The Golden Queen

Chapter 16

Maggie leaned back in the padded seat as the aircar roared out over snowfields. The cabin was pressurizing, and her ears popped. She took her eyes off the green gems of flaming springs, hoping Orick would escape.

If I get through this alive, she thought, I’ll never go near another inn again. She twisted some hair around her finger, chewed the ends nervously.

The thin man glanced at her. “Your bear friend will be all right. My men just took out the last vanquisher. As one would suspect, the guests of the inn are checking out in record time.”

The thin man appeared to be thirty-five years old, though appearances would mean nothing on this world. He did not wear a mantle or guide. He wore a work suit of nondescript brown. He was not particularly handsome. “How do you know that your men killed the last vanquisher?”

“Implants.” He pointed to his ear. He sighed and leaned back. The aircar was piloting itself now. He glanced at Maggie. “I must say, I’m disappointed. I had been informed that a Tharrin was traveling between worlds, Semarritte reborn. And the man accompanying her fit the description of Semarritte’s Lord Protector. Yet I risked my life and the lives of my doppelgangers for what, a bear and…?”

Maggie shrugged. There was something more in the question than mere curiosity-a demand. His face remained impassive as he waited for her answer. “My name is Maggie Flynn.”

“My name is Primary Jagget,” he offered, stroking his goatee. “So why are you on Wechaus, and where is Semarritte’s clone?”

Maggie did not know if she trusted Jagget. Her first impulse was to lie. Yet she suspected that some of his men were searching for Orick, and in time Jagget might question the bear. She had to make the lie plausible, so she forged ahead.

“Everynne was her name,” Maggie said. “She came to my home world of Tihrglas two weeks ago with her escort, an old man who didn’t mention his name. They hired me and my bear to lead them through the woods to an ancient gate, but there were some vanquishers and dronon after them. The old man fell behind to slow the vanquishers, sent us up ahead to the gate. We were at the gate when we heard his death scream. Everynne gave me the key, showed me how to use it, then rushed back through a clearing to help the old man. Just then, the vanquishers came out the far side of the clearing and shot her. The bear and I saw that our only chance for escape was to jump through the gate. We’ve been traveling ever since, trying to find our way back home through the gates.”

“What of your mantle?” Primary Jagget asked. “Surely you did not get that on Tihrglas.”

“The woman-Everynne-had it in her pack. She handed me her pack before she got killed.”

Primary Jagget studied her with dark eyes, his face lit only by the running lights of the aircar. He sighed deeply, closed his eyes. “So, Semarritte’s clone is dead,” he said. “What a loss. What a tremendous loss!”

“Was she a friend of yours?” Maggie asked.

Primary Jagget shook his head. “I’ve never actually seen her, but yes, she was a friend of mine.”

He fell silent for a long moment. “What shall we do with you? The dronon have offered a reward for the woman who is traveling the Maze of Worlds.”

“I’ve done nothing,” Maggie said, realizing that she had a hole in her story. If Everynne was already dead, the dronon wouldn’t still be searching for her. “Why should they want me?”

“Isn’t it obvious? They want your key.”

Maggie breathed a sigh of relief. “Of course.” She looked out the window. There were no moons above this planet, only a ring of light, and that was partly in shadow. The aircar sped over a frozen ocean.

“So, you and your friend want to get home,” Primary Jagget said. “I can help you-in return for the key.” Maggie did not know what to answer. She didn’t really want this stranger trying to escort her back to Tihrglas. “Of course, if you think the price is too high, I could sweeten the bargain.”

Maggie listened to the tone of his voice, realized that she might have just stumbled upon a universal trait for the inhabitants of Wechaus-they all seemed greedy.

“I will think about it,” Maggie said. “When your men find my friend Orick, I’ll discuss your offer with him.”

“Fine,” Primary Jagget said. “I’ll take you to my compound. You’ll be safe there. I personally can vouch for the character of every person on the premises. It’s secluded, well defended. The dronon won’t find you there.”

“Thank you,” Maggie said. She leaned back in the comfortable cushions of her seat, watched the land go by. They were flying very fast. They were in a Chughat XI, an expensive car used by diplomats, and her mantle whispered that its top speed was Mach 12. She guessed that they were nearing Mach 10 when the car suddenly began slowing and dropped toward a city of stone. Bright lights ringed one large building, and Maggie could see dozens of people driving along streets, standing on corners. They all moved with a common gait, stood with a familiar stance. They were all clones of Primary Jagget.

“How many copies of you are there?” Maggie asked.

“All told, right now I would estimate about nine hundred thousand,” Primary Jagget answered.

“Why so many?”

“I am a man of great ambition, but I have too little time. So my doppelgangers and I work together.”

“And what is your great ambition?” Maggie asked as the aircar slid to the ground.

Primary Jagget didn’t hesitate to answer. “To keep my homeland free. That is my sole desire.”

The car skidded to a halt, and Primary Jagget climbed out his door. Two doppelgangers hurried up to Maggie’s door, opened it for her. One reached out to give her a hand from the car. She took it, stepped onto the pavement.

Primary Jagget said, “I’m sorry that I can’t see you to your room, but I have urgent business elsewhere.” Maggie turned to glance at him, and there was a soft whispering sound of wings.

Primary Jagget turned into a swarm of cream-colored butterflies that flew away in a cloud.

The butterflies vanished into darkness just beyond the streetlights. Maggie stared at the butterflies, astonished, for Jagget’s body had not been flesh and blood but an artifice created through nanotechnology.

Maggie felt something poke her back. Her muscles spasmed and her legs went numb. She saw lights and whirled, staggering. She grabbed a doppelganger’s shirt to keep from falling. For a moment the world spun, and she hung on precariously. She twisted and looked down at the doppelganger’s hands, saw a blue arc of light issuing from a small grip. She smelled burned cloth and ozone.

Maggie blinked, looked at the arc, and her mind suddenly registered that it was an electric stun gun. The doppelganger shoved the gun into her belly, and the world went white.

Orick had been sitting with Panta in the dining room at Flaming Springs, enjoying a salmon dinner that was more feast than dinner when he looked out the window and saw three vanquishers outside the front door, their breath steaming in the cold as they examined Maggie’s airbike.

“I think we’d better haul our tails out of here,” Orick told Panta. The young she-bear glanced out the window.

“I think you’re right,” she said, wiping her greasy paw on the tablecloth.

Orick wanted to leave quietly, but it appeared that Panta had a greater distaste for the vanquishers than he did. She hurried to the side door, making for the apartments, and broke into a run. The front door to the inn opened behind them, and a vanquisher shouted, “Stop!”

Orick halted, but Panta hit the door full tilt, knocking it down. Out by the pools, Orick saw Maggie beside a lighted tree, her back turned as she raced around a building. Two vanquishers rushed through the dining room, ducking their heads to keep from scraping the ceiling, dashing over tables.

When they tried to pass Orick, he veered left as if to avoid them, then swerved right to trip them. He roared an apology as they tumbled to the ground, then backed against the wall as if he’d only been trying to get out of the way. The vanquishers leapt to their feet, dashed into the night.

Panta had disappeared into the fog beyond the buildings, and the vanquishers turned the corner, rushing toward Maggie, apparently determined to capture anyone who tried to run from them. Orick looked out the row of windows behind him. One of the vanquishers-a tracker-was racing around the building in the other direction, as if to cut Maggie off.

Orick didn’t know how best to help, so he roared a challenge and rushed out the door, following the two largest vanquishers, hoping that if need arose, he could jump them from behind, gain an element of surprise.

He reached the corner apartment by the pools, and three identical men carrying incendiary rifles rushed past him. He stopped to give them the road, wondered who they were.

Behind the cluster of apartments, the white fire of incendiary rifles broke out with a distinctive whooshing sound followed by a pop as each round ignited. Orick passed the last buildings, saw a battle in progress. Several men were shooting it out with a vanquisher. Tracers of white flame filled the sky. Two other vanquishers were already in flames.

A bunch of cars were parked in a field, and an aircar shot up into the sky. Panta sat cowering behind another aircar. When she saw Orick, she ducked low to the ground, roared for him to stay down.

Orick watched one human defender then another take hits with incendiary fire, but the vanquisher was surrounded. Within seconds, the ogre burst into flames.

The human defenders raced through the parking lot for a moment, shouting to one another, then leapt away north through the darkness and fog. The parking lot was well-lighted by vanquishers and vehicles blazing in raging flames.

Panta rushed through the smoke to Orick. “Let’s get out of here!” she shouted. She ran toward an oversized magcar.

“I can’t!” Orick said. “I’ve got to find Maggie!”

“She left in an aircar!” Panta said. “Let’s go.”

Orick stopped a moment, astonished. It had never occurred to him that Maggie would leave without him, but it only made sense. If it hadn’t been for his lust, he would have listened more seriously to her warning. He simply felt grateful that she’d escaped.

“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.

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.”