"He's always been impressed by the loyalty you inspire in those who
work with you, and he was also most impressed when he saw the films of
your training interrogations." Bradford smiled. "Not as impressed by
the films as Ivan and I were, but His Majesty isn't an Inquisitor; he
couldn't see the subtleties that can make such a difference. Still,
what he could see, combined with your truthsense, not to mention the
reputation you've earned from your work at Middletown, have convinced
him that you're the one he wants for a new position. It's a major part
of the increased anti-terrorist campaign, and it won't require you to
leave the Strike Force or give up your team. There'll be less field
work, though--probably a lot less--and you'll be headquartered in a new
building near the Palace compound. This is a small sample of the life
you can lead there, one both His Majesty and I hope you'll find
tempting."
"I do," Cortin admitted. It would be hard not to be tempted by the
thought of living close to the Palace compound, eating this sort of
food, and keeping her Strike Force status and team as well. "What's
the position? And, with all due respect to you and His Majesty, what's
the catch?"
"The position is High King's Inquisitor, which carries membership in
the Royal Household as well as the rank of Colonel, to match your
counterparts in other Kingdoms." Bradford grinned at her expression of
disbelief. "I don't joke about His Majesty, Joan. Or about a
prospective member of the Royal Household, who'll outrank mere members
of the King's Own if she accepts the job, and might take offense."
Cortin swallowed, hard. How could she refuse such an offer, whether
she believed it justified or not? She looked at Odeon, almost
desperately, but saw no help there; he looked both smug and as pleased
as she thought she ought to be, so she turned her attention back to
Bradford. Worse, this fit in with what she'd experienced--and
preferred not to think about--while she'd been under Sis' drugs. "The
catch?"
"We're hoping you don't think there is one--or at least not one bad
enough to stop you from accepting the position. As I said, there'll be
less field work, but to balance that, you'll be able to flag any topic
you want information on, and you'll be able to requisition any prisoner
you want to question yourself. You'll also be asked to carry out the
most difficult interrogations as well, and executions of the worst
criminals. What do you say?"
"That it all sounds much too good to be true," Cortin replied. Jumping
from Captain to Colonel, the highest Enforcement rank, plus joining the
Royal Household, access to any information or prisoners she wanted
. . . it was hard to believe she could be offered all that, even with the
reputation she now took pride in. And the vision, or hallucination, or
whatever it had been that said this was going to happen. She sipped at
her drink, a freshly-pressed cider. She did have to admit it was hard
to refuse, though. "What else?"
"The clincher, I hope," Bradford said. "A commander who can resist
personal threats or promises is often vulnerable to the same pressures
on his--or her, of course--people. So a reminder: your team will
remain with you. If you're part of the Household, that means they'll
be attached to it--members of the King's Own, reporting to you. Not as
prestigious as being Household members, and it doesn't carry automatic
promotion, but they'll also live near the Palace compound--in your
Lodge, if they don't mind living in a building that also houses the
High King's Inquisitor and a state-of-the-art interrogation suite."
Not as overwhelming an offer as the one to herself, but Cortin nodded.
"You're right, Brad, that is the clincher. Even though you might not
have needed it, if you'd given me time to think; I would've realized
what the offer meant for them."
"You accept, then."
"Yes."
"Good." Bradford smiled. "On His Majesty's behalf, then, as well as
from me: Congratulations, Colonel Cortin." He stood, raising his
glass. "Gentles, I give you Her Excellency Colonel Joan Cortin, the
High King's Inquisitor."
The others followed suit. Illyanov and Odeon exchanged glances, Odeon
obviously trying to look solemn but spoiling the effect with a smile he
couldn't hide. Illyanov raised an eyebrow, then nodded, and Odeon
said, "To Your Excellency's continued health and happiness." The
diners drank the formal toast, then sat back down, and Odeon dropped
his attempt to look solemn. "High King's Inquisitor--Joanie, you
couldn't've asked for a better place to hunt those plaguers from!"
"No, I don't think I could," Cortin agreed. "It's still hard to
believe I'd get tapped for it, though--talent or not, I don't have that
much experience." She paused long enough to eat some stuffed shrimp
and take a drink of cider, then she went on. "If there'd been a
position like this earlier, I'd've expected it to go to someone like
Brad or Ivan, with experience."
"I do not know about Brad," Illyanov said with a smile, "but I am not
qualified. I am immediately subject to Czar Nicholas, not to High King
Mark. Since you express interest, however--I have been informed that I
am under consideration for that position on St. Dmitri. I should like
to teach you the advanced techniques we did not have time for earlier,
but I should also like to return to my wife and children in New Moscow.
Despite the climate."
"New Colorado's bad enough in the winter," Cortin agreed. "I'd like to
go to your home world some day, on assignment or leave--but I hope it's
in summer!"
"It is far more pleasant then," Illyanov said, chuckling. "Should I
get the position and require your assistance, I shall try to assure it
is in summer. Should you go there at any time, however, I would like
you to meet my family. You will like them, I think, especially Elena
and the girls, but I must warn you: the boys, especially Pyotr, will
beg you for war stories, and they can be most persistent."
"I think I can handle that," Cortin said, amused. "You'll all be
welcome at the Lodge, of course." She turned to Bain. "That goes for
your brother's family, too, you know."
"Thanks . . ." Bain said, hesitantly. "But I'm not sure they'd be
comfortable in the capital."
"I'm not sure I'll be comfortable there," Cortin said, then turned to
Bradford. "Brad, all any of us know about life in New Denver comes
from the news and--if we read them, which I sometimes do for
laughs--the society columns. What's it really like?"
"I don't want to disappoint you," Bradford said, "but most of the time
it's actually quite ordinary. You'll wear dress uniform more often,
you'll be expected to attend important Palace functions, and your team
will act as bodyguards any time you leave the Compound; otherwise,
except for taking orders only from His Majesty--no one else can do more
than request--you should find things fairly normal." He grinned.
"You'll find out, starting tomorrow . . . if Your Excellency cares to
join Their Highnesses on the return flight."
Cortin swallowed. That shouldn't have surprised her, but it did--a
flight to New Denver with the Crown Prince and Princess wouldn't be
unusual for a member of the Royal Household, and she would get used to
it, she supposed. Right now, though, it was a shock. She brought
herself under control and said, "I'd be honored. Arrangements will
have to be made, of course, to return our horses and pick up our
personal gear. Oh, and we'll need proper insignia."
"All taken care of," Bradford said. "We had plenty of time while you
were under treatment."
Cortin absorbed that, starting on her dessert. It sounded at first
like Bradford or His Majesty had assumed, even before asking, that she
would accept--and maybe they had, she couldn't know--but a little
thought told her that wasn't necessarily the case. Bradford could
carry all the insignia in a pocket, all of their personal gear wouldn't
strain a single packhorse, and if she refused, they could all be
returned to Middletown with only a slight loss of time. "Thanks--that
was kind of you."
"Call it enlightened self-interest," Bradford said. "And I do have
something to ask, when and if your primary duties permit."
"Of course, if I'm able."
"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."