The Alembic Plot Part 23

"You are; you've done it. Act as auxiliary confessor and spiritual advisor to the Detention Center Inquisitors--I heard how much good you did."

"Gladly--but don't forget Dave; he's a Priest-Inquisitor too."

"I've already said I'd do it," Bain said. "And I'll probably have more time for that sort of thing than you will. I have a very strong feeling your primary job isn't going to leave you much time for anything else."

"Probably true," Cortin agreed. "I enjoyed helping, but if I'm going to do a good job as King's Inquisitor I may not have time to do that very well. And I'd rather not do it if I can't do it right."

"You'll be keeping busy, all right," Bradford told her, "with a whole Kingdom to draw from. The whole Systems, if your skills are necessary."

Cortin smiled. "Good!"

"And it might interest you to know that His Majesty doesn't interfere in his Household's private lives," Bradford said. "I don't know your preferences that well, but as long as you don't flaunt them, what you do is between you and your partner or partners. With the security provided at the Palace Compound and Harmony Lodge, you won't have to worry about outsiders who might be offended."

"No flaunting," Cortin promised. "I have very basic tastes; the only thing most people would frown on is the amount and variety of partners I like."

Bradford smiled. "Such as this group?"

Cortin returned the smile. "Exactly."

"And is Her Excellency interested now?"

"Her Excellency most certainly is."

When Cortin woke, shortly before dawn, she was still awed by her new position. That sort of promotion and transfer simply weren't supposed to happen--but all the Kingdoms would have Sovereign's Inquisitors, according to Brad; soon she'd be one of a dozen, different only in that she worked directly for the High King. That made it a little less daunting--and they were supposed to leave for New Denver today. She got up, bathed, and dressed, unable to suppress a thrill when she fastened the Colonel's eagle and the Household badge to her tunic.

12. Flight

Sunday, 01 Mar 2572

The flight started out as interesting, if uneventful. Cortin exchanged courtesies with the Royal couple, then joined her team, taking a window seat. It was her first flight--well, she thought, the first one she'd been awake for, anyway--and she wanted to see everything she could.

She'd had a pa.s.sing interest in archaeology once, so she was aware of pre-war population statistics, and knew the unnaturally straight lines of vegetation in the areas they flew over marked roads or buildings that no longer existed. For the first time, the two came together and became real for her. There had been so many of them! Dear G.o.d, it must have been unbearable, especially in the cities, crowded so closely together! But it was fascinating, seeing what they'd left . . . and they'd been thriving, not declining . . . She forced that thought aside, not for the first time. It was for Kings and Popes to concern themselves with the fact that humanity in the Systems was dying out, not for Enforcement officers.

As the plane droned westward, though, she discovered she couldn't dismiss it any longer. Whatever she'd experienced during her drugged recovery wouldn't let her. Like it or not, if she believed the vision or hallucination or whatever--and it didn't seem to be leaving her much choice in the matter--she'd been saddled with responsibility for reversing the decline.

It wasn't fair, she protested to herself. She was an Enforcement officer, not a secular or Church n.o.ble; she didn't have the kind of power or backing it would take to make the tremendous changes she'd been shown were necessary. Though, she admitted grudgingly, she'd also been promised help getting the power and people she'd need to do the job--and a Strike Team Leader/Inquisitor just promoted to High King's Inquisitor wasn't exactly powerless. Not popular, which she'd have to be to gain widespread support for the changes she'd be trying to make, but certainly not powerless.

Odeon's voice broke into her thoughts. "You look disturbed, Colonel.

Is it anything we can help with?"

Cortin wanted to say no, but nodded instead. She couldn't accomplish either of her objectives alone, and who better for her closest helpers than the team she and Mike had hand-picked? "I'm afraid so. See if we can use the conference cabin, please, so I can brief all of you at once."

"Right away." Odeon stood, then hesitated. "What about Colonel Bradford and Major Illyanov?"

"Fine. And civilian input wouldn't hurt, either, so see if Their Highnesses would care to join us."

Even on an aircraft of the Royal Fleet, s.p.a.ce was limited; the conference cabin was full when Cortin began the briefing. "Your Highnesses, gentles--thank you for coming. This is difficult for me to talk about, and it will be difficult for you to hear--but it not only has to be said, it has to be acted on."

She paused, scanning the group's faces. Yes, she had their full attention, though both Odeon and Chang looked apprehensive as well as attentive. That was all right; everyone here would feel the same before she got through. "While I was recovering from Lieutenant Chang's surgery, I had a series of what I can only call visions. You can decide the source for yourselves when you've heard what I have to say; my own opinion is that the medication I was under either allowed or forced me to put together a number of facts and arrive at some uncomfortable conclusions.

"Although we've eliminated war and most illness, leading in turn to the elimination of poverty in any sense the Terrans or prewars would understand, the human race faces two great--and immediate--threats.

One is the terrorists, particularly the Brothers of Freedom and their chief Raidmaster, Lawrence Shannon. Eliminating them is a job we've all--except Your Highnesses, of course--sworn to do, and the Strike Force has personal reasons to do it thoroughly and quickly."

She took a deep breath. "As bad as that threat is, the other is both worse and harder to deal with. Everyone knows, although no one wants to talk or think about, the facts of human infertility and a declining population. The only thing that has been done about that, and it was against considerable opposition, was the granting of Enforcement's s.e.xual dispensation. Although some families are blessed with numerous children, the average birthrate is less than two per family--and there are many people who choose not to have families at all. On the other hand--Major Illyanov, how many children have you fathered?"

The Dmitrian smiled. "Three by my wife, six more I am aware of by other women--the children live with us, their mothers nearby--and my mistress is currently with child."

"Seven children that wouldn't exist without the dispensation," Cortin said, "since Major Illyanov honors G.o.d in both word and deed. As does Bishop-Colonel Bradford. Colonel?"

"One by my wife, who's expecting our second," Bradford replied, frowning. "Three others I know about."

"Less prolific, but still well beyond replacement. No one else in this room has had any."

Princess Ursula echoed Bradford's frown. "Are you suggesting that we do away with families, or make all married women attempt to have children by Enforcement men?" she asked quietly.

"Not at all, Your Highness," Cortin said. "A strong family structure is necessary to a healthy society, and no woman should be compelled to have children, by any man. I'm not advocating anything of the sort.

What I am saying is that family structure has to change in response to changed conditions. Monogamy means that if either spouse is sterile, that couple will have no children--which is the case with almost half of our families. And that is as tragic for the individuals concerned as it is suicidal for the race." She paused. "Some infertile couples adopt, of course, and some seek Enforcement help, but neither is statistically significant. Fortunately, a few of those we've helped have been n.o.bles otherwise unable to fulfill their duty to provide heirs."

Prince Edward winced, then nodded, looking grim. A trooper's partner naturally shared his dispensation for that act, and if a child came of it, the trooper was almost always named the baby's G.o.dfather--though the legal father was the husband. "A service the Kingdom cannot acknowledge," the Prince said, "but one it's nevertheless extremely grateful for. Unfortunately, it's one that has been of no benefit to Ursula and myself. If you have something that might work, we'll be glad to consider it."

"Polygamy," Cortin said promptly. "More than two spouses improve the odds dramatically. Four to eight per family, ideally half men and half women, would do wonders for the birthrate."

"Be better for the children, too," Bain put in. "Like my brother's family--when he was killed, they lost the only adult male, and were left with one adult to care for three young children, no steady role model for the boys. Jo--the Colonel's way, that'd be a whole lot less likely. One parent's death would still be tragic, of course, but it wouldn't cause complete disruption."

"Which," Cortin said, "--and I admit to considerable personal interest here--would mean Special Ops personnel could have families. That includes my team, though according to what I saw it doesn't include me."

It wouldn't, Odeon thought regretfully, at least not until the real Protector manifested. Her family, until then, had to be all the humans in the Systems; she couldn't be restricted to a few individuals. If he were permitted a family, though, Joanie'd be as much a part of it as he could manage--and he had a pretty good idea how.

The Royal couple whispered to each other for a few moments, then Prince Edward looked back at Cortin. "We agree, Excellency. Show us how it can be done legally and without sin, and Ursula and I will bring others into our family." He raised an eyebrow at them. "Although we have come to love each other, it's common knowledge that isn't necessary to a Royal marriage, the primary purpose of which is to beget heirs. If a polygamous marriage can permit us to fulfill that purpose it is--as you pointed out--our duty."

Cortin swallowed, uncomfortable. "I intended no offense, Your Highness."

"None taken, Your Excellency. Although it's not by intent, we have failed." He turned to Bradford. "How do you think Enforcement personnel and their families would react to the idea, Colonel?"

"Favorably," Bradford said. "Many of us already have such arrangements informally, as I'm sure Your Highness knows, and quite a few--myself included--would like to formalize them."

"And most of the n.o.bility," the Prince said, "would be more intrigued than offended, if it could be shown not to be sinful. The Church would resist that, though, I'm afraid, and the landfolk would probably have strong objections."

"I know," Cortin admitted. "I don't have any choice but to try, though. I saw two possibilities in the vision, or whatever it was, and I've got to work for the second. In the first, humanity kept on the way it's going now, a slow decline with the terrorists getting stronger until they reach a critical number and Shayan takes them over openly, uses them to wipe out the rest of us in a final b.l.o.o.d.y ma.s.sacre, then amuses himself by torturing them to death one by one--which he and his demons continue, of course, once they're in Sheol.

"The other wasn't quite as clear, maybe because there's more than one way for it to go--I can't be certain. In it, we recognize the Satyr Plague for what it is--"