Chapter 24

"That was thoughtful of you--thanks." Cortin smiled, then glared at both of them. "One of you could have called me with a little advance warning, I should think! Isn't it bad enough that His Majesty keeps pulling this sort of surprise on me?"

"It is fun to surprise you when we have the chance," Illyanov said. "Would you deny us a bit of harmless entertainment?"

Cortin chuckled ruefully. "Put that way, of course not--how could I? But someday I may be able to pull the same thing on you, be warned!"

"We shall consider ourselves properly warned indeed," Illyanov agreed.

"Good enough." Cortin moved her shoulders uncomfortably, but maybe it would help the discomfort she still felt if she did talk about what had happened with the farm-folk this afternoon. "Until then, I need some moral support. Something scary happened while I was questioning the first conscript today--since you weren't all in earshot, and Ivan wasn't there at all, can I describe it?"

"Please," Illyanov said.

Cortin did. When the description was over, she said, "I can't really describe how it felt, though. He honestly believed I am the Protector, was worshipping me. I was told not to deny that identification, so I didn't--but dear God, it was frightening! And several of the others were almost as bad. Being treated like the Herald is awful enough; being treated like the Protector Herself is . . . I don't know, I don't have the right word. I don't think I'd like it even if I were Her. Or Him."

"Whether you did or not would have little bearing," Illyanov said. "God does not need to be worshipped; He--or She--requires it of us because it is we who need to worship, and if we do not worship God, we will worship someone or something less worthy."

"That makes sense," Cortin said. "It's not what I'd choose, but I've been frightened and embarrassed before, without a Family for support. I suppose I'll learn to live with it--I'll have to, since I don't have any choice."

"You also have the support of the rest of us who are Sealed," Illyanov said, leaning over to kiss her. "Would you like me--or us--to spend the night?"

"Either or both, any time--which you know. But what about your families?"

"Mine went directly to Archangel and is busy moving in, with Delia's help. Brad's, I believe, is preparing for the move."

"They are," Bradford said, "so I can't stay past Communion--I have to help, as long as I'm in town."

Cortin grinned, her mood lightening. "Too bad for you, Brad; that means Sara'll have to wait for unity with you. Though not with Ivan, if he's willing."

Both men bowed in the historian's direction, and Bradford spoke first. "I'm sorry to have to postpone something so delightful, but hopefully it won't have to be for long."

"I, on the other hand, will be pleased to join you as soon as you wish," Illyanov said, smiling.

Bain grinned. "Don't waste any time, Sara; grab him right after Communion."

Blackfeather was definitely attracted to the handsome Inquisitor-Colonel, but she wasn't used to such openness about sex yet; though she remembered the previous evening's post-Communion lovemaking clearly, it didn't seem quite real. Now she was being urged to make love to a man she'd barely met . . . at least she'd known the Family men, if only briefly . . .

Chang chuckled. "It is not difficult to see you find him attractive; with both of you Sealed, that is a strong indication you are compatible. Given that, what better way to become friends?"

Odd though it seemed, Blackfeather thought, that was reasonable. "After Communion, then, if that's agreeable."

"Most agreeable," Illyanov said. "Michael?"

"Just a minute," Cortin said. "Can I get a couple of quick updates first?"

"Of course."

"Thanks. Brad, what about the special rescue teams?"

"Being organized. I put Major Grunwald on it, so they should be ready to go in a week."

"Good! Sis, Mike--the press-ganged ones?"

"They are in the Detention Center's spare barracks," Chang said. "Dave and Mike heard confessions, then Mike got permission to say Mass a second time for them, and we gave them the Communion of Promise. I believe we shall also have to devise some additional forms of both public and private devotions."

"I suppose so." Cortin sighed. "Brad, do you have anyone who can handle that? None of us are liturgists."

"As it happens--" Everyone, Bradford included, laughed--"Inquisitor-Lieutenant Andrews at the Center is good, and would appreciate the challenge. I'll call him as soon as I get home. And this time I will warn you: he's one of those who believes you are the Protector, so you probably won't appreciate his efforts. But they'll be well-done."

Cortin grimaced. "As Ivan said, devotions are for the devotees, not the objects of that devotion. If He doesn't mind, I don't suppose I can. And I suppose I should take a look at whatever your liturgist comes up with. So should Mike and Sis."

"He'll expect that, and to have you critique his work. He's conscientious; he'll want to be sure it's right. Can we dedicate tonight's service to that intention?"

"I don't see why not," Odeon said. "Sis?"

"It seems most fitting. I would suggest we also ask that the Protector ordain more priests, either through us or through the Herald, to be prepared when we may begin Sealing those outside the current group."

"You're Herald, Joanie," Odeon said. "What do you think?"

"Since we don't have any idea when He'll manifest, I'm in favor of it. Anyone who feels the call should be ordained, even though the only ones who can feel it are the ones Sealed to Him."

"Right. Everyone ready for services, then?"

For Shayan's reaction: 23a. Waiting

24. Revenge

Thursday, 26 March 2572, New Denver

After Mass and breakfast, Odeon, Bain, and Blackfeather went to the dungeon. There was no question, Blackfeather thought, of her giving up her work as Cortin's historian, even though she'd joined Family Illyanov during her unity with Ivan last evening; while both of them regretted the separation, it would be only until Family Cortin and Strike Force HQ moved to Archangel--probably, Cortin and Illyanov estimated, by late winter or early spring.

To give them time to do whatever Odeon intended to the Brother both of them had claims on, Cortin went to her main-floor office and read the morning New Denver Times, which had picked up Blackfeather's reports and front-paged them, along with news of the Brothers' raid on the convent and Enforcement's successful defense. The Times maintained its reputation for strict reportorial impartiality; Cortin had to turn to the editorial pages to find reaction rather than the facts she already knew.

Not much to her surprise, the reaction was cautious. The editorial writers acknowledged that Families probably would stop or reverse the population decline, but were doubtful that they would be widely accepted, even though the Pope, when approached, had said he could see no objection. The creation of her Archduchy and her ennoblement were acknowledged, along with the creation of Family Cortin, as probably good for the new Archduchy and definitely good for the Family, an honor the Inquisitor-Colonel had earned, though she sensed the writer was relieved not to be in her fief. The Sealings weren't commented on at all. On the other hand, praise for the convent defense was unstinting, and Cortin was singled out for taking swift action to protect the press-gang victims and find the hostages, with the writer expressing the hope she would carry out equally swift justice on the captured Brothers, particularly the one who had helped maim her. There was no mention of revenge, but there was the implication the writer thought it would be appropriate for her.

Cortin put the paper down, frowning. It was true that she had been looking forward to her first chance at personal revenge ever since the attack on her--but now that she had it, the opportunity didn't seem anywhere near as attractive. There was no question but that the Brother deserved the revenge she'd planned for him, and more; his crimes undoubtedly deserved more punishment than she could possibly inflict.

But punishment wasn't the problem with this one, any more than it had been with any of her earlier subjects. It was the revenge part that bothered her, though it certainly wasn't illegal--or sinful, for Enforcement troops, since they were carrying out God's vengeance even when it had a personal component. So why had the idea of taking her revenge on this Brother suddenly lost its savor?

She mulled that over for some time before she was able to come to what seemed like a reasonable hypothesis. The Father had claimed vengeance as His own, but Jeshua had concentrated on mercy, even though some of His priests had been fighters. The Protector emphasized love and justice; possibly those who represented Him weren't supposed to indulge in vengeance. She'd have to talk to Mike about that, find out if he'd run into the same thing.

Maybe she could tell without talking, though, so she went down to Suite Bravo's observation room--Suite Alpha held the Brother team-leader--and joined Blackfeather. The reporter looked pale and had turned the speaker off, but was managing to control herself; Cortin greeted her with approval, then turned to watch Odeon.

Odeon's back was to her, so she couldn't see his expression. His manner, though, was more professional than passionate, which supported her hypothesis so far. The same went for Bain, who was holding the prisoner, though that was less evidential; to the best of Cortin's knowledge, he'd never expressed any desire for personal revenge against the ones who'd maimed her. She'd only be sure of it regarding him if they happened to capture one of the terrorists who'd tortured his brother.

"If he was on one of Larry's personal teams, he won't be able to tell you anything," Blackfeather said, interrupting Cortin's train of thought. "Larry did something to them, and to all his doubles, so they couldn't."

"Unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected," Cortin said. "Whatever I think of him otherwise, I know he's not stupid; it stands to reason that he'd give his closest associates the best protection he could. Especially if it also protected him at the same time."

"What will you do to him, then? Turn him over to the courts? Or take your revenge?"

Cortin looked at her sharply, but saw none of the disapproval the words implied, only curiosity. "Neither. If I gave him to the courts, he would simply be turned over to another Inquisitor for punishment and execution--probably one who wouldn't give him the time or opportunity to repent."

"Repent!" Blackfeather exclaimed, looking confused. "Joan, you can't believe--"

"I'll try, but I don't expect him to take the opportunity." The historian still looked uncertain, so Cortin continued. "He deserves far more punishment than I can impose, but I no longer believe anyone--even Shayan himself--deserves Hell for eternity. So I'll put this one through as much as he can survive of the kind of torment he gave his victims, though my methods will be different since I have both skills and equipment he didn't--but I will also pray for him, and if he repents, give him the Sacraments and allow him to finish his punishment in Purgatory."

"You don't want revenge?"

"Not any more. I think vengeance is for those who can't accept justice, and maybe for those who've been denied it. From the way I feel, I'd say it's not for the Protector or His people--though Mike may feel differently."

"He said about the same thing before he and Dave got started. At the convent, he wanted revenge, but by this morning, he was past that stage. And I think that frightened the Brother more than the revenge did."

Cortin thought for a moment, then nodded. "It probably would me, too. You can get to someone who's emotionally involved, if only to egg them on and end it quicker; a professional doing a job doesn't have that kind of handle."

"I can see that--" Blackfeather broke off as Odeon turned, rubbing his knuckles, and switched the sound back on.

"Is Colonel Cortin with you, Sara?" he asked.

"I'm here, Captain," Cortin said. "You have the subject ready for me?"

"Yes, Excellency. How would you like him?"

Cortin hesitated before answering. She had intended to start by raping and gelding this one, but since she now had to take Sara's history into consideration, that no longer seemed appropriate. Although he'd undoubtedly raped and maimed quite a few besides herself, making it appropriate in that sense, the fact that he had done it to her would give it the appearance of personal revenge rather than impersonal punishment. Better to use techniques with less chance for misinterpretation. "Standard position, I think. At least to begin with."

"Our pleasure, Excellency." Odeon bowed slightly, then he and Bain took care of securing the prisoner as she'd asked, and Bain left.

Cortin explained her change of plan and the reason to Blackfeather, and got a nod. "I made the assumption you'd want to see at least one session," she finished, "but if you'd rather it be later, that's up to you."

"I don't want to, but I definitely should," Blackfeather said. "And I suppose this is as good a time as any."

"Let's go, then." It wasn't until she was entering Bravo's third-stage room that Cortin thought to ask, "Do you want me to describe what I'm thinking as I work? Though I doubt it'll be suitable for publication."

"As I said earlier, even what I don't publish will be useful for background--knowing your thought processes will be a big help."

"All right--but it'll mean leaving the speaker on. Want me to mute him after I finish the preliminary, so you don't have to hear screams?"

"I-- Yes, please." Blackfeather managed a shaky grin. "I never thought I was the squeamish type, but there's something about this kind of violence that bothers me, even when I know it's necessary."

"That's normal," Cortin said. "Nothing to worry about, as long as you don't get carried away, like some Terrans did, and worry more about the criminal's pain than the victim's. Compassion is good, but you have to remember who deserves that and who deserves punishment."

"I know--being squeamish doesn't mean I've gone soft in the head. I'd rather not butcher my own meat, either, but I'm grateful to the ones who do it."

"Fair enough." God willing, she thought, Sara would never get over what she called squeamishness; humanity needed far more of that type than it did Inquisitors, or even regular Enforcement troopers.

The prisoner spat as she approached him to begin her preliminary evaluation. "Do your worst, Bitch--you'll get nothing from me!"

"So I have been informed, by a far more reliable source. I will be asking you no questions." Wait, though. And think aloud, for Sara. "Not immediately, at least. You have been protected against conventional questioning, even an Inquisitor's--but that means only that you cannot be forced to speak; it does not mean you cannot speak if you choose. Preliminaries first, however."

Those went better than she had expected. Mike was developing a good ability to anticipate the way she intended to work on a subject, and had been careful selecting the areas to sensitize. When she finished her evaluation, she went to her cabinets, studying their contents. "I'm ready to silence him. Something that won't do more than minor damage, preferably, which leaves out surgery . . . yes, this should do." She removed a vial, filled a syringe, and returned to her subject. "My observer prefers that you not scream, and since I can tell from your reactions if you should wish to confess, I am free to oblige. Paralyzing your throat muscles should serve the purpose nicely."

To her surprise, he didn't fight the injection. "Do you expect him to save you somehow?"

The man shook his head, sneering.

"To give you an easy death, then?"

He shrugged.

"You believe it possible, though he avoids me and did nothing to save you from Captain Odeon's beating."

"On the other hand," Blackfeather said through the speaker, "he could very well be using your punishment for his own ends. He told me once that letting a failure die under an Inquisitor's questioning was a good preliminary to what would happen once said failure died and arrived in Hell."

The man stiffened, mouthing Blackfeather's name.

Cortin nodded. "I see he did not tell you he sent her to us. Miss Blackfeather is now Sealed to the Protector, and a part of His team. I cannot offer you either, but should you repent during this part of your punishment, I will see that you die in a state of grace."

"Go to Hell, Bitch!" the man mouthed.

"Sara, were you able to read his lips?"

"No. What was it?"

"The usual; he wished me in Hell." Cortin's attention went back to her subject. "That is not my destination. In an attempt to keep you from going there, however, I will provide you the closest approximation I can manage to its torments. You will die painfully here, and continue to suffer afterward--but as long as you live, you have the chance to reject Shayan, make your torment a brief prelude to Heaven."

* * * * *

After a couple of hours, Cortin could no longer ignore a niggling feeling she'd had since entering the dungeon; she broke off her interrogation, signaling Odeon and Blackfeather to join her in the suite's office.

"You feel him too, huh?" Odeon asked, as soon as the door closed behind him.

"I feel something like being watched, yes. It's not Sara, but she's the only other person here--what 'he' are you talking about, and how could he be watching anything?"

"Shayan," Odeon said flatly. "There's a different feel to his mind-touch--I couldn't sense any menace from him--but after what he did to me, I can't mistake his identity."

"Shayan!" Cortin and Blackfeather exclaimed in unison.

"But I didn't sense anything," Blackfeather continued. "I would've thought any time he was around, physically or otherwise, I'd know it."

Odeon shrugged. "I can't say about that, Sara--all I know is what I've just told you. He's watching us, for whatever reason, yet I feel very strongly that he's not going to interfere." He rubbed the scar across his mouth, frowning in puzzlement. "Impossible as it sounds, I get the impression he intends to help us somehow. Not that he likes us--any but Sara, anyway. The feeling's more like . . . it's vague, not based on deliberate communication, but I'd call it something like a determined, if reluctant, alliance."

Cortin frowned. "Are you sure?"

"It's vague, like I said, but I'm as sure as I can be under the circumstances. I don't think it's possible to lie, mind to mind--could be your truthsense is a special form of telepathy."

"Shayan helping us. That doesn't sound possible." Cortin paused, still frowning. "I hate to ask, Mike, and I'll understand if you don't want to--"

"But you'd like me to ask him directly." Odeon rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. "Okay. Just don't be surprised if I go into another funk." He turned his attention to the Hell-King. *You've been listening; you know what I want.*

*You are quite correct about both the alliance and the reluctance,* came the reply. *This, however, is not the time to go into that; the discussion we need to have will take longer than Cortin should give her prisoner to regroup. I am observing primarily so I will know when you are free for that discussion; I will not continue it now. For the moment, suffice it to say I will be pleased if her efforts to obtain this one's repentance are successful, though I very much doubt that will be the case.* With that, the direct contact broke, though Odeon still sensed the observation.

"Are you okay, Mike?" Cortin asked anxiously. "You look pale."

"Yeah, just a little shaken. By what he said, not the contact itself this time." Odeon repeated what he'd been told, seeing astonishment to match his own on the women's faces.

"He'll be pleased if this one repents?" Cortin asked in disbelief.

"Uh-huh. And he doesn't want you giving him too much of a break."

"That doesn't sound like Larry, unless . . ." Blackfeather paused, cocked her head. "He's got something to gain. Something that outweighs all his other interests--so I'd recommend very strongly that Your Excellency take his advice and return to your subject."

"Since it would seem what he has to gain coincides with our interests, at least temporarily, that would seem to be the best, yes."

* * * * *

Cortin peeled off her coverall and went upstairs with the other two, feeling a peculiar combination of satisfaction and disappointment. Her subject had been punished as thoroughly as she could manage for nearly ten hours--but he'd been as intransigent as Shayan had hinted, and he'd died cursing the Protector.

That was a blow, though she'd known she couldn't possibly turn all--maybe not even most--of her subjects to God. She'd tried her best with this one, she reminded herself, and if she hadn't been able to turn him, no one could have.

The odd part was that Shayan had wanted her to turn him, which she still didn't understand. While most of her wanted to avoid any possible contact with him, a small part was so curious about why he was cooperating that she couldn't help wanting the discussion he'd mentioned.

25. Discussion

The rest of the Family had waited supper, except for the children, who'd already finished and, to Cortin's relief, gone back to their floor. She and Odeon showered and got back into uniform while Sara told the rest about their brief communication with Shayan.

There was little conversation during the meal, though Cortin did comment that she'd expected him to make contact again as soon as her subject died.

"He says there isn't that much of a rush," Odeon reported. "He also wants to know how you'd prefer the discussion to take place: phone, mind-touch, or in person. He's offering to heal Chuck and Tony, too, then bring them home, to seal the alliance."

"An offer I'll definitely accept," Cortin said. "And I'd prefer a meeting in person, if he can get here without frightening the servants."

"He says he can. Tony and Chuck will be here as soon as they get dressed, and he'll join us himself when we're in the common-room and ready for him."

* * * * *

The reunited Family had spent a few minutes celebrating, then Cortin had ordered refreshments set up in the common-room. When that was done and the servants had left, the Family pulled chairs into a circle and seated themselves. Moments later, with no fanfare, the empty spot was occupied by what looked like a slim elderly man in a white cassock.

"Shayan," Cortin said, keeping her voice level.

"I prefer Lucius, if you don't mind."

"Lucius, then. I knew I'd have to face you eventually; let's get it over with."

The Pope held up both hands, shaking his head. "This is a simple discussion, Colonel, not the decision point. You must have realized that for yourself, to have accepted the alliance and this meeting."

Cortin sighed. "It could've been a ruse. I was almost hoping so, just to finish the matter."

"No ruse," Lucius assured her. "My motives must remain my own, but it is in my self-interest to support the Strike Forces and the Families, as well as promoting devotion to both Jeshua and the Protector. For that reason, and that reason alone, you may count on my unstinting support for . . . I would estimate the next couple of years, perhaps more."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because of your truthsense." Lucius smiled briefly. "I like you, Colonel Cortin."

"Which is a flat lie." Cortin nodded. "All right, between that evidence and your claim that your support is due to your own self-interest, I'll accept it as real. What about the Brotherhood?"