Part 13 (2/2)

”Um.” Odeon thought for several minutes, then said slowly, ”I don't know if it's possible, but what you said about s.e.xual vulnerability gives me an idea. He's a virgin, and he had a strong negative reaction when you mentioned h.o.m.os.e.x, both of which his superiors must know about him. He's also beautiful--so how about turning him into a catamite for them?”

Cortin turned to him in surprise. She hadn't expected anything that creative; it certainly wouldn't have occurred to her. ”It should be possible, given the appropriate drugs and experiences--I like it.”

”What's a catamite?” the subject asked apprehensively.

”A young male prost.i.tute, especially one for older men.”

The subject looked sick. ”No, please--it's not right!”

”It isn't as if h.o.m.os.e.xuality were still banned,” Cortin said reprovingly. Thanks to St. Eleanor and the Compa.s.sionate Mother, s.e.xual orientation had been recognized as something one was born with, like blue eyes or black skin, and no more blameworthy; the Church even recognized stable pairings as equivalent to common-law marriage, though it still didn't grant them the sacrament of Holy Matrimony.

”Even if I were that, I'm no wh.o.r.e! I won't--you can't make me!”

”Wrong on both counts,” Cortin said pleasantly. ”We can, and on the physical level, you will find it most enjoyable. How you feel about it emotionally may be less pleasant, and I hope it is. It goes against my grain to release a Brother, and you may a.s.sure the rest that you will be the only one--but if I must let you live, even for my own purposes, simple justice demands that you suffer.” She turned to Odeon. ”I can handle the drugs and overall direction, but I obviously cannot partic.i.p.ate in the operation itself. We'll need more than you to partner him, too, if we want him properly promiscuous; if you'll check with the rest of the team, I'll check with my fellow Inquisitors.” She grinned. ”I'm sure several of them will find this project interesting enough to want to partic.i.p.ate as their own projects permit.” She looked around, then chuckled. ”These aren't appropriate surroundings, though; I'll have to arrange for some redecoration.” She turned to the subject. ”Under the circ.u.mstances, anonymity isn't appropriate either; what's your name?”

”Charles Powell,” he said sullenly.

”Very well, Charles.” She went to the instrument table and loaded a hypodermic, then returned to him. ”This is eroticine, a potent aphrodisiac. Under its influence, you will have no interest in anything except s.e.x, of whatever type your partner wants. And I a.s.sure you, you will find it most pleasant.”

Powell s.h.i.+vered as she made the injection, but said nothing.

”It will take effect in about five minutes.” Cortin turned to Odeon.

”I'm going to make arrangements for the redecoration, and ask whoever's around if they'd be interested in helping with his tutoring. You can wait if you want, or release him and begin his lessons when you see the eroticine taking effect. It'll definitely be noticeable--and as I told him, he won't be interested in minor distractions like fighting.”

Odeon nodded. ”I'll do whatever looks best when he shows a reaction.”

”Good enough.” Cortin left, thinking it would be useful if she could help in the redirection. Mike, plus any of the other men on the team and any Inquisitors who were interested, could handle the positive aspects of Powell's reorientation, but it would be even better if a woman could provide negative reorientation. She was incapable in one way, Piety in another, and you couldn't ask a civilian--even a paid-woman--to take part in something like this. There might be a few female enlisted personnel willing to take part, but by the time one could be found and brought here, it would be well after the Strike Force teams had left. Too late, in other words; she'd just have to hope the reorientation worked without that. She scowled, angry at herself. If she'd realized, rather than just read, that even a simulation of s.e.xual function could be this important, she'd have insisted on what little Dr. Egan had admitted to being able to do. Too late for that as well, now, though; she'd talk to Sis later, see what she could do when they had some time available. A synthetic v.a.g.i.n.al pa.s.sage shouldn't be more than minor surgery, well within a medic's abilities--and Sis would be able to understand why she wanted it, even knowing its limitations.

The Powell project proved even more popular with her team and the Inquisitors than Cortin had expected. And, after a night of considerable thought, she'd reluctantly decided that she couldn't direct it properly if she couldn't take part, so she'd turned direction of the project over to Illyanov, who'd promised to handle it as well as he could, as far as the subject was concerned acting under her instructions. She made it a point to spend some time in the observation center every morning, though, following Powell's progress.

The redecoration she'd ordered was in place the first morning; the third-stage room of Interrogation Suite Delta now looked more like a courtesan's room at the New Eden. Most of the equipment was still in place, she knew, but the surgical table had been replaced by a wide bed, the floor now had thick rugs covering tile, and draperies hid drug and instrument cabinets, with others turning the harsh brilliance of overhead fluorescent lighting into soft pastels. Powell was still apprehensive despite the eroticine, looking as if he wanted to pull away when the Inquisitor with him began to caress him, but unable to resist the drug. Cortin disliked seeing a Brother display even the little enjoyment Powell did, despite the fact his pleasure was drug-enforced, but she was pleased that his tutor was obviously enjoying himself.

The next day, Powell's apprehension had disappeared; when she entered the observation room, he was absorbed in his tutor's instruction.

Cortin found it amusing that he took to his lessons so readily, and that his instructors were so gentle and patient. It wouldn't surprise her too much, she thought, if they decided they wanted to keep him; she might even agree, for their sakes, if his testimony to his Brother superiors weren't so important to her plans.

The day after that, Chang and an Inquisitor were coaching him on relaxation techniques. By now, he seemed eager to learn, even more eager to try what he was being taught, and Cortin found her hostility to him diminis.h.i.+ng. He seemed more like an innocent boy now than like a Brother of Freedom, and she found herself hoping, when the Inquisitor had him roll over for a practical demonstration, that he wouldn't find it too distressing.

He didn't; when his instructor began penetration, his sounds and movements were ones of unmistakable pleasure, increasing rapidly as the Inquisitor rode and manipulated him. To Cortin's surprise, she was pleased when Powell's enjoyment peaked at his climax. When she left the observation room after telling one of the techs to have Chang report to her when the session was over, she found herself thinking Powell would be wasted on the Brothers--but told herself sternly that he would do well, for both her plan and herself.

An hour later, Chang joined her in the Inquisitors' Lounge. ”Good day, Captain,” she said. ”A most interesting experiment, though perhaps a bit too reminiscent of what was done to me for complete comfort.”

”If you want out, all you have to do is say so,” Cortin told her. ”The last thing I want to do is make things worse for you.”

”I do not,” the nun said with a brief smile. ”While it is reminiscent, the purpose is entirely different, and for a good cause. By G.o.d's grace, that relieves the discomfort. And as I said, I enjoy watching others enjoy themselves. So: is there anything more I can do to help?”

”Not with him, no. With others in the future, maybe.” Cortin went on to explain what she would have liked to do, and what she would like from Chang whenever it was possible. ”Can you do that?”

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