She didn’t want to toast with him and wondered how offended he would be if she declined. Primary Jagget noticed her hesitancy and said, “You don’t have to pretend that you like me. I assure you, it is quite uncommon for a woman to take any kind of romantic interest in a Jagget. When I was a lone man, women seemed willing to give their hearts. But now that I am an organism, with hundreds of thousands of individuals acting as cells, people are more … reluctant to accept me. Indeed, as a young man they hailed me as an idealist, but now that I am old, they ridicule me as a fanatic-even though my notions have never changed. Believe me, I have grown accustomed to scorn.”
“I … don’t scorn you,” Maggie said.
“Ah, you feel pity,” Jagget said. “A far more noble emotion. Or is it fear? A far more reasonable emotion.”
Yes, both, Maggie thought, but she would not speak it. She wanted to change the subject. She looked out over the valley. A mine shaft sat off to her left, and four Jaggets drove a car up to the edge of the mine. The car had a trailer, and the trailer carried a large white ball. When they got to the mouth of the mine, the car stopped. The Jaggets exited the car, and one of them climbed up on the trailer and opened some fastenings to the white ball. The ball flipped open, revealing a hollow interior like an egg. One Jagget stood talking to the others for a moment, laughing and slapping their backs, obviously saying good-bye, then he climbed into the egg, flipped down the lid. The others got up, made sure the egg was fastened securely, then drove the car on into the mine shaft.
“What are those men up to?” Maggie asked.
“Ah, we are storing some of our personnel for future use,” Primary Jagget said.
“What do you mean, storing?” Maggie asked, wishing that she had her mantle back.
“In stasis chambers. We are a defeated planet, you understand. We could choose to flee in starships before the Dronon Empire, but the costs would be prohibitive even for me. So, I am storing some of my clones so that I can wake them when the political climate is more favorable.”
Maggie shook her head, wondering at this man. She downed her wine, thinking it might be advisable to be drunk for this encounter.
“I’m sorry for having to take you captive and drug you,” Jagget said. “I needed to check you for weapons, and I couldn’t have you conscious for the procedure. Aren’t you going to ask how I knew you were on Fale in my future?” The smirk on his face assured her that she would have to find out sooner or later.
“How?” Maggie said.
“I learned it from the dronon,” Jagget answered. “A huge number of reinforcements landed on the planet through a gate last week. They bore holotapes showing how you and your friends blackmailed them during your escape from Fale. I found it intriguing to watch a newscast from our own future. But the dronon must also have some earlier news, for they suspected that Everynne and Veriasse might have traveled here alone. Anyway, the images of you and your bear friend were not clear in the videos, but I managed to enhance them. The dronon had a gate key that would take them into the past, so they were moving back in time, searching frantically for Terrors on all of their worlds. Since Wechaus is a conquered planet, and since it is rumored to have a gate that leads to Dronon, we received a great deal of attention from the Lords of the Swarm.” Primary Jagget stood posed with his wineglass in hand, obviously pleased with himself.
“So, what will you do with me?” Maggie asked.
Primary Jagget shrugged. “In a few moments, we should be receiving a live broadcast of your exploits on Fale. The dronon have been searching for you all night, and they’re trying to mobilize the public against you. If the people here believe that Everynne will leave a Terror on this world, I fear that she will receive a typical Wechaus welcome-a cold welcome.”
“But you know that’s not true!” Maggie said. “Everynne wouldn’t destroy a planet.”
“I know nothing of the sort!” Jagget snapped. “Everynne has told different stories on at least three different worlds. All I know about her is that she is a talented liar who seems to practice her art at every opportunity!”
“What will you do to her?” Maggie asked.
Primary Jagget smiled, stroked his goatee. “I will decide once I have her in my hands.”
Chapter 17
Orick woke in Panta’s home. The fire in the fireplace had burned down to ashes, and he and Panta sprawled exhausted on the floor like a pair of rugs.
The night had turned into a heavenly ordeal. Like most species of animal that mated only every few years, bears tended to try to make up for lost time. Panta had exhausted Orick after three hours, but demanded his services for two more. Orick was beginning to see that the ritual battles between male bears back on Tihrglas might have served a real purpose. The winners of such battles tended to be the males who had the most stamina, and servicing Panta had certainly tested Orick’s stamina to the limits.
He lay staring at the female. She was beautiful-a soft, thick pelt; sensual snout; claws polished to a bright shine. Orick roused himself, went into the kitchen. A bowl of fresh fruit sat on the table, and as he helped himself, he began wondering about Maggie. He felt guilty for not following her, trying to help her. He’d let his gonads do all the thinking last night.
Panta stirred in the other room, and he called out. “These brazen fellows that Maggie went off with-”
“The Jaggets?”
“Aye,” Orick said. “Where would they have her?”
“Just about anywhere,” Panta said, padding into the kitchen. She stood in the doorway on all fours, put her front paws out and stretched seductively, her rump in the air. “There are Jaggets all over the country. Perhaps before saying where they might take her, I should ask you why they might take her.”
Orick had already explained to Panta that he was from Tihrglas, so now he told her all about their exploits on Fale and other worlds. He had no reservations in telling her things that he might never mention to a human. Though many a bear will grow grumpy and irritable, there never was a bear with an ounce of avarice, and avarice is what led humans into so many errors.
“If the Jaggets have taken her to keep her away from the dronon,” Panta said, “they’ll have her at one of their fortresses. It’s beyond the power of a bear to get into one of those places, and I wouldn’t try, if I were you.”
“The poor child,” Orick said, “she’s had such a rough life, I wouldn’t want to add to her burdens. I’m worried sick over her.”
“Perhaps your friends can help when they get here,” Panta said. Orick grunted in appreciation, and Panta licked his face.
The door chimed. Panta went to the corner, looked out the window. “Vanquishers!” she whispered. “Stay out of sight.”
She hurried to the door and opened it. A deep voice said, “Citizen, records indicate that you were at Flaming Springs last night.”
“Yes,” Panta said. “I had dinner and swam with a friend.”
“Were you there at the time of the shootings?”
“There was a shooting?” Panta asked in mock horror. “I had no idea. I left early.”
“It is strange how many people left early,” the vanquisher said.
“I was only there for a short time,” Panta said. “I went only to choose a mate. It’s that time of year.”
“Did you find someone?”
“Yes, an old friend named Footh. He left just an hour ago. He can verify my story.”
“We shall speak to him, citizen,” the vanquisher grumbled.
Panta closed the door, walked swiftly back to Orick and spoke to a grill on the wall. She talked to it for several moments before Orick realized that she was talking to Footh, using little code phrases to make sure that he would verify her story.
“Stay home,” Footh told her. “The vanquishers are all over the highways. The holovid networks say that someone carrying a Terror escaped from Fale. The vanquishers tried to arrest her here last night.”