Part 42 (1/2)

”I think so, too.” Powell hesitated, then glanced briefly at Odeon and mouthed, ”What about Mike?”

Cortin shrugged, wis.h.i.+ng again that she and the rest of the team shared the telepathy Shayan had given Sis, Dave, and Mike. Even limited to themselves, unlike the telepathic Talent Ivan described, it would have been useful.

There was no point in fruitless wis.h.i.+ng, though, so she turned her attention to the meal and her hosts. ”This was very thoughtful of you and the rest, Captain Watkins--we all appreciate it. I, for one, have gotten more out of touch than I intended, that morning at the Eagle's Nest.”

”You have had a lot to occupy you, Excellency.” Watkins ventured a smile. ”It's an honor to have you with us--but I must confess it's a little unnerving sitting next to the Protector's Herald.”

”It's more than a little unnerving to be the Herald,” Cortin said. ”It might 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 a better chance of establis.h.i.+ng the Families.” She wished she could tell everyone here about her Family, and fief, and coming grandchild, but that would have to wait . . . ”Do you have an understanding chaplain yet?”

”Not exactly, but Lieutenant Bain hears Confessions at the Center often enough that we're in a lot better shape than we were.” This time, his smile wasn't tentative. ”Having the Communion of Promise, and the Herald 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 be the leaders of the Protector's . . . guardians, I suppose, for lack of a better word. Not to guard Him, of course, He won't need it, but to guard His people from the ones who don't accept Him and aren't willing to let those who do live in peace. As I told Colonel Illyanov once, as long as humans have free will, Enforcement's still going to be necessary.”

”Colonel Illyanov, yes.” Watkins looked at her quizzically. ”Four of the ones Sealed so far are Inquisitors, and two of them have gotten sudden promotions to the top rank; one other was already there. The rest of the Sealed are high ranking themselves or closely a.s.sociated with rankers--not at all like Jeshua and His disciples.”

Cortin shrugged. ”That's how I'm told it's supposed to be, this time around. This is the Final Coming, and if the Protector defeats Shayan, He'll be reigning over at least the Kingdom Systems; His mortal staff will 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 the fairly near future.”

”G.o.d willing, He'll come into the open soon--promotions or not, I want to 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 any promotions, but over half the staff of the Center--maybe three-quarters of the Inquisitors--mostly want Sealed. Myself included.”

Cortin's truthsense said they were understating the intensity of their desire for the Protector's chief benefit. Their yearning to be Sealed seemed to be every bit as strong as her desire to avoid the confrontation with Shayan she was sure would cost her her life--and if, she thought grimly, the h.e.l.l-King could manage it, with pain even greater than Mike's. She forced that thought back; the confrontation would happen, and a Strike Force member's job description practically guaranteed 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 who most wanted to take advantage of the Sealing. Their work, done properly, was a constant strain, with the accompanying urge to take out their frustrations on a subject--or not do what was needed to get vital information. The line between the Warrant-protected violence of their duties and the sin of giving in to personal weakness was a thin one, easy to rationalize crossing . . . ”I'm praying for you and everyone else who wants His protection,” Cortin said. ”And I'm beginning to believe being Sealed is going to be necessary for Inquisitors in His Kingdom. We may never be loved, but having truthsense and being in a constant state of grace, we should at least be trusted, and only criminals will have any reason to be afraid of us.”

Watkins smiled. ”Theoretically that's true now--but in fact, I'd like to be able to walk down the street in uniform and not have half the sidewalk to myself.”

Cortin chuckled. ”That's a problem I haven't had lately, but I remember 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 Special Ops, Captain, and I've been told I'll be going face to face with Shayan. That has to mean it's my death that'll signal the Protector's arrival. So no, I don't expect to see His earthly Kingdom.”

Watkins nodded. ”I understand, Excellency. But I'll pray for it anyway.”

”I'd appreciate that. Something else I was told was that piety was crucial--spread the word, would you?”

”Of course.” Watkins hesitated. ”What about--what you just said, that you'll have to face Shayan yourself?”

Cortin shrugged. ”If it had to be kept secret, I wouldn't have been able to say anything about it. Say what you want.” She took a deep breath. ”I'd rather not think about it any more right now, though, so would you mind if we change the subject? This breakfast looks and smells too good to spoil with that sort of discussion.”

”As you say, Excellency.” Watkins thought for a moment, then c.o.c.ked his 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.