The Alembic Plot Part 28

"No, or Sis wouldn't have been able to take it from Joanie." Odeon hesitated, then went on. "I wouldn't have been able to tell you all this unless it was highly probable you'd want to be on her team if you knew. If that's right and you do, either Sis or I can Seal you to her; if not, you'll have to wait till she goes public."

"I do," Bradford said without hesitation. "From you, since I agree that there's no time to waste."

"Good." Odeon rose as Bradford knelt in front of him. "Drink, then, the Seed of Life."

Bradford was hesitant at first, taking only what welled out--and that was enough for the union to form. Odeon felt the hesitancy dissolve, felt Bradford's awed pleasure as G.o.d's Presence filled and cleansed him, shared his fear that it would end--and then his joyous realization that it wouldn't, that he'd been accepted and was wholly G.o.d's now.

When it was over, Bradford shook his head, looking dazed. "I had no idea . . . and Mike, I don't feel like conducting even a Stage One after that. I need to come down, if you don't mind."

"Me too," Odeon said. "The repet.i.tions, or whatever they end up being called, won't be that prolonged or intense, of course, but I'm beginning to think the Sealing itself always will be. And that we'll have to allow for a wind-down period--most likely s.e.xual, the way I felt and felt you feel. Though Sis and I didn't, until after Joanie was on her feet."

"Of course not," Bradford said. "I'd like s.e.x--but what I need is talk. To help Joanie effectively, I've got to know exactly what she and we are trying to accomplish, and--if possible--why." He found a chair without looking, settled into it. When Odeon had followed suit, he went on. "Since you and Sis were chosen directly by Jeshua, you two are the obvious leaders of our group. If she's around, maybe she should join us."

"If she's awake, you mean," Odeon corrected, grinning. "When I saw her last night, she and Ivan were heading for her room, looking like they intended to make a night of it."

Bradford looked at him quizzically, then echoed the grin. "And a disciple of him, I'd be willing to bet."

"A bet you would win, Colonel." Chang stood just inside the door, her arm around the St. Dmitri Inquisitor's waist. "He, and the rest of Team Azrael--including Lieutenant Powell. Pardon the intrusion, but I felt we would be needed, and no one answered when we knocked." She smiled at Bradford. "It is good to have you in our group, Colonel."

"Thanks--I'm happy I could be. And we are off duty." Bradford gestured the newcomers to seats. "At least off Enforcement duty, and you and Mike outrank the rest of us in this field."

"As we heard you tell him, yes." Chang and Illyanov took seats.

"However, it is we four, not two, who are her primary staff. Your responsibility will be liaison with the Church. Mike and I must guide her into her temporary role. Ivan is to show her that her dual role of judge and exalter is complementary rather than contradictory."

"That's going to be hardest, I think," Bradford said. "I know who she is, and I still have trouble with the Lifegiver as an Inquisitor."

Illyanov smiled. "Did your parents never punish you, then?"

"Yes, and I get the connection--punishment, and hopefully correction before it's too late to change. But the scale is so different!"

"And right now she's more interested in the punishment part than the correction one," Odeon said. "That's not surprising--but helping her change that emphasis has to be Sis' and my first priority."

"That will not keep her from carrying out her punishment and execution duties, will it?" Illyanov asked.

"How could it?" Chang countered. "She is Judge as well as Guardian--and even if it were not so, she could not deliberately fail to perform any legal duty she is sworn to. Even with her knowledge of her destiny deliberately hidden, she is Protector if only for a time, as well as being the true one's Herald, and therefore incapable of sin."

"Which doesn't mean she can't make mistakes," Odeon added. "Being human, she can--both has, and will."

Bradford frowned. "Any idea when she'll realize who she is?"

"Nothing firm, but logic says not until she has to--maybe as late as when she confronts Shannon, or the real Protector surfaces."

"Which gives us time to discuss this more later," Bradford said, glancing at the wall clock. "I did promise Joanie I'd question Powell for her, and . . ." He hesitated, then went on. "I . . . now that I know who she is, I feel I have to watch her work."

"Understandable." Odeon nodded, then gave the Bishop-Inquisitor a half-smile. "Does questioning Chuck have to be formal, or can you enjoy yourselves in the process?"

"Hmm?" Bradford frowned in puzzlement, then smiled. "Since he's already agreed to cooperate, I don't see any need for a formal interrogation. Why?"

"Let's go up to the common-room, and I'll show you."

When they got there, Powell was sprawled comfortably in front of the record player, listening to Melnyikov's "Musical Explorations" and caressing himself. Odeon grinned, at last able to fully appreciate the composer, and tempted to follow Powell's example. Melnyikov's previous works had hinted at eroticism; this one embraced and celebrated it.

That made it a popular piece with Enforcement and much of the n.o.bility, frowned on by the Church and most landfolk. Rumor had it that Melnyikov had used biological research--or Shayan's aid--to make "Explorations" so effective; after what he'd learned recently, Odeon suspected a different source. He glanced at Bradford, saw a speculative look, and raised a curious eyebrow.

"You were right to suggest an informal session," Bradford said appreciatively. "I'd almost forgotten his training--I'll probably get better results this way than by the more conventional methods."

"No doubt enjoying yourself in the process," Illyanov said.

"No doubt at all," Bradford agreed, removing his tunic and undershirt.

"You're welcome to stay and partic.i.p.ate, of course, either with him or setting an example."

"He is strongly attracted to Michael," Illyanov pointed out, "so if the two of you concentrate on him--"

"Ivan and I will set the example," Chang finished.

15. Demon Drops

"Good morning, my dear." Cortin greeted her subject cheerily as soon as she entered the third-stage room. Yes, Mike had had it cleaned; except for the misery and fatigue in her subject's att.i.tude, there was no evidence of what he'd been through the night before. "Are you ready for today's session?"

The man licked his lips, then said, "That captain who was here before called you Azrael. What's that mean--who are you? What're you gonna do to me?"

"Your education has been sadly neglected if you do not know the Angel of Death," Cortin said easily. "I will carry out the sentence you earned when you joined the Brotherhood, eventually. Before that, however, we will share some entertainment, and you will tell me everything you know about the Brothers of Freedom."

"Like h.e.l.l I will!" But the man's voice held no conviction, and Cortin smiled.

"Oh, not without some resistance, of course." She turned to the cabinets, began laying out instruments and drugs where the subject could see them, taking her time to give him plenty of opportunity to study each one. "I have restricted myself to field-level drugs and instruments until now; I really should be experimenting with the more advanced techniques, now that I have easy access to them. Some of these do look interesting." She picked up several of the instruments again, one at a time, looking thoughtfully from instrument to prisoner and back, but there was no unusual reaction from him.

"The simple infliction of pain holds no particular terrors for you, I see," she commented. "Good, then you can demonstrate some of the drugs for me." That got a reaction, as she'd expected from the previous night; he tried, with little success, to hold back a gasp. "Not algetin, I am quite familiar with that, and you have already given me an excellent demonstration of eroticine." She studied labels on various little jars, again taking her time, stretching his antic.i.p.ation and fear. "We can also eliminate these, I think, as they are primarily for medical purposes; my medic can handle them, if necessary. That still leaves quite a selection, however. Hmm, this looks interesting."

She filled a syringe, turned to him. "Hallucinogens are not really too useful as interrogation drugs, because of both their primary function and their unpredictability. But I cannot resist one called 'demon drops' and described as causing both hallucinations and rapid mood changes--so you get to try it."

"Keep that h.e.l.l-stuff away from me!"

"There is no point in fighting, you know," Cortin said as she approached him. A light coming on caught her attention; she raised a hand in greeting to whoever had entered the observation room, surprised when she saw the clock at how long she'd been working. She dismissed that, though, and made the injection in spite of her subject's ineffectual struggles. As she'd told him, there was absolutely no point in fighting when you were shackled by wrists and ankles, but she had no real objection if one of her subjects wanted to; it merely emphasized their relative positions. "There--now we will see what happens."

"You go straight to h.e.l.l, b.i.t.c.h!"

"Your colleagues tried to send me there once," Cortin reminded him with a smile. "Now I return the favor, more successfully. Should that be my destination, I have excellent reasons to believe you will be there waiting for me." There was nothing more she could do until the drug took effect, which according to the label should be quickly, but even a brief time should be enough to see who the observer was.

Bradford greeted her as she entered the dimly-lit room with its large window of one-way gla.s.s. "Lieutenant Powell didn't have very much except what he already told you--that was one reason you got him to practice on, after all--so I thought I'd come down and watch for a bit.

What'd you give him?"

"Demon drops." Cortin shrugged. "I know hallucinogens aren't recommended--but I learned a long time ago to play my hunches, and I think this'll break him."

"I was curious, not objecting," Bradford said mildly. "I've never had any luck with it, but others have; I don't argue with what works."

"I hope this does," Cortin said, watching her subject closely. "If it's what the prewars called a bad trip, and he remembers, it should."