The saber-toothed tiger bounded toward Seamus like a demon sent from hell.
It was, he noted as he fumbled for his spear, the biggest critter he had ever seen. God had made a mistake in upgrading the harmless kitten into such a fearsome beast.
As long as the Dev, he estimated as the tiger leaped, its long and fearsome teeth aimed at his neck.
He realized he would not raise his spear in time. It’s been an interesting life.
“Marjetta!” he screamed, knowing that it would be his last word.
Somehow she slipped between him and the soaring beast, jammed her spear into its chest, and twisted the fearsome animal out of its line of flight.
It rolled over next to Seamus in an angry spasm, growling and pawing the air with its huge claws as blood erupted from its gaping wound.
Marjetta hurled Seamus savagely back from the dying animal. “Are you waiting for it to kill you, you bloody idjit? It’s not dead yet.”
Trembling and silent, Seamus let her pull him to the side of the tiny clearing in which they were camped. She continued to rage at him.
“What was the matter with you? Why did you stand there and stare at that awful thing? Why didn’t you pick up your spear and kill it? You’re a bloody amadon.”
“Why an amadon?” he began to breathe again.
“Because you’re the worst kind of idjit. Why didn’t you kill it?”
“Well, partly because I was too scared to move.…”
“I don’t believe that,” she snapped at him.
“And partly because I didn’t know how to.”
“Oh, of course.” Small contrite voice. “I assumed that they had these ugly creatures on all planets and that you had practiced killing them, like soldiers do here.”
“You practice on real ones?”
“Of course not.” Now she was gasping for breath, terror finally catching up with her. “Mechanical ones.”
“’Tis yourself that has the quick reactions.”
“The holy saints be praised,” she threw her arms around him. “Oh, Geemie, I almost lost you!”
“I owe you about a half dozen now.” He crushed her in his own arms. “Sure that thing had its eye on my throat. Come on, woman, let’s sit down before we both collapse.”
They huddled together on the floor of the forest, avoiding the sight of the dead tiger and trying to calm their shattered nerves.
“I have a confession to make,” she said calmly. “I knew I’d have to tell you eventually. Now I must tell you … before something else happens.”
Seamus stirred uneasily. She was a complex mixture of woman, comic mimic, grateful child, passionate lover, and fiercely quick soldier. The last had been quiet lately as she docilely followed her husband through the jungle. Don’t kid yourself, Seamus Finnbar O’Neill, she’s still a handful.
“Confess away, darling girl.”
“No Zylongi maiden strips for a stranger the way I did that first night. I was shameful.”
“Sure now, I didn’t mind getting a first view—” he held her close “—of the merchandise, if you take my meaning. They’re not bad breasts, you know. I mean I’ve seen better. Good breasts, not great ones, you know. Now on the planet Cork…”
“Be quiet,” she insisted primly. “I’ll not be distracted by your foolishness. I wanted to seduce you. I was terribly attracted to you the first moment I saw you … that’s why I was so rude, understand?”
“I think so.”
“I thought I would die soon; I wanted to be ravished once before I died; a red-bearded god would be better than most lovers; so … well, you know what I did.”
“I do.…”
“Then I learned what love was.…”
“Ah. What is it now?”
“The way you treated me, kind and gentle and good man that you were. I thought it was all violence and pleasure. I fell completely in love with you then. It was hard during the mission because I didn’t know who you were. But I’ve wanted you since that night.”
“And you finally got me?”
She nodded, her head against his chest.
“Now what is it that you’re sorry for in this whole disgraceful story of seducing the innocent space bum?”
She considered carefully. “Nothing, I guess.”
“Herself says that when we know what it is really like to love and be loved, we know what God is like.”
“How beautiful. Your god—Jesus, is it?—feels about me like I do about you? He loves me the way you love me?”
“Well, now, Jesus is involved in it all, if you take my meaning, but I guess the answer is yes.”
“That’s what Deirdre says?”
“Ah … the woman’s name keeps coming up.” He thought for a few seconds. “Were you following me that night?”
“Of course,” she seemed surprised that he asked. “I knew the Fourth Secretary feared you and that you needed someone to take care of you.”
“From saber-toothed tigers and Fourth Secretaries, deliver us, O Lord.” Seamus rather liked the turn of phrase.
“What does that mean?”
“It’s a prayer to my guardian angel … they’re spirits God sends to take care of us.”
“Your god is so wonderful. Just like you.” She snuggled close to him. “I think I’m ready now to make love, Seamus.”
“I was afraid that would happen.”
Afterward, when she slept complacently in his arms, Seamus wondered why the great need to confess what should have been obvious to any man who was smart enough to realize that he was the pursued and not the pursuer.
“Someone as smart as me, in other words,” he muttered ruefully.
* * *
Late the next day they encountered a band of well-armed hordi. Again it was Marjetta who was alert to the danger first.
She sniffed the air. “Someone coming, Geemie, take cover.”
It was an order, not a request. O’Neill did what he was told and followed her into a cluster of crimson bushes that reminded his guilty conscience of the Cardinal herself.
Sure enough, a band of about forty hordi males, with females and young trailing behind, padded down the side of the lake, armed to the teeth with knives, spears, and clubs almost as big as they were. On the lake itself several large canoes, jammed with more weapons and supplies and steered by a massive rudder, were drifting at the same speed the aborigines were walking.
O’Neill and his woman waited motionless till the band had disappeared.
“We wouldn’t have provided much more than an appetizer for that crowd,” he said when she rose from the bushes.
“It’s a war party, not a hunting party,” she said thoughtfully. “Marching toward the City.”
“They’re going to storm the City with spears and clubs?”
“As part of Narth’s army. He’ll send them across the River first to see if the laser weapons are operational. If they die, then Narth knows not to attack.”
“He’s dead.”
“Is he?” she asked skeptically. “I hope so.”
“So the Outsiders don’t think the hordi are human either?”
“Of course not. They’ll use them and kill them too. Why should they be any different from us?”
“But you think they’re human?”
“Sometimes I think they’re more human than we are. And, however they may have come here, they were here first.”
“So even if … I mean after we win in the City, we will have to do something about them, won’t we?”
She stooped to pick up her pack. “What would you do, Seamus O’Neill, to reverse a thousand years of mistakes?”
Well, now that was a very intelligent question. “I’d sign up Quars to begin negotiations with them. He’s got his head screwed on right.”
She smiled proudly. “That’s my Seamus. No one in this whole world would have thought of that.”
Seamus was not sure that he agreed or that her proud smile was justified. What do I know about politics?
“Freedom for everyone, darling—” she squeezed his arm “—including those poor little creatures.”
“For everyone,” he agreed with a certain lack of enthusiasm.
“Come, we must hurry to the City before it is too late. Freedom for everyone!”