uh-hunh.” I think he was trying to make himself pass out again, but the Royal Ordnance system was good at not letting that happen. Grgur gave him a hundred-volt wake-up buzz.
“Who is Jed’s backup?” Grgur asked.
“I am.” His vowels were just ragged grunts and he didn’t have any consonants left, but I could still understand him.
“All right. Listen. We already know the patrol was acting on a signal from you. We only want your confirmation of who set up the contact and how they were signaled.”
No answer. Of course, they didn’t actually have Clue One. It was just more standard procedure to tell the subject they knew he was lying. No Way wasn’t buying it, though.
Torture for information usually actually works well, but it can take time. No Way’s choice now was either to start changing his answers to try to buy time, or to keep to the true answers so they’d kill him as soon as possible. All guerrillas were trained to try to do the first, to hold up the interrogators for as long as possible. The main reason was what used to be called the “forty-eight-hour rule”: you stalled in order to give the other people in the cell time to relocate before the other side learned their whereabouts. The other was that there was more of a chance for you if your interrogators had to take you back to wherever with them. Once you were in prison, you were less likely to be executed. In this case there wasn’t anyone else trying to get away, although maybe No Way thought I might need to get out of here myself, and I’m pretty sure he knew there wasn’t any hope for him either. But he did pick up on the fact that these people were nervous, and had been spotted by someone. And so just to screw them up as much as possible-I think-he did the right thing. Which was to start off telling the truth and then to reverse himself as they turned up the screws and the physiological readings got harder to evaluate.