Curse of the Legion

by Marshall S. Thomas

  "I'll be damned." The biogen troopers continued marching past. There must have been thousands of them. Marching to their deaths, probably.

  "Reinforcements. We really need them, Thinker."

  "No human worlds responded?"

  "Not a one!"

  "I'll be damned." It gave me a cold thrill, watching those lovely, fearless troopers boldly marching past in the dust.

  "I'll tell you one thing," Dragon said. "Anyone who says anything against biogens in my presence is going to get a quick fist in the face."

  "Yeah. I agree." I knew the biogens had just sealed an eternal alliance with ConFree and the Legion, whether they knew it or not. We didn't give a damn for laws, or words, or treaties. That was all crap. What counted was action. And if you stood by our side in the face of death we'd stand by your side too. Forever! It didn't matter who you were—Outworlder, Assidic, Cyrillian, even Mocains. You didn't even have to be human. Stand the night watch with us, and we'll never forget you. Bleed for ConFree, and ConFree will bleed for you. That's what we believed. Blood for blood—that was our creed.

  Chapter 13

  Flags of our Ancestors

  "How are the arms now?" CzeLu asked me. CzeLu was that sweet little Assidic nurse that had been assigned to my case. She always brought a little sunshine into the ward with her. I needed it. I was still in the airbed and getting sick of the place.

  "Better, I guess. Still stings like hell." I examined my arms, which they had unwrapped two days ago. Bright, moist pink skin, glistening with biochem and biomim. The lifies could do virtually anything by stimulating the body's natural growth processes. The accelerated growth process was miraculous, but uncomfortable. I knew I shouldn't complain. My hands were still in biogloves, and my legs were also still encased in biogro sheaths. I was supposed to be taking it easy with the legs—the nerves were still re-growing.

  "Guess what? I've got a date with your friend Dragon," CzeLu said.

  "What? But he's not even here. He's off doing a recon."

  "Yes. But he said when he gets back he'll take me out somewhere."

  If he survives, I thought.

  "Can I ask you for some advice, sir?"

  "Of course."

  "I guess I'm getting kind of scared. Dragon—what's he like?"

  "He's probably my closest friend. He's—a warrior. I don't know how else to describe him."

  "Is he a…good person?"

  "Yes. He is."

  "Does he have a girl friend?"

  "Well…not right now. As far as I know."

  "Do you think I should go out with him?"

  "Do it. But be careful."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I told you before—men are pigs. We all are. Even nice guys like Dragon. Assuming he survives this recon mission, he'll be in a mood to celebrate. Just remember, you're the one who decides what happens. I'd advise you not to get carried away."

  She was blushing. Blushing! "I wouldn't do anything…that I shouldn't," she said, avoiding my eyes. She evidently wasn't as bold as she had pretended to be when she first mentioned Dragon.

  Advice for the lovelorn. What in Deadman's name was I doing here? Dragon would probably kill me if he learned what advice I had given this girl.

  ###

  I had hot, stifling dreams about Priestess and Millie and the children. I would wake in the night, burning, and gasp for air, bathed in sweat. I never quite got a grasp on the dreams, but I knew it was not good. I felt guilty about Priestess and Millie, but I felt more guilty about Moontouch. What a fool I was—and I was giving advice about romance? It was hopeless. We were right in the heart of a war, on Andrion 2, and it was just starting. There would be no personal interstellar commo of any sort, until the situation stabilized. And it didn't look like it was going to stabilize any time soon. Priestess and Millie had no idea whether I was alive or dead, and I had no way of telling them, not unless I wanted to play criminal games with highly classified Legion starlinks and Q-links, and I didn't. The penalties were too severe. It was best if they didn't know, I told myself. They'd just worry.

  ###

  "Victory, Slayer! Your warriors return!" I had been dozing in the garden, dappled in sunlight, floating away in the warmth, propped up in an airlounge, totally relaxed. I popped my eyes open. Deadeye stood before me, in Lizzie and skins, seemingly exhausted, E dangling from one shoulder, psybloc unit at his throat. His narrow face was still daubed with deathpaint and his long hair was uncut—he had vowed it would not be cut until the invaders were driven from his world. Another Taka was beside him—young, slim, spattered with dirt, another longhair, E and…

  "Stormdawn!" I was stunned. It was Stormdawn, my son, standing almost at attention beside Deadeye, also in skins and Lizzie, hauling an E, psybloc at his shoulder. He looked completely serious, even with the deathpaint.

  I reached out my arms. He hesitated a moment, then dropped to his knees and let me embrace him. He seemed embarrassed. I held him tightly for a long, long time, as my eyes filled with tears. Alive! He's alive! My own son, my first son, tall and rangy, still growing but as tall as I was, muscles like stone, dirty and sweaty, his heart beating against mine. I could hardly believe it. Was I dreaming this? Could this be real?

  "Your son is a mighty warrior, Slayer. He was leading our forces against the Undead in Farside Base. He killed many Undead—their green blood soaks the fields of Agentos, and their bones are being picked clean by the deathbirds."

  "I am pleased," I whispered in Taka. It was a Taka greeting, father to son.

  "I honor my Father," Stormdawn said as I loosened my grip and he got to his feet. He did not look happy. His face was twisted with grief and tragedy.

  "When Stormdawn learned his mother was missing," Deadeye said, "he marched from Farside Base through half the world, through the Deadlands and over the Mountains of the Exiles to the Garden of God and Stonehall and then Southmark, and then the mountains again, and the killing fields outside Alpha Station. And everywhere he went he talked with Taka survivors, asking about Moontouch, the Guardian of the Past, asking who had seen her, and what had happened. I too was doing this, after the battle of Alpha Station. I met your son by chance, in a refugee camp in the forests. I bowed my knee, and confessed my failure, and offered my throat to his knife. He did not kill me, but said he was the one who would have to die. We talked and I told him all I had learned, and he told me all he had learned. We now know the awful fate of your wife, my Queen, Stormdawn's mother, who is the beating heart of the Taka race. We know!" And, I swear, Deadeye was on the verge of tears. I had never seen that before. An icy fear knotted my stomach.

  "What is this foolish talk of throats and knives and failure and death?" I exclaimed. I think I was too scared to ask what had happened to Moontouch. "You are both mighty warriors! You have defeated a fearsome foe, and liberated your race from slavery. You will both be honored, by the Taka nation."

  "No, Slayer. I failed to defend my Queen, and so did her son. We will both die, by our own hands. But our fate is of no importance. First we must tell you what we learned." He was almost in agony. I knew it was very bad news. He pulled a leather scroll from a belt pouch and unrolled it. It was covered with tiny runes. He handed it to me, almost ceremoniously. "We spoke with hundreds. Many had seen our Queen, at different places. We know where she went. This is her story." He paused, looking into the distance. He didn't need to consult the scroll. He knew it by heart.

  "I led the Queen's Guard at Stonehall," Deadeye said, "And your son Stormdawn was with me. When the Undead ships attacked our world, we led the Queen into the Underway. The first attack was at Alpha Station. The Undead seized the station quickly with much fighting. The Legion soldiers were driven from the station but the survivors would not surrender and they appealed for our help. We helped them. We sent many of our warriors from Stonehall to the battle at Alpha Station. Stormdawn went with them, as a prince should, to defend his people from the alien intruders—and later he led our forces in the atta
ck against Farside Base, on the other side of the world. Before he left, I promised him that I would defend our Queen, or die." Deadeye paused again. His face was quivering, and he looked again to be on the verge of tears.

  "The Undead then attacked Stonehall, and broke into the Queen's Underway. I led her to safety into the forests, past Mount Light and then to the Swamp of Lost Souls and finally to Southmark and safety in the Tomb of the Kings. I felt a great relief when we arrived, as I knew our Queen would be safe there. But Moontouch was not happy. She said she was not a coward, to run and hide from her nation's enemies when her people were fighting and dying. The runners never stopped, bringing us fresh news every day. Our Queen urged me to lead the counterattack against the Undead at Stonehall. How could I refuse? I knew she was safe at Southmark. But I had promised Stormdawn!

  "When I hesitated she laughed at me and called me a woman. She was right, I thought. How could I not fight these evil foes, who dared to tread on the sacred soil of the Sunmarch? We unfurled the ancient battle flags of our ancestors from the Tomb of the Kings and Moontouch kissed them and we pledged her victory or death. I left a strong guard with her, all pledged to die. I gathered our forces along the way and returned to Stonehall to lead the fight. We met some Legion soldiers who gave us E's and psybloc. And then we showed the Undead they made a big mistake in attacking us."

  Two Legion fighters shot overhead, rattling the station—dead black darts, trailing misty contrails through the clear blue sky. Deadeye ignored them.

  "You know about Mount Light," he said softly. "It focuses all the power of our world. The O's landed some of their ships at Mount Light. I had not been expecting it. My Queen Moontouch learned about it before we did in the forests around Stonehall. Mount Light is a sacred site. It had to be defended, and the Queen's Guard was closest. The Queen led her warriors to Mount Light, and set the forests afire, and scaled the cliffs along the ancient's secret road, and attacked the Undead right on the top of the mountain. The Queen's guard had E's but no psybloc. It was there, on the sacred summit of Mount Light, that our Queen was captured by the Undead. All of our warriors were killed or captured. You know resistance is impossible without the psybloc. The Queen knew that too. So did her guard. But Mount Light had to be defended. We owe our ancestors nothing less. Your wife was a courageous leader. She feared nothing."

  "What else did you learn about her fate?" I asked.

  "She was next seen in Alpha Station, by a long list of Taka—their names are on the scroll, and the dates when she was there. She was placed with a group of captives, Taka and Legion, mostly women and children, who were held in a large room with a roof like a golden bowl."

  "The auditorium!"

  "Yes. She tried to calm her people, assuring them that the Gods of the Dead would avenge them, and strike the Undead down. She prayed to all our Gods, and promised liberation. She said she could see the Undead fleeing our world in panic, their unholy ships falling from the sky. She blessed the women and the children, touching them with her hands, promising immortality and happiness in the next world, and they cried with joy.

  "Then everyone was moved out of the Golden Bowl. I have noted the date. Our Queen was next seen at the starport, the following day, in the hall of the moving roads."

  "The loading dock."

  "Yes. Again she was surrounded by her people, and we have the names of those who survived, and what they said. On that day a small Undead ship landed, and a door opened in its underside and a ramp came down. One of the Undead approached the Taka captives and gestured towards the ship. Our people shrunk back in horror, but our Queen stepped forward bravely and led her people into the ship. There was not room for all the Taka, so some survived. The ship departed and we know not where it went. This was the day before the Legion attacked Alpha Station."

  "The ship?" I asked.

  "The bottom of the scroll," Deadeye said. I took a look. It was a perfect colored sketch of an Omni shuttle.

  "Sweety?" I asked my tacmod. It was clipped to my hospital gown.

  "This is an accurate rendition of an Omni Class VAG troop shuttle," Sweety responded. "This ship is used for rapid delivery of troops and equipment between upside and downside Omni units."

  "So you see, Slayer, she is gone," Deadeye concluded.

  "You have provided me with valuable, accurate information on my wife," I said, rolling up the scroll. "I thank you. I thank you both."

  "She is gone from our world," Deadeye repeated. "I have failed in my sacred duty. Although the flags of our ancestors wave over Stonehall once again, I have failed to defend my Queen. I must now face my ancestors, and confess my faults."

  "I too have failed," Stormdawn declared. "When my mother met her fate, I was far away, helping our Legion brothers at Farside Base. Now she is gone. I must also face my ancestors. It is not a sad occasion, but a joyous one—to see Those Who Have Gone Before! My mother told me often to look forward to this day! We invite you to watch the ceremony, Father."

  "I am surprised that brave warriors such as you two are abandoning your sacred pledges to defend your Queen," I said softly. "Perhaps you prefer the easier road. I too have failed to fulfill my quest, but I will never cease my efforts. Why do you think I came home? I came home to see my wife and my son and my blood brother. My wife is still missing. Do you think I am going to stop looking? I am not that weak."

  "She is gone, Slayer," Deadeye said.

  "She is alive!"

  "But she was taken by the Undead, into the stars. She is surely…" Stormdawn objected.

  "Don't you dare say it!" I snarled. "She is alive! And I am going to find her! I will use the information you gave me to track her down. And I will find her. Alive! I will need brave warriors for that task, but I see you two cannot help me. I will tell Moontouch of your deaths when I find her. Get out of my sight."

  They were both stunned. Stormdawn blinked back the tears, and Deadeye was as pale as death. Then they both fell to their knees and begged my forgiveness and promised to follow me until the stars froze, all the way to the heart of the Undead's evil realm and out the other side and on, forever, until we liberated Moontouch from her captors.

  I knew they meant it. I knew I'd need them. Now all I had to do was decide what to do. And I didn't even know where to begin.

  Chapter 14

  The Holy Dead

  The view from atop the Alpha Station Body Shop complex was pretty spectacular. The hospital rose up eight stories to a roof topped by an aircar landing pad for emergencies. The rest of the roof was set up with plex tables and airchairs, and the walking wounded often came up to escape the wards and take in the view. I did it a lot, once the sheaths came off my legs and I was hobbling around with a cane. I liked to watch the sun set and the stars come out. At dusk it was still and hushed. This particular evening there were only a few other wounded in the lengthening shadows, and the air was clear and cool. I wondered if it was going to rain. Off to the northwest horizon I could see a vague purple glow—it was the Blue Mountains that led all the way to Stormport and the Cold Coast. To the northeast a dirty brown haze was barely visible. The Deadlands, leading into a fearsome desert. And all around the Station a vast forest of colorful flowertrees spread, giving way here and there to more open fields, scattered with dato trees. Air angels floated gracefully past, riding the breeze. I turned my head to the south, and the Mountains of the Exiles rose up from the horizon, a mighty bulwark stretching almost as far as I could see. Beyond that, I knew, were the Garden of God and Stonehall and Mount Light and Southmark and the Swamp of Lost Souls. An alien world, I thought. It was my home.

  My arms were free now, and my hands, and my legs. New flesh, that had to be gently exercised, before the lifies signed off on my release. I was impatient, but willing. I knew I'd need to be in good shape, for what was coming. My legs still hurt like hell.

  I tried to keep up with the news. With the Andrion engagement over, some bloodless bureaucrat back in the Crista Cluster had ordered that all Leg
ion equipment be recovered from the Taka who had helped us. They had lists of E's and Lizzies and psybloc units that had been handed out, and now they wanted it all back, so the accounting would be complete. After all, there were some pretty serious regs against handing out good E's and hi-tech psybloc to indigenous auxiliaries.

  Standing against the railing and watching the sun drop into a glowing pool of crimson-gold blood, I thought about that. The Taka casualties had been horrific. An apocalypse, a holocaust, for the Taka race. They had died like soldiers, all of them, facing the enemy, unafraid. Dying for their people. And for us. And now we were going to take back the weapons we had desperately pressed into their hands, in our hour of greatest need? I laughed.

  I wasn't the only one who felt strongly about what the Taka had done. The original draft of our response to the directive was a two-word message that didn't leave our feelings in any doubt. Since it was also obscene, it was initially changed at higher levels to a one-word response that read, simply, NO. Cooler heads prevailed, however, and the message that ultimately went out gave good strategic reasons for allowing the Taka to retain all the equipment we had given them.

  You had to fight the enemy relentlessly—and sometimes the real enemy was back in your own Hqs.

  "I told you to be careful." A clear, feminine voice. "You don't ever listen, do you?" I turned. A tall, lanky girl stood before me in black fatigues, dark hair carelessly rumpled, a tired pale face and liquid eyes shining with emotion. She dropped a traveling bag to the deck and reached out to me.

  "Millie!" I could hardly believe it. Millie in my arms, gasping, throwing her arms around me, her sweat like an exotic perfume, almost knocking me off my feet. I held on and didn't let go for a long, long time. She was trembling. Her cheeks were moist.

  "Are you all right?" she asked.

  "Wounded. Recovering," I said. "I'm fine."