The dispensation helped, no doubt about that, but it wasn't enough! Even if they couldn't have children, they ought to be able to have some sort of stable relationship—and the only way she could see of giving it to them was to have her new family structure accepted. In fact, everything seemed to hinge on that, from maintaining social stability—although in a new form—to the continued existence of humanity in the Systems. Good as it would be for the parents and the Kingdoms as a whole, though, it would be best for the children—and for Special Ops troops, giving the trooper a real home and the family he married into a second father/husband—or in her case and Piety's, mother/wife—and provider. A mostly-male marriage might be a bit much at times for the wife or wives, though, unless it did include troopers …
Cortin felt briefly complacent at that; she could satisfy a shelter full of troopers without a bit of strain! Mike was right that God had been more than generous to her; even the attack had been only a prelude allowing her the increased pleasure men now gave her. It was too bad, in a way, that other women were limited to what she'd had before … but they couldn't know, any more than she had then, what they were missing. And they had something she no longer did: the hope, at least, of children. She couldn't help envying them that, the joys of home and family she'd never know. Still, she told herself sternly, she'd accepted that fact months ago, and without the consolations God had granted her since.
She thought about those consolations, frowning. There were a lot of troopers who'd been hurt as badly as she, some maimed far worse, without any corresponding compensations. Maybe Mike was right about that too, and God did have some kind of purpose for her—which was a frightening thought. If He had a purpose for anyone on Team Azrael, it should be Mike; he was the most devout, a natural priest, and he'd been raised by religious. Even though she was making a conscientious effort, at Mike's urging, to dedicate her entire life rather than just her pain to God, she didn't believe she could be called truly devout. Or, much as she enjoyed the exaltation of saying Mass, that she was a natural priest. Yes, Mike was far more suited to serving a divine purpose than she was.
And he was waking; this would be as good a time as any to bring up the part of her vision she was most frightened by. And maybe the part she'd liked best … When he started to sit up, she spoke. "I need to talk to you, Mike. Got a few minutes, or do you need to get up right away?"
"I've got all the time you want," Odeon said, settling back. "What's the problem?"
Cortin moved toward him. "I … didn't tell everything about what I saw when I was under. Part because it was too frightening, part because it was too … personal. I'm not even sure I can tell you."
Odeon took her in his arms. "Okay. The frightening part first."
"I … believe Sis now. Shannon is Shayan, or under his direct control." Cortin shivered. "I was in a prewar bio-lab—you know, the kind we've all seen pictures of?" When he nodded, she went on. "It was a Brothers of Freedom lab. I know that, somehow, even though there were no symbols and no one heard of the Brothers for another fifty years. Shannon was there, looking exactly like he does today, and he was engineering the worst of the plague strains. Working with his mind, the equipment was there just for show. And he was proud of himself; he'd just persuaded the ruler of one of those tiny asteroid colonies that if they used his plagues they could take over St. Monica without bloodshed. Mike, the Final War was no accident, or innocent mistake, or even a human horror—it was Shayan, turned loose!"
Odeon stroked her back, trying to comfort her. "The Bible does say he'd be set free for a hundred years before the Protector begins working against him." And that fit too; history said work on the plagues had started in 2464, and she'd graduated—begun work against him and his Brotherhood—in 2564. "So the Protector's here, and working—just not openly yet."
"But why not?"