The Golden Queen (26 page)

Maggie looked back, saw vanquishers rushing toward them past a green footlight. One pulled out an incendiary rifle and fired.

The actinic chemical light shot out in an expanding ball, and the thin man pulled her down to the right. The fireball whooshed overhead, singeing Maggie’s face as it passed, then splattered against an aircar.

She and her benefactor weaved between several cars. Maggie spotted one with an open hatch. A guard dressed in black stood at the door, carrying an incendiary rifle.

Maggie glanced at the man, caught her breath. He was a twin to the thin man. She froze at the sight of him, but her companion urged her forward. As she lunged into the back seat of the aircar, the guard leapt away into the shadows.

The thin man started the ignition, began firing the thrusters, and Maggie looked out the window. His twin took cover behind another aircar and fired his incendiary rifle at the vanquishers. The tracker burst into flame, burned like a pillar in the night, his huge spiderlike body twisting in pain. From around the far end of the buildings, three more thin men rushed from the shadows, and two loped around from the front of the inn.

The vanquishers dove for cover behind some planters and began laying down suppressive fire while shouting for help.

The aircar rose, began sliding away into the darkness, and Maggie cried, “Wait! I’ve left a friend down there!”

“I know!” the thin man said, though he did not slow the aircar. “I was trying to warn him when the vanquishers arrived. They sent for reinforcements, so we had to move fast. We hope that by killing the tracker, it will give your friend a chance to escape.”

“We?” Maggie said.

“My doppelgangers,” the thin man said.

Maggie had never heard the word
doppelganger
, so her mantle filled her with understanding. Some people chose to become immortal by cloning themselves and downloading memories into the clones. Among those immortals were people who often kept multiple copies of themselves running at the same time so that they could work toward a common goal. Their leader was called the primary, while the copies were doppelgangers.

The aircar slid smoothly up into the sky, and Maggie looked down. White volleys of gunfire were whipping through the air. The hot springs looked like cloudy green gems from up here, and she watched another vanquisher turn into a living torch, then saw a doppelganger take a hit to the left leg and stagger. He managed one last shot before he toppled; the shot went wide and torched one of Bavin’s apartments.

She looked down at the dying man and felt peculiarly detached. Though he was human, he was, after all, only a copy of a man, and therefore not real. But she knew that the man had felt pain and desires like any other person; he had hopes and dreams, and he’d just chosen to give his life for her.

Maggie looked up at the thin man who piloted the aircar. Somehow it was comforting to know that he was the kind of man who would be willing to die for her.

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?