I can tell by the way you reach your conclusions: you're the director of a mental institution…
The Vesmier is in the front lobby of the Kashtta Tower, sitting and waiting for... several people, actually. Though he suspects the person he needs to be, some hypothetical figure of authority who could offer a proper procedure for any of this, for all of it, will not appear.
His healing trance after the business with the Doctor and Ruvin was uncharacteristically cursory, and there's still a low ache between his temples, spidering from between his eyes toward the crown of his head. More than that, he's visibly uneasy, despite the centuries of self-control he's practised. This is something different to anything he's gone through before - him against the Doctor, levying judgement from a place where even he's not sure he's in the right, altering two minds without full and informed consent...
In a world with no central laws or authority, one is reduced to instinct. He's never trusted his own instinct, not when he's had to rebuild his mind from the ground up to protect himself against even that.
His healing trance after the business with the Doctor and Ruvin was uncharacteristically cursory, and there's still a low ache between his temples, spidering from between his eyes toward the crown of his head. More than that, he's visibly uneasy, despite the centuries of self-control he's practised. This is something different to anything he's gone through before - him against the Doctor, levying judgement from a place where even he's not sure he's in the right, altering two minds without full and informed consent...
In a world with no central laws or authority, one is reduced to instinct. He's never trusted his own instinct, not when he's had to rebuild his mind from the ground up to protect himself against even that.