s
manhood. He could burn it with oil and a torch, or he could order
Erculio to slash it away with a knife. The podesta had chosen Greek Fire
because it was strange, hinted of magic--maligno. Daoud remembered what
d'Ucello had said, an eon ago, when they were talking upstairs: that he
would prefer picking a lock to forcing it. Even now the podesta was
trying to use fear rather than pain to make Daoud tell him what he
wanted to know. D'Ucello himself did not really relish inflicting
physical pain; he preferred to work on men's emotions.

D'Ucello peered at him. "Under the appearance of a helpless and
terrified merchant, there is bravado. But now you know what a terrible
thing is going to happen to you if you persist. I will give that
understanding time to ripen."

He drew away and turned to Erculio. "I will return at midday, after my
morning audiences. See that he thinks about what is going to happen to
him."

Erculio bowed. "Signore."

The podesta left the dungeon, still holding the silver flask.

_He has to put off carrying out his threat_, Daoud thought. _Once he has
poured that Greek Fire on my loins, he has done his worst. If the fear
does not force me to speak, the deed is pointless. After it is done I
will have little more to lose. If he were a true torturer, he would have
begun with my toes._

Even so, Daoud was sure d'Ucello would carry out his threat.

_Therefore, I must prepare myself for death._

If d'Ucello used the Greek Fire on him, Daoud would want Erculio to kill
him. And he was sure Erculio would do it.

He turned his mind again to thoughts of God. Soon he would be
face-to-face with God in paradise.

He heard Erculio talking to the guards, making preparations for some new
torment. Rather than wallow in fear, Daoud visualized a fresh flood of
Soma coursing through his heart and mind and limbs. Saadi had explained
that there was no limit to how much of a spiritual drug a man could
take.

This time, as Soma detached his spirit from his body, something happened
to him unlike anything he had never known before. He was looking down at
himself. He saw himself lying facedown, nearly nude on the rack, his
blond hair darkened and plastered down with sweat. He saw the bloody
slashes across his back, the blackened burn mark on his leg.

He was floating near the ceiling of the dungeon. He looked down at the
spider shape of Erculio, talking with the guards and the clerk. Amazing
that they did not look