"Dear G.o.d, no! If I had my way, she'd be at the Center with all the medical and professional support I could provide, not out in the field getting shot at, torturing herself by making her back trouble worse, and wasting her talents on criminals a second-semester student could handle. If I try to keep her there, though, I'm afraid I'll lose her--she's never said it in so many words, but if I read her right, she'd go rogue rather than give up her hunt for the Shannons."

"I think so too," Odeon said. "She wants revenge, and I can't blame her. So I'll help her, and protect her as well as I can . . . and so will the rest of Team Azrael."

"And any other Enforcement man who's been around her for long,"

Bradford said drily. "Interrogation isn't her only talent, I've discovered. She doesn't know about it, I found when I debriefed her--I can't help wondering if you've noticed."

"Noticed what?" Odeon asked, puzzled.

"How people, men especially, react to her."

Odeon chuckled. "That? That's easy! She's an Enforcement officer, so civs are apprehensive about her--more than they are of us, but until Sis came aboard she was the only woman officer. And our people like her, probably for the same reason."

"Your observations are accurate, of course--I'd expect that, from a Tracker. But not completely so, since I have yet to find an Enforcement trooper, officer or enlisted, who's been around her for more than a short time and only likes her. To the best of my research, any trooper who's spent as little as ten or fifteen minutes with her has fallen in love. I used to believe it was because of s.e.x--you know how generous she was with herself--but since her maiming, I found that theory was wrong." He grimaced. "The effect isn't even conscious, much less deliberate. When I went in to debrief her, I thought it would be routine, and that I was braced against anything she might try.

But she didn't, and I wasn't--by the time I left, I was in love with her, and so was every man on my team. I can't claim I don't feel any s.e.xual attraction for her, because I most definitely do, even though I'm a happily married man with a child. But my primary feeling for her is protectiveness, and I understand that's how the rest feel.

Including," he grimaced again, "Major Illyanov, the entire Inquisitorial staff of the Detention Center, one clerk-private, and the proprietor of the Eagle's Nest. Probably others as well."

"Mmm . . . that fits." Odeon hadn't thought about it that way, but now that Bradford had pointed it out, it did fit. The team's degree of protectiveness toward their commanding officer and their concern with how she came through the operation were both unusually strong; it was good to have an explanation. Especially one that also explained Bradford's presence--and Illyanov's, since he wouldn't normally be a member of a Royal party. "I hadn't realized, but you're right. So what do we do about it?"

"d.a.m.ned if I know," Bradford said. "There's probably nothing that can be done, since she's not doing it either deliberately or knowingly. I mentioned it to you primarily because you're her second and need to be aware of that effect. It could be useful--at least if a young civ falls in love with her, you'll know to send him to a recruiter!"

Odeon chuckled. "True--too bad all recruiters don't have a method that effective. It would've saved me a lot of time, when I had that duty."

"It would save the Service a lot of time, too, getting rid of ones who don't work out," Bradford agreed. "If she weren't such an incredibly talented Inquisitor, I'd want her on that duty--though she'd have to have a partner who could tell when it happened, because as I said, she doesn't know she's doing it."

Odeon frowned. "Do we want her to know? I don't like keeping things from her, but offhand I'd say she's better off thinking it's normal comradeship, with her back trouble as an explanation for any help or protection out of the ordinary."

"Which is what I was working around to asking you," Bradford said. "If you think that's best, we'll keep it between the two of us."

"Us and the team," Odeon corrected, "so they don't mention it by mistake. No one else is likely to say they love an Inquisitor, even if it's true. I know I'd never dare."

"Did you tell her before she got her Warrant?"

"No--she never seemed to want that kind of tie, so I didn't burden her with it." Odeon frowned briefly, then smiled. "Fortunately for me--and the rest of us, I guess--she doesn't need that to make love to us."

"I've heard," Bradford said appreciatively. "As well for you--us, if she's willing to go outside her team--that she doesn't put a daily limit on herself."

"She's never restricted herself to a given team, either," Odeon said.

"Only to Enforcement men. I'm sure she'd be willing to accommodate you and Major--I mean, Ivan."

"Good!" Bradford smiled. "Both our wives understand and accept the dispensation, of course, and so does Ivan's mistress, if that matters to her."

"I don't know if it does or not," Odeon admitted, surprised at himself.

"She's never mentioned it to me, or to anyone else I know of. If I thought about it at all, I guess I a.s.sumed she a.s.sumed any wives or girlfriends did accept it."

"Okay. Sis expects her to wake up tomorrow?"

"Late afternoon or early evening, yes."

10. Dream

Sat.u.r.day, 29 February 2572

Odeon was too edgy to sleep, too nervous about Joanie's prospects for recovery even to rest well, and more than a little apprehensive about the Brothers, so not long after midnight he gave up his useless attempt to sleep. He dressed quietly in the dim night-lighting, careful not to disturb the others--especially Piety, napping at the table. With a patient to care for and herself the only medical person who knew about Cortin's surgery, Chang slept grudgingly, not letting herself get comfortable for fear of not waking if Cortin should need her. Odeon didn't think it really necessary, but he wouldn't order anyone to be less conscientious in their specialty than they thought wise.

He slipped outside, chuckling ruefully at himself. Sis wasn't the only one taking unnecessary precautions; here he was putting himself on guard duty in a Royal residential compound with the Crown Prince and Princess present! If that wasn't redundant, he didn't know what would be; he'd have the proverbial s...o...b..ll's chance against anything that could get past the kind of security this place had. Still, he felt better when he'd made a tour around the shelter and settled himself in a lawn chair beside the door.

It was a mild night, a bit cooler than usual for this time of year--good sleeping weather, and the smell of the roses was relaxing.

Maybe out here he could catch a nap after all, so he wouldn't be a total loss in the morning--wouldn't want to be a zombie when Joanie woke up! And he was a Tracker, trained to wake instantly if he heard anything unusual. He settled deeper into the chair, closing his eyes.

The man approaching him was impossible. For one thing, he was inhumanly attractive, almost beautiful--but the clincher was his uniform. Enforcement did have some good-looking older officers; it had never had a white uniform, or a star for rank insigne, or a Kingdom emblem that looked like a spiral galaxy. This had to be a dream, then, so Odeon settled in to play along and enjoy it.

It seemed reasonable to a.s.sume that a star outranked even an eagle, so he stood, coming to attention as the man neared.

"At ease," the stranger said, smiling. "You need have no fear for your Joanie, Michael; she'll be fully recovered when she wakes."

"Thank you, sir." Odeon had no doubt the man knew precisely what he was talking about, and it was definitely rea.s.suring.

"But you'd like to know how I know." The man smiled again. "I'm an aspect of the Triune you worship, Michael, in a form I hope you'll find--" He broke off, chuckling. "Not comforting, certainly, or even rea.s.suring, but at least not threatening. I'm here to give you a heads-up, and maybe more if you want it. You've thought for a long time that Joanie's something special, haven't you?"

Odeon nodded, glad that this was a dream. If it'd been real, he would've been too stunned to function--because the man looked like an older Jeshua, and that was entirely too much for him to accept as reality with any degree of calm. As it was, he managed a nod. "Yes, I have."

"And you're quite right, she is." The man paused. "The White Fathers taught you well, but human interpretations do tend to modify even the most accurate prophecies. Can you accept both that fact, and the accompanying one that I cannot, for your own sake, give you all the details just yet?"

Odeon hesitated in turn, then nodded, slowly. "From anyone else, I'd say no--but from you, I can manage."

The man smiled. "You please me, my son. The White Fathers called this the Time of Chaos, though Time of Change would be more accurate, particularly where the lives of those on your team are concerned. Joan is the herald of the Promised One, and will act as that one's surrogate for a time, though she will not be asked to bear that burden permanently, and would be far happier if she isn't forced to acknowledge her temporary Protectorship."

Odeon frowned. "The Protector's Herald and acting Protector herself?"

That didn't seem particularly plausible, though he had to agree Joanie wouldn't enjoy being put in either position.

"You are a wise man, Michael. And properly skeptical, as a police officer must be." The man raised his hand. "But it's your devotion that has to take precedence now, and it has to be focused on her."

"With all respect, sir, I don't understand."

"Remain her friend and guide, as you've begun. Completing her destined tasks will be both difficult and dangerous, particularly since she must remain largely unaware of that destiny, and her powers must remain mostly latent, until the true Protector manifests." He gestured, and they were inside, standing beside the cot that served Cortin as a recovery room, with Chang on the other side.

The man kept his attention centered on Odeon, though he was clearly addressing Chang as well. "When she wakes, the final phase begins.

You will be severely tried, Michael in particular, by pain and loss great enough that you will be sorely tempted to reject me." He raised a hand to forestall Odeon's instinctive denial. "I said you would be tempted; I did not say you would succ.u.mb, though even Cardinals are not immune."

Odeon frowned again. In the light of last month's murder of Pope Anthony and Cardinal McHenry's near-unanimous election--he was now Pope Lucius--that had an ominous sound. "There was something fishy about the Papal election?"

"Let us just say that were his true ident.i.ty known, most people would prefer a fish in that position. The former Cardinal McHenry introduced himself to Sister-Lieutenant Chang as the Raidmaster."

Odeon stared at Chang, then at him. "The Raidmaster--are you saying that Shayan is the Pope?"