“Did you see those men?” Orick shouted at Panta’s back, running to catch up with her. “Are they brothers or something?”
“No!” Panta said. “They’re Jaggets. If there’s anyone I distrust more than the dronon, it’s a Jagget. And your friend is with them.”
Panta leapt up onto the oversized magcar, and Orick climbed in beside her. “Car,” Panta said, “put up the hood, and take me home. Hurry!” A glass hood slid over the top of Orick’s head, and the magcar’s thrusters revved.
“What’s wrong with a Jagget?” Orick asked as the car surged forward, weaving among the flaming wreckage.
“It’s hard to put it into words exactly,” Panta said. “They used to be the protectors of this planet, but now that the dronon have taken over, the Jaggets have all gone crazy. They’ve been cloned for too many generations. Their DNA is breaking down, and each new generation is more unstable than the last.”
Orick didn’t understand what she’d said. Right now, he felt just a bit giddy. He sat in a closed vehicle with a handsome young she-bear who was in estrus, and the scent made him dizzy. Add the excitement of the past few days, the element of fatigue, and the poor bear could hardly think straight.
Panta’s vehicle whizzed south over the highway Orick had traversed only a couple of hours before. Orick felt nervous, vulnerable, and wanted to get under cover. After what seemed like a long drive, the car turned abruptly and headed into the hills on a winding road until it reached a small stone house on a knoll. Lights shone warmly from the window, and Orick could see a nice stone fireplace inside, a dining room with a large table, bright flowers growing from pots that hung above the windows. He stared in awe. In all of Tihrglas, no bear had ever owned such a fine home.
He felt nervous. The car stopped and the glass hood rolled back.
Cold air hit him, and he sat for a moment, breathing deeply, steam coming from his breath. Panta looked at him, made a soft whining noise. “Will you come in with me?”
For no reason he could discern, Orick’s mouth began to water. He knew that if he went into the house with Panta, he would lose his virginity. Only days before he had been tempted to take his vow of chastity, but now temptation was sitting here beside him, batting her brown eyes and filling the car with the scent of desire.
In the past few days, Orick had seen a lot. He’d let the peace of Cyannesse seep into his bones, and he’d thought it heaven. He’d seen the bones of dead children and tasted the poison air of Bregnel. He’d seen Everynne’s powers nearly unleashed on Fale, and he wondered at it all. Was God letting him see beyond hills that no other bear had ever seen? Was this his reward for seeking to serve God, or was God showing all of this to him for his own purposes? Could it be that he was meant to make a difference? And how did Panta fit into God’s scheme?
Some priests in Tihrglas held that God’s commandment to Adam and Eve to “go forth and multiply” was given to all. But Orick had always believed that only by taking a vow of chastity could he give his full devotion to God.
Oh God, Orick whispered in prayer, you’re the one that led me here. I would have resisted her advances, but you brought me here. I swear that after this one night, I’ll come crawling back to you on my knees, and I’ll take my vow of chastity then.
Panta waited for Orick’s answer and asked huskily, “Orick, were those vanquishers hunting for you?”
“I think so,” he admitted.
Her eyes grew wide. She licked her lips and said, “I find that soooo exciting!”
Orick trembled with anticipation as she led him into the house.
Maggie woke to a yellow haze. She heard a voice speaking, realized it was her own. But someone else’s questions were running through her brain: Where is Semarritte’s clone? Why did you lie to Primary Jagget? Where did you expect to meet Semarritte’s clone? How many Terrors is Seinarritte’s clone carrying? You testified that Veriasse and the clone have told you several conflicting stories about their plans; how do you know that they have not planted bombs on each world they have visited?
The questions were all ringing through her mind, and Maggie willed herself not to answer. Her voice quit speaking.
Maggie’s head felt as if it would split. Some viselike instrument was crushing her temples. She tried to move her arms and kick, but could not move.
Nearby, Jagget or one of his clones said, “Sedate her again, quickly.”
“No!” she shouted, and was swallowed by the cold.
She woke, perhaps hours later, with a headache. She was in a small, cold room made of stone. It had one light, no windows, no furnishings. The white walls were cracked, like rough skin. Maggie felt her head. Her mantle was gone. From the cold seeping to her bone, she realized so were her underwear and her shoes. She had only the pale green robe she’d worn for the past few days. The place was empty, except for some dirt on the floor and her own ripening scent.
There was one door in the room. Maggie got up off the floor, approached the door. It slid open. Two Jaggets stood against the far wall of a corridor, and they smiled at her. They wore crisp, identical tan military fatigues.
“Are either one of you Primary Jagget?”
As one, the Jaggets shook their heads. One answered, “He’s asked you to join him for lunch.”
“Lunch? Was I out all night?” Maggie asked.
“Yes,” the Jagget answered. “We found it desirable to sedate you. We don’t like strangers walking around our compound.” Maggie looked deeply into the Jagget’s dark eyes, saw them glittering with something that might have been madness. She’d reacted to it instinctively the night before.
“I see,” she said softly.
“Shall we go to lunch?” the other Jagget offered.
“Please.” Maggie nodded so that one of them would lead the way.
“We don’t like to walk in front,” one of the Jaggets said. “Please, you lead.”
“But I don’t know where we’re going.”
“Just walk,” the Jagget offered. “We’ll tell you when to turn.”
Maggie shrugged, headed down a hall dirty with disuse till it reached a side passage. “To the right,” a Jagget said. He guided her through an underground construction facility, and everywhere Jaggets in dull brown coveralls hauled containers, worked at monitoring stations, or stood supervising others. She could not guess from the odd components what they were making. It looked to be some type of personal flier in a new design.
They climbed some stairs that led to the surface. It was a cool day with blue skies and fresh snow on the ground. Once she saw the compound in the daylight, Maggie saw that this was a military installation. Several towers held gun emplacements, and on the perimeter of the city she spotted heavy generators that powered energy shields. Only then did she notice the faint shimmering in the sky above as sunlight refracted on the shields.
They climbed a stair that zigzagged uphill to a large house, a stately affair with marble columns. Primary Jagget sat under the portico at a table covered with a white cloth. Sunlight splashed down upon him. The day seemed cool to Maggie, with snow on the ground in most places, but Jagget luxuriated in the thin sunlight, as if it were a warm and pleasant day. Lunch waited on the table. Wine goblets were filled, and an assortment of silver platters held steaming foods. Two Jaggets busily served vegetables onto plates.
Primary Jagget stood as Maggie climbed the last few steps, smiled warmly. “Greetings, Maggie! Well met! Well met! Are you thirsty after your little climb?” She wondered why he didn’t ask if she was thirsty after her interrogation.
She was both thirsty and had to urinate, but she didn’t want to admit it to Jagget. She was mad, but in control of her anger. Still, he grabbed a wine goblet, handed it to her.
A cool wind blew out over the fields of Wechaus, and Maggie drew her robe tight. Primary Jagget raised his glass in a toast and said, “To my kingdom.” He waved in an expansive gesture, indicating the countryside around them.