6. Tony
St. Thomas, August 2571-February 2572
During the first week after Team Azrael reported to Middletown, Cortingot her men assigned quarters and the personal vehicles they wereauthorized, then made arrangements for them to have unlimited access tothe Elysian Gardens, the city's most exclusive--and equallyexpensive--joy-house. The proprietor was reluctant--her ladies wereaccustomed to New Pennsylvania's nobles and gentry, not commontroopers--until Cortin, with considerable hidden amusement, paidgenerously in advance, and promised bonuses if her men were pleased.
She also offered the Base Commander her services as priest andInquisitor. He preferred to retain the base's civilian chaplain, butdid accept her other offer, promising her all the work she could want.With that done, Cortin discovered that time went by very slowly whenyou were part of a group that had to conceal its mission, yet remainindependent and assert special privileges.
Her work helped ease the boredom for her, and she took advantage ofsome of her spare time to ease more by practicing her driving. She'dnever been in a car before her trip to the Academy, hadn't driven oneuntil Strike Force training. It had been frightening at first, butshe'd come to like it, and Odeon encouraged her. Since she no longerhad the consolations of sex, he said, she really ought to make full useof what she could enjoy--and after all, a tank of gasoline wasn't muchmore expensive than an evening at the Elysian Gardens.
She was pleased when, midway through the second week, Degas asked tojoin her on one of her after-work drives. She'd known from their firstmeeting that something was bothering him; it was about time he gotwhatever it was out of his system. He was silent as she drove themthrough town and past the Ducal Palace, but when they got to opencountry, he asked her to pull over. She did so as soon as she found ashady spot, and turned to him. "What is it, Tony?"
Silently, slowly, he drew his pistol and held it to her, butt-first."You may want to use this."
Cortin accepted it, stunned. "In God's Most Holy Name, Tony! Why?"
"Something I've kept from everyone except the priest I confessed to."Haunted eyes looked at her from that beautiful face. "I--Captain, foralmost a year I was a Brother of Freedom."
Cortin's finger tightened reflexively on the trigger, but somehow shemanaged not to fire. "Why, Lieutenant?" she asked coldly. "And whytell me, now?"
"My confessor said that when I found the person I really wanted tofollow, I'd have to tell, and accept her judgement."
"Go on."
"I was a kid, idealistic--I believed in what they said they stood for.I still do, but what they say doesn't come anywhere close to what theyreally stand for."
Cortin nodded, relaxing slightly. "I've never faulted the ideals theyclaim, or their courage--just their methods and their real morals."
"I was slow--it took me a while to realize the two didn't match. OnceI did, and let people know I was sorry I'd joined, my superiorsarranged for me to meet Shannon, and that told me I had to get out."Degas paused, looking sick. "He's an attractive man, handsomeand--from the effect he had on the people I was with--damn nearirresistible. I don't know how I was able to resist, but I've thankedGod every day since that I was." He shuddered. "Shannon's evil,Captain! There's no other word to describe him. He may not be Shayanhimself, like Sis thinks--though I tend to agree with her--but if he'snot, he's not far off. A demon, or possessed by one. Most of theBrothers, I think, are just deluded--but Shannon's evil, and as long asthey're under his spell, they'll act that way too."
"Did you commit any crimes while you were a Brother?"
Degas shook his head. "Not for lack of trying, I'm afraid. As I said,I was a kid; I wanted to do everything I could. But my superiorswouldn't let me, until I was older and knew more. So the only thing Iwas guilty of was joining, which I've been forgiven for--and I thinkI've paid any criminal debt I owed. I became a trooper because I was aBrother."
A trooper with a good Academy record, fifteen of his twenty-one activeduty years in Special Ops--critically wounded several times, but livingthat long at all in Special Ops qualified as a real miracle--withnumerous operations to his credit that he'd refused well-deservedawards for, as he'd refused promotion beyond the one to FirstLieutenant he'd had to accept to remain in service. She'd wonderedabout those refusals, but Odeon had said he'd claimed personal reasons.Now that she knew, she respected him for it; that was his way ofatoning. "You've decided to follow me, so your confessor said you haveto accept my judgement--and he knew you'd decide to follow a woman.That sounds peculiar--did he give you any reason?"
"Not exactly, ma'am. He just told me he knew, with absolute certainty,that if I lived long enough I'd find the one I needed."
"Um." That statement made Cortin uncomfortable; she didn't like theidea of something being predetermined, the way Tony made this sound.Still, it had been his choice to join Team Azrael. "Why did you chooseme?"
Degas frowned. "I'm . . . not positive. Your record, of course, andyou've got the same sort of odd attraction Shannon does--except thatwith him it's lethal, evil, and with you it's . . . I don't have thewords. 'Good' sounds soft, and that it certainly isn't . . . maybe'creative'? And definitely not evil; after Shannon, I can feel evil."He looked at her, his gaze steady. "Following you feels right, ifyou'll still let me."
Membership in a terrorist organization normally carried sentences ofexcommunication and death, but there were, on rare occasions,mitigating circumstances. Degas had been young, that sin had beenforgiven, and he'd done more than enough to help the Kingdom to repayany harm he might have done. Cortin reversed his gun, handing it backto him. "You're still in, Tony. And I'd advise keeping thisconversation between the two of us."
"Gladly!" Degas' expression was one of pure relief.
"We won't mention it again, then." She started the car and pulled backonto the dirt road. "I've got to stop at the Harrison ranch for a fewminutes, then we can finish our drive."
Cortin hadn't intended to let any of her team see the softer side ofher--it didn't seem fitting for an Enforcement officer, much less anInquisitor--but she'd thought Tony's willingness to talk too importantto miss. And she wasn't about to let anything stop her from visitingthe retired priest, his brother's family--and her family, the cat she'dfound in labor on the back seat of her car three days ago. She'dalways remember the expression on the good Father's face, when heopened the door to find a desperate-looking Inquisitor with an armfulof very pregnant cat, trying to explain she'd gone into the woods for aminute to answer a call of nature, and come back to find this, and wasthere please any place Mama-Cat could have her kittens?
He'd been kind enough to let her in and find a large basket he linedwith towels. Mama-Cat had promptly settled in, making it clear Cortinwasn't to leave while she gave birth. Not at all reluctant, Cortin hadstayed, getting acquainted with the Harrison family--who'd beenunderstandably alarmed to find an Enforcement Service car parked intheir front yard--while Mama had eight kittens Cortin assured her wereabsolutely beautiful. Of course, as she'd told the Harrisons, she'dalways had a soft spot for animals, especially baby ones--but they weredelightful!
Father Harrison was waiting, as usual, when she pulled into the driveand parked. If he was surprised to see another officer with her, hehid it well, smiling as Cortin introduced Degas. "Welcome,Lieutenant--and come in, both of you. Andrew's fixing supper; you'llstay, of course?"
"We'd love to," Cortin said, "but--"
"And Margaret's baking pies, with last year's dried fruits. She'd liketo send your men some, but they won't be done for another hour . . ."
Cortin raised her hands, grinning. "You win, Father, you win! We'llstay. Has Starfire foaled yet?"
"This morning, a healthy palomino colt. We've named him Lifestar, inyour honor--I hope you don't mind."
"On the contrary, I'm flattered--though I don't get the connection."
"In that case, just call it an old man's whimsy. I thought it might bea little early."
&nb
sp; Cortin was puzzled by that comment, but she didn't have long to wonderat it; as soon as she and Degas followed the priest inside, she wasmobbed--at least that was what it felt like--by the Harrison childrenand pets. Three children, four dogs, and a cat, she thought, were farmore formidable than it sounded like they should be--and she lovedbeing their target. When their greetings settled down a bit, shepicked up Mama-Cat and carried her back to her kittens, smilingwistfully as the tiny beings mewed, hunting blindly for nipples, thensettling down as they found them and began nursing. She'd alwayswanted a family of her own; if Mike hadn't been Special Ops, she'd havemarried him as soon as her Service obligation was complete, and doneher best to have a dozen or so children. Now that that was impossible,the wish for it seemed to be getting stronger.
She put that out of her mind, stroking Mama-Cat and, very gently, eachof the kittens before she rose to see a bemused expression on Degas'face. "Doesn't quite fit my image, does it?"
"No, ma'am. But it makes me even more certain you're the one myconfessor meant."
Father Harrison looked from him to Cortin and back, then smiled slowly."I thought your voice was familiar, Lieutenant," he said. Then, toCortin's astonishment, the old priest blessed himself and murmured,"Thank You, Lord."
Degas stared at him, nodded once, and duplicated the slow smile. "Samehere, Father. I'm glad we both lived to see it."
This time it was Cortin who looked from one to the other. "I do notbelieve in coincidence," she said firmly, shaking her head.
"What coincidence?" Father Harrison asked, beaming at her. "This happymeeting is simply the power of prayer in action. Needless to say, I'mdelighted to see the troubled boy I counseled has matured into a fineofficer and found the one I predicted would complete his healing."
Cortin couldn't argue the power of prayer--and the children weren'tabout to let adult seriousness delay their fun any longer. They almostpulled Cortin outside and to the corral behind the barn, to show herStarfire and the newborn Lifestar. The colt was a palomino, all right,in the classic--and rare--coin-gold, his mane and tail gleaming whiteas he frolicked around his mother. If she were any judge, Cortinthought, he'd be a prize-winner before too long. And he positivelyglowed with vitality--if Father Harrison had seen that kind ofconnection between her and the colt, she could only feel flattered.
She wasn't allowed much time to think about that, though. The childrenwanted to show off their Young Farmer projects, so she spent the restof the time till Margaret called them in to supper happily admiringthem and giving any help the children asked for.
Once they were seated at the table and the children's father had saidgrace, Degas turned to the priest. "If I'm out of line, Father, forgetI asked--but is there any reason you're all wearing cartridges onneck-chains?"
Father Harrison glanced at Cortin with a smile. "We wanted souvenirsof Captain Cortin's visit, once we got over the shock of her suddenarrival, and cartridges were all she had extras of. She was kindenough to bless them for us, asking special protection from terrorists.I put them on neck-chains, and we've been wearing them ever since."
"Fortunately," Cortin said, "terrorists seldom show any interest infarms or landfolk, so we'll probably never know how effective they are."
"On the other hand," Degas said, "we might--I'd like one, and I'll evenprovide my own cartridge. I wouldn't be surprised if the rest of theteam felt the same way, too."
"Okay, as long as you don't expect miracles from them."
Father Harrison smiled. "But don't be surprised if you get them,either." He turned to Cortin. "A number of the neighbors would likethem, too. I took the liberty of buying a box of cartridges and makingseveral up, hoping you wouldn't mind."
Cortin wasn't really sure whether she approved of that or not, but shecouldn't think of any real reason to object, and it would only take afew minutes of her time. "All right, as soon as we finish supper."
* * * * *
Degas' prediction proved correct; the rest of the team did wantcartridges she'd blessed, and wore them on neck-chains--but attached sothey could be quickly removed if necessary and used as they'doriginally been intended, a precaution Cortin approved of. From theteam, the popularity of her blessed cartridges spread to the rest ofthe base and beyond, gaining in reputation as field teams credited themwith the fact that casualties seemed to be fewer and less serious amongtroopers who wore them.
As the team's stay in Middletown lengthened, all of them becameimpatient with the sheer frustration of waiting for the Brothers tomake the first move. It was a frustration law enforcement personnellearned to live with, since they almost always had to react tolawbreakers, but that didn't make it any easier as winter becamespring, then early and mid-summer.
At least, Cortin thought, the Base Commander kept his promise. Therewere fewer Brothers or other terrorists among her subjects than shewould have liked, but she was kept busy with other criminals. Theywere less personally involving than the Brothers, though she discoveredas she worked with them that they provided just as much professionalsatisfaction. Unlike terrorists, most of them survived her attentions;her interest in murderers, thieves, and the like was restricted togetting the necessary information from them, then turning them over tojudges for sentencing. As her skill grew to match her talent, thatbecame both easier and more satisfying, though it had a side effect shehadn't really expected and didn't like as well. Her reputation alsogrew, to the point where--as Illyanov had predicted--the threat ofbeing handed over to Inquisitor-Captain Cortin was enough, in manycases, to elicit a full confession. Even that had its satisfactions,though, after the first few times; the point, after all, was to get thenecessary information, and if she could do it by proxy, that only madeher more effective.
And, one late February evening, Chang and Odeon reported to theircommanding officer's quarters with the news that Chang's research hadat long last borne fruit. When Cortin invited them in, Chang bowed."I can report limited success, Captain--and our superior has taken aninterest." She handed her commanding officer an envelope. "He wishedme to maintain silence until a suitable donor was found, to preventundue anxiety on your part. Lieutenant Bain and I did so thisafternoon; if you agree to the procedure, Team Azrael will departtomorrow morning for a suitable surgical and recuperation area with itsprisoner."
Cortin waved them to seats and took one herself, then opened theenvelope. It held a single sheet of paper, directing her to placeherself under Medic-Lieutenant Chang's orders if she chose theprocedure, with a handwritten note at the bottom: "It sounds indecent,but promising. If you decide to have it done, keep me in mind nexttime you're in New Denver or I'm out East."
Cortin scowled at her subordinates, but couldn't maintain theexpression; it was too hard to keep from grinning, and she finally did."For people who've been going behind their CO's back, you two lookremarkably unrepentant--not to mention smug. So tell me about this'indecent but promising,' 'limited success' procedure . . . not that Ithink I'll need much convincing."
"The team will be ready to go at 0500," Odeon said, doing his best tolook innocent.
Cortin gave him a dirty look, then shook her head in resignation. "Imust be getting too predictable. Go on, Sis, spill it."
"As the Captain says." Chang's face remained impassive, but her eyestwinkled. "As I thought, the original rumor was exaggerated. TheInquisitor was not regrowing tissue; he was merely reattaching itemsthat had been removed. And it was only external items; internal organsare either too complicated or simply beyond his skill. However, fullfunction and sensation were restored in all cases, even when thereattachment was to another subject, provided the blood type was thesame and the work was carefully done. And the recipient subject wasmaintained on an adequate dosage of algetin."
Cortin winced. Algetin was a potent pain-enhancer, which made itextremely useful for interrogations, but this was the first she'd heardof it having any medical use. Still . . . "I gather this talk ofreattach
ments and algetin is not just theoretical, and is connectedwith my problem?"
Chang nodded. "Inquisitors on St. Ignatius do tend to take more timewith their subjects than do those in other Kingdoms. This onediscovered that algetin, used in adequate quantity and for an adequateperiod, promotes both healing and nerve growth. While, as I said,reattachment was successful in all cases, that of genital tissue wasspectacularly so." She allowed herself a brief smile. "The Service'sfavorite virus, I suspect, is involved there. So, while any skincould, in theory, be used for the reconstruction you require, I havechosen somewhat more specialized material. You are, of course, awareof penile nerve density and sensitivity."
Cortin chuckled. Sis knew perfectly well she did, but she said, "Ofcourse," willing to play along. What the medic called a virus wasn't,exactly; it was called that only because it wasn't exactly anythingelse, either, except itself, the cause of the Satyr Plague. That wasthe only "disease" she knew of that people hadn't tried very hard toavoid, because of its effect: it enhanced sexuality, especially in men,and gave them capability to match their increased drive--capabilitythat had been purest fantasy before the virus' appearance thirty yearsago. "Go on."
"The donor we have found is a Brother with your blood type; I believethe appropriate skin and nerve layers, inverted and properly placed,should serve your purpose nicely." She smiled again. "We are, ofcourse, assuming you wish to resume female function. If not, there isnothing I can do. However, from our discussion some months ago andwhat Captain Odeon has told me, I believe that assumption is warranted.Am I correct?"
"You are," Cortin managed to say, staring at her medic. But it didmake sense--was even just, in an odd way. If it worked, a Brotherwould be providing what several of them had ruined. "You areabsolutely correct. It sounds like fantasy, but if you think there'sany chance at all, I'm willing to try." She glared at Odeon, who wastrying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face. "What's the matter withyou? Don't you think it'll work?"
"If Sis's this optimistic, it'll work." Odeon grinned. "And I knowyou, remember? You've had a long dry spell--I can hardly wait to helpyou make up for that."
Cortin's eyebrows rose. "Longer than I ever have before, true--and I'mas eager for the drought's end as you are. Maybe more so--and fromwhat you two are saying, that won't be long."
"Not long at all," Odeon said. "We'll be heading for Dragon's Lairfirst thing tomorrow--no need to look so surprised! Bradford pointedout that it'd have to be kept between him and us; what better placethan a well-secured Royal retreat? He may've told His Majesty, to getus permission to use it, but can you imagine the reaction if the publicfound out someone--even a Brother--had been maimed for the purpose ofallowing an Enforcement officer to have sex again?"
"I can imagine it would cause a bit of an uproar," Cortin said drily."Even if it's part of the punishment he deserves for his crimes."
"And I imagine that's putting it damn mildly," Odeon said. "It'spretty obvious how you feel, but to make it official?"
"I want it--even if it means being under algetin for however long."That would be days at least, maybe a couple of weeks, of pureagony . . . but it would be worth it. She hoped. "I'm at your orders,Lieutenant Chang."
"The only one I have at the moment is that you are to eat no solid fooduntil after the operation," the medic said. "Let me reassure you aboutthe algetin, however. It will cause you no distress; those of myprofession have drugs to ease or eliminate even such extreme pain. Ican render you unconscious while the algetin is necessary."
"Good." Cortin had no desire to use drugs for normal pain, but algetinenhancement was an entirely different situation. She turned to Odeon."You said we leave at 0500, which means getting up at 0300 if we'regoing to say Mass and still have time for the rest of you to eatbreakfast. So I think you'd better have supper, and all of us shouldget to bed early."