by Ann Wilson
29. Arrival
The Columbus left as soon as Medart's ship, the Empress Lindner,entered orbit. Battle cruisers were far too large to land in a gravityfield as strong as St. Thomas', so he came down in one of the bus-sizedlanders along with a single pilot/bodyguard. There was none of thepomp or ceremony Cortin would have expected when royalty from one realmvisited another, but Colonel Bradford had decided to leave the StrikeForce troops in place because of the Brotherhood, so she was able tohave a proper military formation, at least. The Ranger had asked forinformality, though, so she and Odeon were the only ones who approachedto greet him when he emerged from the lander, followed by hisbodyguard. They exchanged introductions, and Medart confirmed Cortin'sguess that the small, dark-skinned blond was indeed one of thegenetically engineered Sandeman warriors, Lieutenant Keith DarElwyn.
"I thought it might reassure you," Medart said, "if I brought along oneof the people we were able to make friends with thirty years ago. I'vegot Traiti aboard as well, but I don't think you're quite ready forthem." Cortin, he thought, was more impressive in person than onscreen. She was medium height and build, with straight brown hair notquite shoulder length, wearing a gray uniform with wide-brimmedhat--but it was her eyes that struck him. They were a light brown,with pupils that seemed blacker than space, making them seem to lookthrough you.
Even though he was familiar with Odeon from DeLayne's tapes, he foundthe scar-faced man more impressive in person, as well. He was a goodtwenty-five centis taller than his commander, strongly built withoutlooking like a weight-lifter--and the nasty-looking scar that cutacross his right cheek down across his mouth and into his chin seemedmore a distinction than a disfigurement. Both officers reminded Medartirresistibly of predators, though he couldn't pinpoint the reason . . .maybe that neither seemed to have any softness about @.
It had become almost a reflex for Medart to do a quick mental scan ofanyone he met, and under the circumstances, he would've scanned Cortinand Odeon anyway. Mike Odeon was average, with no mind-screen orperceptible Talent other than very minor telepathy, but Cortin was anentirely different story. She had an incredible degree of Talentlatent, though it wasn't like any he'd felt before. Still, three and ahalf years of experience didn't make him an expert in Talentvarieties--especially human ones, since that had been discovered onlythe same three and a half years ago. Her mind-shield had a potentialstrength even greater than a Sandeman warrior's, though she wasn'tusing it. She also had a strong telepathic potential, of which she wasusing a small, untrained portion--and there was another aspect, one hehadn't encountered before, that it felt like she was using fully,though unconsciously. It was a good thing, Medart thought, that heseemed to be immune to that particular aspect. His focus had to remainon the Empire as a whole; he couldn't afford--and had no desire--tofall in love. He was less sure about Keith's immunity, though; even inthis brief a time, he could sense a sort of mellowing. He'd have tokeep an eye on that, he thought; if Cortin could affect a Sandeman,even one of the rare unshielded warriors like Keith, it might be riskyletting her around too many Imperials. On the other hand . . . Hemade a mental note to contact DeLayne when he was alone, and find outwhat effect she'd had on the Columbus' captain and crew. Probablynone, since he hadn't said anything about it, but best to double-check.
Cortin nodded to the Sandeman. "It would be interesting to get hisreactions to the Empire first-hand."
Keith bowed. "I look forward to the opportunity, Excellency."
"Let's go inside, then, and I'll introduce you to the rest of myFamily. Did Captain DeLayne brief you about the satyr plague?"
Medart chuckled. "And the Strike Force's . . . ah . . . 'enthusiasticuse of their dispensation' was how he phrased it. We've both beenimmunized, just in case."
"Yes. Well, one of the social changes it triggered, and I helped bringabout, was an expanded family structure to allow for the variety itmakes you want, while still providing stability for the family itself,particularly the children. Family Cortin began as Strike Force TeamAzrael, and most of it still is, though we've added a civilian wife. Iunderstand Sandemans have a strong privacy drive?"
"Very strong," Medart agreed. "Why?"
"Because Family behavior on the private floors can best be described asuninhibited, particularly in the evening," Cortin said. "If opensexuality disturbs him--either of you, for that matter--I'm not surewhat to do. You want to learn about us by living with us, and that'spart of our life. I certainly can't put one of your rank in a fieldshelter!"
Medart chuckled. "It doesn't disturb me, but Keith would probably beseriously embarrassed." He enjoyed it, in fact, any time he was on oneof the worlds where open sexuality was the norm--particularly whereoutsiders were allowed or encouraged to participate. That was apreference, though, that Sandemans definitely didn't share. He turnedto Keith. "Would you prefer staying in a shelter or the lander,Lieutenant? With this many troops around us, I don't think I need afull-time bodyguard."
"I would, thank you, sir. The lander, by preference."
"You will still eat with us, won't you?" Cortin asked. "We don'tgenerally relax to a degree that should make you uncomfortable untilafter supper, and the ground floor is always formal."
"I intend no disrespect, Excellency. I will be honored to eat andvisit with you."
"Good. Let's go introduce you to my Family, then." As they enteredthe Lodge and went upstairs to the common-room, she said, "To spare yousome confusion about our names: we're all Cortin, since Mike andSis--the senior spouses--wanted me as head of the Family and named itafter me. So Mike's full name is Michael Patrick Cortin-Odeon, butaround the Lodge or people who know us well, he's Mike or CaptainOdeon, depending on circumstances. Since he's also a priest, you'llsometimes hear adults calling him Father, too."
They were in the living room by then, where the rest of Family Cortinwas waiting; she introduced them to the visitors. "Medic-LieutenantEleanor Chang, otherwise known as Piety or Sis, the Family's seniorwife; Elizabeth Bain, our only non-military adult;Communications-Lieutenant Joseph Pritchett, generally called Tiny;Armorer-Lieutenant Anthony Degas; Demolitions-Lieutenant David Bain,who's also a priest like Mike and myself, and my backup Inquisitor;Lieutenant Charles Powell, who doesn't have a rated specialty but actsas my secretary; and our children--legally my grandchildren, though Ican't have children of my own--Luke, Kateri, and George."
The two Imperials bowed slightly, and Medart did the honors on thatside. "I appreciate your hospitality," he said then. "Before ColonelCortin and I can do any productive negotiating, we have to get to knoweach other and each other's cultures. You got a bit of a head startwith Columbus' crew, but I'm deliberately starting from scratch, exceptfor the little Captain Odeon gave Captain DeLayne."
"With first names," Cortin said, "since you're guests in our home;formality's for the ground floor and below. Unless that's consideredrude in the Empire, which I doubt from the time Gwen spent with us."
"In the Empire it'd be undue familiarity from anyone except my parents,other Rangers and the Sovereign, or the captain of my ship. But thisisn't the Empire, so we go by your customs, not ours; I'm Jim."
Cortin smiled. "Joan--maybe Joanie, if you feel like joining ourFamily pleasures some evening." She sobered. "Now--I agreed to letyou observe me, and I won't go back on that. But I do have to warn youthat, based on people's reactions here, you'll probably find my workextremely unpleasant. I know Mike didn't go into detail about it withCaptain DeLayne, because I told him not to." She paused, using thebrief silence for emphasis. "I'm an Inquisitor, Jim. Normally, thatwould mean I question prisoners, and turn them over to a judge forsentencing if the evidence warrants it. But I'm the High King'sInquisitor, which means I deal only with capital crimes of the worsttype; by the time a criminal gets to me, he's either proven toostubborn for other Inquisitors, or he's under sentence of prolongeddeath. So far, only one of the prisoners remanded to me has leftHarmony Lodge alive, though with your help the
re may be a second."
"That," Medart said with considerable aversion, "sounds like youtorture people to death."
Cortin nodded. "If you restrict 'people' to 'heinous criminals',you're absolutely right. I have never gone beyond first stageinterrogation--simple questioning--with an innocent, and truthsenselets me be sure the ones I kill are guilty of the crimes they're sentto me for." She smiled, grimly. "I don't even have to ask, since theyall protest their innocence."
"You said that if I help, a second prisoner may leave here alive. Whathelp do you need?"
"Your mind-probe, if it doesn't require the subject to answerverbally." Cortin explained about her anomalous prisoner, then said,"It's probably nothing significant, but I don't like it. I can't findthe Inquisitor who conducted the interrogation, and there are rumorsthe judge who sent him here has ties to the Brotherhood. If he wassent here under false pretenses, my prisoner should be freed and givencompensation, and the judge should take his place."
"The probe doesn't require verbal answers, no," Medart said. "Andsince it may mean saving a life, I'll have a probe unit and operatorcome down." He paused, considering. He could use telepathy to get theanswers she wanted, and her own--the small part she was callingtruthsense--would let her be sure he was reporting accurately. Thatwould be quicker than waiting for the probe; the question was whetherit would be wiser to reveal his Talent or not mention it at all.
Use it, he decided. Odeon had read about the White Order rebellion andCorina's discovery of human Talent in Medart, then others; he might notknow the details, but he did know the basics, and it would be logicalto assume he'd passed the information along. "That'll take severalhours, though, and there's a faster way, if you want. I'm a fairlypowerful telepath; I can read his mind as well as a probe could, andI'm already here."
It was Cortin's turn to hesitate. Mike had mentioned Talent, yes, andhad some telepathy himself, with anyone Shayan had mind-touched; theidea wasn't that odd, really, and Medart's offer would save time.Still--"Are you reading my mind?"
"No. I touched you briefly when we met, enough to learn you're not athreat, though I did pick up a little other information. Otherwise Iseldom use it unless I'm invited or there's an emergency."
Her truthsense agreed, so Cortin nodded. "If an injustice is beingdone, it should be corrected as soon as possible; I accept." Sheturned to her people. "Mike, Dave--would you take that prisoner to myfirst-stage room, please, while I give our guests a brief tour of thedungeon?"
"Of course," Odeon replied. The two left, and Cortin turned back tothe Imperials.
"I was making an assumption perhaps I shouldn't," she said. "It's yourchoice to accompany us or not, Lieutenant DarElwyn."
The Sandeman bowed. "I would be honored to do so, Excellency."
Something in his tone made Medart glance at him, then do a quicksurface scan. Cortin's unconscious Talent had done its job; thewarrior was thoroughly in love with the High King's Inquisitor. That,Medart thought, was a complication he didn't need--but it was also onehe couldn't do anything about, so disregard it for now. Just make apoint of getting hold of DeLayne as soon as he could find a reasonableexcuse to be alone.
"Let's go, then." Cortin led them outside and to the rear of theLodge, where a cave-like entrance led underground. Above it wascarved, "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."
"Dante's Inferno," Medart commented. "I take it, then, that this isthe prisoners' entrance?"
"Right," Cortin agreed. "It isn't really Hell, of course, but it isthe anteroom to it for most. A few escape that by repentance, but theystill have to pay the worldly penalty for their crimes. What happensafter that is between them and God; all I can do is administer theSacraments and finish my work. If it's an interrogation, though, I'llkill one who repents as soon as he's given me any information he has."
"You don't even try to save them?" Medart asked.
"Their bodies, no," Cortin said, leading them down the stairs. "I toldyou, I get the stubborn ones. By the time I break them, forcing themto live longer than necessary would be a torment even Cortin the Bitchdoesn't care to inflict."
At the end of a short passage, she unlocked a massive door and gesturedthem through, into a dimly-lit corridor with doors along both sides,some with small lights turned on above them. "These are the holdingcells, under constant monitoring from the Detention Center and periodicmonitoring by my people. Troops from the Center take care of theprisoners, then remove bodies when Lt. Bain and I are done. Or ourcolleagues, who're free to use any suites we aren't, if they have anoverflow."
Halfway down the passage, she unlocked another door. The corridor thisone led to was wider and brightly lit, much like a hospital corridor;she led them straight across, to a door marked "Interrogation SuiteAlpha", the "In Use" light above it lit. "This is the one I normallyuse," she said, ushering them into the office area. "The layout'sstandard, but it's bigger than usual, and I have quite a bit ofexperimental material, both equipment and drugs. This section'snormally used for Stage One, which rarely happens here; today isunusual." She nodded in the direction of her desk, and the chair infront of it which held a prisoner, flanked by Odeon and Bain. "He'sall yours, Ranger. Do you need anything special?"
"A chair would help, so I'm not standing over him; otherwise, no."
Cortin nodded; Bain left, returning moments later with a folding chairhe handed to Medart.
Medart positioned himself facing the prisoner and introduced himself,then said, "Colonel Cortin has some doubts about your guilt, but sinceyou can't talk, she can't question you very well. I can read minds, soI don't have that problem. Do you understand?"
The man nodded, but his attention was obviously on Cortin, not theRanger, and when Medart mind-touched him, all he could read was fear.He turned to the Inquisitor. "He's so terrified his fear's acting likea mind-shield, Colonel. I could get through, but not without hurtinghim; is there anything you can do to calm him down?"
"That might be difficult," Cortin said. "I generally want my subjectsafraid of me; this is the first time I've had to calm one." She turnedher attention to the prisoner. "Kenneth Shelton, isn't it?"
The man nodded.
"I'm sure you've heard the usual rumors of my methods; it should be atleast a little reassuring that you're dressed and in this suite'soffice, rather than hanging naked in my third-stage room."
The man nodded, mouthing, "Why?"
"Because, as Ranger Medart said, I have several reasons to wonder aboutyour guilt." She detailed them, ending with, "In particular, the factthat you were muted, apparently to keep you from talking to me--whichis the only way I can rely on my truthsense for more than basics.Since I knew the Imperials were coming, and that they had a method--notthis one, though it should be equally effective--which would insuretruthful, if non-verbal, responses, I used my prerogatives as HighKing's Inquisitor to postpone your execution, and if my suspicionsprove well-founded . . . we'll see. Does that help?"
Shelton nodded, with Medart agreeing. "The fear's going, Colonel; hisprimary emotion now is gratitude. When that fades a bit, I'll be ableto read him."
"Gratitude," Cortin said, her expression grim. "He is innocent, then.I owe you a personal debt, Ranger; I have never harmed, much lessexecuted, anyone who didn't deserve it. Thanks to your assistance,this will be no exception."
"My pleasure," Medart told her. "I think he's settled down enough nowfor me to get through without hurting him." He closed his eyes,concentrating on the prisoner. The light touch needed for simplecommunication wouldn't be enough, though he paused briefly at thatlevel to reassure the other. *Mind-reading is painless, Shelton, eventhough I'm going to have to go deep enough for direct memory access. Iwon't trigger the memories, so you won't have to relive them; I'll justcopy them to myself, so I can report accurately to Colonel Cortin.*
*I understand.* The man was nervous--naturally enough, Medartthought--but there was a basic stability to him the Ranger liked. *Dowhat you
have to--and God bless you for helping.*
*Thank you.* With that Medart went deeper, scanning memories until hefound the relevant set. They were as nasty as he'd expected, and hedidn't like the idea of experiencing them, but to accomplish hisobjective, he didn't have any choice. He "reached" for them.
Cortin watched with interest but no understanding as the Ranger closedhis eyes and sat silent for several seconds. Then he shuddered,tensing, and she watched sweat stains appear and grow on his uniform.By the time he opened his eyes again, almost half an hour later, he wassoaked and looked exhausted. She wanted to ask about her prisoner, butinstead said, "Are you all right?"
"I will be after a bath and nap," Medart replied. "Reading minds,except for the simplest communication link, isn't like reading a book;on any deeper level, you share the other person's thoughts--andfeelings. This is my third time at that level, and by far the worst."He stood, moving around to ease the kinks. "He's committed no crimes,Excellency, but he's damnsure been the victim of some. He's a smallfarmer; he and his family were sitting down to supper one evening whenseveral men broke in. They restrained him while they killed hisfamily, making sure he knew they were making it look like he'd done it.Then they changed to Enforcement Service uniforms and took him to anInquisitor. The Inquisitor already had his report written; all he didwas cut out Shelton's tongue and beat on him to make it look like he'dresisted interrogation. When that was over, the phony troopers tookhim to a judge, who sentenced him to you. The rest you know."
Cortin didn't even try to hide her cold anger. "I'll need moredetails, of course, but that's enough to let me get started. Did youhappen to check on whether he was given the Sacraments?"
"Sorry, that didn't occur to me." Medart sent a quick thought. *Wereyou?*
*By the Brotherhood?* Shelton's thought was bitter. *No, and I needthem--if you'll help me with Confession?*
"I'm Omnist, not Catholic," Medart cautioned aloud. "I'll relay if youwant, though, and anything you say will be treated as Empire Secret."
*Please.* Shelton's thought held a trace of wan humor. *You have someof my memories; why should I mind you reporting some of my sins?*
Medart managed a chuckle. "Put that way, no reason."
* * * * *
"Ego te absolvo in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen."
"Amen," Medart relayed. "He'd like Communion, but without a tongue,he's not sure he can manage." He paused, grinned. "We may be able tohelp there, too, unless you've developed regrowth techniques."
"Spiritual Communion is as effective as physical," Cortin reminded thepenitent, "though I admit it doesn't feel the same." She turned to theRanger. "We don't have regrowth, no, but I do seem to remember hearingsomething about it. Only as a rumor, though."
"It's quite real. We learned it from the Traiti, and the Lindner'sdoctors are trained in the procedures. Initiating it will only take afew hours, but the regrowth itself usually takes a couple of weeks."
"A couple of weeks shouldn't matter, and since it's possible, it shouldbe part of his restitution. What will such treatment cost?"
"No charge," Medart said. "Civilians can be treated at militaryfacilities if there's space and what they need isn't otherwiseavailable, both of which are true here." He turned to the Sandeman."Take him up to the ship when Colonel Cortin's done, please."
"Yes, sir."
"I'd suggest," Cortin said, "that you bring a few extra bodyguards whenyou come back, Lieutenant. I learned from an earlier prisoner thatImperials are at the top of the Brotherhood's wipe list, and after theway he helped me today, Ranger Medart will be a particular target."
Medart frowned. "A Sandeman warrior's the only bodyguard I've hadsince they joined the Empire. And that's more symbol than necessity."
"In the Empire, maybe so," Cortin said. "For a major Brotherhoodtarget, a bodyguard is a necessity. And it's a good idea to havephysically impressive ones. Despite their abilities, Sandemans areimpressive only to people who're familiar with them, which most in theKingdom Systems aren't."
"You're the expert here," Medart said. "Okay. Keith, ask ColonelWilliamson to detail me a standard team, the biggest people he's got.You'll be in charge of them, of course. Oh, and you can stay aboardovernight, if you'd like."
"Yes, thank you, sir." Keith smiled briefly, and Medart hid a grin.If Cortin thought he should have physically impressive bodyguards, thatcould be arranged--along with an evaluation of the Systems' attitudetoward non-humans, though if it weren't for her suggestion, he'd haveput that off for a while yet.
"Good," Cortin said. "Captain Odeon, would you show Ranger Medart tohis suite, please?"
"Of course, Colonel. If you'll come with me, sir?"