ed to tell you." He gave her a thin smile. "Despite
my powers, I do operate under constraints; only the Creator is
all-powerful, and I, like you, am one of the created."

Cortin chuckled. "Less than six months I can handle, and I'm sure I'll
know the real one when He or She appears."

"At the proper time, if not immediately. In the meantime, can you
answer my question?"

"Mike?"

"I don't see any harm," Odeon said.

"I'll do it, then. Provided Mike and Dave are also concelebrants."

"That would be even better," Lucius agreed. "It would also be well if
Lieutenant Chang were to offer the Communion of Promise afterward."

"I would be pleased to do so," Chang said. "Does your change of heart
include reparations for the damage you did to Colonel Cortin?"

"I hadn't considered that, but I suppose it should include correcting
the damage, though I will not modify the added sensitivity you gave
her; that is the best I can do in the way of reparations." He paused
for a few seconds. "There, done. I can do nothing about your
fertility, Colonel; that, if it is done at all, will be up to the true
Protector."

Cortin smiled. "I never thought I'd be saying this, but thank you.
This whole thing is a great relief to me--the real Protector coming,
the Brotherhood ordered disbanded even if most of it won't obey, you
supporting the Families and promoting devotion to the Protector . . . I
wouldn't have believed any of it a day ago. Everything coming together
so well, and so suddenly--a much better ending than I'd dared hope for."

"Ending, Colonel?" Lucius shook his head, his expression grim. "An
end to this phase, perhaps, and some time to prepare for the next--but
this phase has been nothing but a preliminary. We have not yet even
reached the decision point--which will, by the way, not be the sort of
confrontation you fear; no one will come to harm there. The decision
made at that point will be the true beginning, and the best-case
outcome will be a war more destructive of life than any so far in this
universe's history."

26. Imperial Contact

St. Thomas, Monday, 27 July 2572 CE

A soft knock on the door and a barely-audible "Excellency?" from
outside it woke her. It was Matthew's voice, so she let the gun stay
under her pillow and got up, grumbling to herself as she put on a
bathrobe and went to open the door. "What is it, Matthew?"

"A call from His Majesty, Excellency. He apologizes for waking