"No, you can't," is Herbert's equally immediate, dry response.

But then Foster starts getting worked up and Herbert almost starts to doubt his ability here. Drunken Foster is an unknown quantity to everyone except him right now. This is new territory: experimental Foster.

"Control you," he says, and stands up from the chair. "Because you're unable to control yourself? Are you asking for more?" His eyes flicker down to the ruined bread roll and back up to look at Foster. "If you'd prefer to wallow in your own filth go, ahead, but as I've told you I require you alive. I'm not interested in owning you. I need your brain for my reagent, nothing more."