The Totems of Abydos - By John Norman Page 0,216

to be implanted in certain females, that the next generation be produced.”

“But what of the eggs removed from me?” she asked.

“It seems likely that they will have been fertilized by this time,” said Brenner.

“How so?” she asked.

“Doubtless not all my seed was required for the usual purposes of the Pons,” he said.

“We could have children,” she asked.

“Quite possibly,” said Brenner. “Embryos might be raised in vitro, as I once was. Pons are aware of such techniques, and, possibly, their technology makes them available to them. More simply, host mothers might be used.”

“But why would they do such things?” she asked.

“It might be a kindness toward me, or you, or us,” said Brenner. “It might be an experiment. It might be a desperate venture to invigorate their gene pool. It might be all three. It might be something else. Who knows?”

“I am then twice your mate,” she said.

“Yes,” said Brenner.

“Are you content?” she asked.

“I would not have it otherwise,” he said.

“Put your face to my belly,” she said.

Puzzled, Brenner did so, placing his snout down to her belly, and then, softly, putting his cheek against that soft, rounded sweetness.

Brenner suddenly sprang back. “It cannot be!” he said.

“Is it so hard to understand?” she asked. “You see, I am indeed twice your mate.”

“No!” said Brenner.

“I am the mother,” she purred.

“They must be killed,” he said. He had felt, against his cheek, stirring, the movement of living creatures, hidden within her.

“Why?” she asked.

“Surely it is clear!” he exclaimed. “They will not be of us. They are of these other bodies. Whatever they are, they are not ours. They are lions. Lions, I tell you. Wild, terrible beasts. Their genes are not ours. They will be alien to us. They are bred for the hunt, the kill.”

“They are ours now,” she said. “Is the seed within us not ours now, as the memories, the bodies, the limbs, the tongue, and claws?”

“They are not ours!” said Brenner.

“They are from our seed, yours and mine, as we are now,” she said. “Thus, they are ours. Or, if you prefer to think of the matter in this manner, we will merely keep them and love them, in memory of those majestic, innocent, lost beasts whose bodies we now occupy. We will care then for our children, or for their children, if you wish, or, perhaps better, simply for the children, who are both ours and theirs.”

“They must be killed,” said Brenner.

“You will not harm them,” she said. “I will defend them with my very life.”

“Why?” said Brenner.

“I am the mother,” she said.

“It means the end of the Pons, the death of the other children, mine, and ours,” said Brenner.

“Not at all,” she said.

“It means the end of the pact,” said Brenner.

“It means,” she said, “a new pact.”

Brenner walked away, and turned, and came back.

“You could not kill them,” she informed him.

Brenner considered the matter, in confusion, in turmoil. Then he said, “No, I could not kill them.”

“We will teach them to speak,” she said, confidently.

“They will not have the intelligence for that,” he said.

“You have beast memories,” she said. “Do they seem those of a stupid animal?”

“No,” admitted Brenner.

“They probably just never thought about speaking,” she said. “That is really a very unusual sort of thing, not the sort of thing that a beast would be likely to think about. Suppose a baby was raised in the woods. Do you think it would be likely, apart from others doing such things, to think about speaking?”

“I assume not,” said Brenner.

“If they cannot form suitable sounds,” she said, “we will teach them another way to speak, by use of the head, or paws, or by making marks on the ground, such things.”

“We could drive them away, when they come of age,” said Brenner.

“Or inform them that they must leave,” she said.

“Yes,” said Brenner.

“They might come back,” she said.

“Woe to the Pons,” he said.

“Not necessarily,” she said.

“You seem very optimistic,” Brenner observed.

“I am a mother,” she said.

“I do not understand how this could come about,” said Brenner, suddenly.

“Why not?” she asked, puzzled.

“The Pons are not stupid,” he said. “They must have understood such a thing could happen.”

“I see,” she said.

“Of course,” said Brenner.

“You were not neutered,” she pointed out.

“That would not have made sense, given the intent of the pact,” said Brenner. “It would have rendered me more passive, less aggressive, less capable of maintaining, and defending, the territory.”

“You are puzzled that I was not spayed?” she said.

“Yes,” he said.

“But do you not think that might have made me a

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