"- please sit down. I'm not going to hurt you."

It will obey, of course.  If anyone asks it whether Carissa Sevar will hurt it, it now knows that the answer to be given is 'No.'

"I'm working on better writeups of - the Project, who's in charge of what, who should be in charge of what if they are indisposed or called away or turn traitor or vanish mysteriously in the dead of night. I - realized that you're the best person for this, you're the one who's been keeping track of it already."

"Yes, Chosen," it says automatically.

Abrogail's notes on torture had suggestions, about this, but mostly they were to only do it in the first place if you didn't really like the person and weren't going to want them to be useful afterwards. 

"I'm not going to hurt you. Not today, not tomorrow, not even if you fuck up at something again, I'm not going to put you in a position where you might."

"Yes, Chosen."  A flicker of trust in Carissa Sevar, that once was -

- but that wasn't real, was it?  She was a thing-that-hurts-you after all.

The thought dies before it can form much of a connected chain.

Possibly if this person were not hurt, a few times sequentially, when he otherwise expected strongly to be hurt, he would start to be able to hear promises again?

"I'm sorry."

"Chosen?" he says.  The parts of him that detect heresy light up, they did not get much use in torment or shattering by it; but very quickly the sequelae run into the horror that is everything about or relating to Carissa Sevar, and that thought goes nowhere.

"Not very sorry. I'm allowed to do this to people. Hell does this to people. You and Subirachs set me up to come back, and do this, and you were pleased enough, when I was doing it to one of the thugs on Security. 

But you didn't, in fact, have occasion to do it to me, and what you did do for me was - your best, mostly, accounting for how humans are terrible at everything - did you know it is heretical to say that Carissa Sevar will show any soul mercy -" and she's making this about herself, saying what she wants to talk about instead of what she thinks might actually help Maillol, who she does, actually, want to help.

"I am sorry because I hurt you out of ignorance of how to get what I wanted. I wish I hadn't."

Something inside him hurts.  He shuts it down out of a vague sense that letting this thing hurt will lead to other hurtings.  It seems like something that might scream at Carissa Sevar if it were allowed a voice, so it's dangerous.

He doesn't know if 'Yes, Chosen' is an allowable thing to say here.  If this is real, silence would be allowed; if it's fake... what does he say how to get out of hurting if it's fake...

"I owe you obedience, sir.  You owe me nothing."

"I owe it to every soul I own to make them stronger, and better, and make them into the greatest devils they can be, the greatest devils in all of Hell."

If he says 'Yes, Chosen' that's heresy.  If he says it's heresy, that seems like it might lead to hurting.

He doesn't know what to say, no options, fear rising -

From somewhere, maybe, a last real remnant of Ferrer Maillol manages to say, and it's strange how it comes out, "If you want him to be useful you should order him to just start working."

"....I do want that but I also want a bunch of other things. Humans. Muddled. You know. We've - had that conversation, once or twice."

His mind reaches for memory, it's a memory of arguing with Carissa Sevar, flinches back as if burned.

The fragment of the real Ferrer Maillol that spoke, its attempt at advice ignored, sees that it's not being listened-to here and retreats back.  Possibly for good.

"Is there some promise that, if you had it, would make it - easier - to do your job."

Not to be hurt again.  He doesn't say it; it's too obviously a thing-you-don't-say-in-Cheliax, if you don't trust the person you're talking to a lot, when you say it.  If Carissa Sevar has Detect Thoughts running, she'll see it, but not otherwise.

"I don't know, Chosen."

Lots of wants rise up, get shut down before they can even turn into words, because he obviously cannot have those things might hurt to think them will definitely hurt to say them.

She's absolutely having his mind read. How else do you understand people.

"I am not going to hurt you again." She already said that, but apparently it didn't sink in.

Obviously not!  It's just words!  There was once a man who knew a Carissa Sevar and thought her words meant something, but then it turned out she was just made of Cheliax, so now her words are Cheliax words.

"Yes, Chosen."

"Would you like a week off to - rest, not be around me, not be around Project Lawful -"

Yes? says his mind.  It's not a very loud yes.  He has no idea if that helps somebody like him.

No, Chosen, say his verbal reflexes, and something else inside him shuts it down because if he actually says that then a week of not-rest will happen to him.

Oh, wait.  She didn't say that he could have it, just to ask if he wanted it.  So she'll laugh at him if he says yes and then say he can't have it.  That makes a sort of sense, if she wants him to hurt that way, he should give his hurting to her, and not make her go looking for it.  It seems like a safe way to be hurt, even if it leads into more hurting it's probably "ha ha go do this paperwork instead" hurting and not, actual hurting.

"Sounds nice," he says, after a long delay to compute all that.

If, hypothetically, there were such a thing as Evil Dath Ilan, it would have invented the concept of "post-torture therapist" for reasons of sheer economic loss prevention.

Cheliax is not Evil Dath Ilan, a fact which has both upsides and downsides.

Nobody in this conversation will have the thought occur to them that there's any available remedy for Maillol but rest, and in fact, there isn't.

Well that's....pro....gress? 

"All right. I am putting you on leave for a week. I am going to tell someone to teleport you somewhere peaceful and quiet with extremely boring slaves and no responsibilities. I'll figure this org plan out myself."

Huh?

"Acknowledged."

He doesn't get it.

Is he supposed to go back to his bedroom now?