The Alembic Plot Part 30

On the other hand, both Edward and Ursula were thoroughly taken with her, which was unusual for both of them, so Her Excellency must have qualities he couldn't see, even allowing for her scheme to let them have heirs. He touched the cartridge at his neck, frowning again.

Unusual qualities, for these to be so popular with the troops that many insisted on having one before going out in the field and swore by their efficacy. Maybe he ought to have her bless a couple of cases of them, make them standard issue . . .

Back to the subject, he thought, leaning back. The idea of polygamy had seemed obscene when Edward first mentioned it, but the longer he thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed to become. As a matter of morality, her argument that monogamy at this point was tantamount to racial suicide had a certain validity, and suicide was a sin. And her argument that marriage laws could be changed was also valid; the Modern Saints had been branded heretics not because of their polygamy but because they had claimed Shayan to be Jeshua's brother. And the theologians were still arguing about that . . .

Then there was his responsibility, as Sovereign, for his subjects'

welfare, which tied in with his personal desire to leave his descendants a prosperous, expanding group of Systems . . . which he wouldn't be able to do without some fairly drastic action. If he didn't, in a few generations there would be no Kingdom Systems--a fact he'd known for some time, but had avoided thinking about because there seemed to be no solution.

Now, though, he'd been handed a chance, if he could arrange to implement it. Keep Cortin the focus of whatever happened as a result, of course; even the best Inquisitor was more expendable than royalty.

From Edward's report on the airborne conference, Bishop-Colonel Bradford ought to be willing to help get Church approval for Enforcement to formalize the informal group marriages it was rumored they had in some of the more remote areas.

Remote areas? The High King smiled as an idea took form. He'd have to discuss it with his lesser monarchs, because of their agreement that all Royal Inquisitors hold the same rank--but it promised a place for Cortin to offer anyone who wanted a group marriage but didn't want the notoriety that would inevitbly accompany the first ones. It would also--a not inconsiderable benefit--silence My Lord of New Colorado's complaints about having to administer territories that cost his Dukedom more than the revenues they generated. Those complaints were justified, the King admitted--but he was incredibly tired of hearing them!

That would have to wait, though. The King switched on his intercom, spoke to his secretary. "Peter, get hold of Bishop-Colonel Bradford.

I want to see him as soon as he can get here."

Cortin disliked the reception, leaving as soon as she thought it would be socially acceptable, intending to indulge herself with a new subject. Once she got back to the Lodge, though, she decided she was too tired to do a proper job of starting an interrogation, and Brady said most of the men had gone to the New Eden joyhouse. So she might as well make an early night of it; after a hot soaking bath, she went to bed and quickly fell asleep.

Fifteen years disappeared; it was the night after Graduation, and Mike was holding her close after their first lovemaking, smiling down at her. "Marry me, Joanie?"

"Of course, beloved." Cortin returned his smile, giving him a lingering kiss.

They were married soon after, and she found that married life agreed with her; she remained in the Service, but instead of going into the field as she'd planned, she took postgraduate work and became an Inquisitor. That let her spend time with her husband, when he wasn't out on a mission, and with the three children they had. The youngest was almost a year old when Mike came home with a pleased expression that told her he'd contracted the Satyr Plague.

They lay together in the dark warmth, savoring each other, not hurrying their caresses in spite of their desire. He wanted her to lie still, let him pleasure her with his new capacity--

Her bedroom door opened, bringing her awake with her gun in her hand.

"Who's there?"

"Mike--I hadn't expected you to be asleep this early. I hope I didn't interrupt a good dream."

Cortin put the gun down. "Only the best I've had in years. Come on in, if you want; is there something wrong?"

"No, just thought you might like some normal company after that Palace to-do." He entered the room, the hallway light showing, to her pleasure, that he was already undressed. "What was the dream?"

"Graduation night, then the first time we got together after you managed to catch the satyr bug." She was not going to tell him about the impossible marriage and children . . . Letting amused irritation show in her voice, she went on, "Or would have, until you interrupted yourself. Interested in starting over?"

"Any time," Odeon said with a chuckle. "Especially since it seems this is one I owe myself!"

16. Marriage

Cortin lay awake, listening to Odeon's soft breathing and thinking.

The dream had been almost pure wish fulfillment, a wish she'd both had and known was impossible since the day she'd met him. She'd never had the slightest interest in any of her schoolmates, or any marriage interest in the Enforcement men she'd met after Mike . . . but Special Ops men didn't marry, couldn't have children, so she'd settled for what they could have.

The dispensation helped, no doubt about that, but it wasn't enough!

Even if they couldn't have children, they ought to be able to have some sort of stable relations.h.i.+p--and the only way she could see of giving it to them was to have her new family structure accepted. In fact, everything seemed to hinge on that, from maintaining social stability--although in a new form--to the continued existence of humanity in the Systems. Good as it would be for the parents and the Kingdoms as a whole, though, it would be best for the children--and for Special Ops troops, giving the trooper a real home and the family he married into a second father/husband--or in her case and Piety's, mother/wife--and provider. A mostly-male marriage might be a bit much at times for the wife or wives, though, unless it did include troopers . . .

Cortin felt briefly complacent at that; she could satisfy a shelter full of troopers without a bit of strain! Mike was right that G.o.d had been more than generous to her; even the attack had been only a prelude allowing her the increased pleasure men now gave her. It was too bad, in a way, that other women were limited to what she'd had before . . .

but they couldn't know, any more than she had then, what they were missing. And they had something she no longer did: the hope, at least, of children. She couldn't help envying them that, the joys of home and family she'd never know. Still, she told herself sternly, she'd accepted that fact months ago, and without the consolations G.o.d had granted her since.

She thought about those consolations, frowning. There were a lot of troopers who'd been hurt as badly as she, some maimed far worse, without any corresponding compensations. Maybe Mike was right about that too, and G.o.d did have some kind of purpose for her--which was a frightening thought. If He had a purpose for anyone on Team Azrael, it should be Mike; he was the most devout, a natural priest, and he'd been raised by religious. Even though she was making a conscientious effort, at Mike's urging, to dedicate her entire life rather than just her pain to G.o.d, she didn't believe she could be called truly devout.

Or, much as she enjoyed the exaltation of saying Ma.s.s, that she was a natural priest. Yes, Mike was far more suited to serving a divine purpose than she was.

And he was waking; this would be as good a time as any to bring up the part of her vision she was most frightened by. And maybe the part she'd liked best . . . When he started to sit up, she spoke. "I need to talk to you, Mike. Got a few minutes, or do you need to get up right away?"

"I've got all the time you want," Odeon said, settling back. "What's the problem?"

Cortin moved toward him. "I . . . didn't tell everything about what I saw when I was under. Part because it was too frightening, part because it was too . . . personal. I'm not even sure I can tell you."

Odeon took her in his arms. "Okay. The frightening part first."

"I . . . believe Sis now. Shannon is Shayan, or under his direct control." Cortin s.h.i.+vered. "I was in a prewar bio-lab--you know, the kind we've all seen pictures of?" When he nodded, she went on. "It was a Brothers of Freedom lab. I know that, somehow, even though there were no symbols and no one heard of the Brothers for another fifty years. Shannon was there, looking exactly like he does today, and he was engineering the worst of the plague strains. Working with his mind, the equipment was there just for show. And he was proud of himself; he'd just persuaded the ruler of one of those tiny asteroid colonies that if they used his plagues they could take over St. Monica without bloodshed. Mike, the Final War was no accident, or innocent mistake, or even a human horror--it was Shayan, turned loose!"

Odeon stroked her back, trying to comfort her. "The Bible does say he'd be set free for a hundred years before the Protector begins working against him." And that fit too; history said work on the plagues had started in 2464, and she'd graduated--begun work against him and his Brotherhood--in 2564. "So the Protector's here, and working--just not openly yet."

"But why not?"

Odeon shrugged. "I'm only human; you can't expect me to know why G.o.d does what He does. All we can do is trust Him, try to help in whatever ways we can."

"That's not terribly comforting." Cortin snuggled closer. "I'd feel a lot better if I knew who the Protector is, at least. Are you him?"

"No." Odeon didn't dare elaborate; she was too likely to pick up on the smallest mistake. Instead he decided to change the subject, hoping to distract her. "What's the personal thing--if you can talk about it?"

Cortin was silent for a moment, then she sighed. "I guess I wouldn't have brought it up if I hadn't intended to tell you, even though it's a little embarra.s.sing--I don't think of you as a child!" After another brief hesitation, she went on. "It was pure wish fulfillment, I'm afraid--the part with you, at least." She moved slightly away, just enough that she could bring his hand to her breast. "You and Sis were nursing, and I was actually able to give you milk. It felt so incredibly good, especially you even though it wasn't exactly s.e.xual . . . I can't describe it, not really. You can't believe how much I wish I could do it again, and not in a dream!"

Odeon cupped her breast, feeling the nipple harden as he stroked it with his thumb. It stood to reason, given the additions he and the other "staff" had developed since being sealed to her, that she could--though possibly, to protect her secret from herself, not until she was sealed to the true Protector. "Maybe you can, Joanie. I'm not the Protector, but while you were under, Sis and I were empowered to carry out some of those functions." He grinned. "The main one is the Sealing--and its purpose, of course, is protection from sin for those willing to give up that option."

"You and Sis?" Cortin was a little disappointed that she hadn't been included, but admitted to herself that the two of them did make more sense. "Mike, you know I've been doing my best to do His will; can you give me that protection?"

"Gladly!" Odeon thought for a moment, then got out of bed. "Here, the common-room, or the chapel?"

Her bedroom didn't feel like a proper place for a religious ritual, Cortin thought, and she wasn't sure it would be polite to carry out one of the Protector's rituals in a chapel belonging to Jeshua, even though they were Aspects of the same G.o.d. "The common-room, I think," she said, getting up. "Do we need icons or symbols, anything like that?"

That hadn't occurred to Odeon, and he said so. "I like the idea, though," he continued. "We can't have icons yet, with the Protector not wanting to be identified, but we should be able to manage something with symbols. For Justice and Life, do you think?"

"Those are supposed to be His main concerns," Cortin agreed. "Scales or a sword for Justice--probably a sword, since we all have those with our dress uniforms. What for Life, though?"

Something s.e.xual, was Odeon's first reaction, because that was the life-creating act--but the Sealing itself wasn't, not really. "The One Who empowered Sis and me mentioned flowers; how about those?"

"Sounds good," Cortin said. "If you'll get the sword, I'll see if I can improvise an altar."

Not long afterward, they had done so. A small table she'd covered with a white silk sheet held Odeon's dress sword and a vase of Peace roses, plus a chalice of milk and a piece of bread he promised she'd understand soon. It was improvised, true, and not even consecrated, but Cortin found herself deeply affected by it.

"What do you think?" Odeon asked.