The Alembic Plot Part 22

"So what's the verdict for tonight? Rest or recreation?"

"Recreation, definitely. After supper, though."

"Bradford and Illyanov have been making it pretty clear they'd like in, if you're willing."

'Willing' seemed like a pretty weak word too, Cortin thought. It didn't seem her drive was any stronger than it had been, so maybe it was the length of time she'd had to abstain, but the idea of as wide a variety as she could get--and as much--was overwhelmingly attractive.

"I a.s.sume you told them I would be?"

"Not exactly, though I did say you'd enjoyed men from outside your team in the past. Sweet Mother, I couldn't even be sure you'd want me, after what the Brothers did to you!" Until he'd been told this morning that she would, and he'd only become positive when she'd claimed him . . .

"There's a major difference between an enemy a.s.sault and a friendly tussle," Cortin said drily. "I was a little nervous at first, I can't deny that, but it didn't last long. I didn't notice you having me held down, or using broken bottles, or gun barrels along with threats to blow my head off from the inside."

"You never told me that!" Odeon exclaimed, horrified.

"I . . . had a hard time talking about it until now. Even during debrief, with all of Colonel Bradford's skill. I still do, a little."

Odeon embraced her, swearing to himself. What he had known was bad enough--but he hadn't imagined rape with a gun barrel, and he didn't want to imagine any parts she'd still have trouble talking about. Brad was right--they had to get Joanie out of the field, somewhere she'd be safe, before the Brothers had a chance to get hold of her again, off limits or not, and maybe do something even worse. Between himself, Brad, and Ivan, they should be able to find some way to get her into a safe job willingly! "It's okay, Joanie," he said softly. "We'll take care of you."

Cortin started to pull away, protesting that she could take care of herself, then she settled back into his arms. Mike meant well, she was sure, and it was nice having him hold her. "We'll all take care of each other," she agreed. "And yes, do invite Ivan and Brad along--we'll make a real party of it."

"That sounds like fun." Odeon gave a theatrical sigh. "Which I suppose means I should get up and call them."

"No need," Chang said, startling them both; they hadn't realized she and Tiny were back until she spoke. "We will do so, though that will give you only a few more minutes."

"Every little bit helps," Odeon said. "Thanks, Sis--Tiny."

11. Dinner

Supper was a festive affair. The meal was sent from the Manor, with Prince Edward's compliments, and Princess Ursula sent Cortin a silk-lined brocade evening robe with a note expressing the royal couple's pleasure at the Captain's recovery. The robe was nothing like the utilitarian one Cortin usually wore, but it was attractive, and proved more comfortable than she'd thought it could be. It had seemed too showy when she first saw it, but when the men appeared in full dress uniforms, it seemed entirely appropriate. Only the two from the capital appeared completely comfortable in their finery at first, since they were the only ones who wore dress uniforms regularly, but by the time the group sat down to eat, her team looked more relaxed.

When Bradford finished saying grace, Cortin looked at him, letting her curiosity show. "A catered dinner from the Crown Prince, a robe from Her Highness, and everyone in dress blacks--what's going on?"

"Attempted bribery," Bradford said cheerfully. "For which I can't be prosecuted, since I'm operating under His Majesty's orders."

Cortin stared at him, her mind momentarily blank. "What?"

"You may not realize it, but since until recently you were St. Thomas's only female Enforcement officer, His Majesty follows your career with considerable interest. Try your soup; it's much better hot."

Cortin obeyed. "It's delicious . . . I know I was, and I suppose that's reason enough for curiosity--G.o.d knows I've run into more of it than I like!--but why bribery? I took the same commissioning oath you did, to obey His Majesty's lawful orders." If she didn't like them, well, she could go rogue after all . . . "And why so suddenly? Before the operation, everything was strictly routine."

Bradford shrugged. "That's what I thought, until this morning. One thing you'll learn, if you take the bribe, is that His Majesty asks for information and advice, but he keeps his own counsel and makes his own decisions. He won't make this an order because I told him what you were likely to do if you were kept from your revenge."

She'd been certain he knew; she nodded. "And?"

"He's always been impressed by the loyalty you inspire in those who work with you, and he was also most impressed when he saw the films of your training interrogations." Bradford smiled. "Not as impressed by the films as Ivan and I were, but His Majesty isn't an Inquisitor; he couldn't see the subtleties that can make such a difference. Still, what he could see, combined with your truthsense, not to mention the reputation you've earned from your work at Middletown, have convinced him that you're the one he wants for a new position. It's a major part of the increased anti-terrorist campaign, and it won't require you to leave the Strike Force or give up your team. There'll be less field work, though--probably a lot less--and you'll be headquartered in a new building near the Palace compound. This is a small sample of the life you can lead there, one both His Majesty and I hope you'll find tempting."

"I do," Cortin admitted. It would be hard not to be tempted by the thought of living close to the Palace compound, eating this sort of food, and keeping her Strike Force status and team as well. "What's the position? And, with all due respect to you and His Majesty, what's the catch?"

"The position is High King's Inquisitor, which carries membership in the Royal Household as well as the rank of Colonel, to match your counterparts in other Kingdoms." Bradford grinned at her expression of disbelief. "I don't joke about His Majesty, Joan. Or about a prospective member of the Royal Household, who'll outrank mere members of the King's Own if she accepts the job, and might take offense."

Cortin swallowed, hard. How could she refuse such an offer, whether she believed it justified or not? She looked at Odeon, almost desperately, but saw no help there; he looked both smug and as pleased as she thought she ought to be, so she turned her attention back to Bradford. Worse, this fit in with what she'd experienced--and preferred not to think about--while she'd been under Sis' drugs. "The catch?"

"We're hoping you don't think there is one--or at least not one bad enough to stop you from accepting the position. As I said, there'll be less field work, but to balance that, you'll be able to flag any topic you want information on, and you'll be able to requisition any prisoner you want to question yourself. You'll also be asked to carry out the most difficult interrogations as well, and executions of the worst criminals. What do you say?"

"That it all sounds much too good to be true," Cortin replied. Jumping from Captain to Colonel, the highest Enforcement rank, plus joining the Royal Household, access to any information or prisoners she wanted . . . it was hard to believe she could be offered all that, even with the reputation she now took pride in. And the vision, or hallucination, or whatever it had been that said this was going to happen. She sipped at her drink, a freshly-pressed cider. She did have to admit it was hard to refuse, though. "What else?"

"The clincher, I hope," Bradford said. "A commander who can resist personal threats or promises is often vulnerable to the same pressures on his--or her, of course--people. So a reminder: your team will remain with you. If you're part of the Household, that means they'll be attached to it--members of the King's Own, reporting to you. Not as prestigious as being Household members, and it doesn't carry automatic promotion, but they'll also live near the Palace compound--in your Lodge, if they don't mind living in a building that also houses the High King's Inquisitor and a state-of-the-art interrogation suite."

Not as overwhelming an offer as the one to herself, but Cortin nodded.

"You're right, Brad, that is the clincher. Even though you might not have needed it, if you'd given me time to think; I would've realized what the offer meant for them."

"You accept, then."

"Yes."

"Good." Bradford smiled. "On His Majesty's behalf, then, as well as from me: Congratulations, Colonel Cortin." He stood, raising his gla.s.s. "Gentles, I give you Her Excellency Colonel Joan Cortin, the High King's Inquisitor."

The others followed suit. Illyanov and Odeon exchanged glances, Odeon obviously trying to look solemn but spoiling the effect with a smile he couldn't hide. Illyanov raised an eyebrow, then nodded, and Odeon said, "To Your Excellency's continued health and happiness." The diners drank the formal toast, then sat back down, and Odeon dropped his attempt to look solemn. "High King's Inquisitor--Joanie, you couldn't've asked for a better place to hunt those plaguers from!"

"No, I don't think I could," Cortin agreed. "It's still hard to believe I'd get tapped for it, though--talent or not, I don't have that much experience." She paused long enough to eat some stuffed shrimp and take a drink of cider, then she went on. "If there'd been a position like this earlier, I'd've expected it to go to someone like Brad or Ivan, with experience."

"I do not know about Brad," Illyanov said with a smile, "but I am not qualified. I am immediately subject to Czar Nicholas, not to High King Mark. Since you express interest, however--I have been informed that I am under consideration for that position on St. Dmitri. I should like to teach you the advanced techniques we did not have time for earlier, but I should also like to return to my wife and children in New Moscow.

Despite the climate."

"New Colorado's bad enough in the winter," Cortin agreed. "I'd like to go to your home world some day, on a.s.signment or leave--but I hope it's in summer!"

"It is far more pleasant then," Illyanov said, chuckling. "Should I get the position and require your a.s.sistance, I shall try to a.s.sure it is in summer. Should you go there at any time, however, I would like you to meet my family. You will like them, I think, especially Elena and the girls, but I must warn you: the boys, especially Pyotr, will beg you for war stories, and they can be most persistent."

"I think I can handle that," Cortin said, amused. "You'll all be welcome at the Lodge, of course." She turned to Bain. "That goes for your brother's family, too, you know."

"Thanks . . ." Bain said, hesitantly. "But I'm not sure they'd be comfortable in the capital."

"I'm not sure I'll be comfortable there," Cortin said, then turned to Bradford. "Brad, all any of us know about life in New Denver comes from the news and--if we read them, which I sometimes do for laughs--the society columns. What's it really like?"

"I don't want to disappoint you," Bradford said, "but most of the time it's actually quite ordinary. You'll wear dress uniform more often, you'll be expected to attend important Palace functions, and your team will act as bodyguards any time you leave the Compound; otherwise, except for taking orders only from His Majesty--no one else can do more than request--you should find things fairly normal." He grinned.

"You'll find out, starting tomorrow . . . if Your Excellency cares to join Their Highnesses on the return flight."

Cortin swallowed. That shouldn't have surprised her, but it did--a flight to New Denver with the Crown Prince and Princess wouldn't be unusual for a member of the Royal Household, and she would get used to it, she supposed. Right now, though, it was a shock. She brought herself under control and said, "I'd be honored. Arrangements will have to be made, of course, to return our horses and pick up our personal gear. Oh, and we'll need proper insignia."

"All taken care of," Bradford said. "We had plenty of time while you were under treatment."

Cortin absorbed that, starting on her dessert. It sounded at first like Bradford or His Majesty had a.s.sumed, even before asking, that she would accept--and maybe they had, she couldn't know--but a little thought told her that wasn't necessarily the case. Bradford could carry all the insignia in a pocket, all of their personal gear wouldn't strain a single packhorse, and if she refused, they could all be returned to Middletown with only a slight loss of time. "Thanks--that was kind of you."

"Call it enlightened self-interest," Bradford said. "And I do have something to ask, when and if your primary duties permit."

"Of course, if I'm able."