es,
please. And I'd say you've had enough theoretical training; unless you
need specific help, I'll expect you to plan and carry out your
operations with as little inter-group communication as possible. Keep
me informed, of course--but as far as others are concerned . . . well,
what they don't know, an Inquisitor can't force them to tell."

The double grimaced. "True--but can't you protect us against them?"

Shannon smiled briefly. "It's more economical to use them. Anyone
incompetent enough to get captured deserves their attentions, and it
saves me the bother of reprimands. Maintain reasonable security, and
you should have no serious problems."

"Yes, Raidmaster." The double would have expected Shannon to prefer
handling his own punishments, but he did have a good point about making
use of the Inquisitors. "If that's all, I'll go pass along your
orders."

"Thanks, James." Shannon sketched the Brothers' sign in the air.
"Revenge for the oppressed."

"And death to the oppressors." His double returned the gesture and
left.

Shannon looked after him for a moment, then stood and went to look out
the window. He was putting a good face on it, he thought, but in truth
he'd like nothing better than to have Cortin dead and in Hell, or at
least lying bloody at his feet.

But that wasn't to be. Not yet, at any rate, and perhaps never. She
was as vital a part of this damnable charade as he himself, so he could
neither kill her nor cause her death, at least until after her role was
played out. He couldn't even use many of his powers against or around
her until she realized and began using those that would be hers for a
time. He could do anything short of those, however--and he smiled at
the delicious memory of torturing her.

Although he'd known it would cause her relatively little distress--far
less than a normal woman, and certainly far less than being branded
with the marks he'd suggested to the Brotherhood--he had particularly
enjoyed raping her. It would have been even better if she'd been a
virgin, but given what she was being primed to accomplish--whether she
realized it yet or not--and the fact that she was an Enforcement
trooper, he'd known better than to even hope for that. Still, it was
the rape she'd get support and treatment for, when the marks were the
real violation; he could take comfort in that.

He cursed the fate that was making him fight to preserve the prewar
morality. It served his