The Alembic Plot Part 32

Cortin stirred the rising water with her foot, watching the ripples, comforted by the man sitting on the edge of the tub with her, his arm around her shoulders. Taken at face value, her Writ did give her almost unlimited power, and she'd like nothing better than to use it to give those she loved the first expanded Family. Most of them, anyway . . . the royals would have to find other spouses at their own level, Ivan and Brad already had families and intentions of expanding them with friends/lovers, and she . . . well, she knew perfectly well she couldn't be part of the marriage. She'd give them a nice Nuptial Ma.s.s, though.

The thought of Ma.s.s made her think of Communion, the rapturous absorption in Divinity she experienced sharing Jeshua's Body and Blood.

And had experienced earlier today, first drinking from Mike, then in union. It was confusing that three such different experiences could affect her the same way . . .

"Shall we get in before the water gets cold?"

"Huh?" Cortin glanced at her companion, seeing amused sympathy on his face. "Sorry, Ivan. I was thinking about something else."

"Are you trying to teach your instructor to suck eggs?" Illyanov asked, one eyebrow raised. He slid into the thigh-deep water, turned to help her in. "Have you decided?"

"Decided? Oh--yes. I've got to make the effort; I'll marry them whenever they want. And pray the Pope or someone doesn't annul it."

She frowned. "I wouldn't be too worried if it was still Pope Anthony--but Lucius is as conservative as they come. I'm not sure what he'll do . . . and for no reason I can pinpoint, I don't trust him."

In that case, Illyanov thought, neither did he--but he kept to the primary subject. "A valid marriage cannot be annulled, and that will be one, under the provisions of your Writ." Illyanov picked up the shampoo, began washing her hair. "It seems to me a good idea to marry them as early as possible, although--like your suspicion of Pope Lucius--I have no specific reason for the idea." He paused, then went on. "I am also concerned with what will happen when he and the Sovereigns realize the power they gave you and those like you. Ex post facto laws are invalid, so they will be unable to negate what you do--but it would not surprise me if they act quickly to restrict those powers."

"How quickly is quickly?" Cortin returned the favor, grabbing the soap and lathering her companion.

"All were involved in issuing the Writs, so all must agree on their modification. I am astonished that Prince Edward's modification was accepted so rapidly, though it was relatively minor; this is major, so it should take a Sovereign's Conference. Even with preparations made as fast as possible, I would be surprised if it could convene in less than a month. Most, you know, take a year or more to arrange."

"I never thought I'd be grateful for bureaucratic delays," Cortin said, "but this time I am." She thought of something, frowned. "Wait--I can't use the Writ yet! Not until we're activated, and who knows how long that'll be? If they catch on before then, either modify the Writs or simply never activate us, I won't be able to do anything!"

"Not true," Illyanov said. "You simply cannot use it openly until then." He grinned. "You are too straightforward for politics, beloved--one of the reasons I love you. Your Writ has been valid since it was issued, as is whatever you have done or will do under it. Marry the team, then lay the groundwork, bring together the rest of those you need for what you must accomplish, let the public--through a reporter, of course--see you at prayer and play as well as work, continue giving out the blessed cartridges."

"Play?" Cortin c.o.c.ked her head, looking up at him.

"Not this kind, of course." Illyanov returned the look, affectionately stroking her breast. "As Michael said, this can truly be shared only with those we love. I had in mind perhaps a pair of kittens?"

Cortin gaped at him, then grinned and splashed water on his chest.

"You learned that about me during unity, while I only get feeling?

That doesn't seem quite fair--not that I can complain about what I do get!"

"You know better than to jump at conclusions," Illyanov chided.

"Anthony, who has seen you with them, is not the only one who is aware of your fondness for the young of all species, particularly the feline one--a knowledge I got, not from your men, but from your reactions to things like calendar pictures."

"Oops--not thinking too clearly at the moment, I guess. Too many distractions. Sorry, Ivan." Cortin ducked under the water to rinse her hair, but more to hide embarra.s.sment. She did know better than that; her only excuse was the shock of finding she loved--and was loved by--so many people. She'd get over the shock--probably very soon, as nice as it felt--but right now she was almost as much of a mess as the situation they were all in.

"No apologies necessary," Illyanov said when she surfaced. "The . . .

total involvement shocked all of us. You may believe me suffering from an excess of my ancestral Russian mysticism, but I felt I was one with G.o.d. Turn around, I need to get your back.--You do realize that Eleanor and Joseph's baby is the first human since the Blessed Virgin to be conceived free of Original Sin?"

Cortin turned her head to stare at him. "Is that more of your Russian mysticism?"

"Simple logic, beloved. A child conceived by parents incapable of sin must share that protection, at least until it reaches the age of reason and must decide for itself."

Cortin thought for a moment, then nodded. "That does make sense. I haven't figured out all the implications of not being able to sin, yet."

"None of us have," Illyanov said. "It is possible we will receive some surprises as to what is and is not sinful, as well. While G.o.d is infallible, human interpretation of His Will is not." He smiled. "I also have a feeling that we other Sealed Inquisitors will have to imitate you in a.s.suring ourselves of a subject's guilt before going beyond the first stage of interrogation. I pray we are given truthsense to do so accurately, lest we release those who will harm the ones we are sworn to protect."

"That would have to be a part of it," Cortin agreed. "Try some test questions on me. I'll try to lie on one of them; if you've got the same kind of truthsense now that I do, you'll be able to feel which one."

"Questions I do not know the answers to. Having been your instructor, I know you well enough for that to be difficult; let me think."

He had finished bathing her and was being bathed in turn before he was able to think of any. As he'd told her, he knew too much about her for most conventional questions to be evidential, and the unconventional ones he really wanted to ask would tell her too much. "Do you believe the Protector's appearance will make our profession obsolete?"

"No," Cortin said promptly. "We'll be just as necessary, though not always in the same way, I'm sure." She grinned. "Not everyone's going to be willing to give up even the little free will we did, either to be sure of Heaven or to avoid h.e.l.l. Criminals still won't give up their information without a fight, and they'll still need mortal punishment; there'll definitely be a place for Inquisitors!"

"That is good to know. Ah . . . let me see. I do not remember that we ever went into your pre-Academy background, with the exception of your family being a farming one; if the subject would not be too painful, that might be a possible area of evidence."

"My adoptive family," Cortin corrected him. "But I can't say my childhood was any more painful than average, so go ahead."

"Do you remember your biological parents at all?"

"No. As far as I know, I never saw either of them; I was the cla.s.sic orphan left in a basket on someone's front porch."

"What about siblings?"

"One, an older brother. Though Mother and Father would have dearly loved more; I remember regular Ma.s.ses for that intention."

"And how did they feel when you went into Enforcement?"

"As surprised as I was, and I think a little disappointed, though they tried not to show it. We . . . lost touch . . . not long after I went to the Academy."

"Not a close family, then."

"Not particularly," Cortin agreed. "When I gave up farming, we had no interests in common any longer, so I suppose it was natural to lose contact. It was my fault as much as theirs; I got so absorbed in my studies that I took longer and longer answering letters, and when I did, it was about the Academy and my cla.s.smates. Also . . . I didn't mention it, but I'm sure they knew I was using our dispensation, and they didn't approve."

"Fortunate for us, though not for them." That seemed to close that subject; Illyanov sought for another. "Ah . . . a.s.suming the Protector defeats Shayan and we are able to expand beyond the Systems' present limits, do you believe we will be able to avoid contact with the Empire?"

"I think so, for another couple of centuries at least."

Illyanov quirked an eyebrow. "And that, beloved, is true only as a hope, not a conviction. So we have proven two things."

"That at least under test circ.u.mstances lying isn't sinful," Cortin agreed, "and that you--by extension, Dave and Brad too--have a reliable truthsense."

"And we will find out more as we go." Illyanov studied her for a moment. "What do you truly believe about the Empire, beloved?"

Cortin rubbed the back of her neck in a gesture she'd picked up from Odeon. "I'm afraid of them," she admitted slowly. "I can't say it's a totally justified fear--there's been no contact since the Flight, after all, and all the comm intercepts I've heard confirm their non-interference claims. But that's hard to believe of any government."

Illyanov nodded. "I share that particular reservation, though not strongly. I believe contact will be traumatic, but ultimately beneficial. Like your fear, my optimism is not totally justified. It is stronger than a mere hunch, however, and I confess I would like to meet some of them face to face."

Cortin looked at him quizzically. "Even the non-human ones?"

"Perhaps especially those," Illyanov admitted, smiling. "But I fear I am monopolizing your time; perhaps we should rejoin the others." He helped her finish rinsing him, then got out of the tub and gave her a hand up.

Clean and dressed--someone had thoughtfully laid Illyanov's uniform out on Cortin's bed--the two returned to the common-room. The rest were already back, and Brady was serving herb tea and small cakes. Cortin took one, though she wasn't really hungry, and nibbled at it until Brady left. Then she got the group's attention and said, "Ivan came up with an idea a few minutes ago. I don't particularly like it, but I can definitely see where it could be useful: let a reporter spend some time with us, enough to get to know us as people instead of symbols."

That got a mixed reaction, from Degas' wince to Odeon's thoughtful nod.

"Personally," her Team-second said after a moment's thought, "I don't like it any better than you do . . . but otherwise, it sounds good.

And we can handle anything, for a short enough time."