Soldier of the Legion sotl-1

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Soldier of the Legion sotl-1 Page 28

by Marshall S. Thomas


  Boudicca embraced her tighter, and raised her head. “That’s right, so don’t ask how many dead. Like he says, it doesn’t matter. We’re all bound for death. We all die for the Legion. You’ve seen the Monument. Your number will be up there one day, and your squad name, and your image, and one more line-’Died in Service’. Those troopers didn’t die for you, they died for the Legion, for all of us.”

  “You can’t count the cost,” I said wearily. “The day the Legion starts counting the cost, we’re all done for. That will be the end of the Legion.” The trooper in the corner screamed. They were having trouble cutting the A-suit open. A shudder ran through me.

  “I suppose you’re right,” Valkyrie said. “Please forgive me. I love you both.” I squeezed her hands, and Boudicca hugged her tighter.

  “It’s all right,” I said. “It’s all right.” Boudicca didn’t say anything. I think she was trying not to cry.

  ###

  “Merlin! How is it?” Merlin floated in an air pillow in the tank. Priestess and I had just found him. The body shop was chaos. Merlin opened his eyes carefully and looked around, his face strained. We could not see his legs; they were covered.

  “Hey, guys. It hurts. Feels like somebody cut off my legs.” He attempted a smile. It didn’t work. “The lifies say it’s going to take months. Guess I screwed up, huh?”

  “You did fine, Merlin,” I said. “It was Priestess who saved you. She got you back here.”

  “Don’t you listen to him, Merlin,” Priestess said. “It was Thinker who saved you. And he saved me, too!” She had washed the blood off her hands. I had helped her. She seemed different now. I wasn’t sure how different.

  Merlin almost smiled. “I remember you dragged me out of the hall, Thinker. I’m sorry. I guess I’m a danger to everybody around me.”

  “What are you talking about, Merlin?” I was genuinely puzzled.

  “You know I don’t belong here, Thinker. I belong in a damned research lab. I don’t belong in a CAT squad. I can barely get out of an aircar without falling on my face, you know that.” He stared into the space between us, avoiding our eyes. “I’ve been selfish. I’ve been indulging my own private fantasies, at your expense. The next time, I’ll probably get somebody killed.”

  It was all a plan to drive me over the edge. First Gravelight, then Priestess, now Merlin. I tried to keep my temper. “Merlin, do you want to go back to a research lab?”

  His eyes flashed up to mine. “No.”

  “Well then, don’t! What are you whining about? We all want you back! You’re our Four, the best Four we’ve ever had, and we won’t let you go! Now shut down and turn your brain off. The damned thing is on antimat drive again. Deadman! Let’s go, Priestess.” I could not take much more of this.

  We found Dragon in the operating room, his body encased in massive slabs of life-support equipment. The lifies swarmed over his still form. Serious internal injuries, they said. It was going to be a challenge, they said. Dragon’s eyes opened. He spotted us, behind the plex. One arm snaked out from under the equipment and slowly rose, forming a clenched fist. The fist faintly trembled, but I knew it was not from weakness. The dragons on his arm writhed, furious. And I knew Dragon would be all right. I returned his salute.

  ###

  “Thinker! Have you seen Psycho?” Snow Leopard asked me, pale and sweating, still stinking of the battle. And still looking for Psycho.

  “I’m sorry, Snow Leopard. No news yet?”

  “Nothing. Nothing. Deadman! It’s such a bloody mess. Nobody knows anything.” He turned, his pale pink eyes scanning the body shop for his missing squadies. He appeared distracted and lost, slightly off balance, running one hand back through wet hair, his other hand toying with a comset. This was not at all like the cold, efficient Snow Leopard we all knew and loved. Was the whole world coming apart?

  A ragged voice cut us off. “Thinker! Snow Leopard! Priestess! Deadman, you’re all right! I thought the whole squad was gone!” Psycho stood before us in a shredded, bloody litesuit, his face all bruised and cut, his nose smashed and bloody, a crooked smile.

  “Psycho!” I croaked. “We thought you were dead!” I seized him by the shoulders, transfixed with joy. “You look great!”

  “Where the devil have you been, Trooper!” Snow Leopard snarled furiously, his face flushing red, his eyes almost shooting sparks. “I’ve been looking for you for hours!” He glared at Psycho for an instant, then abruptly reached out and embraced him, his eyes closed, his face expressionless. Psycho flashed me a goofy smile over Snow Leopard’s shoulder.

  ###

  “Here’s to Merlin, and here’s to Ironman, and here’s to Dragon.” Warhound proposed the toast, holding up a frosty mug of ale. We had run into him in the corridor. He had been helping Coolhand hobble toward the lounge.

  The lounge was jammed, wild ionic music blasting from the speakers. Warhound appeared untouched by our Coldmark adventure, aside from a few minor bruises on his face. His harsh facial structure and deep eyes always made him appear formidable.

  “Death!” We stood, raised our mugs, drained them dry, slammed them back empty to the table, and everyone laughed. Priestess got her ale all over her blouse. Beta at rest, at rest at last. I refilled my mug.

  “Death!” We rose again, toasting Coolhand, and drained our mugs, and fell back into our chairs, wildly happy. Coolhand had broken a leg in the aircar crash and he had it enclosed in a plastic brace. The bone would knit itself shortly, the lifies said, but he had to take it easy for a week or so. Coolhand’s easy smile was back. He looked like a rich, handsome young layabout without a care in the world. He had the gift of making everyone around him calm down. Psycho related his adventures downside; he had cheated death a score of times.

  “Death! Death! Death!” We cheered, and drank, and shouted. The ale was strong, it made me dizzy, but I didn’t care. Priestess sat right beside me, one hand clutching mine like a vise. Beta had come through again. Alive! It was good to be alive. Over at another table a group of troopies sang the squad song. It was a drinking song, and they were drinking.

  “One squad one road

  Nine tales to tell

  One squad tac mode

  Nine souls to Hell

  One squad one road

  Eye of the hole

  One squad tac mode

  Death is the goal

  One squad one road

  Gateway to Hell

  One squad tac mode

  Sound the death bell

  One squad one road

  Lost world, lost war

  One squad tac mode

  Last call Death Corps.”

  It was a depressing song, but it was pure Legion. Somebody started singing the chorus.

  “Deadman, Deadman

  Hold me tight

  Deadman, Deadman

  Might is right

  Deadman, Deadman

  Won’t you say

  Deadman, Deadman

  Who dies today?”

  I took another drink of ale. I had a headache. What a crazy way to make a living, I thought.

  “One squad one road

  Nine tracks on screen

  One squad tac mode

  Eight tracks on screen

  One squad one road

  Eight tracks on screen

  One squad tac mode

  Seven tracks on screen…”

  It went on like that. We were insane, I decided. Completely insane. Nobody in his right mind would join the Legion. Nobody in his right mind would stay in. So we were crazy. Crazy. It struck me as terribly funny. I started laughing, and could not stop.

  What a day!

  Chapter 20: Motes of Dust

  As we filed into the wardroom of the Spawn, Cubes awaited us on the stage, a solitary figure, his hands clasped behind his back. He wore his blacks. He appeared to be gazing past us, somewhere out in space, somewhere out in time. The others sat behind him on the stage, talking quietly, all the Second’s CAT commanders.<
br />
  I wondered what Cubes thought, as I found a seat. Cold waves from the far past, washing over dead sands. Lost worlds, lost races, lost wars. The Black March, opening up the Cosmos. The Omni’s, suddenly there. Black swarms, exiting star drive, alien ships filling evil skies.

  Most civilizations never learned from the past. Doomed to repeat history, they don’t survive. The Legion doesn’t have that problem. We are immortals. We carry our history with us. We try not to make the same mistake twice. Everyone on that stage had lived through the Race Wars and some had seen the Yellow Wars. Even though I did not know what Cubes thought, I knew I would accept his orders, without question. I certainly wouldn’t have any better ideas. But whatever they announced would be bad news, I knew that much. More dead immortals, we could count on it. I felt powerless, powerless to object, powerless to even complain. We were in the grip of history, I knew, in the hands of the Gods.

  “At ease, troopers.” The wardroom overflowed. The aisles were full of standees and the whole ship listened over the SA system. Cubes still stood, hands behind his back. He did not have to raise his voice. The mikes picked it up and magnified it, a steely whisper. We settled down. Beta sat together, but only six of us remained. Merlin and Dragon were still in the body shop, and Ironman was back in Atom. It did not seem right.

  “Attention the ship,” Cubes began. “We have called this meeting to brief all hands on the current sit.” He paused and looked out past us, over our heads and into some unknown space. Then he took a breath, and resumed.

  “We have just taken some casualties…too many. We’ve had wounded and dead. The full stats will be out shortly. Some of our closest comrades are gone. We grieve for them. They all died in the best traditions of the Legion, fighting for the future. They did not die in vain. Nobody here dies in vain! Nobody!”

  Cubes paused for an instant, regained his composure, and continued, calmly. “We accomplished all our missions. Valkyrie of CAT 24 is back with us, and her captors are dead. My personal congratulations to everyone who participated in that op, the 24th and the 21st and everyone who supported them. That is exactly what the Legion means by ‘instant reaction’. The Legion thanks you. ConFree thanks you. Your descendants thank you.

  “The System Ship Preference is now space junk. The monastery no longer exists. We dropped an antimat on it, once we were sure all our people were out. And the whole inhabited galaxy is going to learn about that.”

  I wondered about the philosophy behind our actions. It sounded like a good incentive not to take any Legion prisoners. Perhaps it was just as well.

  “That was the first mission. The second mission was unitium. Well, we’ve done that, too. With the help of some outside assistance…which we still can’t talk about…and with some brilliant and daring work from our own Gravelight, we now have the explanation for the unitium mine on Andrion 2. The mission which Gravelight led in conjunction with the recovery of Valkyrie was absolutely vital to our understanding of the purpose of the mine. The objective was to recover a Mocain officer who had knowledge of the mine. This mission was also conceived and executed on an instant reaction basis under the leadership of Lowdrop. Although we failed to recover the officer, Gravelight got close enough to the target to obtain the information we needed.

  “The information we got from our secret source-and other data we got from a Systie informant-revealed a major covert starport hidden under a lava lake beside an active volcano on Andrion 3. It revealed that the Systies had been exploiting the unitium mines on Andrion 2 for close to a hundred stellar years, and carrying the product to the starport on Andrion 3. The starport in question proved to be far in advance of Legion technology. It was a major, long-term, covert installation, constructed in a star system in ConFree vac, in direct violation of treaty.

  “At that point, we were very concerned about the apparent Systie technical superiority which enabled them to build the advanced starport on Andrion 3. And we did not understand why they needed two starports, one on Andrion 2 and one on Andrion 3. We also had no explanation for the use to which the unitium was being put. It took Gravelight to answer that. She became aware of the Systie officer-the Mocain-during the negotiations, and she was able to locate her when we raided the monastery to recover Valkyrie.”

  Cubes had not moved. It seemed he was speaking to himself, lost to us all. “You may have wondered why we got such a hot reception at the monastery. The Spawn learned why, from Systie commo picked up during the engagement. Valkyrie and the Systie officer, Millina, were hiding out from us in the monastery. The Systie troopers had two missions, both equally important. Kill Valkyrie, and recover or kill the Mocain officer in whom Gravelight was interested. Recover or kill her. Either was acceptable to the System. It made us wonder what it was that made Valkyrie such a hot property. And we wondered what was in the Mocain’s mind that we were not supposed to find out. Well, it turns out that Valkyrie had overheard some conversations which didn’t make sense to us until Gravelight told us what was in the Mocain’s mind. Then it all came together.”

  The Second slipped a datapak from a pocket and placed it on his lectern. “I’ve read Gravelight’s report. I’d like to give you a few quotes. Our psychers have a way of crystallizing issues in understandable, if somewhat emotional, terms. I quote: ‘It’s too late for us, too late for us all. I can tell you we’re all bound for perdition, we’re all falling together, psychers and deadheads, Legion and Systies, Outers and Inners. I’ve seen her mind, Deadhead! Say your prayers! We’re falling, like motes of dust, into a star. An endless line of starships, orbiting a world of fire. And a lake of lava, opening to draw them in…Death is all around them, an evil presence. Millina prays to God in the dark. She is afraid she will die of fear.

  “ ‘They deal with Satan. A black ship, blotting out cold stars. Satan’s skin is black leather, an evil scratching and slithering in the dark. He radiates power and hate. His will cuts like a knife. You cannot resist. His power is total. He can stop your heart, He can stop your star. A generation of slaves, doomed, disappearing into the dark. Cowards, selling out humanity for little slices of life.

  “ ‘Star carriers full of unitium for the ovens of Satan. Food for his metal mouth, tribute to stay his awful hand. Messages for Satan, from the System, delivered in the dark.’ Millina is giddy with relief, and later she is convulsed with guilt. She sees a galaxy of peaceful worlds, glowing in space. ‘Then something stirs, out in the space between the stars. A black cloak approaches, irresistible, falling silently over star after star. Blotting them out. Forever. A starry sky full of black ships, alien ships, hovering like ghouls. No…no. It’s not just one. It’s a migration, it’s a fleet, it’s the whole race…I don’t know.’ Millina doesn’t know. She only knows there are many, many of them, and it is impossible to resist, and the horde has paused, briefly, because the System is giving them something they want.

  “We are fortunate,” Cubes continued quietly, “to be able to participate in events which will be remembered by our descendants. What Gravelight found was Omnis, on Andrion 3.”

  Gasps and curses filled the air. Cubes paused and waited for the commotion to die down. “The starport on Andrion 3 was not constructed by the System, but by the O’s. The unitium was being mined by the System on Andrion 2, transported by Systie ships to the Omni starport on Andrion 3, and then transferred to the alien ships. Command believes the O’s use the unitium in the containment systems of their antimat drives. It appears to be vital to their efforts. And the exosegs were not placed on Andrion 2 by the System, but by the O’s. You see, the O’s are meat-eaters. They’ve acquired a taste for human flesh and use the captured Taka as food.”

  He paused again, but this time absolute silence filled the room. “With their starport on Andrion 3, they needed a nearby source of food. They introduced the exosegs to Andrion 2 to harvest the Taka for them, and bring the victims to the Systies-programming the exosegs was no problem for powerful psychers like the O’s. The System then transported th
e Taka to Andrion 3 for consumption by their partners, the O’s. In addition, the exosegs ensured that the natives kept their distance from the unitium mines and never learned about the presence of the Systies. I’m sure it made perfect sense to the O’s. And it worked fine, until we showed up.”

  The revelation stunned us all. I felt sick to my stomach. We all knew what it meant. The Omnis were an alien scourge, totally evil, totally merciless, responsible for the annihilation of billions of humans. We felt only hatred for them. War with the O’s was total war, war to the death, war without mercy, war without conscience, remorse or pity. Some ignorant Inner once said that if the Omnis did not exist the Legion would have had to invent them. But the Omnis did exist, and our fathers had fought them, and died by the billions, and for any Soldier of the Legion they were the ultimate mission.

  “It tells us exactly what the System is,” Cubes said, quietly. “It’s been quiet in the Outers for many years, ever since the end of the Race Wars. And now we know why. The System has been providing the O’s, all these years, with something they want-unitium-in return for a temporary peace, a cessation of hostilities against System worlds. There aren’t really any words to describe this kind of treason. Species autogenocide…perhaps we could call it that. Or generational genocide…making your children die for your sins. Perhaps that’s what the System will be charged with, when accounts are settled. And I can assure you accounts will be settled, for this one. This is the most important secret the Legion has ever uncovered, and it is the System’s greatest crime against humanity. Against life itself.

  “It appears, from what we’ve learned, that the O’s are now more powerful than they were before.” For the first time he turned, and glanced over at the other officers sitting on the stage. “They were bad enough before. Bad enough.”

  He turned back to face us. “We are currently on our way to Andrion 3. We will be joined there by Atom’s entire strike force. The 12th Colonial Expeditionary Regiment is no longer an expeditionary force. We are now a recon element. The entire 22nd Legion is on vac run red at this moment. ConFree is resisting us on this, but we have no time to quibble with them. All of Fleetcom is on antimat drive, bound for the Andrion System. But it’s doubtful we’ll ever see them.”

 

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