Chuck
:
MAIN STORY
:
The Alembic Plot
Nobody had thought to brief them on the welcoming ceremonies at the
airport, but Bradford had mentioned her team acting as bodyguards, so
when it was their turn to leave the plane, Odeon took point and the
other four formed a square around Cortin. That might or might not have
been the right thing to do, but it was effective; as a member of the
King's Household, she got some press attention--as the High King's
In
uisitor, surrounded by Special Operations officers, that attention
was both brief and extremely respectful.
Once they got through that, Cortin and her team boarded a passenger van
with "Harmony Lodge" emblazoned on the side for the brief trip to their
new home. The Lodge was more impressive than Cortin had expected,
though she'd gathered from Bradford that it was adequate for a larger
team than hers. It was close to the Palace Compound, not a kilometer
from the Palace itself, but the way it had been landscaped, it could
have been far from anything: thick hedges and a formal garden made it a
private place. The building itself was huge, and looked more like a
medieval castle than the simple, probably rustic building she'd
expected from something called a lodge. She wondered with some
amusement if it had a dungeon; that was, after all, the classical place
for interrogations in a castle.
The van dropped them off at the main door, then headed toward the rear
of the building. As they approached, the door swung open to reveal an
elderly man in black-and-scarlet livery, who bowed to them. "Welcome
home, Colonel--gentles. I am Michael Brady, Your Excellency's butler
and head of Harmony Lodge's staff." He gestured them inside. "May I
show you around, or would you prefer to rest until supper?"
"Thank you, Mr. Brady," Cortin said. "I'd like to see the place,
especially my work areas. My men may make their own choices."
Odeon and Chang chose to join her, the others decided to rest. Brady
called servants to show them to their rooms, then said, "Your
Excellency has not had servants before?"
"No . . . it shows?"
"It does. Servants are addressed and referred to by first name, not by
an honorific and last name."
Cortin didn't like that; if she used first names with a person, she
expected to be referred to that way herself. Still, she didn't like to
defy custom in public, and while the servants might work for her, they
weren't part of her team. She inclined her head in agreement. "As you
say, then, Matthew. My apologies if I offended."
"No offense, Excellency. You wished to see your work area first?"
"Please--and brief me on the rest of the place as we go, if you would."
"Of course," Brady said. "If you will follow me?" He led them through
a doorway to the left of the broad, sweeping entrance stairs. "The
entertainment areas and public offices are here, on the main floor;
living quarters are on the upper floors--private bedrooms and baths,
common eating and recreational facilities, including an excellent
library; and the work area is below ground. Servants' quarters are in
a building behind this one."
"Sounds nice," Cortin said appreciatively. "I do have an honest-to-God
dungeon, then?"
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"I'm new to Royal circles, Matthew--is it usual for members of His
Majesty's Household to have households of their own?"
"No, Excellency." Brady paused, looking uncomfortable. "With all due
respect to the Inquisitor-Colonel, she is the only one whose position
makes it desirable. The rest live in the Palace itself."
Cortin had gotten used to an Inquisitor's normal isolation, but she
hadn't expected it to be this extreme. It was fine with her, though;
she'd rather have her own place. "I gather I won't be expected to do
much entertaining or go to many parties, then."
"No, Excellency, though you will of course receive all the usual
invitations. The only functions you will actually be expected to
appear at will be ones hosted by His Majesty, and you are free to miss
those if you are in the midst of an interrogation. He has instructed
me to inform you that your work is to take priority over anything else,
and that you are to contact him personally at any time if you believe
you have obtained valuable information."
"I'm not to report to him, then?" Cortin was both relieved and a
little disappointed at that.
"Not immediately, Excellency; as I said, your work is to take priority,
and there are four prisoners in the holding cells awaiting the
attentions of the High King's Inquisitor."
Cortin smiled, changing her plans for the evening's entertainment. "In
that case, I'll pass on the rest of the tour for now. Captain Odeon,
would you do me a favor?"
Odeon nodded, grinning. "Call Major Illyanov and tell him no guests
tonight, right?"
"Right, then join me downstairs." She thought for a moment, then asked
Brady, "What shape are they in?"
"Untouched, to the best of my knowledge, Excellency."
Four, and none softened up. Cortin nodded to herself, pleased, then
asked, "What's the setup like down there? Colonel Bradford said one
state-of-the-art suite, other conventional ones."
"Yes, Excellency. There are five complete interrogation suites, though
only Suite Alpha--yours, of course--has the highly sophisticated
equipment."
"Thank you." Cortin turned to Chang. "Lieutenant, would you ask
Lieutenant Bain to join me after supper?" When she agreed, Cortin
turned back to Brady. "Let's go."
Someone with a sense of humor she appreciated had posted signs in the
prisoners' passage showing the way to the dungeon, and one over its
door quoting the ancient poet Dante: "Abandon hope, all ye who enter
here." They stopped there, and Bradford gave her a set of keys. "My
responsibilities end at this door, Your Excellency. Enforcement
Service personnel from the Detention Center are responsible for caring
for the prisoners and cleaning up after you; the first is done at
midday, and they are on call for the other. Now that you have assumed
your duties, no one else will enter except by your order or with your
permission."
"What about record films of the interrogations?"
"That is handled by the Palace security monitors, Excellency."
"Fine. What about spare keys?"
"There is a set for the Enforcement personnel I mentioned."
"We'll need three more, then. One each for Captain Odeon and
Lieutenant Bain, and one for anyone else in the team."
"I will see to it. By Your Excellency's leave?"
"Granted."
The keys were marked; Cortin had no trouble finding the one for the
main entrance, or for the cellblock. She'd wait for Mike before taking
any of them to the suite, but she could make a preliminary evaluation
and pick her first subject.
The block held twenty cells, four of them, as Brady had said, flagged
as having occupants. She didn't get beyond the second one, though.
Its occupant startled her at first--she hadn't thought of him since
leaving New Denver months ago--then she chuckled and turned on the
cell's speaker. "Powell--I would've thought you, of all people,
would've avoided Enforcement troopers."
Startled, the young man stared at the one-way glass in the door. "Uh
. . . Captain Cortin?"
"Colonel, now--but it's me, yes. What're you doing in custody again,
much less at Harmony Lodge?"
Powell managed a tentative smile. "Congratulations, Colonel." Then it
faded, and his shoulders slumped. "You won't believe me--they didn't,
at the Center, so they sent me here for the High King's Inquisitor."
To Cortin's astonishment, she saw the beginnings of hope in his face,
and his eyes brightened. "That's not-- You're not--?"
"It is, and I am."
"Oh, thank God! They said the King's Inquisitor would have
truthsense--please, let me talk to you!"
Cortin hesitated. He certainly sounded sincere enough, but he'd been
conditioned once; possibly he had been re-conditioned, this time to
kill whoever turned out to be King's Inquisitor. On the other hand,
that Brother had said Shannon had put her off limits, and Powell had
submitted to her will once; he'd do so again easily. So she was
unlocking the cell door when Odeon arrived.
"Find a promising one?" he asked.
"I'd say so--one who wants to talk to me, at least." Cortin opened the
cell's door, beckoned its occupant out. "You remember our young
friend?"
"Of course! What's he doing here?"
"That's what he wants to talk about. Shall we go to my suite?"
"Just a second, please?" The young man was looking at her with
adoration so open it was almost embarrassing, and Cortin wondered where
that had come from. "I haven't seen Captain Odeon in ages . . ."
"I don't mind if he doesn't." Cortin watched them embrace, one hand
close to her pistol, but it seemed that all Powell wanted was a kiss.
At least that much of his conditioning held, she thought. When they
broke, she repeated, "Shall we go to my suite?"
This time they made it. Suite Alpha's office was simple, but
comfortably appointed, designed to give the subject a feeling of
relaxation and trust. Cortin took her place in a grouping of furniture
intended to help the subject feel more at ease that the normal
desk-centered version of first stage, and gestured the other two to
adjoining seats. "Now, Charles, what is it you don't think I'll
believe?"
"That--" The young man gulped, tried again. "That I . . . had to come
back. The Brothers . . . some of the older ones had me, the ways
Captain Odeon and the others helped me find out I liked, but it . . .
with them, it wasn't right, and I finally figured out that was because
Captain Odeon and the others also helped me realize the Brotherhood
itself was wrong. Especially to hate you, when you're the one who let
them help me." He gestured, helplessly. "So I had to go back to the
Center, and find you, and . . . offer to help you any way I could, in
return for the help you gave me."
Her truthsense told her he was being absolutely honest. "Did you tell
the Brothers how you felt?"
"No, ma'am--that didn't seem like a very good idea. I let troopers see
me, but they didn't do anything--maybe because you'd had me released.
Anyway, I didn't manage to get arrested until I hit one of them--and
then no one'd believe I'd done it to get arrested! And that's how I
ended up here."
So Mike and the Inquisitors had modified the conditioning she'd set up,
had they? Powell was supposed to be terrified of her, if not of
them--justifiably so, she admitted to herself--but he was grateful
instead, enough so that he'd risked his life to get back. He could
easily have been shot for attacking a trooper, not simply gotten
arrested. As it turned out, their modification should prove more
useful than her simple revenge, so she couldn't get too upset with
them--but she would definitely have to find out how it had been done!
"That's good, then. What help do you think you can give me?"
"To start with, I overheard them planning a raid. I don't think it's
the big one--nobody down at my level is supposed know anything about
that, except that it's going to happen--but maybe it'll help? Even
though I didn't hear much?"
Cortin leaned forward, not trying to hide her interest. "It will,
Charles. Tell me about it."
Powell frowned. "It's supposed to be on the main convent of the Blue
Sisters--you know the one, just south of Carthage Mountain?"
"I don't, but I can find someone who does. Go on."
"It's supposed to be on their main feast day--that'd be the
Annunciation, the 25th. But they're afraid the Service'll find out
somehow, so if you post troops--even watchers--they won't show."
Cortin scowled. The Blue Sisters--formally, the Order of Succor of the
Compassionate Mother, Piety's order--were dedicated to caring for the
seriously ill or wounded, especially Service troopers. So perhaps they
were a natural target--and they definitely needed protection. "The
most important part is keeping the Sisters and their patients safe,
even if it means the Brothers escaping. I personally hope that can be
done without alerting them, but--" she shrugged, "once I pass the
information along, I'm out of it unless they pick up some prisoners.
Do you know if one of the Shannons will be involved?"
"I'm afraid not--that I don't know, I mean. But I'd think one would;
it's the kind the Raidmaster would want to lead, either in person or by
proxy."
"Good enough; I'll report it as a possible, then." She smiled at the
young man. "I'm afraid I'm not as good at this type of questioning as
I should be, Charles; I'd like to call in a friend for it. Will you
talk to him as well as you have been to me?"
"Of course, if that's what you want."
"Good." Cortin went to her desk and picked up the black phone, asked
Brady to come escort a guest, then turned her attention back to Powell.
"You've been a lot of help already, Charles, and I'm sure you'll be a
lot more--but have you given any thought to what you'll do when you've
given us all the information you have?"
The young man shrugged. "A little, but it depended on someone
believing me. Like I said, I'd like to go to work for you, if I could."
Cortin nodded; she'd definitely be questioning Mike next! "Think about
it some more, talk to my men--then if you're sure that's really what
you want, I'll see what I can do. For now, go with Matthew; he should
be at the main door shortly."
When Powell left, Cortin turned to Odeon. "All right, Mike, give!
Last time I saw him, I revolted and terrified him--now he's like a
puppy eager for my approval, and I swear he has a crush on you. Why
and how?"
To her astonishment, Odeon looked abashed. "Uh . . . Ivan had an
experimental drug he wanted to try, just to see how thorough a
conditioning was possible and how much trouble it'd be. Well, you'd
already set up a program for our young friend, so Ivan figured he might
as well work on him. He outranks us--outranked you, then--so we went
along."
Cortin nodded; they'd had no choice, and Ivan had been polite enough
not to tell her he'd modified her intentions. "It looks like the
conditioning was complete, all right--but how permanent?"
"Till he dies, Ivan says, or till he's put through the same type of
conditioning again, which Ivan doesn't think is possible anywhere
outside a Detention Center. So if you take him on, it'll be for good."
"I don't see that you left me any choice," Cortin said with resigned
amusement. "Kicking him out with conditioning like that would be like
. . . kicking a puppy, I suppose. Though I have no idea what I'll be
able to do with him!" She paused, frowning. Joining the Brotherhood of
Freedom, or any other terrorist group, meant automatic excommunication,
and she didn't care to make her people associate with an excommunicate.
"I don't suppose you also saw to his spiritual welfare, by any chance?"
"Of course we did, and not by chance," Odeon said. "Better than that,
though we blocked the memory in case you turned him down. Uh--"
"Don't tell me," Cortin said, half-grinning. "You enlisted him and put
him on the team."
"Close," Odeon said. "Commissioned him, since you wanted all officers.
He doesn't meet the normal Strike Force criteria, but Colonel Bradford
waivered them in his case. He's a good rider and a damn good marksman,
but otherwise his main qualification is absolute dedication to his
Team-Leader. I wouldn't call him a puppy, young as he is; I'd call him
a guard dog. The cue to make him 'remember' he's been an agent of
yours is you welcoming him to Team Azrael."
"I'll do that next time I see him." Cortin sighed. "Pritchett saying
last night that he's in love with me, Powell conditioned into
devotion--what next? No, don't answer that; I don't think I want to
know." She paused, then changed the subject. "So Ivan's experiment
was successful--but how useful will it be?"
"Practically, very little or none. It worked, yes, but the drug's
expensive and scarce, and the procedures take too many people too long,
to be worth using in normal circumstances. It may be done again, but
it'll have to be a pretty special case."
"Too bad; I can see where it could've been useful." Cortin dismissed
the subject with that, hesitated, then picked up the red phone that
almost had to link her interrogation suite directly with the Palace.
According to Brady, His Majesty wanted any significant results she got,
as soon as she got them. The phone rang once, then a half-familiar
voice said, "Yes, Colonel?"
It was a direct link, then. "His Majesty wanted immediate reports,"
Cortin said. "Are you authorized to take them?"
"Anyone who answers this phone is so authorized, Colonel. Go ahead;
your report is being recorded."
"Good." Cortin gave a concise but complete report of what she'd gotten
from Powell, pleased at the quick response. Too bad not everything in
the Kingdom went this smoothly!
"Excellent," the voice said when she was done. "I had, of course,
hoped for quick and substantial results from you, but this exceeds my
expectations. Good work, Colonel."
Cortin swallowed hard, finally placing the half-familiar voice. Of
course he was authorized to answer his own phone! "Th . . . thank you,
Your Majesty. This was an easy one."
"Easy or not, it was effective. Keep up the good work, Colonel; we
have to crush these terrorists, especially the Brothers of Freedom."
"Of course, Your Majesty--I'll do my best."
"I would expect no less, Colonel." The line went dead.
Cortin stared at the handpiece for several seconds before replacing it
carefully in the cradle. It was hard to believe she'd just spoken to
High King Mark--but she knew his voice, she had to believe. "I'll get
you more, Sire," she said unneccessarily, then she stood. "Okay,
Mike--I suppose we ought to get supper, then I'm going to start another
subject." She grinned. "I really shouldn't say this, but even though
he gave me some good information, Charles wasn't much fun, and I
promised myself some entertainment tonight. If you and one of the
others will help me set the next one up, I'll play with him awhile,
then if he's being stubborn, we'll get serious in the morning."