Marriage

: MAIN STORY
: The Alembic Plot

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 relationship--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 God 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 God 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 God 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 God, she didn't believe she could be called truly devout.

Or, much as she enjoyed the exaltation of saying Mass, 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 shivered. "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 God

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 embarrassing--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 sexual

. . . 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 God. "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 sexual, 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.



"I like it, very much," Cortin said. "It feels right--a simple altar,

no fancy vestments--" She looked at herself, then at him, and smiled.

"None at all, in fact. Is this how He wants it, do you think? An

intimate kind of worship, maybe just family and close friends, with the

senior spouses as celebrants?"



"Sounds reasonable to me," Odeon said. It was an odd feeling, having

her ask his opinion on the proper way to worship the Protector; after

all, if it felt right to her, acting in that capacity, who was he to

say otherwise?



"To me, also."



Cortin turned, not really surprised to see Sis and the rest of those

who'd been at the airborne conference. Under normal conditions she

would have been astonished, and probably suspicious as well--but these

were hardly normal conditions, with Shayan on the loose, the Protector

manifesting to Mike and Sis, and herself having visions. It was

normality, now, that would have surprised her. "You and Mike will

celebrate it for us?"



"And each other, yes." The nun smiled. "Neither altar nor ceremonial

is truly necessary for the Sealing or its celebration, but since we

expect both, they add to the pleasure. Unfortunately we have not yet

devised a ceremony, so we will have to content ourselves with informal

prayers." She approached the altar, embracing Odeon as Cortin and the

rest knelt.



As she'd said, the prayers were brief and informal, praising God in His

Aspect of the Protector, asking His blessings on those who were worthy

of and wanted Sealing but couldn't be given it until the Protector came

into the open, offering the milk and bread on the altar in their behalf

until they could partake of the true Milk or Seed of Life.



That reference puzzled Cortin, until the two celebrants asked that God

make use of them to do the Protector's work, and were accepted.

Something seemed to twist inside her, then she felt the exaltation of

Consecration taking hold and she was praying for the new salvation the

celebrants offered, not just from the effects of sin but from sin

itself. As at Mass, the celebrants took the new Communion first,

drinking from each other. The physical actions were little different

from some of the things that went on at a shelter party--but the

feeling wasn't sexual, it was like her dream of both of them feeding

from her: reverent joy.



Then the celebrants were finished, inviting those who hadn't yet

partaken and wished to place themselves under the Protector's care to

come forward. Almost as if Odeon were pulling her, Cortin approached

him and knelt. Except that it was Mike only in form; he had become

God, in the same way bread and wine became God at the Consecration

during Mass. "I surrender myself to Thee," she said. "I ask for Thy

protection and guidance, that I might serve Thee to the best of my

ability."



"They are thine, Daughter." Hands on her head guided her to the

whiteness welling from him. "Drink thy fill of the Seed of Life, that

thou mayst be Sealed to thy Protector."



Cortin obeyed. The droplets were sweet, not the slightly bitter taste

she remembered. Taste was minor, though, next to the exaltation that

washed through her. His thick sweet fluid was a generous feast,

filling her with His love and life. It was forever and no time at all

that she finished, reveling in His glorious bounty so freely given.



When He raised her to her feet, the exaltation faded as it did after

Communion--not completely, but to a far lesser intensity. She stepped

back; Princess Ursula took her place, while the Prince went to Chang.



It was beautiful, Cortin thought, in large part because it was real

rather than hidden by symbols. She didn't object to such concealment

in its proper place, such as the Mass--letting flesh and blood appear

to be bread and wine was easier on celebrant and communicants both!

Milk and seed, though, could be given not only without pain but with

obvious pleasure; Mike and Sis were both positively radiant. Some

people, she knew, would think this obscene, be uncomfortable or worse

at taking such nourishment directly from its source instead of from

chalice or plate. She knew, but she didn't understand. Breasts were

made to give milk, testes to give seed; given and taken in the

Protector's Holy Name, how could it be other than beautiful?



The royal couple was done; they returned to kneel with Cortin. The

Princess was the last woman in the group, so Odeon waited, relaxed,

while Chang fed the rest. Her last communicant was Pritchett--and

unlike the others, he had a visible response when he drank.



Cortin found that a good sign, as well as being enjoyable to watch.

Chang very much wanted a baby, preferably Pritchett's, though that

would take a miracle. It'd be an even better sign to those who hadn't

been here if they were granted one today; it'd have to be seen as an

obvious indication that this was God's Will. Chang stroked him briefly

when he raised his head, then she turned to Odeon and they faced the

group for a final prayer.







For Shannon/Shayan's reaction: 16a. Shayan



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