25. Discussion
The rest of the Family had waited supper, except for the children, who'd already finished and, to Cortin's relief, gone back to their floor. She and Odeon showered and got back into uniform while Sara told the rest about their brief communication with Shayan.
There was little conversation during the meal, though Cortin did comment that she'd expected him to make contact again as soon as her subject died.
"He says there isn't that much of a rush," Odeon reported. "He also wants to know how you'd prefer the discussion to take place: phone, mind-touch, or in person. He's offering to heal Chuck and Tony, too, then bring them home, to seal the alliance."
"An offer I'll definitely accept," Cortin said. "And I'd prefer a meeting in person, if he can get here without frightening the servants."
"He says he can. Tony and Chuck will be here as soon as they get dressed, and he'll join us himself when we're in the common-room and ready for him."
The reunited Family had spent a few minutes celebrating, then Cortin had ordered refreshments set up in the common-room. When that was done and the servants had left, the Family pulled chairs into a circle and seated themselves. Moments later, with no fanfare, the empty spot was occupied by what looked like a slim elderly man in a white cassock.
"Shayan," Cortin said, keeping her voice level.
"I prefer Lucius, if you don't mind."
"Lucius, then. I knew I'd have to face you eventually; let's get it over with."
The Pope held up both hands, shaking his head. "This is a simple discussion, Colonel, not the decision point. You must have realized that for yourself, to have accepted the alliance and this meeting."
Cortin sighed. "It could've been a ruse. I was almost hoping so, just to finish the matter."
"No ruse," Lucius assured her. "My motives must remain my own, but it is in my self-interest to support the Strike Forces and the Families, as well as promoting devotion to both Jeshua and the Protector. For that reason, and that reason alone, you may count on my unstinting support for … I would estimate the next couple of years, perhaps more."
"Why should I believe you?"
"Because of your truthsense." Lucius smiled briefly. "I like you, Colonel Cortin."
"Which is a flat lie." Cortin nodded. "All right, between that evidence and your claim that your support is due to your own self-interest, I'll accept it as real. What about the Brotherhood?"
"I have ordered it disbanded and recommended the members repent their sins and return to the Church." Lucius paused, smiling again. "Don't expect much from either order or recommendation, however; I recruited among, and accepted only, the most disaffected of those susceptible to the idea of becoming terrorists. I can think of only one major error in that selection process, and he is presently a member of your team and Family."
"Me, right?" Degas said.
"Yes. I would tend to believe, now, that I was under outside influence when I selected you—but I doubt very much any of my other selectees have your characteristics."
"Considering the ones I met, I'd tend to agree," Degas said.
"To get back to the subject," Cortin said, "which of your personas ordered the Brotherhood disbanded? And what reason did you give?"
"Shannon gave the order, of course, as you'll see in the news. That is the only one with any chance of influencing them, though as I said, the results will be minimal. 'Peace and Justice' may be their slogan, but it is not their true desire, and it is extremely difficult to lead such men where they do not wish to go. As for the reason—Lawrence Shannon seldom gives reasons, but I did say the Brotherhood had outlived its usefulness."
"That's easy enough to understand. What about Shannon himself?"
"Good question. I'm sure, given what I observed today, that your choice would be for him to repent and surrender?"
Cortin nodded. "It would, but considering Shannon's true identity, I'd say that's not likely."
"Correct, since I have no intention of repenting, and you wouldn't cooperate in such a pretense. He can simply disappear, or I can arrange the murder or suicide of one of my doubles, to provide a body."
"Which wouldn't give the victim even a minimal chance of repentance." Cortin shook her head. "Of those options, I'd prefer the disappearance."
"So be it; Lawrence Shannon no longer exists. Nor do the compulsions he imposed, to prevent Brothers from seeking the Sacraments. Some of the lesser members will take advantage of that, though I doubt any of the leadership will do so."
"Which you regret, even though you won't do it yourself," Odeon said. "That doesn't make a whole lot of sense."
"To you, perhaps. I am doing what I see as necessary, which does not include my own repentance." He paused, studying the scar-faced man. "Has it occurred to you, Captain Odeon, that I may be too set in my ways to change, particularly in such a basic way?"
"It hadn't, and I don't believe it for a minute." Odeon returned the other's scrutiny. "I told Colonel Cortin once that not even you are beyond redemption, and what you're doing now just reinforces that conviction. It may take something drastic to convince you, but I'm positive enough that I'm going to add it to my Mass intentions from now on."
Lucius was silent for almost a full minute, then he nodded, once. "I can hardly tell you not to, Captain, though after what I did to you, I would expect you to hate and curse me instead."
"I hate what you've done, but I keep remembering that you were once one of the greatest princes of Heaven, and I'd like to see you back in that position."
"We shall see." Lucius made an abrupt gesture with his hand, then turned his attention back to Cortin. "Would you care to concelebrate Mass with me Sunday, Excellency, then be present for my announcement of these policies?"
Cortin thought about that, then said, "What do you think, Captain Odeon? Would that be appropriate for the Protector's Herald?"
Lucius frowned, sent Odeon a thought. *She is still unaware of her true status?*
*Yes. Jeshua said she'd be happier not knowing, and I agree.*
*Happier, perhaps, but what makes you think she will be able to remain ignorant, now that she is being hailed and worshipped as Protector? Although it is small as yet in her case, that worship does generate energy, and it is focused on her; she will soon begin to feel and manipulate it, whether she recognizes it or not. I suppose trying to protect her as you are doing is praiseworthy, but I question both its wisdom and its fairness.*
*Umm. I don't like it, but you may have a point.*
*I do indeed. Will you tell her, or shall I?*
*I'll do it, since you don't seem to be leaving me much of a choice.* Odeon looked around at the Family, then concentrated on its head. "Joanie … I've just been told I've—we've all—been doing you a disservice, thinking it was a favor."
Cortin frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Michael—" Chang said cautioningly.
"If I don't tell her, he will." Odeon sighed, rubbed the back of his neck. "And there's no way to break it easy—"
"I am the Protector, then," Cortin said flatly. "When that man called me that yesterday, I had the oddest feeling … tried to tell myself it was only because he believed it, but …"
"Acting, but yeah. He says you're going to start feeling the worship directed at you soon."
"I already have, I think. The other part of what made me think he was right. Sort of a cross between extra energy and feeling like I've eaten too much." Cortin smiled at him. "Keeping it from me this long was a favor, Mike—and now, telling me that I'm only Acting is a definite relief. I can handle it for awhile, knowing I won't have to do it forever." She turned to the Pope. "How long, and who's the real one?"
"Less than six months, and I do not know. If I did, I am certain I would not be allowed to tell you." He gave her a thin smile. "Despite my powers, I do operate under constraints; only the Creator is all-powerful, and I, like you, am one of the created."
Cortin chuckled. "Less than six months I can handle, and I'm sure I'll know the real one when He or She appears."
"At the proper time, if not immediately. In the meantime, can you answer my question?"
"Mike?"
"I don't see any harm," Odeon said.
"I'll do it, then. Provided Mike and Dave are also concelebrants."
"That would be even better," Lucius agreed. "It would also be well if Lieutenant Chang were to offer the Communion of Promise afterward."
"I would be pleased to do so," Chang said. "Does your change of heart include reparations for the damage you did to Colonel Cortin?"
"I hadn't considered that, but I suppose it should include correcting the damage, though I will not modify the added sensitivity you gave her; that is the best I can do in the way of reparations." He paused for a few seconds. "There, done. I can do nothing about your fertility, Colonel; that, if it is done at all, will be up to the true Protector."
Cortin smiled. "I never thought I'd be saying this, but thank you. This whole thing is a great relief to me—the real Protector coming, the Brotherhood ordered disbanded even if most of it won't obey, you supporting the Families and promoting devotion to the Protector … I wouldn't have believed any of it a day ago. Everything coming together so well, and so suddenly—a much better ending than I'd dared hope for."
"Ending, Colonel?" Lucius shook his head, his expression grim. "An end to this phase, perhaps, and some time to prepare for the next—but this phase has been nothing but a preliminary. We have not yet even reached the decision point—which will, by the way, not be the sort of confrontation you fear; no one will come to harm there. The decision made at that point will be the true beginning, and the best-case outcome will be a war more destructive of life than any so far in this universe's history."
26. Imperial Contact
St. Thomas, Monday, 27 July 2572 CE
A soft knock on the door and a barely-audible "Excellency?" from outside it woke her. It was Matthew's voice, so she let the gun stay under her pillow and got up, grumbling to herself as she put on a bathrobe and went to open the door. "What is it, Matthew?"
"A call from His Majesty, Excellency. He apologizes for waking you, but we've just captured an Imperial scoutship, and he would like you to be ready to interrogate the prisoners as soon as they're brought in. That should be about two hours."
"So they finally got this far out. Damn. Is His Majesty still on the phone?"
"No, Excellency; he was confident of your response." Matthew smiled. "Breakfast will be ready as soon as you finish Mass—shall I wake Captain Odeon to assist?"
"What time is it?"
"Five o'clock, Excellency."
"Late enough he'd be upset if I didn't—go ahead." As her butler left, Cortin scowled. The Kingdom Systems couldn't avoid Imperial notice forever—they'd been lucky to get the roughly four hundred years they'd had—but she wasn't at all sure she cared to live under the Terran Empire's rule.
Not, she thought as she showered and got into uniform, that they'd probably have much choice in the matter. The Empire claimed to be a benevolent umbrella government, that it didn't interfere in local affairs unless absolutely necessary, which Mike's studies of comm intercepts tended to confirm—but it was hard to believe that their non-interference policy could stretch to include the Kingdoms. Well, she'd find out—at least she'd find out whatever the scoutship's crew knew or believed about it.
She got her usual deep pleasure out of saying Mass, assisted by both Mike Odeon and Dave Bain, who claimed he'd been awake anyway. Cortin had her suspicions of the reason, with Sis at the unusually early Mass, and approved heartily. Sis was five months pregnant, but that was no reason to deny herself the pleasures of any of the Family's husbands, and Cortin was of the opinion that Dave was good for her.
After Mass, the clean-up that had recently become necessary afterward, and breakfast, Cortin, Odeon, Chang, and Bain went to her ground-floor office to wait for the prisoner. They were silent at first, but at last Bain said, "Joanie?"
"Hmm?"
"We're in trouble, aren't we?"
Cortin sighed. "I can't be sure, but I think so. That's because they scare me for some reason—even though there's no evidence I can point to that'll justify that fear. But I'm the wrong person to ask about the Empire; Mike's the one who's been studying them."
Bain turned to his co-husband. "Mike?"
"I can't agree with Joanie on that issue," Odeon said. "As I told her a few months ago, I'm only able to scratch the surface—comm intercepts and the little bit of the Founders' records that survived the Final War don't give you much. Still, what I've seen in those don't scare me at all—truth to tell, I think it's reassuring. You know they ended a ten-year-long war about three years ago?"
"Vaguely. Some sort of non-humans surrendered, didn't they?"
"Not exactly. The Traiti were losing badly, but if I'm reading the intercepts right, they have a psychological block against surrender. Instead, they took a Ranger prisoner, and a couple of months later, their leaders petitioned for membership in the Empire."
"Huh?" Cortin looked at him in astonishment. "They petitioned to join their enemy?"
"That's how I read it," Odeon confirmed. "My point, though, is that the Empire accepted them and is in the process of integrating their worlds and military—to the point where the Traiti leaders are now Imperial nobles, and quite a few of their fighters have transferred to the Navy and Marines. They kept their previous ranks—hard to believe, but since a couple are now in command of Imperial warships, that part has to be true."
"One of them's the non-human Ranger I heard about?" Cortin asked.
Odeon shook his head. "No. You're thinking of the felinoid—I can't remember the race's name, though hers is Losinj—who reported a rebellion and was found to have the abilities one of those needs. I can't tell you what the abilities are, unfortunately; I'm not sure they've ever been mentioned."
Cortin started to say something, but the familiar sounds of a prisoner-escort team interrupted; seconds later, the team brought half a dozen handcuffed men and women in Imperial Navy working khaki into her office. "The first group of prisoners, Excellency," the officer in charge said. "Would you like us to stay?"
"That's not necessary," Cortin told him. "Just ask Matthew to have the rest of my team report, and wait till they arrive. In the meantime, I assume the one with what looks like major's leaves is in charge?"
"Yes, Excellency. He says his rank is Lieutenant Commander, but since his position is Captain of the IAS Columbus, he goes by that rank as well."
"Odd." Cortin turned her attention to the Lieutenant Commander/Captain while the trooper left to speak to her butler. "Which should I call you, Imperial?"
The man shrugged. "Whichever you want, Colonel. Either one's correct."
"And your name?"
"Ivan DeLayne, Lieutenant Commander, Imperial Terran Navy, ident code HERIE-1935-8586. Your Excellency."
Cortin chuckled, amused at the man's insolent tone.
"Excellency—" Odeon said behind her, sounding angry.
"Take it easy, Captain," Cortin said, smiling. "He doesn't know any better." She studied the Imperials for a moment, then said, "But I should caution you that my team is more protective of my position than I am myself, Captain DeLayne. It would be wise not to agitate them unnecessarily."
DeLayne stood silent, and Cortin nodded. He wasn't going to carry on a conversation, lest he inadvertently give her some information he didn't want to—but he wasn't reckoning with her truthsense. She didn't want to go to extreme measures with him unless she had no other choice—he wasn't a criminal, after all—but she did need some basic information, and yes-or-no questions would give her that whether he cooperated or not. "Were you looking for our worlds in particular?"
No answer, of course, but his reactions were clearly negative.
"No. All right." She turned to the troopers guarding the Imperials. "How far into our space did they get?"
"We caught them a parsec from St. Michael, Excellency. They sent off a message shortly after we came into sensor range, before we could destroy their transmitting antennas."
"Damn. So the Empire knows we exist." Cortin sighed, not bothering to hide it.
"What's so bad about that?" a young Imperial asked. "There's no reason to be afraid of the Empire!"
"Shut up, Conley!" DeLayne ordered.
"I don't think she ought to," Cortin said quietly. The other members of her team were entering by then, replacing the regular troopers. "Miss Conley—I can't read your rank insigne, to use your proper title—although my second in command disagrees, I believe we have every reason to fear an Empire we fled from some four centuries ago because our religious views were condemned. A number of conditions we've encountered since, causing changes in our way of life, can only make that condemnation worse, possibly—even probably—causing persecution that would wipe out the Kingdom Systems. Three ships held us then; now, we don't have enough to carry a tenth of our population to safety."
"Should you be telling them that, Excellency?" Odeon asked.
Cortin shrugged. "What can it hurt, Captain? They weren't looking for us in particular—but they did send off a message, so more Imperial ships will be coming. Which could doom most of our people, whether I talk to these honestly or not."
"NO!" Conley burst out. "The Empire's not like that, truly it's not!"
"Whether that statement's true or not, you believe it," Cortin said dryly. "Would you mind talking to me in more relaxed surroundings?"
The young Imperial didn't notice DeLayne's beginning objection or Tiny Pritchett's silencing of him. "Yes, sir, if you think it would help."
"At worst, it can't hurt." Cortin stood, addressing her team. "Take the rest to … hmm. The small guest suite, I think. Captain Odeon, Lieutenant Chang—let's talk to Miss Conley in the common-room of our floor."
As soon as the team and other prisoners left, Cortin signalled Odeon to remove Conley's handcuffs. When that was done, she smiled at the younger woman. "Since you're willing to cooperate, I see no reason to treat you as other than a guest. Would you care for anything to eat or drink?"
"Uh … do you have coffee?"
"Certainly. Sis, would you ask Matthew to serve us coffee in the common-room?"
"Of course. I'll meet you there."
"Thanks. Mike, Miss Conley—shall we go?"
As they left the office and went upstairs, the young Imperial said, "Excuse me, Excellency … may I ask you something?"
Cortin was amused at the not-quite-apprehension in her voice. "Go ahead."
"The ones who captured us called you the High King's Inquisitor. What does that mean?"
Cortin chuckled. "Exactly what it says. St. Thomas—this world—is the foremost planet of the Kingdom Systems, ruled by High King Mark. I'm the best Inquisitor in the Systems, so when the Sovereign's Inquisitor positions were established, I was persuaded—" bribed, she thought, would have been more accurate, "to take the position. So I'm the Systems' chief Inquisitor, though we all hold the same rank of Colonel. That's why the first captured Imperials were brought to me for questioning."
"Do you … hurt people?"
"If necessary, but you don't have to worry; I don't even make faces at people who cooperate with me."
Odeon chuckled at that; after a second, Conley joined in, and by that time they were at the head of the stairs, entering the common-room. The young Imperial caught her breath, looking around. "It's beautiful!"
"Yes, it is," Cortin agreed. "I don't really need this kind of luxury—at times I still feel guilty wearing boots on the carpet—but His Majesty says my position is such that I have to make a proper showing. Not that the High King's Inquisitor gets many casual guests; usually the only ones here are family and Enforcement Service friends."
"Uh-oh." Odeon made a quick grab, intercepting an orange streak heading for the guest. "Forgot to warn you about Tangerine," he apologized, stroking his prey's soft fur. To his combined relief and disappointment, Tanj was no longer fixated on him, though he told himself she did still like him best. "She's not called the attack kitten for nothing—she'll go after whoever's closest, just to get attention, though I'm her favorite target. And she likes to land about rump-high, with all claws out."
"Thanks for the rescue, then—I like cats, but that sounds painful."
"It is," Cortin assured her. "Worse now than when we first got her, since she's bigger, but even at six weeks old, she made herself felt." She gestured to the couch in front of the fireplace. "Have a seat. Matthew should be here soon with the coffee."
"Thank you." Conley sat down, Odeon joining her, while Cortin pulled up a nearby chair. "Will the others be okay?"
"Unless they do something stupid," Odeon said. "Like attack someone who's armed when they aren't."
Conley chuckled. "None of our crew is Sandeman—for one of them, it might work."
"The genetic warriors." Cortin frowned. "The ones you forced into the Empire—what, about thirty years ago?"
"That's when, yes, but we didn't force them," Conley objected. "We had to stop their invasion of Sector Five, of course—we couldn't let them just take over! I've talked to some, though. They weren't happy to be stopped, but when Ranger Medart showed them our weaponry and told them that if they joined the Empire they'd be able to use it, well, they jumped at the opportunity."
"I was impressed by how quickly and completely that war ended," Cortin admitted. "I'd like to meet one of your Rangers, especially Medart, if it weren't for the consequences—" Forget that caveat, she told herself. The Columbus had gotten a message out; the consequences would happen whether she met a Ranger or not. Though—she felt a sudden lift of hope—maybe a Ranger could mitigate the damage to the Systems. "Is there any way you could get him to intervene on our behalf?"
"Huh?" Conley gaped for a moment. "Sure, but you can do it yourself, and it'd mean a lot more coming from a Colonel than from a Spacer Third. Since you're obviously of Terran origin, you're legally Imperial citizens; you have the right of direct appeal to the Sovereign if you don't think there's any other solution."
Cortin stared at her, bemused. "It can't be that simple!"
They were interrupted by Sis and Matthew entering with the coffee service. Sis pulled up a chair opposite Cortin while Matthew served; when he left, Sis asked, "What can't be how simple?"
Cortin recapped the conversation, seeing Sis' growing hope. "What do you think?" she asked at last.
"The same thing I believe you do," the nun replied. "Either you or King Mark should call the Emperor and request Ranger Medart's assistance in determining our position in regard to the Empire."
"Mike?" Cortin asked.
"Agreed. Though His Majesty's not likely to either do it or be willing for you to, despite—" He broke off, glancing at the Imperial, and finished, "the regard he holds you in personally."
Cortin grimaced. "True; His Majesty's even more apprehensive about the Empire than I am. That means it's up to me."
Odeon nodded. "I agree."
"Good." Cortin turned her attention to the Imperial. "Now, Miss Conley, how do I go about contacting your Emperor?"
"You call the Palace—you must have ultrawave?"
"Yes. We avoid transmitting on your frequencies, of course, but we can use them; we do monitor. I believe your contact channel is One?"
"Yes, sir. Do you know the access codes?"
"No; do you?"
"Of course. I can punch them in for you, if you'd like."
"I'd appreciate that." Cortin led the younger woman to a small table beside the door; it held both a telephone and one of the rare private ultrawave terminals. "Go ahead."
Conley did so, rapidly going through a number of screens till she got one that seemed to read "Palace" in the odd Imperial English letters. "Okay, Colonel. When Palace Comm answers, explain to them; they'll probably transfer you to someone in the Admin Service, but if Emperor Davis was given our message, he may want to speak to you directly."
"Thank you, Miss Conley." It was only a few seconds before the screen cleared, to show a human operator.
"Palace Comm," the man said. "How can I help you?"
"I am Colonel Joan Cortin, High King's Inquisitor for the Kingdom Systems. The crew of your scoutship Columbus is in my custody—"
"One moment, please, Colonel," the operator interrupted. "His Majesty left orders that any communications about the Columbus be transferred directly to him."
The screen blanked for several seconds, then cleared to show a lean, gray-haired man Cortin recognized from intercepts as Emperor Charles Davis. "I understand you have information about one of my ships," he said calmly.
Cortin repeated her introduction, then went on. "I don't intend them any harm, Your Majesty, in spite of the fact that they intruded in our space and I fear what their arrival means for our Systems. Since we cannot resist you, I ask that you send Ranger Medart to ease your annexation of the Kingdom Systems; he seems to have done that quite well for the Sandemans."
"It isn't as inevitable or as horrible as you seem to think," the Emperor said mildly, "but if you have that kind of misapprehensions about us, I agree that sending a Ranger in would be a good idea. And James Medart is our cultural specialist, so he's the logical one; he'll be on his way within the hour. Should he talk to you, or one of your Kings?"
"That is something I cannot answer at the moment, Your Majesty. That is up to High King Mark; I do not know who he will choose to handle it." Probably her, she thought, considering she was acting Protector as well as High King's Inquisitor and Archduchess of High Teton—but she couldn't be certain.
"You're doing this without his knowledge?"
"Yes, because I believe it to be the least bad of the options open to us, now that contact has been made."
To her amusement, the Emperor looked dismayed. "I … see," he said slowly. "I hope Ranger Medart will be able to improve your opinion of us, Colonel. If your Systems should choose to become part of the Empire, I'd like you to be my guest in the Palace for a month or so."
Cortin inclined her head. "That is most gracious of Your Majesty. In that event, I would be honored."
"Until that time, then, Colonel."
The ultrawave screen went blank, and Cortin picked up the telephone handset, dialing High King Mark's private number. When that screen lit, she said, "Is Your Majesty aware that the Imperial scouts got a message out before they were captured?"
"I was not, Colonel. I assume that means we can expect more of them soon."
"I can guarantee it, sire." Cortin took a deep breath, released it slowly. "Rather than risk an automatic military response that could destroy the Systems, I took advantage of information one of my prisoners gave me. I appealed to the Emperor, based on their laws granting citizenship to anyone of Terran origin, and direct access to the Sovereign if necessary; at my request, he is sending one of his personal representatives to ease our inevitable absorption into the Empire."
There was a long silence, then the High King sighed. "If you think that best, Protector, I can hardly argue. I assume you'll take complete charge of the negotiations?"
"If that is Your Majesty's wish."
"You have resources I do not, and at least as much devotion to our mutual home; yes, it is my wish. I'll make the necessary announcement immediately."
"I feel inadequate, Your Majesty, but I will carry on as well as I can." Cortin stood silent for a moment, then returned to her seat. She'd hoped King Mark would take over, and was disappointed he hadn't. She had no diplomatic experience, and, she suspected, no skill in that field; how could she possibly bring about the sort of non-destructive Imperial takeover that would save the Systems and her Family?
"Joanie?" A voice finally broke into her abstraction.
"What is it, Mike?"
"Is there anything we can do to help?"
"I can't— Yes." Cortin straightened. "If I'm in total charge of our relations with the Empire, I'm going to work on the assumption that we can become a fully functional part of it, with as much independence as it allows—as much as I understand the Sandemans and now, according to you, the Traiti, have. Tell Dave to release the rest of the prisoners and ask Captain DeLayne to join us, then have Matthew assign them all guest quarters. Find out if their ship will fit into the Lodge's grounds, and if so have it brought here; otherwise, they're to have free access, including transportation, while it's at the spaceport. Miss Conley?"
"Yes, Colonel?"
"Do you have any idea how long it'll take Ranger Medart to get here?"
Conley shook her head regretfully. "I'm afraid not, sir. I don't know where he is, and I'm not even too sure where we were when your warship captured us. Captain DeLayne might know."
"Thank you." Cortin wasn't sure whether to hope for no delay or a long one. The first would get the suspense over with; the second would mean a longer true freedom for the Systems. "Will you be subject to any discipline for cooperating with me?"
Conley grinned. "Since it worked out, no—I might even get a commendation. If it hadn't, well … but I had a hunch I could trust you."
"I'm the last one to argue against following hunches," Cortin said, "but I should point out that doing so can sometimes get you in trouble."
"I know, sir. Uh … your King called you 'Protector'. What's that?"
Cortin studied her guest. "I'm not sure I ought to go into that particular subject, Miss Conley. It's a religious title, and since it was our beliefs that caused our Founders to flee the Empire, I think it wise to avoid religious discussion as much as possible."
"Yes, sir—though it may relieve you to know that religion's not a very big deal in the Empire, most places, and the Empire itself is strictly neutral." She paused. "I'm sorry, Colonel, but I have a bit of a personal problem. Is there a 'fresher anywhere around?"
"A what?"
"A 'fresher. Let me think—restroom? Bathroom?"
"That we have, yes," Cortin said with a chuckle. "We call them bathrooms. Sis, would you show Miss Conley the nearest one, then her guest room?"
"Gladly." Chang put her arm around the Imperial, smiling. "This way, Miss Conley—may I use your first name?"
"Please—it's Gwen."
The two had barely gone out a side door when Odeon led the rest of the team and their former prisoners through the main entrance. Since they were guests now, Cortin gave them a courteous bow before asking, "How much did you tell them, Mike?"
"Only that they're free; I thought you'd want to tell them the rest."
"Where's Conley?" DeLayne asked, his voice concerned. "Is she all right?"
"She's fine," Cortin assured him. "She asked for a bathroom, then Lieutenant Chang's taking her for a brief tour. They should be back in a few minutes. It's thanks to Miss Conley's cooperation that you're free and Ranger Medart will soon be on his way to the Kingdom Systems."
"Huh?" DeLayne, Cortin thought, looked like he'd been hit with a sledge-hammer.
"You heard me correctly," Cortin said. She explained briefly, amused by the changes in his expression from disbelief to comprehension, then to determination.
"For someone who's afraid of the Empire," he said when she was done, "you're making one hell of an effort to bring it in. If you'd like some help, I'll ask for a temporary assignment here when I report we've been released."
Cortin considered that briefly, then nodded. "Any preliminary groundwork we can lay should help reduce transitional problems. Thank you for your offer, Captain." She paused, then said, "The troopers who brought you in mentioned you were the first group. How many of you are there in all?"
"Four hundred ninety-eight. Except for me, they decided to bring you a random sample; the only Navy ship class that has this small a crew is a courier."
"I can't offer all of you rooms here, then. Is your ship small enough to fit on a ten-acre estate?"
"Yes—equatorial diameter's two hundred meters—but since you can't have a dock, we'd leave a rather large hole. Just how big depends on how solid the ground is."
"Fairly solid, and if the Kingdoms survive this, filling a hole will be no problem. As soon as King Mark makes his announcement, then, it might be a good idea to bring your ship here."
"Agreed, Excellency. My Marines can supplement your troops if you think there's a chance of attack, that way."
"Very little," Cortin said. "Being prepared is never a bad idea, though." She turned to Odeon. "Mike, would you call Brad, brief him, and ask him for the loan of any Strike Force troops not on anti-Brotherhood operations?" She grimaced. "Not that I like asking them to camp out this time of year!"
Odeon grinned. "Be glad to, Joanie—and I don't think they'll mind, for you." He went to the phone to call Colonel David Bradford, Commander and Bishop of the St. Thomas RES Strike Force.
DeLayne shook his head. "I don't know what you've been taught about us, but it must've been fierce. And you're on our side!"
"I am not on your side," Cortin said. "If I didn't believe aiding a peaceful transition to be the Kingdom Systems' only chance to survive as a society, I would be fighting you to the best of my ability. You may be able to change my mind—under the circumstances, I'd like nothing better than to believe the best of you and your Empire—but right now, I'm no more than a reluctant ally."
"A reluctant ally's better than an active enemy, Excellency." DeLayne grinned. "You must have an ultrawave, to've spoken to His Majesty; may I use it to report in and request assignment here?"
"Yes—it's beside the phone Captain Odeon is using. If you can, please also find out how soon Ranger Medart will be arriving, and ask that he be informed I have been named sole negotiator for the Kingdom Systems."