The Code War
subjection and his management tool of choice was
fear.
    Bezejel felt his presence inside
her head, forcing her to give up all her recent memories. He
inspected every thought, pored over every motivation and viewed
every act of hers as though watching it through her eyes. Nothing
was left hidden. She was more naked than if she had removed her
skin. The Leader could see the inside of her soul as easily as
others could see the outside of her garments.
    For the few moments while he
ransacked her mind, looking for any hidden subterfuge, Bezejel felt
complete fear. The doors she had thought locked, he opened. He
walked every corridor of her head, emptying the smallest cupboards
of put-away ideas and throwing them behind him in disarray. He
scanned every shelf of her dreams before ridiculing them with his
sneers. All of her thoughts were hauled out, held up, inspected.
Her high rank was not sufficient to spare her for an instant if she
was found to harbour any ill will to the Leader.
    Eventually, he pulled his eyes back and
released her. The experience had lasted moments but its intensity
was shattering. Bezejel breathed out and sank to her knees
exhausted, her mind violated and bruised. While she recovered, the
Leader strode the Oven in his fire-stud boots, turning every
echoing step into a threat.
    'You know that you have been chosen for
a very special project, Bezejel.' Bezejel winced. Even ordinary
words were like arrows when uttered by him.
    'Yes, my Leader.'
    'And you have accepted the project.'
    'Yes, my Leader.' She had had no
choice.
    My commanders and I have selected you
because of your affinity with the subject. She is a young woman and
she is of great interest to us.'
    'Yes, my Leader.'
    'Left to herself she would do
little harm. In fact she has some dangerous, though mild,
charitable instincts. But she is ordinary. Uninteresting. Innocuous
to the point of banal from the outside. Most observers would
dismiss her as inconsequential. A dismal slider on the greasy pole
of worldly success.'
    Yes, my Leader.'
    'But I have not seen her only from the
outside, have I?'
    'No, my Leader.'
    'No my Leader,' he echoed. 'My
intelligence agents, such as Colonel Hideki, have alerted me to her
unusual make-up.'
    'Hideki? The demon officer with the
ceremonial sword?'
    'Yes. Hideki's sword fetish may be
foolish. But his mind is strong. That is why I tolerate him.' The
Leader's eyes bore into Bezejel and she knew it was to warn her off
questioning his judgement.
    'Thank you for your insight,' she
said quickly, bowing her head a little. 'I will remember that
Colonel Hideki is known to be competent.' She had to change the
subject. 'You were instructing me about the woman Nancy, my
Leader?'
    'Yes. The woman Nancy.' The Leader
summoned with his thought a black and chrome Earth globe from a
nearby alcove. It flew through the air into his hand and rested
there, revolving on its axis as an Earth globe should. He caressed
it as though it were a baby. His baby. Then he continued. 'I have
looked at Nancy for myself and confirmed the truth of Hideki's
suspicions. She is…interesting.'
    'Yes my Leader. How may I help my
Leader?'
    'Stand up Bezejel. I can't talk to
you down there.'
    Bezejel pushed herself upright,
her legs still shaking. The eyes looked inside her mind again,
raking over her recent sexual encounters and their violent
aftermath, forcing her to watch them again with him.
    'I see you still like the slap as
much as the tickle,' he concluded as her memory gave up an image of
a handsome satyr lying naked and unconscious on her bed-chamber
floor. 'Never been one for mercy, myself. I'm glad you seem to
agree.'
    'Yes, my Leader.'
    He released her again and her shoulders
sagged.
    'How may you help, you ask. Well,
since you ask so politely here's how you may help, Bezejel. I want
you to command a team. Your mission will be to monitor and
encourage this young woman on her journey. She has latent powers
for evil that she knows nothing about. She is
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