Bradford
:
MAIN STORY
:
The Alembic Plot
Cortin climbed the stairs to the second floor, Bain following her,
satisfied with the results of her evening's work. Her fear that Sis'
work would leave her vulnerable to sexual stimulus from anyone,
including a Brother of Freedom, had proven unfounded; even when she'd
used eroticine to force an erection on the prisoner she'd chosen for
her evening's work, her only response had been anticipation of a
challenge,
o arousal at all. She could relax, then, concentrate on
doing her new job to the best of her ability. And she'd found Dave
next door; when he'd settled his prisoner for the night, she'd been
eager to share her discovery with him.
When she entered the common-room, she had to hold back a gasp of
astonishment. She'd expected a certain amount of showiness on the
public floor, and it was in the Kingdoms' interest to have the
interrogation areas as well-equipped as possible--but she hadn't
expected to find much more than average living conditions, comfortable
and with the promised privacy. This was luxury, the kind she hadn't
believed real even in stories about royalty. Carpets so thick she
seemed to be wading in them, rather than walking on them--it felt
almost criminal wearing boots on them--paintings even she could see
must be worth at least a small fortune, couches and chairs she wasn't
sure she'd dare to sit in, some covered in fur . . . Then her
admiration was interrupted; Illyanov embraced her, kissing her
thoroughly.
"I know you sent a message about no visitors," he murmured, "but after
last night, I thought you might wish the opportunity. If not, there is
no harm done."
"True, and you're right," Cortin replied with equal quietness. "The
prisoner didn't affect me, but Dave sure did." She raised her voice to
a normal level. "Want to introduce the colleagues I haven't met yet?"
"My pleasure, Excellency." As he was doing so, Illyanov saw Odeon
gesturing him to where her team had gathered. When he joined them,
Odeon said, "You've been in on this as much as any of us, Ivan; Dave's
got some information that may put a different light on Joanie's
sexuality. Go ahead, Dave."
Bain did so, telling them about Cortin's lack of reaction to her
prisoner. "It seems odd," he finished, "that she wouldn't react,
especially with him dripping on eroticine, if it's as involuntary as
she--and we--thought."
"That agrees with what happened this morning," Illyanov said. "We
slept linked last night, and were still so when I woke." He smiled.
"You are all aware of her new ability to intensify climax?" When they
nodded, also smiling, he went on. "That ability can also be most
stimulating if you happen to be within her and relaxed. My point,
however, is that she did not let it continue; she removed herself
before either of us became too aroused. I agree with David: she has
some control, though it may not always be conscious control."
Odeon traded glances with Chang. That sounded as reasonable as the
truth about Cortin, and considerably more believable; they'd go along.
"Then maybe it wasn't a fluke, or fear, when she came down after the
first time," he said. "What about it, Sis?"
"Unconscious control?" Chang said thoughtfully. "I should like to
believe so, and from what you all say, it does sound reasonable. As a
hypothesis, then: she indulges herself based on--if you will excuse the
term--available, acceptable resources and time. I should like more
evidence to either confirm or refute that, however; I have obviously
been wrong on that subject before."
Odeon grinned at her. That was a more reasonable hypothesis for the
others--and for Joanie herself, until it was time for her to go
public--than he could've come up with. "We'll get it for you, though I
don't know if we'll be able to tonight." He waved at the group around
Cortin; they had her almost undressed, with her full cooperation, and
were getting out of their own uniforms as all of them moved toward her
bedroom. "But if one of us can arrange to be her last for the night,
he can do what Ivan did last night. If he's the only one with her, and
doesn't let her move away, the results should be conclusive."
"A good indication, at least," Chang agreed. "And I will put a
sedative doser in the bedside table in the event the conclusion is not
what we currently believe."
Cortin didn't have time to wonder why none of her team were in the
group surrounding her; Illyanov's embrace and kiss had been quite
enough to start the ache in her belly, and the Inquisitors' caresses
had turned it into a burning need--one they seemed to sense and perhaps
share, because almost as soon as they got her to the huge bed, one of
them was sliding into her, his urgent thrustings sending her into a
spiral of sheer pleasure.
* * * * *
When she fell asleep, it was with Pritchett holding her, relaxed inside
her, murmuring that Ivan had said she liked sleeping that way. And he
was still there when she woke, a comfortable strong presence in spite
of the fact, since the two of them were alone, that she must have
overslept. He was smiling at her, and when she started to pull herself
reluctantly away, he held her gently but firmly where she was. She
started to object--her body was already reacting to him--but he
silenced her with a kiss. "It's okay, little fox," he said
affectionately. "Just relax, trust me. You'll be fine."
"But--"
"Just relax, I said." Pritchett kissed her again, rolling so she was
beneath him as she preferred. "Sis says your drive may very well be
self-regulating, and I'm the lucky one who gets to find out with you.
If not, she left a sedative." He paused, smiling. "It is something
you--and we--need to know." He began moving gently.
He was right, Cortin thought. They should all know her reactions--and
he felt far too good, growing and stiffening inside her, for her to
want him to leave. "Mmm," she agreed, yielding. Last night had been a
feast, she'd loved it and intended to repeat it whenever she had the
time and interested partners--but it would be nice if she could snack,
too, not have to gorge all the time.
"That's my little fox," Pritchett said indulgently. "Are you all
right?"
"I'm fine." He was at his full size now, solid and delightful, his
gentle movements arousing her more slowly than she'd have believed
possible after her recent experiences. "And you feel so good . . ."
"Slow and easy this time, hmm? I think so, too." Pritchett smiled,
kissing her, caressing her breasts. His little fox--their Joanie--was
something special, all right. Even if other women had shared her new
endowments, he didn't know of any who'd have been either willing or
able to delight a group of men the way she had two nights running. It
was too bad she didn't love her Enforcement partners the way they did
her--she must think they came to her only for the sex, which was
laughable. That you could get anywhere, with the right money. But she
was still willing--hell, eager!--to have them.
Their lovemaking was unhurried and thorough, different from any she'd
had since her surgery, but Cortin enjoyed it just as much. When they
were done, they bathed and dressed--to Cortin's amusement, Pritchett
had a complete set of clothing in her room; she'd have to make sure the
rest did, too--then they went to the common-room with Pritchett happily
carrying the still-full sedative injector.
The only one there was Powell, who smiled when he saw the injector.
"It went all right, then--great! The rest of us have all been to Mass
and had breakfast, and they're getting settled in. What do you want me
to do?"
Cortin didn't know enough about his conditioning to give a good answer,
so she said, "You tell me. You need debriefed by an expert, of course,
but since you joined us have you had any gear issued, or been paid, or
taken care of personal matters?" She saw a puzzled expression,
remembered, and added, "Oh, by the way--welcome to Team Azrael."
He looked dazed for a moment, then his expression cleared. "I was
working for you the whole time, then--thank you! About the other,
though--no, none of it."
"Um." She thought for a moment, then went to a phone and dialed
Bradford's number.
"Colonel Bradford's office, Corporal Callahan speaking, sir."
"This is Colonel Cortin. I'd like to speak with Colonel Bradford,
please, if he's available."
"Yes, ma'am--one moment, please."
Seconds later, Bradford was on the line. "What can I do for you,
Colonel?"
"I'm not sure. Does being the High King's Inquisitor let me borrow you
to debrief someone?"
"It lets you borrow anyone you need to do your job. Who do you need
debriefed, and how soon?"
"My new team member, Lieutenant Powell. As soon as you can, please."
"Half an hour soon enough?"
"That'd be fine, thanks. I've already gotten some useful information
from him, but I'm not good enough at the memory-enhancing techniques to
do a really thorough job."
"He's the one who told you about the raid on the Blue Sisters' convent?"
"Yes."
"I'll be over as soon as I can. I'm in charge of the task force
protecting them; I'll need all the good information I can get."
"I'll probably be saying Mass when you get here, then. You can talk to
him in our quarters if you want, or you're welcome to use my public
office on the main floor. Any idea how long it'll take?"
"That's hard to say exactly, but two hours is about average. And since
you haven't said Mass yet, I'd appreciate it if you wait till I get
there; I like to attend all my priests' services at least once."
"Of course." She couldn't refuse her Bishop, and since no one had
commented on her bearing during Mass, her absorption was either normal
or not noticeable, so it shouldn't be a problem. "Then this afternoon
I can have someone help Powell get the Service formalities straightened
out--payroll, uniforms, ID, all that sort of thing." She shook her
head, even though he couldn't see the gesture. "Things are going too
fast and working out too well, Brad. I'm living in luxury, doing
valuable work I enjoy, having an incredible sex life--I ought to be
overjoyed, but I'm not. It scares me."
Looked at from her point of view, Bradford could understand that. But
since he'd helped with much of the maneuvering that had gotten her into
the first two situations--that the third had worked out so well had
been by God's mercy, not human skill--he didn't share her apprehension.
But he also couldn't reveal any more of that maneuvering than she
already knew about, so he tried to reassure her instead. "I don't see
anything to worry about, Joan. Think back--everything that's happened
to you since the attack has been perfectly reasonable, given your
talent as an Inquisitor and Their Majesties' determination to put down
the terrorists. If you weren't High King's Inquisitor, someone else
would be--someone less talented. As for the speed, well," he let his
smile show in his voice, "from what I hear, you were the one in a hurry
to qualify as an Inquisitor and get to work--and I know you didn't
waste any time getting your team together."
"I can't argue that," Cortin said. She had pushed hard to learn, and
learned faster than she'd expected even with that amount of work.
"Motivation does work wonders--but it still bothers me."
"We'll talk about it more this afternoon, then, if you're not at a
point in an interrogation where you can't take a break for an hour or
so."
"I should be able to manage; the one I'm working on seemed to be coming
along nicely when I left him last night, and I doubt it'll take me more
than a couple of hours to finish him."
Bradford was both astonished and pleased. Except for Powell, he'd
chosen these subjects himself, as being particularly resistant. Either
he'd been wrong about one, or she had an even more accurate sense for
individual weaknesses than he'd realized. "I'd have expected at least
two days of concentrated effort for any one of them--what did you do?"
"Thought aloud for his benefit, then left him alone under a twelve-hour
dose of eroticine. Not very original, but effective."
"That's what counts." Bradford shook his head, glad she couldn't see
the chagrin on his face. "Sometimes simple methods are the most
effective." And the hardest to spot special vulnerability to, he
reminded himself. "I'll be at the chapel in about fifteen
minutes--talk to you more this afternoon."
"Right." Cortin hung up, turned to the two waiting. "He mentioned a
chapel--where is it?"
"On the main floor," Pritchett told her. "Dedicated to St. Eleanor, of
course."
The patron saint of Enforcement, yes, since there were no Inquisitor
saints. "Good--I'd hoped for a chapel, but I hadn't really expected
one."
"I'll show you where it is." Pritchett grinned. "I go to Mass every
day, when I can--glad I didn't miss it today."
"Can I go too?" Powell asked hesitantly. "I've been once, so I can't
take Communion, but . . ."
"Certainly!" Cortin exclaimed. "Whenever you want, as long as it
doesn't interfere with your duties. Shall we go, gentlemen?"
Not at all to her surprise, after seeing other parts of the Lodge,
Cortin found the chapel to be exquisitely--and expensively!--equipped
and decorated. She went into the vestry for some private meditation,
then put on her stole and went out to say Mass.
Bradford was struck by the change in her when she went to the altar and
began the preliminary prayers. She was still attractive, rather than
beautiful, but there was an aura about her now that made her seem as
beautiful as the ceremony itself. She was completely wrapped up in it,
obviously unaware of those in the chapel with her except for the little
time it took her to administer Communion. He couldn't be sure if she
even needed her Missal, or if her references to it were simply as part
of the ceremony; somehow, he believed it was the latter. He'd only
seen this sort of absorption twice before, he thought in awe. He'd
have to report it to his superior--and he'd definitely have to talk to
her later. After talking to Odeon!
* * * * *
As soon as Mass was over, Bradford took advantage of Cortin's offer to
borrow her main-floor office. He should have summoned Powell for
questioning, but what he'd just seen wouldn't let him; it was Odeon he
called for. And, as he'd half expected, Cortin's second in command was
trying to conceal something, his cold pale eyes revealing to the
Inquisitor what his impassive expression hid: he was afraid. Not for
himself, though; for Cortin?
Bradford gestured Odeon to join him in the informal seating area. When
he did, Bradford leaned forward. "Mike, I have no intention of doing
anything to hurt Joanie. But it's pretty clear you and Sis are hiding
something you've found out about her--something her Commanding Officer
and Bishop ought to know about."
Odeon was silent. Bradford had a point, but was it a strong enough one
to justify risking Joanie's life? No, he corrected himself, not her
life--her mission. Their lives. It was true that Bradford could be
helpful, as Bishop of the Strike Forces--but again, helpful enough to
justify the risk? Well, he'd been promised support, so there should be
a way to find out.
Bradford watched, initial puzzlement quickly turning to awe as Odeon's
eyes lost focus and he seemed to glow, despite the bright office
lighting. Yes, there was definitely something highly unusual happening
in and around Team Azrael!
When Odeon became aware of his surroundings again, he grinned. "You're
in, Colonel. What's going on is hard to believe, but you'll get help."
He sobered. "And you'll get help keeping it from all except the very
few with a need to know--plus one who has a need not to know."
"Something else we have to keep from her for her own good?"
"Hers and the entire Systems'," Odeon said. "It's why she attracts
people in spite of being an Inquisitor. Brad, she's the Herald and
acting Protector--and she doesn't know it, can't afford to know it
until we've gotten people ready to accept her changes. As long as she
doesn't know her identity and powers, Shayan can't use his against
her--in fact, he's afraid to use them at all, for fear of waking hers."
Bradford had gone pale. Hard as it was to believe, he couldn't
disbelieve. "But she'd win!"
"There's no guarantee of that," Odeon said grimly. "I think she
would--but the only limit I'm sure of on Shayan's power is his
inability to create life. Joan's limited herself to restrain him and
give us a chance." He grimaced. "That's how I understand it, anyway;
I could be misinterpreting what I was shown. But I'm positive we can't
afford to tell her who she really is. We've got to act normal as long
as she does--with a few exceptions."
"Normal." Bradford shuddered. "Around the one who's supposed to judge
us for eternity? Or, from what you said about being acting Protector,
maybe not make the final judgement?"
"I can't be sure myself," Odeon said. "I have the feeling that
anything she does in that capacity will be permanent, or there'd be no
reason for an acting one, but it is just a feeling." He paused. "And
acting normal around her's possible. Not easy, but possible, because
Sis and I are doing it--and essential." He quirked an eyebrow, smiled.
"Fun, too, at times. One thing she's doing is reclaiming the
jurisdiction over sex that Shayan claimed in the Garden. If you've got
any doubts on that score, just remember the shelter party."
Bradford did, his mind going back to her enthusiasm and the incredible
pleasure she'd given her men and her guests. "That is going to be one
of the hardest things to convince most people of," he said eventually.
"Is that going to be the Seal of Life God said the Protector would
bring?"
"No--though that's not a bad guess." Odeon told him about the
early-hours visit by the man in the white Enforcement uniform,
including himself and Sis drinking from the still-unconscious Cortin.
"From that and everything else I've seen," he concluded, "the New
Kingdom--for lack of my ability to imagine a better name--is going to
be a lot more enjoyable, as well as a lot more challenging."
"A lot more sensual, at any rate," Bradford said drily. "Do you think
that means all Her priests will be women?"
"I doubt it," Odeon said after a moment's thought "Even though
Jeshua's were all men until not long before the War, which would only
be fair. But we have a life fluid of our own, and knowing our Joanie,
she'll want it used both ways." He paused, then grinned. "And it
wouldn't surprise me if the normal arrangement was to celebrate this
Sealing with a priest of the opposite sex."
"Normal--but not necessary?"
"No, or Sis wouldn't have been able to take it from Joanie." Odeon
hesitated, then went on. "I wouldn't have been able to tell you all
this unless it was highly probable you'd want to be on her team if you
knew. If that's right and you do, either Sis or I can Seal you to her;
if not, you'll have to wait till she goes public."
"I do," Bradford said without hesitation. "From you, since I agree
that there's no time to waste."
"Good." Odeon rose as Bradford knelt in front of him. "Drink, then,
the Seed of Life."
Bradford was hesitant at first, taking only what welled out--and that
was enough for the union to form. Odeon felt the hesitancy dissolve,
felt Bradford's awed pleasure as God's Presence filled and cleansed
him, shared his fear that it would end--and then his joyous realization
that it wouldn't, that he'd been accepted and was wholly God's now.
When it was over, Bradford shook his head, looking dazed. "I had no
idea . . . and Mike, I don't feel like conducting even a Stage One
after that. I need to come down, if you don't mind."
"Me too," Odeon said. "The repetitions, or whatever they end up being
called, won't be that prolonged or intense, of course, but I'm
beginning to think the Sealing itself always will be. And that we'll
have to allow for a wind-down period--most likely sexual, the way I
felt and felt you feel. Though Sis and I didn't, until after Joanie
was on her feet."
"Of course not," Bradford said. "I'd like sex--but what I need is
talk. To help Joanie effectively, I've got to know exactly what she
and we are trying to accomplish, and--if possible--why." He found a
chair without looking, settled into it. When Odeon had followed suit,
he went on. "Since you and Sis were chosen directly by Jeshua, you two
are the obvious leaders of our group. If she's around, maybe she
should join us."
"If she's awake, you mean," Odeon corrected, grinning. "When I saw her
last night, she and Ivan were heading for her room, looking like they
intended to make a night of it."
Bradford looked at him quizzically, then echoed the grin. "And a
disciple of him, I'd be willing to bet."
"A bet you would win, Colonel." Chang stood just inside the door, her
arm around the St. Dmitri Inquisitor's waist. "He, and the rest of
Team Azrael--including Lieutenant Powell. Pardon the intrusion, but I
felt we would be needed, and no one answered when we knocked." She
smiled at Bradford. "It is good to have you in our group, Colonel."
"Thanks--I'm happy I could be. And we are off duty." Bradford
gestured the newcomers to seats. "At least off Enforcement duty, and
you and Mike outrank the rest of us in this field."
"As we heard you tell him, yes." Chang and Illyanov took seats.
"However, it is we four, not two, who are her primary staff. Your
responsibility will be liaison with the Church. Mike and I must guide
her into her temporary role. Ivan is to show her that her dual role of
judge and exalter is complementary rather than contradictory."
"That's going to be hardest, I think," Bradford said. "I know who she
is, and I still have trouble with the Lifegiver as an Inquisitor."
Illyanov smiled. "Did your parents never punish you, then?"
"Yes, and I get the connection--punishment, and hopefully correction
before it's too late to change. But the scale is so different!"
"And right now she's more interested in the punishment part than the
correction one," Odeon said. "That's not surprising--but helping her
change that emphasis has to be Sis' and my first priority."
"That will not keep her from carrying out her punishment and execution
duties, will it?" Illyanov asked.
"How could it?" Chang countered. "She is Judge as well as
Guardian--and even if it were not so, she could not deliberately fail
to perform any legal duty she is sworn to. Even with her knowledge of
her destiny deliberately hidden, she is Protector if only for a time,
as well as being the true one's Herald, and therefore incapable of sin."
"Which doesn't mean she can't make mistakes," Odeon added. "Being
human, she can--both has, and will."
Bradford frowned. "Any idea when she'll realize who she is?"
"Nothing firm, but logic says not until she has to--maybe as late as
when she confronts Shannon, or the real Protector surfaces."
"Which gives us time to discuss this more later," Bradford said,
glancing at the wall clock. "I did promise Joanie I'd question Powell
for her, and . . ." He hesitated, then went on. "I . . . now that I
know who she is, I feel I have to watch her work."
"Understandable." Odeon nodded, then gave the Bishop-Inquisitor a
half-smile. "Does questioning Chuck have to be formal, or can you
enjoy yourselves in the process?"
"Hmm?" Bradford frowned in puzzlement, then smiled. "Since he's
already agreed to cooperate, I don't see any need for a formal
interrogation. Why?"
"Let's go up to the common-room, and I'll show you."
When they got there, Powell was sprawled comfortably in front of the
record player, listening to Melnyikov's "Musical Explorations" and
caressing himself. Odeon grinned, at last able to fully appreciate the
composer, and tempted to follow Powell's example. Melnyikov's previous
works had hinted at eroticism; this one embraced and celebrated it.
That made it a popular piece with Enforcement and much of the nobility,
frowned on by the Church and most landfolk. Rumor had it that
Melnyikov had used biological research--or Shayan's aid--to make
"Explorations" so effective; after what he'd learned recently, Odeon
suspected a different source. He glanced at Bradford, saw a
speculative look, and raised a curious eyebrow.
"You were right to suggest an informal session," Bradford said
appreciatively. "I'd almost forgotten his training--I'll probably get
better results this way than by the more conventional methods."
"No doubt enjoying yourself in the process," Illyanov said.
"No doubt at all," Bradford agreed, removing his tunic and undershirt.
"You're welcome to stay and participate, of course, either with him or
setting an example."
"He is strongly attracted to Michael," Illyanov pointed out, "so if the
two of you concentrate on him--"
"Ivan and I will set the example," Chang finished.