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."