Free Ice and Shadow by Andre Norton

going to be condemned out of her own mouth. But there was nothing else she could have done. To her, Sandar’s suggestion was unthinkable.
    In the clear, terse manner of making a report which had been drilled into her, Roane began her story—the storm, her refuge in the tower—their flight, the cave—what she had found there—the Princess’s tale of the Ice Crown, and all the rest.
    Uncle Offlas listened without comment, though Sandar stirred now and then as if he wished to voice some derisive interruption. Yet he did not. And having conðcluded, Roane waited for the storm to break, knowing that verbal lightning could be as disastrous as the real.
    “As for this girl,” he said first, “we can attend to her when it is needful. But this find of yours—you saw it, Sandar?”
    “Yes. What I could make out through the panel. It may not be Forerunner, but Psychocrat. It could have something to do with the experiment on Clio.”
    “Either way, it is apparently a find of importance. We can report that, along with this.” He looked at the Prinðcess as if she were not a human being at all, but some object which must be disposed of. “However, we have a matter of two days before the com can relay properly to the right orbit pickup, and by that time we should have much more information.”
    “What about the Princess?” his son demanded. “They are going to keep hunting her, and we can’t run the distorts on high for long. If we do as I wanted and brainwash her—then leave her where they can find her—”
    Roane knew better than to voice another “No” right now. She had no weapon to back it up. That confidence which had supported her began to ebb. She might be able, for some moments of wrath, to stand up to Sandar. She had no defense against Uncle Offlas.
    “For the moment they are hunting to the north. And I would like to know more about this crown she believes hidden in there. Once her memory is erased we can learn nothing. We haven’t the equipment for being selective in such matters. We can wait—for a while. Now, I want to look at that installation.
    “As for you”—he spoke to Roane—“you must realize what you have done. You are not a blind fool, just a fool. And I would suggest you think upon the future which you have just thrown away.”
    This was much milder than the blast expected. Though a moment later, after the men had left the camp shelter, she realized that considering a bleak future was a punishment in itself. The least she could hope for was to be planet-bound on some world the Service selected, forbidden ever again to use any skill she had learned. They might even demand that she be brain-censored also. She shivered and put her face in her hands, though she could not shut the dire pictures out of her mind.
    Why had she done all this? Looking back now, she was certain she could have remained hidden in the tower, perhaps even made that climb into safe hiding above, without having dealings with the Princess. Such evasion had been a part of Roane’s training from the start. What flaw in herself had forced her out of the ways of prudence?
    Again, she could have left the Princess once they were free of the tower. She might have done this—or that—But in every choice, she had made the one to condemn herself to Uncle Offlas’s justice and she knew what she could expect from that.
    She could not use her find as any bargaining point. Uncle Offlas would claim it had been made by chance alone. The only new information she had was that the Princess was conditioned not to see the panel—and any more Ludorica could supply about the Ice Crown.
    Since they did not have the techniques here to drag information out of Ludorica against her will, perhaps she could be forewarned to bargain—But for that she must be conscious, and how long—
    “What did they say about me?”
    Roane was startled. The Princess could not be conscious—she had gone down at Sandar’s stunner blast. But her eyes were open