Chapter 27

Odeon wasn't sure what he'd expected the ship's interior to be like--similar to an airplane, maybe. Once they got past the airlock and a series of large lockers, though, what he saw could have been the inside of a large, modern building. If he hadn't just watched it land, he wouldn't have believed himself inside a vehicle. "Your guard's uniform was black--a Marine?"

"Right. SecuDiv--sorry, Security Division; I doubt you know our abbreviations--like all the ones assigned to Columbus." DeLayne smiled at his guest. "I'd better warn you, Captain--my medical people will probably want more from you than a blood sample. I don't know how your people feel about doctors, but don't let Drulet intimidate you into more than you're comfortable with."

"I won't. I don't have anything against doctors; I owe my life to several of them." Odeon paused, thinking. Joanie was taking them into the Empire, which knew even less about the Kingdoms than the other way around, so-- "Since you've got to start learning about us, too, I'll go as far as a complete physical--provided it doesn't include the use of any drugs."

"It doesn't. He'll be delighted."

* * * * *

The examination didn't take as long as Odeon expected, less than three hours, but it was the most complete he'd ever had--and the least understandable. The doctor tried to explain, but Odeon didn't have the background to make sense out of body scans, biochemical and genetic analyses, or other procedures. After a bit he told the doctor so, to Drulet's amusement. "Okay, Captain, no more jargon. I'll wait till we're done and just give you the results, okay? If you want them."

"The results, sure, if you can keep them down to a layman's level. I'm not even trained in our medicine, and this--" Odeon gestured to the equipment around them, "is so far ahead of ours it isn't funny."

"I think I can manage that. Okay, nothing but chit-chat until we get to my office. Do you like coffee?"

"I'll drink it, but given a choice, I really prefer herb teas. Something with a tang, like cranberry or ginger."

"I know just the thing." Drulet grinned. "I'll stick with coffee, and you can try Blue Ginger. That originated on Herbert's World--have you heard of it?"

"Afraid not."

* * * * *

Odeon sipped his tea, then nodded appreciatively. "This is good, Doctor. Okay, what's the verdict?"

"You're healthy as the proverbial horse, Captain. More injuries than I've seen on a single individual before, but no lasting damage--and contrary to what you told me about your medical history, you've never been sick a day in your life. No chickenpox or measles, no colds--and no satyr plague." He shook his head as Odeon started to object. "Oh, you're a carrier, all right; the pseudo-virus is in your body fluids. It just isn't inside your cells."

"But I've got all the symptoms!"

"Yes, you told me--the diagnostic ones being the increased sexual capacity and the penile moistening during arousal. The tests are conclusive, though; in your case those are genetic, not disease-caused."

Odeon frowned. "Then how come none of it showed up till the day after I had intercourse the first time? Because that's when the urge got strong and I started getting wet."

Drulet shrugged. "That question I can't answer; I don't know enough about the disease. Could be pure coincidence, or maybe the virus' presence in your body pulled the genetic trigger, so to speak. Possibly any physical stress or trauma could've set it off, once puberty hit. But that's all guesswork."

"I understand." That part, anyway, Odeon thought. Why he'd have a genetic condition that mimicked the satyr plague was a whole 'nother question, and one he knew the doctor wouldn't be able to answer, so he dropped the subject. "Would you mind sending my commanding officer a copy of your report, so it can go in my medical records? I'm due my annual physical next month, but with this one so recent and so much more thorough, that can be waivered."

"Be glad to. If you don't mind, I'll forward a copy to Ranger Medart as well. His eyes only, of course."

Odeon didn't particularly like that idea, for no reason he could pinpoint--he'd taken the examination so Imperials could learn about Kingdoms people, after all--but he nodded. "I suppose so."

"In that case," DeLayne's voice broke in, behind Odeon, "you wouldn't mind if I also send him anything I learn from you."

"No--but he did say he wanted to get his data in person."

"What's the difference if I send him the ship's record tapes of our conversations, or he talks to you himself?"

Odeon frowned. "The ship tapes everything? You don't have any privacy?"

"Everything in the public areas, yes. Admiral Columbus, please tell Captain Odeon how you handle monitoring of private quarters."

"Yes, Captain," came from the air, startling Odeon. "I monitor those only for sounds of distress or people requesting my attention, and permanently tape only those situations; everything else is wiped automatically within approximately one microsecond."

"Your ship talks to you?"

DeLayne and Drulet both chuckled at Odeon's incredulity. "Yes, she does. All Imperial ships of this class or higher--which means all but couriers or landers--have AI-level ship-comps."

Odeon was silent for a moment, then he said, "Okay, I'll bite; what does that mean?"

"Sorry," DeLayne said. "That's a ship-wide computer complex enough to be classified as an artificial intelligence. That means that if you didn't know you were talking to a computer, you'd think it was a very intelligent human. I gather you're not too familiar with computers?"

"That's one way to put it; I've never used one, and only seen a few. None of those talked, and I never heard of any being intelligent!"

DeLayne chuckled. "Any time you want to talk to one, address her the way I did. She'll answer you, as long as you don't get into classified information."

"That may take me a while to get used to. No offense intended, Admiral Columbus."

"I do not have feelings, so I cannot take offense, Captain Odeon, but I thank you for the courtesy."

"You're welcome," Odeon replied automatically, before turning to DeLayne. "Even the little bit I've experienced so far--this Sickbay and talking to your ship--is awesome. It makes me feel . . . I don't know. I'm competent enough in the Kingdom Systems, but it's pretty clear none of us are anything but total incompetents in your terms. I don't like that feeling."

"Neither would I, in your place. But don't worry about it; as I told Colonel Cortin, we aren't monsters, and we don't force ourselves on anyone. If she does decide the Systems should join the Empire, we'll offer but not impose education about us and our science. Also whatever you need to bring yourselves to our level."

"Like you offered to teach me?"

"Exactly. Ready to get started?"

"Definitely." Odeon allowed himself a brief smile as he stood. "Let's go see one of these 'teaching tapes' you mentioned. Are they anything like a book?"

"Nothing at all. They aren't really tapes, either; they just got called that, back when they were invented, and the name stuck. Let's go to my cabin, and I'll introduce you to them. Admiral Columbus, please have a reader and basic-language tape waiting in my fabricator."

"Yes, Captain."

"Fabricator?" Odeon asked as they left Sickbay, going deeper into the ship.

"Yes. Do you know anything about molecular physics?"

"No." Odeon sighed. "I'm really in over my head, aren't I?"

DeLayne chuckled. "Not really; that's one of my degrees, is all, and I enjoy discussing it when I get the chance. Most people haven't the faintest idea how fabricators work; they just use them. We don't manufacture small items any more; once a prototype's developed, the pattern is scanned and recorded. When you want one of that item, you code it into your fabricator, and the fabricator constructs it, with any modifications you specify in the coding, from reconstituted raw materials. When you're done with it, you feed it back into the fabricator's raw material storage for re-use."

Odeon whistled. "That's incredible. Things like your uniform?"

"Among others, yes."

"And I thought the plague and Families were causing a major social upheaval. What you're going to do to us . . . Maybe Colonel Cortin's right to be afraid of you after all, though not for the reason she thinks."

"I can't deny there'll be stress," DeLayne said soberly. "You won't have to join, and you won't have to accept anything from us that you don't want--but just making open contact will cause changes, yes. It's a good thing for your Systems that Colonel Cortin was able to get Ranger Medart, too. Any Ranger would be good, but he's the Empire's best at anything involving cultural differences--which we don't try to destroy, as you probably already know. To quote a twentieth-century writer by the name of O'Sullivan, our aim is to 'preserve the unique viewpoints of different groups, but at the same time require that each group be tolerant of the others'. We see harmonious diversity as a good thing."

"I'd gotten that impression, but not in so many words. The Sandemans and Traiti, from what I've studied, both maintain their own cultures within their Subsector and Sector."

"And so do the cloudcats, on Ondrian. They're another race Ranger Medart managed to bring into the Empire peacefully--damn good thing for us, since that's the only place miracle-weed produces usable rapid-heal."

"I never heard of any of those."

DeLayne chuckled. "Learning from comm intercepts would tend to be fragmentary, especially when the ultrawave beams aren't aimed at you and you don't have the cultural background to understand a lot of what you do hear. That's what we're in the process of remedying. And here's my cabin." He put his hand to a small plate beside the door, which promptly opened onto a small living area. "Have a seat while I go get the tape and player--my fabricator's in the bedroom."

Odeon obeyed, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn't afraid of the Empire, and as he'd told Joanie months ago when he first started studying them, he already had some respect for them. DeLayne was adding to that, even as he was overwhelming Odeon with casually incomprehensible references. Fabricators, cloudcats, miracle-weed, rapid-heal . . . and teaching tapes. DeLayne was emerging from the bedroom carrying what looked like a small book and a thin box of matches, though Odeon was sure those had to be the reader and 'tape' he'd mentioned.

"Here we go," DeLayne said, pulling up a chair. He handed Odeon the reader, which turned out to be a screen with a row of words underneath--all of which, to Odeon's gratification, he was able to puzzle out--and showed him how to insert the tape, then explained the touch controls for tape direction and speed. "The older models have electrodes that have to go on the temples," he added, "but the new ones don't need them. Some people have a mild reaction, disorientation or a touch of nausea; if you do, slowing the tape down usually gets rid of it. Whenever you're ready, just touch the "Go" button."

"Okay." Odeon did so--and promptly doubled over.

Alarmed, DeLayne grabbed the tape player and shut it off. "What's wrong, Captain?"

"I thought you said . . . mild nausea and disorientation. Not stomach cramps and . . . the worst headache I've ever had."

DeLayne frowned. "I've never heard of a reaction that bad, or I would've warned you. Let me get Dr. Drulet to prescribe you something."

"Thanks, but no thanks; I'll be okay. It's fading already." Odeon straightened cautiously, shaking his head. "I don't think I'd care to repeat the experience, though. Do you have any ordinary books I can use instead?"

"No, but I can have the ship print you out what's on the tapes. Normally I'd suggest you try a standard reading tape, but after that reaction, printouts would probably be the best idea. They're a hell of a lot slower than teaching tapes, though; it'll take you a day or so to learn what the tape would've given you in a couple of minutes."

"I'll take the day, and the printouts."

"You've got them. Imperial English, or should I have the ship transcribe everything into the pre-Imperial alphabet?"

"Imperial," Odeon said, after a moment's thought. "I'm going to have to learn it sooner or later, so why put it off?"

"That makes sense. And I don't think I'd better let any of your people try taking a tape till the Lindner gets here. An IBC has better research facilities than a scout; they may be able to find out why you reacted so badly, whether it's an individual reaction or something everyone in the Systems shares, and how to avoid it."

"That makes sense, too. Thanks, Captain. Aside from the alphabet, what would you recommend I study first?"

"In your place I'd start with basic history and Imperial structure. Once you know that, you're in a better position than I am to decide what else you'll need."

"I'll do that, then."

27a. At Harmony Lodge

28. Aboard the Lindner

James Medart was looking forward to his arrival in the Kingdom Systems. Another new culture to study, this time a group whose ancestors had fled the early Empire in an attempt to escape religious persecution. From Captain DeLayne's reports, that had been about four hundred years ago, and even though they refused to discuss religion, DeLayne said that from their symbols and occasional references, they were a Roman Catholic variant.

DeLayne's primary informant was Cortin's second-in-command, who was also studying the Empire with considerable interest, DeLayne said, but making slow progress because he had a strong negative reaction to teaching tapes. That was unfortunate, Medart thought, but Odeon's attitude was a distinct improvement on Cortin's fear. He admitted to being a priest, once DeLayne asked about some of his insigne, but was reluctant to go beyond that, and said most of their Founders' records had been destroyed in the Final War. He couldn't provide the historical background Medart would have liked, then, so the Ranger decided to see what he could find from the Imperial side.

After several days' research, he studied what he'd been able to put together from obscure and also incomplete records--not typical of the time, and he found himself wondering if that could be deliberate. Sabotage, maybe, by some who had stayed behind, to protect those who had left?

The group that founded the Kingdom Systems had begun as a large Roman Catholic parish in the Southwestern United States, conventional except that it was allowed to use the Latin Mass. In 2148, however, they were assigned a new priest. Until his arrival there, he had seemed equally conventional, though he had already gained a reputation for great charisma and persuasiveness. When he became parish priest, however, he began preaching about the Final Coming--not of Christ, but of a Third Aspect of God he called the Protector. This Aspect would appear after Satan had been released from Hell and allowed to wreak his will for a hundred years. He also called for the ordination of women, a priesthood allowed to marry, and numerous other changes.

To the Vatican's dismay, he attracted a large number of followers from all over the world. Many moved to his parish, while those who disagreed with him moved out. The entire group was excommunicated in 2156, branded a heretic cult, and generally scorned by outsiders. At this point, it began implementing the priest's suggested changes, including new terms for Satan and Jesus--now Shayan and Jeshua.

All this got them greater notoriety and contempt. To escape that, the priest persuaded his followers that it would be best to flee this persecution and the Empire that permitted it--though in fact the Empire was simply maintaining its strict neutrality regarding religious matters--and, in 2158, the group left Terra, fleeing in three surprisingly large and well-equipped ships. Nothing had been heard of them since, and apparently no one had particularly cared; there had been no investigation or follow-up of any kind.

Another deliberately self-"lost" colony, Medart thought. At least this one wasn't fighting them, and from Odeon's medical records there didn't seem to be any genetic tampering, as in the case of the Sandemans--just a pseudo-virus, one that enhanced the sex drive, which had surfaced about thirty years ago, and a mutation in Odeon that somehow mimicked it. That, Medart was certain, was natural rather than engineered; the Kingdoms' medical care was more advanced than the Sandemans' had been at Annexation, but it certainly wasn't up to genetic engineering.

He spent the rest of the trip studying the tapes DeLayne transmitted, including what teaching tapes he'd transcribed for Odeon, and brushing up on Roman Catholic theology of the mid-twenty-second century. The church had been starting to splinter then, but from what little Odeon let slip, it seemed safe to concentrate on what was currently called the Traditional branch--while keeping firmly in mind that this was a variant, possibly in more than the Persons of the Trinity and the names of God and Devil.

29. Arrival

The Columbus left as soon as Medart's ship, the Empress Lindner, entered orbit. Battle cruisers were far too large to land in a gravity field as strong as St. Thomas', so he came down in one of the bus-sized landers along with a single pilot/bodyguard. There was none of the pomp or ceremony Cortin would have expected when royalty from one realm visited another, but Colonel Bradford had decided to leave the Strike Force troops in place because of the Brotherhood, so she was able to have a proper military formation, at least. The Ranger had asked for informality, though, so she and Odeon were the only ones who approached to greet him when he emerged from the lander, followed by his bodyguard. They exchanged introductions, and Medart confirmed Cortin's guess that the small, dark-skinned blond was indeed one of the genetically engineered Sandeman warriors, Lieutenant Keith DarElwyn.

"I thought it might reassure you," Medart said, "if I brought along one of the people we were able to make friends with thirty years ago. I've got Traiti aboard as well, but I don't think you're quite ready for them." Cortin, he thought, was more impressive in person than on screen. She was medium height and build, with straight brown hair not quite shoulder length, wearing a gray uniform with wide-brimmed hat--but it was her eyes that struck him. They were a light brown, with pupils that seemed blacker than space, making them seem to look through you.

Even though he was familiar with Odeon from DeLayne's tapes, he found the scar-faced man more impressive in person, as well. He was a good twenty-five centis taller than his commander, strongly built without looking like a weight-lifter--and the nasty-looking scar that cut across his right cheek down across his mouth and into his chin seemed more a distinction than a disfigurement. Both officers reminded Medart irresistibly of predators, though he couldn't pinpoint the reason . . . maybe that neither seemed to have any softness about @.

It had become almost a reflex for Medart to do a quick mental scan of anyone he met, and under the circumstances, he would've scanned Cortin and Odeon anyway. Mike Odeon was average, with no mind-screen or perceptible Talent other than very minor telepathy, but Cortin was an entirely different story. She had an incredible degree of Talent latent, though it wasn't like any he'd felt before. Still, three and a half years of experience didn't make him an expert in Talent varieties--especially human ones, since that had been discovered only the same three and a half years ago. Her mind-shield had a potential strength even greater than a Sandeman warrior's, though she wasn't using it. She also had a strong telepathic potential, of which she was using a small, untrained portion--and there was another aspect, one he hadn't encountered before, that it felt like she was using fully, though unconsciously. It was a good thing, Medart thought, that he seemed to be immune to that particular aspect. His focus had to remain on the Empire as a whole; he couldn't afford--and had no desire--to fall in love. He was less sure about Keith's immunity, though; even in this brief a time, he could sense a sort of mellowing. He'd have to keep an eye on that, he thought; if Cortin could affect a Sandeman, even one of the rare unshielded warriors like Keith, it might be risky letting her around too many Imperials. On the other hand . . . He made a mental note to contact DeLayne when he was alone, and find out what effect she'd had on the Columbus' captain and crew. Probably none, since he hadn't said anything about it, but best to double-check.

Cortin nodded to the Sandeman. "It would be interesting to get his reactions to the Empire first-hand."

Keith bowed. "I look forward to the opportunity, Excellency."

"Let's go inside, then, and I'll introduce you to the rest of my Family. Did Captain DeLayne brief you about the satyr plague?"

Medart chuckled. "And the Strike Force's . . . ah . . . 'enthusiastic use of their dispensation' was how he phrased it. We've both been immunized, just in case."

"Yes. Well, one of the social changes it triggered, and I helped bring about, was an expanded family structure to allow for the variety it makes you want, while still providing stability for the family itself, particularly the children. Family Cortin began as Strike Force Team Azrael, and most of it still is, though we've added a civilian wife. I understand Sandemans have a strong privacy drive?"

"Very strong," Medart agreed. "Why?"

"Because Family behavior on the private floors can best be described as uninhibited, particularly in the evening," Cortin said. "If open sexuality disturbs him--either of you, for that matter--I'm not sure what to do. You want to learn about us by living with us, and that's part of our life. I certainly can't put one of your rank in a field shelter!"

Medart chuckled. "It doesn't disturb me, but Keith would probably be seriously embarrassed." He enjoyed it, in fact, any time he was on one of the worlds where open sexuality was the norm--particularly where outsiders were allowed or encouraged to participate. That was a preference, though, that Sandemans definitely didn't share. He turned to Keith. "Would you prefer staying in a shelter or the lander, Lieutenant? With this many troops around us, I don't think I need a full-time bodyguard."

"I would, thank you, sir. The lander, by preference."

"You will still eat with us, won't you?" Cortin asked. "We don't generally relax to a degree that should make you uncomfortable until after supper, and the ground floor is always formal."

"I intend no disrespect, Excellency. I will be honored to eat and visit with you."

"Good. Let's go introduce you to my Family, then." As they entered the Lodge and went upstairs to the common-room, she said, "To spare you some confusion about our names: we're all Cortin, since Mike and Sis--the senior spouses--wanted me as head of the Family and named it after me. So Mike's full name is Michael Patrick Cortin-Odeon, but around the Lodge or people who know us well, he's Mike or Captain Odeon, depending on circumstances. Since he's also a priest, you'll sometimes hear adults calling him Father, too."