"I'd like some company, then, if you don't mind." She grimaced.
"Though if you'd prefer a woman who can do something for you instead of
a counterfeit, I'd certainly understand."
"Even disabled, you're more of a real woman than any I've paid to be
with," Odeon said. "I've always enjoyed your company, even when one of
us was too tired or too hurt for fun and games--you know that."
"I know--I felt the same way." Cortin managed a smile. "But I will
miss the fun and games, and you'll have to be careful about waking up
shooting because you hear something out of place--I haven't learned to
stay in the right position while I'm sleeping yet, so it's at night my
back acts up worst, and I have a bad tendency to scream when it does."
At least her sense of humor hadn't completely deserted her, even though
the humor now was on the dark side. "I'll be careful," he promised.
"I certainly wouldn't want to shoot my favorite recruit."
* * * * *
She found it comforting to lie beside Mike, even though part of her
also found it a near-painful reminder of what they'd shared earlier.
She lay awake for awhile listening to his quiet breathing before it
lulled her into a doze, then into deeper sleep and dreams of a better
time. It was her Graduation Day; the Duke of Columbia had almost
finished pinning on her classmates' gold Second Lieutenants' bars. Her
own, the silver of a First Lieutenant since she was first in her class,
already gleamed on her immaculate gray uniform. She was impatient for
the ceremony to end. She'd seen her recruiter in the crowd, and she
wanted to carry out the plans she'd made for him, plans that bore no
resemblance to the sometimes-sadistic ones her classmates claimed to
have for their recruiters. She'd discovered the surprisingly
pleasurable reality of the Enforcement Service's sexual freedom not
long after her arrival at the Academy, quickly losing her inhibitions.
Being the only woman in the class, she had enjoyed her instructors'
attentions--but the corollary was far less enjoyable. In prewar days,
being a teacher's favorite had supposedly meant having an easier time
than other students; at the Royal Academy, it meant additional work,
more intensive instruction, and more severe testing. The harder they
were on her, she was repeatedly told, the better her odds of survival
would be when she got out in the field--and she had thrived on the
increased challenge, as she'd proven by graduating at the top of her
class. But much as she had enjoyed her instructors'--and a few of her
classmates'--beds and bodies, it hadn't taken her long to realize that
Mike Odeon was the one she wanted most, and she was determined to take
full advantage of this chance at him.
The ceremony ended at last; she accepted congratulations--and her first
salute, from Lieutenant Odeon. She returned it with the proper
dignity, then launched herself at him for a completely undignified, and
equally thorough, kiss. He cooperated after a second's startlement,
then grinned down at her. "That isn't the kind of attack I carried out
on my recruiter!"
"Oh, that's just the first sortie," Cortin assured him, pleased to find
that although he was sterile, he certainly wasn't impotent, as quite a
few sterile men were; she'd felt that quite clearly during the kiss.
"I think I'm going to like this attack," he said, still grinning.
"I hope so." She tightened her arms around him. "You're staying at
the VOQ?"
"Uh-huh." Odeon raised an eyebrow. "You're thinking of a tactical
strike?"
"Not exactly--more like a siege, if you don't mind my using your
toothbrush in the morning. I couldn't think of a reasonable excuse to
bring my kit to Graduation in case you did show up."
"My toothbrush is yours," Odeon said with a chuckle. "It sounds like
you're anxious to get this siege started."
"I've been taught that unnecessary delay is bad strategy," Cortin said.
"Shall we go, Lieutenant, or should I begin my siege here?"
"We go, Lieutenant," Odeon said, and they did.
When they got to his room, they didn't hurry, but they didn't waste
time, either; once their uniforms were hung in the closet, Joan's siege
began in earnest, and with her target's full cooperation. Lying beside
him, kissing him, caressing his body with the battle scars few
Enforcement and no SO men escaped, feeling his answering caresses on
her still-smooth skin, was even better than she'd dreamed.
Exploration grew into passion, caresses becoming more direct and
intimate, yet there was still no hurry. Cortin savored the touch of
his hand skillfully stroking her, the silk-over-steel delight of him as
ready for her as she was for him. It was she who moved first, eager to
take him in, and she gasped with pleasure as they joined and began
moving in the eternal rhythm.
Then pain stabbed through her, bringing her awake with a choked sob.
As it slowly subsided, she became aware of arms around her, a voice in
her ear, and she tried to tear herself away.
Odeon wouldn't let her. "It's me, Joanie, Mike--not some Brother.
You're safe. You know I won't hurt you--and I'll do my best not to let
anyone else hurt you, either. Relax, try to go back to sleep. Want
your gun?"
"I've got it under my pillow." Cortin managed a half-smile. "The
sovereign remedy for boogey-men, my father used to say. A 10-mm Ruger
with every fifth round a tracer load."
"Smart man, your father," Odeon said. "Not much human-size a 10-mm
load won't stop, and tracers'll discourage the rest. Think you can
sleep now?"
"Yes, I think so." Cortin sighed, relaxing slowly. "Thanks, Mike.
For being here, and for . . . you know. Make sure I wake up in time
for Mass, will you?"
"No problem," Odeon said. "Sleep in peace, Joanie."
* * * * *