by Ann Wilson
21. Anguish
Tuesday, 17 March 2572
Cortin prayed harder than she could remember ever having done before,resting her hands on Odeon's forehead and chest, trying to give him herown strength in case the Protector didn't see fit to intervene. Mikehad been hurt doing the Protector's work; if there was any justice atall, He should at least give Mike back the strength he'd spent on Hisbehalf!
Apparently He agreed, Cortin thought as she felt her hands grow warm.It was a peculiar sensation, as if she were absorbing energy throughevery pore of her body, channeling it, and pushing it into Odeon. Hiscolor improved and he grew visibly stronger, until he seemed to be in anatural sleep rather than a coma. At that point the power-flowstopped; as she removed her hands, he opened his eyes.
When he did, his expression frightened her almost as much as hisweakness had. Granted that no one could face Shayan and come out of itunchanged, Odeon looked . . . haunted. "Dave told us about it," shesaid softly. "So you don't need to talk about it unless you want to."
Odeon sat up, putting his arms around his knees, looking away from her."I don't want to--but you deserve to know that I may not be much goodto you any more. I . . . I don't think I could go through thatagain--I don't see how you and Sis can even consider facing him."
Cortin sat beside him, resting her hand on his shoulder. She'dsuffered the most physical damage, but it was obvious from Sis' andMike's reactions that she'd been spared Shannon/Shayan's worst torment:he'd kept out of her mind! There was therapy, good therapy, forphysical rape; she didn't know of any at all for mental rape. They'ddo what they could for him, that went without saying, but she couldonly hope that'd be enough. "We'll help you, Mike, all of us. And theProtector loaned me some of His power to bring you out of the shock hesent you into. Just remember what you told me: God will test us to ourutmost limits, but not beyond them. I know words aren't a lot of helpright now, but maybe the Family will be--if you feel up to it, we'regathered in the common-room. Ivan's here too; I thought he might havesome ideas how to help you, and he's the one who suggested I might beable to borrow some of the Protector's power."
Odeon didn't really feel like seeing anyone, or even moving--what hedid want was to crawl in a hole, pull it shut, and forget what had beendone to him. But he couldn't betray Joanie that way, or the rest ofthe team and Family; reluctantly, he straightened and got out of bed."Okay . . . I'll be out as soon as I get dressed."
"I'll stay; you're in no condition to be left alone." Cortin grimaced."I remember how it was when I woke up a couple of times on the flightto New Denver. The medics did their best, but I'd have given anythingfor a familiar, friendly face. At that point I couldn't have handledanything else, and I don't suppose you can, either--but at least you'vegot the faces."
"Yeah." Odeon went into the bathroom, took some refuge in the routineof getting ready for a new day. Joanie was right about one thing, atleast; he didn't feel able to handle much of anything, especiallyintimacy of any sort. He wasn't at all sure he could manage to getthrough his responsibilities as Team-Second and heir to High Teton,though he'd have to try. He couldn't simply shrug off his duties justbecause he felt like he'd been torn into contaminated shreds, howevermuch he might prefer to. Joanie'd put him back together, at leastenough to go through the motions, and he could trust God to keepproviding the support he needed to carry out his priestly functions.As Shayan had said, the priest's character--or, in his case, feelingsof contamination--had no effect on the validity of the Sacraments.
When he and Cortin got to the common-room, it took an effort to lethimself be embraced and kissed; it was impossible to return either morethan perfunctorily, and he couldn't bring himself to touch Illyanov'soffered hand. Their understanding and sympathy helped, but he feltdistanced, remote--as if Shayan had stolen something in the process ofbreaking him. He looked around at them, shook his head. "Sorry,people. God willing, I'll get over this soon--but right now the onlything that seems to have any meaning at all is that I . . . don't feellike I'm worthy of you. Nothing else matters."
"Which is foolishness," Chang said. "Natural, after what you have beenthrough, but foolishness nonetheless. You will indeed get over it, asJoan and I have. Soon, as you say, if the Protector sees fit to aidyou further--which would not surprise me, since He chose you as one ofHis first two priests."
"In the meantime," Illyanov said, "I am intrigued by this abilityShayan has given you to dissolve his compulsions. Does it apply onlyto those he imposed on Miss Blackfeather, I wonder, or can you dissolveany of them?"
The change of subject was a relief for Odeon. "I don't know," he saidthoughtfully. "Either way makes sense. He wouldn't want me dissolvingany except hers, but he probably only used one technique for all ofthem, since he didn't know--then--that he'd be giving anyone theability to eliminate his tampering. We'll have to find out, when wehave someone else who's been conditioned."
"And I'm intrigued by what he called mental speech," Bain said. "Histouch wasn't exactly what I'd expected--more awesome than repulsive,until he started working on Mike. And can you imagine how much moreconvenient it'd be if we could communicate that way? Especially inaction?"
"He said if I survived, that would be just the first taste of mentalspeech," Odeon said. "I don't know if he meant just me, or the Family,or the Protector's Sealed--I wonder. Dave, do you think his using itwith the two of us could've sensitized us enough we could use itwithout him?"
*I don't know,* Bain replied silently, *but it's worth trying. Can youhear me?*
"No need to shout," Odeon said. "I heard you fine." He looked aroundat the rest. "Anybody else pick it up?"
Cortin shook her head. "Not me."
"I heard nothing either," Illyanov said. "That is unfortunate; itcould have been useful."
Cortin frowned. "It sure would. Sounds like it's something he does toyou by touching your mind, maybe sort of a side effect. What he did tome was purely physical, but--Sis, he mind-touched you; did you hearDave?"
Chang nodded. "Quite clearly."
"I think I'm jealous--for the first time, I wish he'd mind-touched me."
"Never wish for that," Odeon said grimly. "It's a horrible sensation,though the mind-speech itself isn't bad."
"The mind-speech is called telepathy," Illyanov said. "It is part ofwhat is called Talent, and some rare humans have enough to be trainedin its reliable use."
Cortin stared at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about--how do youknow that?"
Illyanov smiled. "Since our discussion something over a week ago, Ihave spent my free time studying the Terran Empire. That particularfact came to light approximately three years ago, when the firstnon-human Ranger found Talent in one of her human colleagues."
"The Empire!" Cortin exclaimed. "Why in God's name would you studythem?"
"Because I had a dream that night. It may have been no more than anormal dream, triggered by that discussion--but dreams, in this group,have of late been highly significant. Treating this one as such can dono harm, and may be of benefit, so I have been doing so."
That was an even better change of subject, and Odeon seized on it."What was the dream about?"
"The arrival of two Imperial ships, a small one followed by a large.As I say, the dream may have been nothing more than a reaction toJoan's and my discussion, but my personal feeling is that we should bepreparing for contact--perhaps soon."
Odeon frowned. "Before the Final Coming? Or are you saying they'repart of the Final Coming? I don't think I like that idea--it makes meuncomfortable."
"I do not like it either, and it may not be the case. Some of the moreambiguous prophecies of that time, however, can be interpreted in thelight of such contact without distortion. What, for instance, if theGreat King references were to the Emperor rather than the High King?And what if the Protector's form, which 'none can predict', is nothuman, or at least not fully so?"
Odeon winced. "Ouch, Ivan! That's even worse."
"I am not sure I find it so," Illyanov said thoughtfully. "As I toldJoan, I believe contact will be to our ultimate benefit, though it maybe difficult at first."
"Even if one of them turns out to be the Protector?"
"Perhaps especially then."
"Do you think Shayan would permit contact if that were the case?" Changasked.
Illyanov chuckled. "I doubt he will have any choice in the matter.The Protector will manifest, that promise is definite; the questionsare only when, and in what form."
"Yeah." Odeon shook his head, rubbing the scar across his mouth, andstood. "I'm sorry, Joanie, folks--I need to be alone for a bit."
"Go ahead, then." Cortin watched him leave, frowning. "Sis--is that agood idea?"
"I believe so, for him. I would be happier if I could be sure he wouldbe doing something other than brooding over his mishandling--but Ithink it likely he will be; Ivan's speculation could well be providinghim that distraction."
"I can distract him further," Illyanov said with a smile. "I receivedword late yesterday that my resignation has been accepted; with YourGrace's permission, I will ask Michael's help in setting up the HighTeton Enforcement Service. Although I do not as yet belong to it,since it has not been officially established."
Startled, Cortin looked at him more closely. He was in uniform, butnow she saw he wasn't wearing any rank or territory insigne. "That canbe remedied easily enough. As of right now, there is a High TetonEnforcement Service, commanded by Colonel Ivan Petrovich Illyanov.You're out of uniform, Colonel--would somebody please get him an eaglefrom my room?"
A grinning Powell left on that errand while Illyanov stared at her. "Ihad not expected to be put in charge, Joan. To the best of myknowledge, no Enforcement Service has ever been headed by anInquisitor, due to the public opinion of our profession."
"You're the only qualified candidate," Cortin said, grinning. "HighTeton's not going to be a normal fief, Ivan; all of the top people aregoing to be Sealed. And I think the public perception of a SealedInquisitor is going to be different from that of a non-Sealed one. Soyou're it."
"Yes, Your Grace." Illyanov managed a seated bow. "I will, of course,do my best."
"Prince Edward's going to administer it for the present; get in touchwith him for what you need. And coordinate with Brad and his StrikeForce people." Cortin grinned again. "I don't think you'll have muchtrouble finding recruits, in spite of the climate. Just make sure youfind a good-sized house for your Family, and let me know when thewedding's to be."
"Of course. If you are free at the time, I would be honored to haveyou perform the ceremony."
"I'll make a point of it," Cortin assured him. "Oh, thanks, Chuck."She took the silver eagle from her aide and pinned it on Illyanov'scollar. "There, that's better. Not quite complete yet, but that'llhave to wait till you can have territorial insigne made. Go to it,Colonel."
"As Your Grace commands." Illyanov rose, smiling. "If I may beexcused, I shall find Michael and discuss the details with him."
* * * * *
Odeon had gone to his room, made himself a cup of herb tea, and settledinto his seldom-used armchair to do some thinking. First Shayan'storture, now Ivan studying the Empire and speculating that theProtector might be one of them--maybe not even human!
He stared at the circled-triangle marks on the backs of his hands,deeply disturbed. Maybe he shouldn't be--the idea of the Protectorcoming from the Empire didn't seem to bother anyone else, though Joanieseemed troubled by the prospect of contact itself. He couldn'tpinpoint why it bothered him, since the Protector was by definitiondivine rather than human, loaning Joanie some of His or Her powers; whyshould he be disturbed if the physical body was non-human as well?
After several minutes' thought, he still couldn't come up with areason; all he knew was that he didn't like it. He finished his teaand was going over to the prie-dieu when there was a knock on his door.
He swore briefly under his breath--the last thing he wanted right nowwas a visitor!--but went to answer it, grinning despite himself when hesaw Ivan's new collar insignia. "Come in, Colonel sir.Congratulations."
Illyanov bowed, smiling. "Thank you, Michael. May I ask yourprofessional assistance?"
"Of course. What can I do for you?"
"Assist me in setting up the Enforcement Service Her Grace has justestablished, with me as its head."
"Gladly. Want some tea?" Odeon put his problems out of his mind, morethan ready to exchange them for some practical work.
* * * * *
Friday, 20 March 2572
Cortin lay awake, seriously worried about Odeon. Physically there wasno longer anything wrong with him, but his emotional state wasfrightening. He'd withdrawn further into himself over the past threedays, despite Ivan's efforts to draw him out, not speaking except whenit was necessary to carry out his duties, not smiling at all evenduring the Protector's services--though he still seemed to take somepleasure in those--and not touching anyone when it could possibly beavoided.
There had to be something she and the rest could do to help, she kepttelling herself, but nothing they'd tried so far had had any effect.She, Sis, and Betty had all tried to get him to make love, but he'drejected all of them with what seemed like near-panic, and she and Siswere agreed on the reason: he was convinced Shayan had somehowcontaminated him, and was terrified of passing that contamination on tothem. That, as Sis had told him, was foolishness--but they couldn'tconvince Mike.
Maybe that would change when Blackfeather arrived and he broke thecompulsions Shayan had put her under. If she was really suitable forthe Protector's staff, uncontaminated despite being the Hell-King'smistress, then Mike surely couldn't keep believing a single contact hadfouled him too badly to touch.
On the other hand, Cortin admitted to herself, that sort of beliefdidn't have to have logic behind it, and she wasn't the one who'd feltShayan's mind invading hers. How would she have felt if she'd had toaccept the invasion the way Mike had, without resistance, to savesomeone else? She and Sis had been able to fight, at least, except forSis' compelled welcoming of Shayan's last embrace--and yes, that hadbeen the worst of the nun's memories, even knowing the welcome had beencompelled. So had Mike's, in a way . . . but his had beenself-compelled, by the knowledge that if he didn't allow the invasion,he'd be condemning Blackfeather to Hell.
Cortin scowled at that. She'd changed her opinion of Hell, recently.A place of eternal torment no longer seemed to square at all with theidea of a just and merciful God. Purgatory still didn't bother her; ofcourse you'd have to pay for your sins before being admitted to Heaven,but even the longest and most painful stay there would end in triumph.Hell didn't end, and if what Mike was suffering was a fair sample, itstorments went beyond any punishment a human could justly deserve.Even, she thought, the ones she'd sent there believing they did deserveit. If she had it to do over again, she would, of course; thesentences she'd carried out were legally mandated, and she'd carriedthem out, as required, when she'd satisfied herself she'd gotten all asubject's useful information. Terrorists were a cancer on society andhad to be eliminated for its health--but maybe she could use her skillto persuade them to repent. She could manage a mortal approximation ofHell, and that, even if it meant some extra time under her hands, wassurely better than an eternity of the real thing! She couldn't do awaywith Hell, but she could certainly see that Shayan got as few of hersubjects as possible!
That, however, didn't solve the problem of how to help Mike. The bestpossibility, she was convinced, was the emotional unity sex nowincluded, but his fear of touching made that possibility a remote one.Still, if she--or Sis, or Betty--could become one with him, show himthat he wasn't fouled . . . but the only way she could think of toaccomplish that was feeding him eroticine, which he wouldn't takevoluntarily, and it wouldn't be right to trick him even to help him,would it?
Finally deciding that she wasn't going to be able to s
olve the problemby herself, she got out of bed and dressed. She'd accepted aninvitation to say morning Mass at the Cathedral--probably extended outof curiosity about her stigmata, she thought, but still a chance totalk about the Protector's coming and offer the Communion of Promise tocivilians. Lucius/Shayan hadn't forbidden it yet, to her considerablesurprise; if he didn't after today's, she'd have to do some seriouswondering why.
She'd decided to make it a Mass for Travelers, with Edward and Ursula,Bradford and Illyanov starting for High Teton's capital, Archangel, atnoon, and she was pleased to see all of them at the Cathedral when sheand her team arrived. There was no time to talk; traffic had beenheavier than expected, and they were running late, so she and herconcelebrants, Odeon and Bain, had to go straight to the sacristy toget ready.
Bradford had agreed with her about ruining a uniform or set ofvestments every time she said Mass, and since the purpose of herstigmata was to show Jeshua's approval of her, she couldn't wearbandages, so he'd given her permission to wear just the alb, cincture,stole, and sandals. It looked odd to someone used to seeing mostly achasuble, but no odder than her fellow priests in uniform and armed; itwas being weaponless that bothered her most, though she didn't want toruin a perfectly good gunbelt and holster, either.
The Cathedral was packed, highly unusual for a weekday and flattering,though it also made her nervous--until she got to the altar and beganthe ceremony. As always, she lost herself in it, unaware of hersurroundings except while she was giving Communion. It was then sherealized there were far more troopers here than their percentage of thepopulation would have suggested, which pleased her.
It pleased her even more after Mass, when she explained the Protector'simpending arrival and offered the Communion of Promise, thatpractically all of them came forward to accept it. Some civilians didso as well, though most held back, their expressions either uncertainor disapproving.
When that was over too and she'd gotten dressed, ready to leave, shediscovered that the troopers had other plans. Their spokesman, CaptainWatkins--she remembered him, the first person she'd administeredConfession to--invited her and her team to a breakfast banquet at theRoyal Hotel. She accepted gladly; much as she enjoyed being at HarmonyLodge, the idea of going out for breakfast was appealing. It wouldn'tdo Mike any harm, either, and she liked the idea of having Chuck seenas one of her team by people who might otherwise have trouble believingit.
And Chuck did seem to enjoy being at the head table. "Having fun?" sheasked with a smile.
Powell returned the smile. "Sure am! Last time I saw some of these, Iwas a prisoner remanded to the High King's Inquisitor, thinking sureI'd be dead in a day or so--now I'm your private secretary, Sealed tothe Protector, and happy as a puppy with a new kid. What more couldanyone ask?"
"Put that way, nothing," Cortin replied, amused. "You also look betterin uniform than you did in civvies, if that matters."
"I think so, too." Powell hesitated, then glanced briefly at Odeon andmouthed, "What about Mike?"
Cortin shrugged, wishing again that she and the rest of the team sharedthe telepathy Shayan had given Sis, Dave, and Mike. Even limited tothemselves, unlike the telepathic Talent Ivan described, it would havebeen useful.
There was no point in fruitless wishing, though, so she turned herattention to the meal and her hosts. "This was very thoughtful of youand the rest, Captain Watkins--we all appreciate it. I, for one, havegotten more out of touch than I intended, that morning at the Eagle'sNest."
"You have had a lot to occupy you, Excellency." Watkins ventured asmile. "It's an honor to have you with us--but I must confess it's alittle unnerving sitting next to the Protector's Herald."
"It's more than a little unnerving to be the Herald," Cortin said. "Itmight not be as bad if I had a decent idea what I was supposed to do,but I'm operating by guesswork. On the other hand, it'll give me abetter chance of establishing the Families." She wished she could telleveryone here about her Family, and fief, and coming grandchild, butthat would have to wait . . . "Do you have an understanding chaplainyet?"
"Not exactly, but Lieutenant Bain hears Confessions at the Center oftenenough that we're in a lot better shape than we were." This time, hissmile wasn't tentative. "Having the Communion of Promise, and theHerald being an Inquisitor, helps even more. Civs still don't like us,but I've seen less hostility since you got the stigmata."
"That'll help," Cortin said. "I have a feeling we're supposed to bethe leaders of the Protector's . . . guardians, I suppose, for lack ofa better word. Not to guard Him, of course, He won't need it, but toguard His people from the ones who don't accept Him and aren't willingto let those who do live in peace. As I told Colonel Illyanov once, aslong as humans have free will, Enforcement's still going to benecessary."
"Colonel Illyanov, yes." Watkins looked at her quizzically. "Four ofthe ones Sealed so far are Inquisitors, and two of them have gottensudden promotions to the top rank; one other was already there. Therest of the Sealed are high ranking themselves or closely associatedwith rankers--not at all like Jeshua and His disciples."
Cortin shrugged. "That's how I'm told it's supposed to be, this timearound. This is the Final Coming, and if the Protector defeats Shayan,He'll be reigning over at least the Kingdom Systems; His mortal staffwill have to have some top-level experience to give Him proper support.I think you can expect to see more promotions and other changes in thefairly near future."
"God willing, He'll come into the open soon--promotions or not, I wantto be Sealed myself."
"And he's not the only one," an intense-looking young Lieutenant said."Don't get us wrong, Excellency, we sure wouldn't turn down anypromotions, but over half the staff of the Center--maybe three-quartersof the Inquisitors--mostly want Sealed. Myself included."
Cortin's truthsense said they were understating the intensity of theirdesire for the Protector's chief benefit. Their yearning to be Sealedseemed to be every bit as strong as her desire to avoid theconfrontation with Shayan she was sure would cost her her life--and if,she thought grimly, the Hell-King could manage it, with pain evengreater than Mike's. She forced that thought back; the confrontationwould happen, and a Strike Force member's job description practicallyguaranteed death in the line of duty--the questions were when and how,not if.
It didn't surprise her particularly that it was the Inquisitors whomost wanted to take advantage of the Sealing. Their work, doneproperly, was a constant strain, with the accompanying urge to take outtheir frustrations on a subject--or not do what was needed to get vitalinformation. The line between the Warrant-protected violence of theirduties and the sin of giving in to personal weakness was a thin one,easy to rationalize crossing . . . "I'm praying for you and everyoneelse who wants His protection," Cortin said. "And I'm beginning tobelieve being Sealed is going to be necessary for Inquisitors in HisKingdom. We may never be loved, but having truthsense and being in aconstant state of grace, we should at least be trusted, and onlycriminals will have any reason to be afraid of us."
Watkins smiled. "Theoretically that's true now--but in fact, I'd liketo be able to walk down the street in uniform and not have half thesidewalk to myself."
Cortin chuckled. "That's a problem I haven't had lately, but Iremember the feeling. I hope you get it soon."
Watkins frowned. "That doesn't sound like you expect to, Excellency."
Cortin looked at the red crossed daggers on her sleeve. "I'm SpecialOps, Captain, and I've been told I'll be going face to face withShayan. That has to mean it's my death that'll signal the Protector'sarrival. So no, I don't expect to see His earthly Kingdom."
Watkins nodded. "I understand, Excellency. But I'll pray for itanyway."
"I'd appreciate that. Something else I was told was that piety wascrucial--spread the word, would you?"
"Of course." Watkins hesitated. "What about--what you just said, thatyou'll have to face Shayan yourself?"
Cortin shrugged. "If it had to be kept secret, I wou
ldn't have beenable to say anything about it. Say what you want." She took a deepbreath. "I'd rather not think about it any more right now, though, sowould you mind if we change the subject? This breakfast looks andsmells too good to spoil with that sort of discussion."
"As you say, Excellency." Watkins thought for a moment, then cockedhis head. "I've heard Your Excellency is fond of animals?"
"Yes--why?"
"Because I have some six-week-old kittens I'm trying to find homes for.They aren't purebred, though."
"Neither am I," Cortin said. "Yes, I'd like one--two, if that isn'tbeing greedy."
"Two is fine. Whenever you have time to come by and pick them out."
"How about as soon as we're done here?"
"My pleasure, Excellency."
* * * * *
For the first time since learning to drive, Cortin was glad that herrank meant she sat in back while someone else drove. She'd ended upwith three of the kittens, and they were currently playing tag aroundher lap and shoulders, with occasional forays to Odeon. He didn't seemto object to their touch, and once he even seemed to smile for a secondwhen the orange tiger-striped one purred in his ear. He hadn't workedup to stroking them yet, but she hoped that would only be a matter oftime; animals were supposed to be good therapy, as well as being fun.
Even the kittens, it seemed, couldn't distract her completely fromMike's problem. He needed help too badly for her to ignore it long,especially when he was right there beside her! He'd helped her whenshe was hurting; why in God's Name wouldn't he let her help him? Shehadn't planned on saying anything, but--"Mike, you must know I'mwilling--eager!--to do anything in my power for you."
"I do know," he said. "Blast it, Joanie, you can't think I enjoyfeeling this way--afraid of intimacy with any of you!"
"I don't think that at all," she said quietly. "I just wish I couldconvince you--you must know you can't contaminate us. You're Sealed,Shayan can't corrupt you! Sis and I both know it feels that way, butbeing victimized doesn't make you any less of a person."
He was silent so long she didn't think he was going to answer, buteventually he said, "Intellectually, I understand that. It's myfeelings that're the problem."
"Yes, they are." Cortin paused. "Have you considered taking theadvice you gave me once? Offer the hurt to God. You're Sealed to theProtector, His priest as well as Jeshua's; if you ask, I'm sure one orboth Aspects will help you gladly."
"I've done that, of course. So far it hasn't worked." He glanced ather, then looked down at the kitten. "Joanie, it's not just whatShayan did to me. That's most of it, but . . ."
Cortin frowned. "What Ivan was saying about the Protector?"
"Yeah."
"I'm scared of the Empire myself--but if it does produce the Protector,I'd have to change my opinion." She sighed. "I'm not sure whether Ilike the idea or not, but if that's the way it works out, I'll have toaccept the fact. So will you."
Odeon nodded grimly. She was acting Protector, so he couldn't arguethat; if the true Protector came from the Empire, he would have toaccept Him or Her, and by extension, His or Her place of origin."Should I start studying the Empire, then, like Ivan did?"
Cortin cocked her head, thoughtful, then she nodded. "It might not bea bad idea at that. I don't have any cosmic hunches or anything, butif he's right, we should be prepared."
"Okay. It might actually be interesting."
Cortin smiled. "I'll settle for that. Between study and little Orangethere, you may be combat-ready in time for the convent defense."
"I hope so. But she's Tangerine, not Orange." Odeon's lips twitchedin a near-smile as he kept the kitten from crawling into the sleeve ofhis tunic. "I'll work it out, Joanie--just give me time."
"All I can, but we know there isn't much, and I will not have someoneunder my command going into combat in that condition. If you haven'tstraightened out by noon Tuesday, either you let me try unity or you'reon the inactive list until you do recover."
"Permanently, you mean," Odeon said bleakly. "After Wednesday, if youremember, His Majesty has ordered me out of action."
"Of course I remember," Cortin said. "Mike, please believe I don'twant to hold you back--but I won't let you go into action with almostno chance of survival unless there's absolutely no choice."
"I understand."