Surgery
: MAIN STORY: The Alembic Plot
Shannon fumed in helpless anger. The first direct attack on Cortin's
new team--one he admitted to himself shouldn't have been made, but that
he'd found irresistible--had been a total disaster. The troopers had
been outnumbered more than two to one, yet they had still routed his
men, as far as he knew taking no casualties while claiming eight kills.
Worse, he'd had to let one of his own go before death. It was always
it was humiliating as well.
Worse, though, was his near-certainty of why Cortin and her people
would be taking another of his to a remote security area, when that one
was a near-perfect medical match. Restoring Cortin's sexual function,
and the use she would make of it, would cause severe and possibly
critical damage to the use he had been making--and intended to continue
making, if she didn't reclaim it--of human sexuality. Especially the
new virus-enhanced version, which offered such delicious possibilities
if properly redirected and emotionally loaded.
Was there anything he could do to prevent it? Degas, a former
Brother--though unfortunately too young then to be properly sworn to
him--was on Cortin's team. It was possible he could be blackmailed
into cooperating . . . though that would mean using his power, since
security at a Royal retreat was so tight. Cortin would have to be
sedated for the surgery, maybe for part of her recovery time as well,
and it should be safe enough to use them while she was drugged. If he
only knew when she'd be under!
But without that knowledge, he decided regretfully, it would be wiser
to refrain. The Adversary had pointed out that timing was crucial; he
simply dared not take the risk of rousing Cortin's power too early.
* * * * *
Friday, 28 Feb 2572
Odeon was sitting beside the heavily sedated Cortin, stroking the hand
without tubes, when Bradford entered the shelter. He started to rise,
but settled back at Bradford's gesture. "Yes, Colonel?"
"Brad, please." Bradford looked at the woman for some time, then he
turned his attention back to the scar-faced man who was her second in
command. "You've known and loved her for years, Mike. So will you
please tell me why in God's name the most talented Inquisitor I've ever
seen won't take a nice, safe, productive assignment at the New Denver
Detention Center where the most difficult cases can be referred to her?"
"I thought you wanted her in the field!" Odeon exclaimed.
"Dear God, no! If I had my way, she'd be at the Center with all the
medical and professional support I could provide, not out in the field
getting shot at, torturing herself by making her back trouble worse,
and wasting her talents on criminals a second-semester student could
handle. If I try to keep her there, though, I'm afraid I'll lose
her--she's never said it in so many words, but if I read her right,
she'd go rogue rather than give up her hunt for the Shannons."
"I think so too," Odeon said. "She wants revenge, and I can't blame
her. So I'll help her, and protect her as well as I can . . . and so
will the rest of Team Azrael."
"And any other Enforcement man who's been around her for long,"
Bradford said drily. "Interrogation isn't her only talent, I've
discovered. She doesn't know about it, I found when I debriefed her--I
can't help wondering if you've noticed."
"Noticed what?" Odeon asked, puzzled.
"How people, men especially, react to her."
Odeon chuckled. "That? That's easy! She's an Enforcement officer, so
civs are apprehensive about her--more than they are of us, but until
Sis came aboard she was the only woman officer. And our people like
her, probably for the same reason."
"Your observations are accurate, of course--I'd expect that, from a
Tracker. But not completely so, since I have yet to find an
Enforcement trooper, officer or enlisted, who's been around her for
more than a short time and only likes her. To the best of my research,
any trooper who's spent as little as ten or fifteen minutes with her
has fallen in love. I used to believe it was because of sex--you know
how generous she was with herself--but since her maiming, I found that
theory was wrong." He grimaced. "The effect isn't even conscious,
much less deliberate. When I went in to debrief her, I thought it
would be routine, and that I was braced against anything she might try.
But she didn't, and I wasn't--by the time I left, I was in love with
her, and so was every man on my team. I can't claim I don't feel any
sexual attraction for her, because I most definitely do, even though
I'm a happily married man with a child. But my primary feeling for her
is protectiveness, and I understand that's how the rest feel.
Including," he grimaced again, "Major Illyanov, the entire
Inquisitorial staff of the Detention Center, one clerk-private, and the
proprietor of the Eagle's Nest. Probably others as well."
"Mmm . . . that fits." Odeon hadn't thought about it that way, but now
that Bradford had pointed it out, it did fit. The team's degree of
protectiveness toward their commanding officer and their concern with
how she came through the operation were both unusually strong; it was
good to have an explanation. Especially one that also explained
Bradford's presence--and Illyanov's, since he wouldn't normally be a
member of a Royal party. "I hadn't realized, but you're right. So
what do we do about it?"
"Damned if I know," Bradford said. "There's probably nothing that can
be done, since she's not doing it either deliberately or knowingly. I
mentioned it to you primarily because you're her second and need to be
aware of that effect. It could be useful--at least if a young civ
falls in love with her, you'll know to send him to a recruiter!"
Odeon chuckled. "True--too bad all recruiters don't have a method that
effective. It would've saved me a lot of time, when I had that duty."
"It would save the Service a lot of time, too, getting rid of ones who
don't work out," Bradford agreed. "If she weren't such an incredibly
talented Inquisitor, I'd want her on that duty--though she'd have to
have a partner who could tell when it happened, because as I said, she
doesn't know she's doing it."
Odeon frowned. "Do we want her to know? I don't like keeping things
from her, but offhand I'd say she's better off thinking it's normal
comradeship, with her back trouble as an explanation for any help or
protection out of the ordinary."
"Which is what I was working around to asking you," Bradford said. "If
you think that's best, we'll keep it between the two of us."
"Us and the team," Odeon corrected, "so they don't mention it by
mistake. No one else is likely to say they love an Inquisitor, even if
it's true. I know I'd never dare."
"Did you tell her before she got her Warrant?"
"No--she never seemed to want that kind of tie, so I didn't burden her
with it." Odeon frowned briefly, then smiled. "Fortunately for
me--and the rest of us, I guess--she doesn't need that to make love to
us."
"I've heard," Bradford said appreciatively. "As well for you--us, if
she's willing to go outside her team--that she doesn't put a daily
limit on herself."
"She's never restricted herself to a given team, either," Odeon said.
"Only to Enforcement men. I'm sure she'd be willing to accommodate you
and Major--I mean, Ivan."
"Good!" Bradford smiled. "Both our wives understand and accept the
dispensation, of course, and so does Ivan's mistress, if that matters
to her."
"I don't know if it does or not," Odeon admitted, surprised at himself.
"She's never mentioned it to me, or to anyone else I know of. If I
thought about it at all, I guess I assumed she assumed any wives or
girlfriends did accept it."
"Okay. Sis expects her to wake up tomorrow?"
"Late afternoon or early evening, yes."
More
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