Marriage
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MAIN STORY
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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
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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