Cortin lay awake, listening to Odeon's soft breathing and thinking.
The dream had been almost pure wish fulfillment, a wish she'd both had
and known was impossible since the day she'd met him. She'd never had
the slightest interest in any of her schoolmates, or any marriage
interest in the Enforcement men she'd met after Mike . . . but Special
Ops men didn't marry, couldn't have children, so she'd settled for what
they could have.
The dispensation helped, no doubt about that, but it wasn't enough!
Even if they couldn't have children, they ought to be able to have some
sort of stable relationship--and the only way she could see of giving
it to them was to have her new family structure accepted. In fact,
everything seemed to hinge on that, from maintaining social
stability--although in a new form--to the continued existence of
humanity in the Systems. Good as it would be for the parents and the
Kingdoms as a whole, though, it would be best for the children--and for
Special Ops troops, giving the trooper a real home and the family he
married into a second father/husband--or in her case and Piety's,
mother/wife--and provider. A mostly-male marriage might be a bit much
at times for the wife or wives, though, unless it did include
troopers . . .
Cortin felt briefly complacent at that; she could satisfy a shelter
full of troopers without a bit of strain! Mike was right that God had
been more than generous to her; even the attack had been only a prelude
allowing her the increased pleasure men now gave her. It was too bad,
in a way, that other women were limited to what she'd had before . . .
but they couldn't know, any more than she had then, what they were
missing. And they had something she no longer did: the hope, at least,
of children. She couldn't help envying them that, the joys of home and
family she'd never know. Still, she told herself sternly, she'd
accepted that fact months ago, and without the consolations God had
granted her since.
She thought about those consolations, frowning. There were a lot of
troopers who'd been hurt as badly as she, some maimed far worse,
without any corresponding compensations. Maybe Mike was right about
that too, and God did have some kind of purpose for her--which was a
frightening thought. If He had a purpose for anyone on Team Azrael, it
should be Mike; he was the most devout, a natural priest, and he'd been
raised by religious. Even though she was making a conscientious
effort, at Mike's urging, to dedicate her entire life rather than just
her pain to God, she didn't believe she could be called truly devout.
Or, much as she enjoyed the exaltation of saying Mass, that she was a
natural priest. Yes, Mike was far more suited to serving a divine
purpose than she was.
And he was waking; this would be as good a time as any to bring up the
part of her vision she was most frightened by. And maybe the part
she'd liked best . . . When he started to sit up, she spoke. "I need
to talk to you, Mike. Got a few minutes, or do you need to get up
right away?"
"I've got all the time you want," Odeon said, settling back. "What's
the problem?"
Cortin moved toward him. "I . . . didn't tell everything about what I
saw when I was under. Part because it was too frightening, part
because it was too . . . personal. I'm not even sure I can tell you."