The Alembic Plot: A Terran Empire novel

by Ann Wilson

  1a. Raid Master

  St. Thomas, Wednesday, 19 June 2571

  "The goddamned Bitch is still alive, Raidmaster."

  Lawrence Shannon looked up from the shabby table he was using as adesk, smiling as one of his doubles threw a newspaper down in front ofhim. "Yes, excellent. Thank you, James."

  "Excellent!" the double snarled. "I said she's alive!"

  "You weren't mumbling," Shannon assured him. "If I'd wanted to killher then, I would have. I chose to let her live for now, maimed andcrippled; that will make it all the more satisfying when I do decide tokill her." He smiled in a way that made his double flinch. "Isn't itbetter to have her alive and in pain than dead and free of it? Doingsomething of the sort to her was my purpose in leading that raid, afterall."

  "But I thought--"

  "Yes, I know." Shannon raised his hand, silencing the other. "For youBrothers, the hospital was the target; for me, Cortin was. We bothaccomplished our objectives, without casualties and with bonuses. Ialso warned you from the beginning not to question my motives. I usemy powers on your behalf because our desires generally coincide andyour help is convenient, not because you are necessary to me."

  "You've made that clear often enough," the double admitted. "If I hadyour powers, though, I'd wipe out the Church, the aristocracy, andEnforcement so we could rebuild from scratch."

  "Which is precisely what you would be doing." Shannon chuckled at theman's turn of phrase. "But there's a much more artistically satisfyingway of accomplishing the same end--one which will also increase theirsuffering many-fold. Would you deny me that little pleasure?"

  "Not me, Raidmaster!" the double exclaimed hurriedly, his face paling.Shannon was normally a charming man, polite and undeniably attractive,his blue eyes and wide smile almost irresistible--but the double hadseen what happened to a Brother who cut short Shannon's enjoyment of apriest's slow death, and the memory still sickened him.

  "Good." Shannon read his subordinate's discomfort, and projectedencouragement. "You really must learn to control your sympathy for theoppressors, James. Our work is difficult enough without that."

  The Raidmaster smiled again, and this time his double relaxed. "Damnstraight! It just seems so slow!"

  "Anything worthwhile does take time," Shannon said, "and you have toexpect setbacks. The raid was a success, the whoring Bitch can't anymore, and she bears the marks of those who brought her justice on herhands. Not a bad accomplishment, all in all, don't you think?"

  "Not bad at all, Raidmaster. What's next?"

  "I haven't decided," Shannon said thoughtfully. "Any raid will be farmore hazardous now that Special Operations is going to be responding toall of them, and for at least a couple of months we can count on thembeing after revenge for the Bitch as well as doing their jobs. Sowe'll have to pick our targets carefully." He tapped one of the papershe'd been working on. "Until we get them out of our hair, we can't doanything constructive. And we haven't enough people or resources yetto strike their strong points, so while they're on an increased stateof alert, it might be interesting to attack their recreationalfacilities."

  The double smiled. "I like your thinking, Raidmaster. Such as thewhorehouses they frequent?"

  "Exactly," Shannon agreed. "Pass the word along to your colleagues,please. And I'd say you've had enough theoretical training; unless youneed specific help, I'll expect you to plan and carry out youroperations with as little inter-group communication as possible. Keepme informed, of course--but as far as others are concerned . . . well,what they don't know, an Inquisitor can't force them to tell."

  The double grimaced. "True--but can't you protect us against them?"

  Shannon smiled briefly. "It's more economical to use them. Anyoneincompetent enough to get captured deserves their attentions, and itsaves me the bother of reprimands. Maintain reasonable security, andyou should have no serious problems."

  "Yes, Raidmaster." The double would have expected Shannon to preferhandling his own punishments, but he did have a good point about makinguse of the Inquisitors. "If that's all, I'll go pass along yourorders."

  "Thanks, James." Shannon sketched the Brothers' sign in the air."Revenge for the oppressed."

  "And death to the oppressors." His double returned the gesture andleft.

  Shannon looked after him for a moment, then stood and went to look outthe window. He was putting a good face on it, he thought, but in truthhe'd like nothing better than to have Cortin dead and in Hell, or atleast lying bloody at his feet.

  But that wasn't to be. Not yet, at any rate, and perhaps never. Shewas as vital a part of this damnable charade as he himself, so he couldneither kill her nor cause her death, at least until after her role wasplayed out. He couldn't even use many of his powers against or aroundher until she realized and began using those that would be hers for atime. He could do anything short of those, however--and he smiled atthe delicious memory of torturing her.

  Although he'd known it would cause her relatively little distress--farless than a normal woman, and certainly far less than being brandedwith the marks he'd suggested to the Brotherhood--he had particularlyenjoyed raping her. It would have been even better if she'd been avirgin, but given what she was being primed to accomplish--whether sherealized it yet or not--and the fact that she was an Enforcementtrooper, he'd known better than to even hope for that. Still, it wasthe rape she'd get support and treatment for, when the marks were thereal violation; he could take comfort in that.

  He cursed the fate that was making him fight to preserve the prewarmorality. It served his purposes, true, but having to live by ithimself--having to set a God-loving example!--was going much too far.Celibacy was definitely not his style. At least his favoritesado-sexual activity was expected behavior from terrorists, even thosecalling themselves freedom fighters--but it was so hellishly longbetween opportunities, and when they did arrive, he usually had torestrain himself!

  The Brotherhood of Freedom had, after all, started out as the championsof freedom, family and justice they still claimed to be. To lead it,he had had to seem the most conservative of them all--and much as itwent against his personal inclinations, he reminded himself yet againthat it did serve his purposes. The Adversary's as well,unfortunately, but the Adversary was willing to tolerate his existence;those who were going to invade this universe could and would destroyhim as easily as any human. So he had no choice but to cooperate.He'd be living with these attitudes for some time yet, so he reallyshould learn to tolerate them, at least in others.

  That thought made him smile. In others, yes, as long as it was he whocontrolled their behavior--and really, he should only have to live bythose old standards himself for a brief time. There was ampleprecedent for a charismatic leader like himself to be free of theconstraints that bound his followers--and to be so with their fullknowledge and consent, because of his "special needs and burdens". Itwouldn't hurt, either, that they were already accustomed to the idea ofspecial dispensations, such as the one Cortin had enjoyed until he tookthe ability away from her.

  Cortin! Shannon fumed at that name. Maimed and crippled as he'd lefther, he had no illusions that she was harmless. Not that she could beand still fulfill her role, he conceded grudgingly, and the other twocurrently alive would be worse yet, never mind the one who would bereturning from his tomb. But they were all necessary to his continuedexistence, even though they would seriously reduce his influence. Theliving one yet to arrive in the Systems would provide no entertainment,but much of Cortin's and the other's development involved considerablestress and pain, for them and those around them--which he could andwould enjoy.

  Return to main storyline: 2. Hospital