They had Odeon upstairs and settled in his own bed by the time Illyanov arrived, and the entire Family--the rest awakened by the commotion--was gathered in the common-room. Bain had told them he'd really rather not have to go through the story more than once and Cortin had agreed--his distress was obvious--so it wasn't until she'd apologized for getting Illyanov up on what now looked like an unnecessary errand that Bain explained.

As Cortin listened, she got coldly angry. Shayan was Evil personified, true, but that gave him no right to torment one of the Protector's priests! Kill him, yes--they'd all die, and Service personnel didn't expect an easy death--but not subject him to agony for no reason except the sheer pleasure of it! She was the one who was supposed to face Shayan--and while the thought frightened her, she'd prefer it to having her people do so.

When Bain finished, she said as much. "Not that he had any choice under the circ.u.mstances, of course," she added. "But try not to get into similar circ.u.mstances, would you all?"

"We will try," Chang said. "However, we may have no more choice in the matter than Mike was given. And you should be in no hurry to face him."

"I didn't say I was in a hurry," Cortin said. "It might be a good idea to get it over with, though. I won't win, but I might weaken him enough the Protector will."

"You must not act prematurely," Illyanov cautioned, frowning. "You have not found all the Protector's staff yet, and there may be other things equally necessary to prepare His way."

"Not act prematurely!" Cortin snorted. "At this point, I don't really feel like I'm acting at all, much less prematurely!"

"If you consider leading an attempt to completely restructure society, extracting information vital to fighting terrorists, and preparing for the Final Coming, to be not acting, I will agree. Otherwise, I would suggest you remain cautious; direct action against Shayan, unless unavoidable, is the Protector's prerogative."

Cortin grimaced. Illyanov's quiet, level words stung; she knew she was doing useful work. It was just that it didn't feel like enough, and--especially after Mike's gratuitous torture--she wanted to take the sort of direct action Ivan said she shouldn't. It would be so satisfying to go into the Vatican during a major public event and challenge Lucius with his real ident.i.ty, force him to take some sort of action that would prove it! He'd kill her, of course, but it'd be worth it to bring him into the open. "I'll behave, I promise--even though I'd rather not. Isn't there anything I can do for Mike?"

"There is a possibility," Illyanov said thoughtfully. "According to some of our writings, the Herald may be granted the use of some of the Protector's powers--your truthsense may be one. Another should be healing--though as Michael's problem is not life-threatening, that might not come into play."

"It might, though, since it's due to Shayan's direct action." Cortin stood. "I've got to give it a try--if it works, I'll be back with him."

For Shayan's reaction: 20a. Decision

21. Anguish

Tuesday, 17 March 2572

Cortin prayed harder than she could remember ever having done before, resting her hands on Odeon's forehead and chest, trying to give him her own strength in case the Protector didn't see fit to intervene. Mike had been hurt doing the Protector's work; if there was any justice at all, He should at least give Mike back the strength he'd spent on His behalf!

Apparently He agreed, Cortin thought as she felt her hands grow warm.

It was a peculiar sensation, as if she were absorbing energy through every pore of her body, channeling it, and pushing it into Odeon. His color improved and he grew visibly stronger, until he seemed to be in a natural sleep rather than a coma. At that point the power-flow stopped; as she removed her hands, he opened his eyes.

When he did, his expression frightened her almost as much as his weakness had. Granted that no one could face Shayan and come out of it unchanged, Odeon looked . . . haunted. "Dave told us about it," she said softly. "So you don't need to talk about it unless you want to."

Odeon sat up, putting his arms around his knees, looking away from her.

"I don't want to--but you deserve to know that I may not be much good to you any more. I . . . I don't think I could go through that again--I don't see how you and Sis can even consider facing him."

Cortin sat beside him, resting her hand on his shoulder. She'd suffered the most physical damage, but it was obvious from Sis' and Mike's reactions that she'd been spared Shannon/Shayan's worst torment: he'd kept out of her mind! There was therapy, good therapy, for physical rape; she didn't know of any at all for mental rape. They'd do what they could for him, that went without saying, but she could only hope that'd be enough. "We'll help you, Mike, all of us. And the Protector loaned me some of His power to bring you out of the shock he sent you into. Just remember what you told me: G.o.d will test us to our utmost limits, but not beyond them. I know words aren't a lot of help right now, but maybe the Family will be--if you feel up to it, we're gathered in the common-room. Ivan's here too; I thought he might have some ideas how to help you, and he's the one who suggested I might be able to borrow some of the Protector's power."

Odeon didn't really feel like seeing anyone, or even moving--what he did want was to crawl in a hole, pull it shut, and forget what had been done to him. But he couldn't betray Joanie that way, or the rest of the team and Family; reluctantly, he straightened and got out of bed.

"Okay . . . I'll be out as soon as I get dressed."

"I'll stay; you're in no condition to be left alone." Cortin grimaced.

"I remember how it was when I woke up a couple of times on the flight to New Denver. The medics did their best, but I'd have given anything for a familiar, friendly face. At that point I couldn't have handled anything else, and I don't suppose you can, either--but at least you've got the faces."

"Yeah." Odeon went into the bathroom, took some refuge in the routine of getting ready for a new day. Joanie was right about one thing, at least; he didn't feel able to handle much of anything, especially intimacy of any sort. He wasn't at all sure he could manage to get through his responsibilities as Team-Second and heir to High Teton, though he'd have to try. He couldn't simply shrug off his duties just because he felt like he'd been torn into contaminated shreds, however much he might prefer to. Joanie'd put him back together, at least enough to go through the motions, and he could trust G.o.d to keep providing the support he needed to carry out his priestly functions.

As Shayan had said, the priest's character--or, in his case, feelings of contamination--had no effect on the validity of the Sacraments.

When he and Cortin got to the common-room, it took an effort to let himself be embraced and kissed; it was impossible to return either more than perfunctorily, and he couldn't bring himself to touch Illyanov's offered hand. Their understanding and sympathy helped, but he felt distanced, remote--as if Shayan had stolen something in the process of breaking him. He looked around at them, shook his head. "Sorry, people. G.o.d willing, I'll get over this soon--but right now the only thing that seems to have any meaning at all is that I . . . don't feel like I'm worthy of you. Nothing else matters."

"Which is foolishness," Chang said. "Natural, after what you have been through, but foolishness nonetheless. You will indeed get over it, as Joan and I have. Soon, as you say, if the Protector sees fit to aid you further--which would not surprise me, since He chose you as one of His first two priests."

"In the meantime," Illyanov said, "I am intrigued by this ability Shayan has given you to dissolve his compulsions. Does it apply only to those he imposed on Miss Blackfeather, I wonder, or can you dissolve any of them?"

The change of subject was a relief for Odeon. "I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "Either way makes sense. He wouldn't want me dissolving any except hers, but he probably only used one technique for all of them, since he didn't know--then--that he'd be giving anyone the ability to eliminate his tampering. We'll have to find out, when we have someone else who's been conditioned."

"And I'm intrigued by what he called mental speech," Bain said. "His touch wasn't exactly what I'd expected--more awesome than repulsive, until he started working on Mike. And can you imagine how much more convenient it'd be if we could communicate that way? Especially in action?"

"He said if I survived, that would be just the first taste of mental speech," Odeon said. "I don't know if he meant just me, or the Family, or the Protector's Sealed--I wonder. Dave, do you think his using it with the two of us could've sensitized us enough we could use it without him?"

*I don't know,* Bain replied silently, *but it's worth trying. Can you hear me?*

"No need to shout," Odeon said. "I heard you fine." He looked around at the rest. "Anybody else pick it up?"

Cortin shook her head. "Not me."

"I heard nothing either," Illyanov said. "That is unfortunate; it could have been useful."

Cortin frowned. "It sure would. Sounds like it's something he does to you by touching your mind, maybe sort of a side effect. What he did to me was purely physical, but--Sis, he mind-touched you; did you hear Dave?"

Chang nodded. "Quite clearly."

"I think I'm jealous--for the first time, I wish he'd mind-touched me."

"Never wish for that," Odeon said grimly. "It's a horrible sensation, though the mind-speech itself isn't bad."

"The mind-speech is called telepathy," Illyanov said. "It is part of what is called Talent, and some rare humans have enough to be trained in its reliable use."

Cortin stared at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about--how do you know that?"

Illyanov smiled. "Since our discussion something over a week ago, I have spent my free time studying the Terran Empire. That particular fact came to light approximately three years ago, when the first non-human Ranger found Talent in one of her human colleagues."

"The Empire!" Cortin exclaimed. "Why in G.o.d's name would you study them?"

"Because I had a dream that night. It may have been no more than a normal dream, triggered by that discussion--but dreams, in this group, have of late been highly significant. Treating this one as such can do no harm, and may be of benefit, so I have been doing so."

That was an even better change of subject, and Odeon seized on it.

"What was the dream about?"

"The arrival of two Imperial ships, a small one followed by a large.

As I say, the dream may have been nothing more than a reaction to Joan's and my discussion, but my personal feeling is that we should be preparing for contact--perhaps soon."

Odeon frowned. "Before the Final Coming? Or are you saying they're part of the Final Coming? I don't think I like that idea--it makes me uncomfortable."