In Earth's Service (Mapped Space Book 2) by Stephen Renneberg Page B

said deadpan.
    “Ouch.” Jase gave me a pained look. “There really
is a Tau Cetin under that face, isn’t there?”
    I nodded. “And millions listening in.”
    “Not that many,” Meta said. “They don’t find
primate behavior that interesting.” She looked us both over curiously. “Which
of you is the more prototypically human?”
    “He is,” I replied.
    Jase inhaled impressively, “I’m a prime example of
Oresund manhood, a lover and a fighter!”
    “Really?” she said, silently dropping us a few
more rungs on the evolutionary ladder.
    An immense, flat sided hexagon loomed out of the
darkness ahead. Several other prism orbitals drifted in the distance while the
star Pelani had shrunk to a tiny glowing orb and Ansara was no longer visible. Our
small craft entered the circular tunnel at the center of the prism, then passed
through a huge space door into an enormous cylindrical chamber that could have
docked dozens of ships. We glided to a stop close to the curved wall as a narrow
bridge extended toward us forming a sealed walkway between our craft and the
orbital.
    “Is this entire station a hospital?” I asked as Meta
led us across the walkway.
    “It is more a laboratory than what you would think
of as a hospital. It is equipped to remedy any Tau Cetin physical condition,
conduct biological research and synthesize replacement components as required.”
    “Like cloning body parts?” Jase asked.
    “No,” she replied as we entered a long, softly lit
corridor. “Cloning copies the patient’s own genetic material. We construct new
components from elementary biomatter and program the genetic coding directly.
It is a process that eliminates replicative failure.”
    “Is that how they made you?” I asked.
    “I am biomechanical. My outer dermal layer is human-like,
but more durable and long lasting than your skin. My interior structure is
flexion-carbon.”
    “Flexion-carbon?”
    “It’s a material we use extensively, extremely light
and many times stronger than your polysteel. It is the strongest artificial
substance in the universe. This orbital is constructed of it, as are our
ships.”
    “Any chance of getting a sample?” I asked.
    She smiled, amused at the prospect, then led us
through a sliding door into a darkened room where Izin floated naked, bathed in
soft beams of light. Three curved metal strips forming segments of a circle slowly
orbited his head emitting thin beams of yellow light that swept up and down
rhythmically over his long cranium. I started toward him, plowed straight into a
pressure field and was pushed back with a gentle, unyielding force.
    “What are you doing to him?” I demanded.
    “Copying the electrochemical structure of his brain,”
she replied. “I assure you, he feels nothing.”
    “This is how you question a suspect?”
    “The method is flawless. Once we have copied his
memory and mental processes, we will disable any deception or resistance
inherent in the original, creating a compliant duplicate which will answer
every question with absolute honesty. If Izin Nilva Kren is a spy, the
duplicate will confess.”
    “Does he get to testify in his own defense?”
    “That is neither necessary nor desirable.”
    “So his life depends on what the copy says?”
    “Yes. Such confessions have far greater weight
under our law than his own testimony because there is no possibility of
deception.”
    “What about his right not to incriminate himself?”
    “We recognize no such right. That concept is
nothing more than a piece of legal trickery used by primitive societies to
allow criminals to avoid responsibility for their actions. Advanced societies
are built upon a fundamental concept, that justice avoided is injustice. That
applies as much to an individual as to an entire civilization. We seek truth.
Once we know it, we act upon it.”
    “You have no secrets,” I said, realizing in their
society, no one could ever lie and get away with it. If they did that to me,