Jaguar moved her finger from Normal House 7, in a direct line to the breeding complex, which was separated from it by a few hundred yards of woods. Her finger landed on the jaguar cages.
“I’ll let the cats out of the bag,” she crooned.
“Fuckin’ jam,” Pinkie said. “I’m not going near those things.”
“I’ll manage that part, Pinkie. It’s our distraction. You and Gerry are in costume. Animal control, patrolling the Normal house area to make sure they don’t get in there. Bring an extra suit, for our guest.”
Rachel began pulling apart her second piece of bread.
Marie reached across, grabbed the bread from Rachel. “Look,” she said. “If you’re hungry, eat it. If not - leave it alone.”
Rachel scowled at her, and folded her hands hard.
Jaguar patted her hand. “Rachel, you get to stay in the truck. Can you get into security with your notebook?”
“I - for what purpose?”
“Shut down the Normal house system.”
Rachel’s hands twisted as if they were tearing bread. Pinkie grinned, and sent a loaf sliding across the table to her.
“Thanks,” she said. “I think.”
“Can you?” Jaguar asked again.
“Well, of course I can.”
“Good. Deactivate her implant, too. Then I’ll need shuttle passes for both of us. Can you arrange that?”
Rachel thought hard, then nodded quickly. “Where in particular?”
“To Connecticut. A wildlife refuge near her town. It’s got a few hundred unpopulated acres.”
She’d struggled about where to bring Fiore. Part of her wanted to stay on the Planetoid just because that was the last place Alex was seen. She kept expecting him to turn up in the same vicinity, in the way you expect a lost item to be where you last saw it, sure it couldn’t have just walked away.
But Alex had just walked away, and he had shuttle tickets to Connecticut, where they both suspected there was a Lunar processing plant.
“Jaguar - are you sure this is a good idea?” Rachel asked.
“I’m pretty sure it’s not,” she said. “You got anything better?”
“No. I wish I did. Is there anything else you need?”
“Just try and stay clean. I don’t want anyone else losing their jobs. And I may need someone who can be inside. Offices, computers, that sort of thing.”
Jaguar turned to Gerry. “You sent for your friend?”
“Right after you told me to.”
Jaguar sighed. “We can’t wait for him. We go tomorrow. If he shows up, tell him he’s to track Alex and bring him back safe.”
Gerry shook his head slowly from side to side. “If he shows up, it won’t be here. It’ll be wherever you are.”
“How’ll he know where I am?” Jaguar asked.
“He’s a sniffer, Jaguar.”
“Well, tell me what he looks like, so I’ll recognize him.”
Gerry pinched his nose with his fingers, rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “He’s big. He’s got a lot of light colored hair.”
“Gerry, that could be Santa Claus.”
Gerry shook his head. “No beard. And well, his nose’s probably broken in more places. I guess you could say he looks sort of like a mountain, with a boulder on top. That’d be his head.”
“Okay. I’ll keep an eye out for a walking mountain.”
“With a lot of gold hair. Golden retriever, remember? And he wears this ring on his little finger. Don’t forget.”
“That’s not likely. Pinkie? Are you set on your part?”
She held a thumb up.
Then, she thought, we are ready to roll.
* * * *
On the Home Planet, a man with a great mane of golden hair tied back in a neat ponytail sat at a café table, his white dress shirt and pants spotless and creased. He sipped a cup of espresso and considered a small and ancient Etruscan coin on the table in front of him.
He liked Etruscan artifacts. They reminded him where his blood flowed from. He was glad this one had come home to him. Now he had to determine what it asked of him.
He sipped from his cup. Put the cup down. Picked the coin up and smoothed it with his large hand. He narrowed his eyes and raised his massive head, sniffing the air around him. He held the coin between his thumb and index finger, held it up to the background of the very blue sky, then brought it to his face and took a long breath through his nose. He closed his eyes and palmed the coin, continuing to smooth it.
Scenes unfolded for him. People moved in their disorderly courses, and places became visible. The interaction between people and place created sense, and sound, and understanding. There was hunting, and the scent of the moon. There were women, and there was the acrid aroma of money. Lots of money. The only scent stronger than money was desire, a much sweeter scent.
Then, within it, he caught a whiff of his favorite aroma. Synchronicity.
The complexities he held in his bear-like hand contained the possibility of bringing a long-nurtured plan to fruition. It would be tricky, though. He’d have to plan carefully around a lot of chaotic variables.
He frowned, muttered, the small muscles around his mouth and nose twitching. Without opening his eyes, he lifted the coin and pressed it against his lips. Flicked out his tongue and licked at the old metal quickly once. Twice.
Then he chuckled. Yes. He might just be able to pull it off.
A waiter walked over and stood at the side of his table. Cleared his throat.
The man opened an eye and grinned at him. “It’s a good day,” he said to the waiter.
The waiter peered around him. “The sun is shining,” he agreed. “A good day. Can I get you anything else?”
“Just my bill,” the man said, smiling. “I’m afraid I have to leave.”
Chapter 13
Alex could no longer determine if he was in Adept space, empathic space, or simply going mad. He woke from dreams that hadn’t occurred to face waking that felt like a dream. The only way he could tell the difference between the two was that Jaguar often visited his dreams, and he knew she wasn’t with him because he longed for her so completely when he was awake.
He saw he was seated on a tree stump, peering at a sun that set red and orange beyond the horizon. On the ground at his feet was a small, round stone. He had the sense it had fallen from his hand, which was cupped as if it had been holding something.
He pushed at the stone with his foot, not wanting to pick it up. Touching it made everything worse. When Brendan used one, the world turned strange, but actually holding it made the world go away. He nudged it further away.
They had moved to the western edge of the eco-site, where the canopy thinned and the sound of animal chatter, bird talk, was muffled and distant. That meant they’d walked a good ten miles he had no memory of walking. Not too far away was an outlying town where Teachers often took rest leave. It was off-limits for prison work. He hoped they didn’t end up there.
Or maybe he would end up there alone, because he didn’t see Brendan anywhere.
Then again, he thought, it might be a good time to leave. He could walk to that outlying town. Find Jaguar. Tell Paul what happened. Get some help. But he still felt compelled to stay with Brendan. He had some kind of plan, and someone had to find out what it was. Not that he was the best person for the job right now, but he seemed to be the only one available.
And he still couldn’t determine if the impulse to stay was something Brendan induced in him, or an Adept demand, telling him things beyond words or common sense. He checked his hand, to see if it would tell him anything.
“What’re you doing?” A voice behind him asked. Brendan.
Alex turned, and saw Brendan peering over his shoulder at his hand.
“Reading my palm,” Alex said. “Why are we here?”
Brendan chuckled. “Is that a metaphysical question?”
“No. Purely practical.” He squinted past the glare the sun cast on Brendan
’s glasses. “I want to know what we’re here for. What we’re going to do next.”
Brendan nodded. “I told you. I’m here to work for The Mother.”
“But what does she want you to do?”
“Redeem her,” he said.
“How?” Alex tried one more time.
Brendan gazed down at the ground, picked up the stone Alex had pushed away. He held it one hand and put his other hand in his pocket, pulled a plastic vial about the size of the vitamin container. It was filled with clear liquid. He lifted it high, so the golden rays of the sun filtered through it and cast rainbows at his feet.
“She said give them this.”
“What is it?” he asked.
Brendan lowered the bottle. “Poison, I think. We have to clear the land for the Mother. She’s stopping here before she returns to the earth.”
Alex took a moment and let the words sink in. “She’s coming to the Planetoid?”
“Yes. I have to get it ready for her.” He regarded Alex quizzically. “I told you that already, didn’t I?”
“I forgot. Is that why you haven’t killed yourself yet?”
He rolled the bottle around in his hands and sighed as if he was very tired. “I have work to do first. The Mother said distribute this to the people.”
“Did she tell you how?”
“Not yet. She will.”
“How does she tell you things?” Alex asked.
Brendan tapped a finger against his skull. “She speaks to me here.”
Alex struggled with a thought, then formed words around it. “What are the stones for?”
Brendan held a stone in front of Alex’s face. Alex jerked back but Brendan moved forward, pressing the stone against his forehead.
“They’re her body. Can’t you feel her in them?”
Alex tried to answer but found he couldn’t because his head was filled with words.
She’s the only one after all, the only one who knows what’s right, not sex or love not babies or food or healing or love or love. This one is asking for death.
Alex closed his eyes. Words filled his brain, some of them his own.
Death? She wants death? And she’s telling him through the stones, amplifying all the Thanatos in him, sending it out wherever she can. Sending it into me.
Death. Like the woman on the bridge. And you know who you should kill first you know. You should kill her. You will kill her.
Kill her? Kill who?
You know who. Jaguar.
Kill Jaguar? They wanted him to kill Jaguar?
Sound reverberated inside the cavity of his skull and he felt it as a weight, substantial as stone. Brendan tossed the bottle that might have poison in it high into the air. Alex felt his own hand shoot up, felt the bottle land solid in it like water-weighted stone and as it hit he fell into Brendan’s left eye, himself a stone weighted with water, unable to swim, unable to see, unable to care about either anymore.
* * * *
The Sanctuary Animal Patrol received word that the jaguars were loose at just the wrong time. Mid-afternoon, on a Saturday, when the most people were out viewing the animals. With their children.
“Shit,” Animal Control Manager Allen Dolpern said. “Suit up. We’re going. Got a truck?”
“Getting it,” His assistant, Susan replied, and moved toward the garage, grabbing her suit on the way.
A truck was waiting for them, but Susan was surprised to see someone standing next to it, already suited up. Under the protective headgear, she could see a fluff of what looked like blue hair. She wondered vaguely who it was.
“Hey,” she said. “How’d you get ready so fast?”
“I’m a boy scout,” a voice replied. “Always prepared.”
Susan shrugged, turned and opened the van door. She barely felt the prick of a needle engaging with the back of her neck. She only knew she suddenly felt quite light. Light enough to float away. And even if she was falling, that was fine, because she would simply drift upward and keep floating.
“Nighty-night,” Pinkie said, catching her as she fell. She pulled her headgear off, stuck her fingers in her mouth and whistled. Gerry and Jaguar, suited, walked over.
“In,” Jaguar said to Pinkie. “I’ll take care of the supervisors.”
Gerry and Pinkie gunned the motor, and Jaguar stuck her head in the door of the other truck.
“Hey,” she said to Supervisor Allen Dolpern. “We’re rolling. I’ll call in when we get there.”
“Oh - sure. I didn’t know you had the others.”
“I’m fast,” Jaguar said. “Fast and easy. You heard that about me, didn’t you?”
* * * *
A woman shrieked.
A child screamed.
A man swore.
Chaos, the black jaguar, flung himself against the fence between the breeding complex and the public Zoo. Hecate, at his side, merely paced back and forth. People scattered like coins tossed on the street as the white Animal Control van pulled up.
Hecate ignored them. Instead, she ran her paces into the heart of the Sanctuary, while Chaos moved in the other direction.
“Get these people out of here,” Jaguar called out the window to the security guard. “We’ll take it.”
Jaguar turned to the back of the van, where Rachel sat working her notebook. “Got it?” she asked quietly. Rachel kept working, then gave her the thumbs up.
“Good. Go. You’ve only got five minutes.”
She got out of the van and hit the side twice. They moved forward, following Hecate into the breeding complex.
“Hey,” the security guard said. “They can’t go back there. That’s secure.”
“Tell it to the cat,” Pinkie said, sticking her head out the window as they rolled away.
The security guard moved his hand toward his belt sensor, but was interrupted by the sound of a low growl behind him. Chaos had breached the fence, coming to her call.
Jaguar held a hand up to the security guard, whose face was quite pale. “Try not to pass out,” she said. “Remember, they’re opportunistic hunters.”
His legs began to shake visibly. Jaguar moved forward two steps. A few dozen feet away, another security guard held back a group of spectators.
“Cool,” someone said.
Jaguar approached Chaos. “Here, kitty kitty,” she cooed. The guard stood and shook.
“Move one step to the side,” Jaguar advised him. “Very small step. Very slow movement.”
The guard did so. In her peripheral vision, Jaguar saw the white van pull up to Normal house 7, but nobody else was looking in that direction.
She walked to the right of the guard, who later swore she started singing. Using words he didn’t know. A tune he’d never heard. But dammit, she was singing, and that damn cat turned right away from him and toward her.
It prowled, he’d tell his buddies over beer, just like a housecat, ready to leap, but she just stood there singing.
Not an eye moved off the scene as two people exited the white van near Normal House 7. “Move,” Rachel said to them, pointing ahead. “You’ve got four minutes.”
In the zoo proper, Chaos leaped and Jaguar let herself fall under him, shouting at the guard, “Don’t shoot. Don’t raise a weapon. He’ll go for you.”
And she returned to singing while the crowd gasped and, beyond the purview of their current interest, two people in animal control suits knocked on the door of Normal 7.
Peter Cooper opened it, smiled at them, started chatting.
“Come on,” Rachel muttered at Pinkie and Gerry’s back. “No time for small talk.”
Peter was saying he didn’t know where the cat went. He hadn’t seen a thing, when Pinkie made a small, quick motion with her hand and he slumped onto Gerry’s chest. They dragged him inside.
Nobody noticed, least of all security, because all eyes were glued to Chaos, who had both his paws on Jaguar’s shoulders. He held her down and growled, breath hot in her face, mouth large enough to engu
lf her face as she lay still, singing.
Inside Normal 7 Fiore crouched in a corner of the kitchen. Gerry picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, where she began to beat on his back and scream.
“Christ,” he groaned. “You got another one of those needles, Pinkie?”
She did, and she used it. Fiore was loaded into the van, covered with blankets, and they drove out of the Normal House area.
Rachel lifted a tense face to Pinkie. “Half a minute to spare,” she said.
They rolled back to the sanctuary area as Chaos lowered his open mouth over Jaguar’s face, brought his tongue out, and licked her.
The crowd was still, trying to interpret this gesture.
He licked her again, and she reached up, scratched the front of his head, pulling a panther sized purr from the base of his throat.
“Aw,” someone said. “That’s so cute.”
Jaguar pulled herself out from under him and stood. She continued singing as she led him, like the Pied Piper, through the Sanctuary and back to the breeding complex.
“When the van arrives, can you tell them where I’ve gone?” she requested as she passed the guard who watched the crowd.
“Um - yeah. No problem.”
The crowd watched her leave, waited until the breeding complex gates were shut, then cheered mightily. They were still cheering and clapping when the white van pulled in.
“The other one’s still in the cage,” Gerry said, out the window.
“Yeah. Great. Your friend took care of the big guy.” He pointed. “Breeding complex.”
“Thanks,” Gerry said. “We’ll go pick her up.” And they rolled away.
* * * *
Fiore regained consciousness before they reached the shuttle station. When they got out of the van, Jaguar took a moment to look in her eyes.
“You’re coming with me,” she said.
Fiore nodded. She didn’t fight. Didn’t want to.
Jaguar turned to Rachel, who handed her two shuttle passes. “I recoded the retinal scan to match,” she said.
“Thanks,” Jaguar said. “Paul might be calling you. He’ll have diarrhea of the cerebral cortex over this, I’m sure. Just say you don’t know a thing. And - I might be out of touch for a while. You know that, right?”
A Lunatic Fear Page 14