A pair of marines snapped to attention as they approached the wardroom. The hatch slid open. The lighting was unpleasantly bright and the furnishings looked small and undersized. A mixed contingent of Navy and Marine officers backed out of the way. Poseen-Ka tried to place his back against a wall and stopped when a marine shoved him from behind. He tried to spot their commanding officer, the man or woman wearing the fanciest uniform, but couldn’t find anyone that fit the bill.
The Hudathan was surprised when a diminutive man, who was clearly overweight, stepped forward and held his hands palms-outwards. He wore simple nonmilitary clothes and radiated the same kind of strength that Norwood did.
“Greetings, War Commander Poseen-Ka. I apologize for the fact that I’m unable to speak your language and compliment you for knowing ours. My name is Sergi Chien-Chu. Colonel Norwood informs me that your traditions are different from ours. She says that you tried to exterminate the entire human race and, given the chance, will try again. Is that true?”
Poseen-Ka thought about it for a moment, decided that the strange little human would see through whatever lies he told, and opted for the truth.
“Yes, that is true.”
Chien-Chu nodded soberly. “Good. The truth makes a sturdy bridge. Let’s see if we can cross it together.”
24
About six miles south of Fort Camerone there is a military cemetery. The graves are arranged in concentric rings. There are hundreds of rings, and thousands of graves. At the center of the rings stands a fifty-foot stainless-steel obelisk. An identical inscription can be found on all four sides of the monument. It reads:
And here they lie, their blood forever mingled, the Legion of the Damned.
Planet Algeron, the Human Empire
St. James had climbed the rocky spire so many times that doing so required hardly any thought at all. His hands and feet seemed to find the proper outcroppings, handholds, and fissures of their own volition. The journey was part play and part work, since he enjoyed the process, and could inspect the construction when he reached the top.
The final part of the ascent required the legionnaire to reach up, place both hands on a piece of overhanging rock, and pull himself up. He could have left a rope to make the task easier, but took pride in the strength involved, and enjoyed the element of risk.
He made the necessary reach, allowed himself to hang free, and pulled himself up. When his chin was level with the top of the ledge, it was necessary to hold with one hand while reaching forward with the other. He did so, felt the usual lurch in the pit of his stomach, and hooked his fingers into a crevice. Once that was accomplished, it was a relatively simple matter to swing his right leg up and over, pull himself away from the precipice, and roll onto his back.
He rested for a moment, completely unaware that Natasha had watched every move from the camp below, ready to call for help if he fell. She had disappeared by the time he stood and looked around.
A great deal had changed during the last few months. A war had been won, the first campaign anyway, winter had given way to summer, and Fort Camerone had risen from its own ashes. Though not complete, the underground complex had been refurbished, and three of the outer walls had been restored.
Rows of inflatable shelters started near the bottom of the spire and marched almost to the fort itself, where they gave way to the countless cranes, dozers, robots, cyborgs, and bio bods who labored to restore the damage done by Poseen-Ka and his fleet.
St. James smiled. The concept of turning what was left of Worber’s World into a vast prisoner-of-war camp had originated with Colonel Natalie Norwood. The irony of it appealed to him, and to Chien-Chu as well, for the chubby little man had wasted little time in approving the proposal and assigning Norwood to implement it. Who better to entrust with such a weighty responsibility than the officer who knew the Hudathans best? And understood what they were capable of?
Yes, Worber’s World was a good place to stash them while Chien-Chu and Mosby worked to strengthen the fleet, and the empire itself.
Thanks to the clone’s abdication, the Cabal had experienced little difficulty in taking control, and in spite of his dislike for politics, Chien-Chu had been the almost unanimous choice to head the new government.
Refusing the title “Emperor,” the former merchant had opted for “Chief Executive” instead, and insisted that he would resign the moment that the Hudathan threat had been fully neutralized. That could take years, of course, since Poseen-Ka’s defeat had most likely served to reinforce their mass xenophobia, causing them to build new fleets.
St. James drew fresh air deep into his lungs. The Legion would be needed in the years ahead, as would the recruits drilling on the flat off to the right. Not just any recruits, mind you, but Naa recruits, who had requested and been granted the right to form their own regiment. A regiment to be officered with members of their own race.
Ex-Major Bill Booly had negotiated the agreement, using his newfound power as a chief of chiefs to obtain full citizenship for his adopted people, and the son who was on the way.
St. James still disapproved of Booly’s desertion, but admitted that the ex-legionnaire had more than made up for it by his loyalty to the Legion and his successful defense of LS-2. Besides, having met Windsweet at her father’s funeral, St. James had little difficulty understanding the attraction.
That reminded him of Natasha, the ring he had purchased, and the dinner planned for that evening. A brella squirted by, squeaked at the intruder, and headed for its nest. St. James smiled and started his descent.
William C. Dietz is the bestselling author of over thirty novels, some of which have been translated into German, Russian, and Japanese. He grew up in the Seattle area, served as a medic with the Navy and Marine Corps, graduated from the University of Washington, and has been employed as a surgical technician, college instructor, and television news writer, director, and producer. Prior to becoming a full-time writer, Dietz served as director of public relations and marketing for an international telephone company. He and his wife live near Gig Harbor, Washington. Visit his website at www.williamcdietz.com.
Ace Books by William C. Dietz
GALACTIC BOUNTY
FREEHOLD
PRISON PLANET
IMPERIAL BOUNTY
ALIEN BOUNTY
M,CADE’S BOUNTY
DRIFTER
DRIFTER’S RUN
DRIFTER’S WAR
LEGION OF THE DAMNED
BODYGUARD
THE FINAL BATTLE
WHERE THE SHIPS DIE
STEELHEART
BY BLOOD ALONE
BY FORCE OF ARMS
DEATHDAY
EARTHRISE
FOR MORE THAN GLORY
FOR THOSE WHO FELL
RUNNER
LOGOS RUN
WHEN ALL SEEMS LOST
WHEN DUTY CALLS
AT EMPIRE’S EDGE
Legion Of The Damned - 01 - Legion of the Damned Page 39
