Slave of the Legion

by Marshall S. Thomas

  "What do you mean, Merlin?"

  "Look at their tactics. They shower a target world with ships—hundreds of them. The ships discharge hordes of O's. The O's split up and wander all over the place, slaughtering everyone they see until the opposition ceases. Then they round up the survivors. But there's no grand strategy, there's no coordination. It's just individual O's, doing their own thing, and we can't stop a single one and eventually they take the whole planet."

  "But they are organized," I objected. "They're more advanced than we are. They've got starships, bases, cities maybe."

  "Yes, but look at how they fight us. One by one. Doesn't that scare you?"

  "Scare me? It would scare me if it wasn't one by one!"

  "Wrong, Thinker. Wrong. Think about it. I've said it before. They're not taking us seriously, they're not organized. We're a minor inconvenience to them. We're pests, to be swatted. If we ever really annoy them, they may decide to respond appropriately. Then we'll be in serious trouble. And our offensive, right here, right now, may be just the thing."

  "Are you saying they're not fighting us?"

  "That's exactly what I'm saying. We've been fighting them, for hundreds of years, but they haven't really noticed. That's scary as hell to me."

  It was a bad thought. I looked up. It was snowing heavier now, the flakes landing right on my face. The air was icy cold and pure.

  "Well, when Mother gets through with them, they'll know they've been in a fight—I guarantee it." Psycho examined his Manlink. She was his mistress, cold and silent and absolutely deadly. He loved her, without shame.

  "Where do they come from, Merlin?" I asked.

  "They're from so far away that we cannot imagine it," he replied. "From far back in time, from the very edge of the galaxy, from a blackened cinder circling a dead star, lost in a cosmic catastrophe. Now the whole race is on the move, and they're not going to let it happen again."

  "That's pretty good," I said. Merlin didn't know, of course. Nobody knew—not even after all this time. Their starships detonated, antimat, whenever we hit one. We had no idea where they came from.

  "Their genetics are somewhat similar to ours," Merlin continued, "believe it or not. They evidently consume human hemoglobin, and probably flesh as well. Nobody knows for sure. But they certainly take a lot of prisoners."

  "Thanks, Merlin. I needed that," I said wearily.

  "Everybody tenners here?" Snow Leopard stepped in from outside, his faceplate visor up. He was pale as death but his pink eyes were alive—I think I trusted him more than anyone I'd ever known.

  "Yeah, we're fine."

  "Don't get too comfortable. We'll be moving out in a few marks." He slumped against a shredded bulkhead, staring into space.

  "How's Fourteen doing?" Dragon asked. Speedy was outside, with the others.

  "Merlin, you were close to him, weren't you?" Snow Leopard asked.

  "Sorry, One—the guy's just fallen apart. There's no talking to him anymore. He just doesn't want to hear it."

  "He's bad news, One," Psycho said. Snow Leopard did not respond. But I knew he would deal with the problem, one way or another.

  "How about our weapons, Merlin," I asked. "Will all this fancy hardware really work?"

  "Don't worry about the weapons," Merlin said. "We're set—and you can thank the techs. The stuff we used on Mongera was so primitive I'm amazed we survived. But the E2…" He lifted his weapon to examine it. "It's specifically engineered to bust O's. Fire canister x and you shatter the mag shields and explode the O simultaneously. Then you can finish him off with whatever you want—more x, biobloc, plasma, even laser. Once the shields are down, he's dead meat."

  "Forget it, gang," Psycho interrupted. "My tacstars are tipped with magbusters now. You'll never get close to the O's. I'll get 'em first."

  "How about the O's psypower?" I asked. "It's not going to give us any trouble?"

  "I don't see how," Merlin said. "We had to fill the skies with psybloc last time. This time we carry it with us. We've got the freqs and as soon as the O projects, our helmet units will counter." Our A-suit helmets had been modified and were now topped with psybloc transmitters.

  "It'll make us easy to spot," Dragon said. The psybloc was not subtle when activated. It was kind of like walking around under a fireworks display.

  "The important thing is, they won't be able to control us," Merlin said. "And you've all got plenty of psybloc grenades. If you're ever in doubt, use 'em! You have no idea how wonderful this psybloc is. Our fathers died by the billions, helpless in the power of the O's. But the Legion has just changed that. It's payback time, gentlemen."

  Psycho laughed. "I had no idea you were such a hardcore, Merlin."

  "It was Mongera," Snow Leopard said quietly. "It was Beta, it was Badboy—it was us. We did it, gang. We killed the first O, and brought its stinking carcass back to the lifies. Everything flows from that one dead O. We're all going down in history, guys. When they look for the turning point, they'll find Mongera—and Beta, and Gamma. They'll find the Black Twelfth." History—that was One's obsession. Well, he was probably right. Maybe it was our destiny to kill that original O, and then die on Uldo along with the rest of the 12th. Fine—let it be so. But we'd go down fighting, I knew. They couldn't deny us that.

  ###

  We were walking into a silent, holy snowfall. Fat white snowflakes drifted down gently, covering the ground, transforming it all. The sky was all white as well. It all seemed so clean, so pure—as if we were walking through heaven. Most of the wreckage from the Eighth was gone by now—we were on the outer fringes of the Cauldron.

  "How you doing, Thirteen?" I asked. I don't know why I was so worried about Twister, but I was. I felt she was a part of our squad now. I didn't feel the same about Speedy.

  "Thanks, sir. I'm here. You're not going to lose me—no way."

  "Good. That's great! You just stay close, Twister. You need any help, I'll be there. Remember it!"

  "Thank you…Thinker."

  "ALERT! ENERGY SPHERE!" Sweety's metallic voice echoed harshly in my ears. "Two energy spheres, as marked! Recommend biodee!"

  "Go to ground!" Snow Leopard ordered. "Freeze! Weapons on biodee!" I dropped to one knee, my E up, making the adjustment. The tacmap was a blizzard of chaff, but I could see two phospho specks, fading in and out, off to the north, heading roughly east.

  "They may not spot us," Snow Leopard said.

  "Spheres changing course," Sweety informed us. "Spheres reversing direction, spheres heading for our zero."

  "They've spotted us!" Snow Leopard said. "These ones were probably searching for us. All right, gang, I want only biodee—no need for anything else. We did these guys on Mongera—fire at my command!"

  "Two energy spheres approaching—spheres gaining altitude, spheres may dive from above, recommend auto biodee." Absolutely right, Sweety, absolutely right! My heart was thumping. I watched the spheres on the tacmap, shooting up into the snowy sky like rising fireworks, then hovering for one horrible instant at the top of the arc.

  "I still have two spheres," Sweety added. Now—they dropped on the tacmap, falling straight down, coming right at us.

  "Spheres attacking!" These were the weapons that had decimated Gamma, on Andrion 3. The spheres home in on the appropriate genetic material and merge with it, burning until all life is gone—a horrible death. The spheres killed five from Gamma squad and on Mongera, it was a sphere that killed Warhound.

  "Fire," Snow Leopard said calmly. Two glowing stars on my faceplate, growing, shaking, spitting sparks, coming right at us!

  We all fired straight up and two white-hot explosions suddenly lit up the sky, glittering green cores, a tremendous double bang shattering my ears. A shock wave bounced off my armor, phospho white tracers spitting flame, covering the entire sky.

  "Spheres destroyed," Sweety informed me. Genetic bullets, I thought—that's biodee. Eat flesh, you bastards, eat flesh and die!

  "Burn in hell!" Valkyrie mutte
red.

  "That was not so bad, huh guys?" Merlin said.

  "ALERT! Energy spheres approaching!" Sweety broke in. "I detect additional energy spheres—two, three, as marked. Attention! Four, five, as—attention! Six, seven…Alert! Alert! I have…eleven, twelve…fifteen…eighteen. Eighteen energy spheres, as marked, vectoring in on our zero. We are under attack! Spheres approaching from low, medium, high altitudes! Recommend full auto biodee!"

  "Oh scut! No! No!" Speedy choked.

  "Silence!" Snow Leopard snapped. "Fighting circle—now! Back to back! On me!" I ran through the snow to our One in a blind panic, and suddenly we were all there, a massive clash of cenite metal coming together as one, twelve armored troopers back to back, E's pointing up and out. The spheres on my tacmap circled lazily through the sky, gliding toward us, and it appeared they were in no hurry at all. Gildron snarled, roaring, spitting fury. Speedy cried, hysterical. The fighting circle was our only option—otherwise we'd all be shooting ourselves in the horrific firefight orgy that was coming.

  "Keep an eye on the sky—Five, Eight, you're responsible for whatever comes at us from directly overhead."

  "Tenners."

  "Ten." We were back to back, cenite against cenite, the metal screeching like wounded beasts. Charged and terrified, as the spheres came closer and closer. They were all around us, hugging the ground, floating in the sky, high above us, taking their time.

  "Total of twenty-two spheres," Sweety informed us coldly.

  "The fools have got us surrounded," Psycho said happily. "They're in trouble now!"

  Suddenly they were there, coming right at us, a snowy sky full of glowing stars rushing at us like comets, drawn irresistibly by our genetics, absolutely lovely and totally deadly. Only biodee could stop them, and if even one sphere got past the biodee, someone would die.

  "Fire at will," Snow Leopard said calmly. "Full auto biodee." We opened up, and the earth shook. I fired on full auto, snapping my E from one target to another and the spheres burst white-hot in my face, titanic explosions, rattling my teeth, deafening me. Spheres blasted apart all around us, showering us with tracers, but I had eyes only for what was coming for me, one down low, almost rolling over the ground. I sprayed biodee and it erupted, flash, phospho green core, yellow streaks all over the sky, another coming at me on the left, medium altitude, I fired up at it and it ran into the biodee and erupted, a titanic bang. I snapped the E back to the right, high altitude, right there, dropping like a meteor, coming right at me. I centered it in my sights and it exploded, another dazzling white-hot blast, a sharp electronic crack. The sky flashed, flamed and rained shrapnel, the ground hissing, and we continued firing.

  "Two of them above!"

  "I got 'em! I got 'em!"

  "Over there!"

  "Die, you bastard!"

  "I got another!"

  "Get 'em, Valkyrie, eat 'em up!"

  "Eat that! Eat that, O! Burn in hell!"

  "I count seventeen destroyed," Sweety informed me. "Five still functional!"

  "Get that bastard!" Another explosion, lighting us up. My flesh was ice cold.

  "Over there—over there!" We all fired, hunting them down, breaking away from the circle now, hungry for blood. Two more erupted, blinding flashes, blown all to hell.

  "Maintain the circle!"

  "Two spheres still functional!" Wild, frightening cheers, right in my ears.

  "I got him! I got him!" More firing—everyone was firing. Another white flash rocked me back on my boot heels.

  "The last guy is above—here he comes!" Somebody laughed. The sky was full of biodee. I aimed into the sky, and fired on auto.

  One last flash, a tremendous boom, and suddenly it was still. The snow fell silently, absolutely lovely. I was ice cold and shaking.

  "Spheres all destroyed," Sweety reported calmly.

  Psycho laughed, delighted. "Wasn't that fun? Hey, Speedy, how ya doing? Did you get any?" But Speedy was on his knees, sobbing.

  "Is everyone all right?" Snow Leopard asked.

  "I got two of them for sure, Thinker!" Twister said. She sounded excited.

  "That's great, Twister—welcome to Beta!"

  "Valkyrie, did you see me zap that one that was diving for us?" Scrapper asked. "God, that felt good!"

  "Felt good?" Valkyrie laughed. "I'll tell ya later how good it felt, Scrapper. I swear to Deadman!"

  "Hey, the ape was great!" Psycho exclaimed. "He was blowing them away!"

  "His name is Gildron," Tara said.

  "Aw right, Gildron," Psycho said. "Gildron, you're all right!"

  Gildron snarled in return and raised his E, a massive, frightening figure, clad in black armor. "Keer saveer!" he said. "Keer saveer!"

  We all laughed. "Keer saveer," Psycho repeated. "You got it, Gildron! Keer saveer!"

  "All right, settle down," Snow Leopard ordered. "There's no doubt the O's know where we are now. We can expect more spheres—and other nasty surprises. Let's get moving."

  "You're not going on with the mission?" Speedy gasped in surprise. "We're compromised. They've got us zeroed!"

  "We continue with the mission," Snow Leopard replied calmly. "Let's go."

  "But we can't go on! We can't! They know where we are! The mission's failed! They'll kill us! They'll kill us all!"

  "Silence in the ranks," Valkyrie said. "Fourteen, turn that off. Let's go, guys."

  "But we're going to die! We're all going to die! We can't go on! It's crazy!"

  "Shut your stinking trap," Valkyrie said coldly, "and start marching—or we leave you here."

  Speedy followed, sobbing. We were all sick of him. He didn't have a single friend in the squad—it was sad. Merlin and Psycho had tried to bring him along, but it hadn't worked. There was something wrong with the fellow. He certainly didn't belong in a Legion squad.

  Chapter 7

  Slave of the Legion

  "No movement—keep it quiet." It was still snowing. We were all on guard, straining to see, E's at the ready. I was on one knee. The tacmod flickered, still trash, but we knew it was out there somewhere.

  "How many?" Valkyrie asked.

  "Looks like only one," Snow Leopard replied. I could see the two of them off to my left, ghostly figures in the snow. It was a white world, a snow sky.

  "What is it, Wester?" Tara whispered.

  "Snake," I replied. "Stay alert. They'll be hard to spot in the snow." I kept looking around. The damned things could fall out of the sky silently and wrap around you in a frac.

  "Remember, if it's a snake, use flame," Valkyrie said. "If it grabs anybody, just torch him. It needs a few fracs to start the process."

  "Use flame, Gildron," Tara said.

  "Sa-nake," Gildron responded.

  "I don't see anything," Snow Leopard said.

  "It may be out of range," Valkyrie replied.

  We waited. Gildron's massive form loomed not far away. He was looking around alertly, his E at his shoulder. He was a lot smarter than he looked. I went on private to Tara.

  "What's his story, Tara?"

  "What's whose story?"

  "Gildron. Where did you get him?"

  "You don't want to know where. It was a slave market—one of the worst I've seen. They had him in a black pit, half full of icy water. They fed him dead sewer rats. Gildron was so savage and wild that the slavers were terrified of him. Normally, I would have never touched him. But something strange happened as I looked down at him and he looked up at me, out of that horrid pit. It's hard to describe it to a deadhead. But there was an inner peace between us. And to me, it was so pure and clean that it was like a bolt of lightning. I knew I had to have him. The slavers practically gave him away, they were so anxious to get rid of him."

  "And you've lived happily ever after?" I was still nervously scanning the snowy skies, but it seemed quiet.

  "Something like that. They brought him to the ship naked, in chains. I took the chains off while my Cyrillians stood by nervously with their SG's set to
vac. It wasn't necessary—I could read his mind and it was all peace, for me. I reached out and touched him, and he reached out and touched me, as gentle as a baby. I've never understood why. But he's been with me ever since."

  "Where did he come from—originally?"

  "It's a mystery. He's the only known specimen of his race. Probably a slaver raid on some unknown world. He's all alone, you see—just like me."

  "Just how retarded is he? Sometimes he seems pretty sharp."

  "He's learned a lot. There's not much in his mind. Wherever he came from, it was a simple world. I'd say his original environment did not require a great deal of thought. I imagine it was a very pleasant place."

  "Well, looks like there's nothing there." Snow Leopard said abruptly.

  "All clear," Valkyrie said. "Beta advance." We got up and resumed the march. I kept the safety off, the E set to flame. And still the snow fell softly, straight down, light and fluffy and pure white. It was so lovely I could hardly believe it.

  "ALERT! Aircar!" We froze, stunned.

  "What the hell…"

  "Silence!" Snow Leopard snapped.

  "AIRCAR! Approaching from the… ALERT! MULTIPLE MISSILE TRACKS! RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE DISPERSAL!"

  "Starburst!" Snow Leopard shouted. I ran for my life, blind and terrified, into the gently falling snow, my blood pumping ice cold adrenalin, my guts churning, boots slamming into the snow, gasping, the suit helping me, running like a great metal beast, every movement perfect. It was as if the A-suit was running by itself and I was trapped inside, a horrified spectator.

  "I HAVE FIVE INCOMING—SIX INCOMING—DISPERSE! DISPERSE!" I was a great cenite running machine, arms and legs swinging in perfect unison, and if anything got in the way, it was going to be flattened. Run, Thinker, run! Run for your life! I ran like a metal god, I ran like I had never run before, without thought, without hope—I knew we were dead, and I was running right into Hell.

  "Missiles are passing overhead. We are not targeted. Recommend dispersal cease."