Legion's Riddle Trilogy Box Set

by K R Sanford

  Ryan nodded and pushed the com-link for Hector—silence. Ryan pushed another link. “Major, are you there?”

  “Go ahead,” said Walters. “What do you need?”

  “Find Captain Blackstone and Chris Thacher for me will you old sport. And see what is going on with the wormhole”

  Walters fired back, “They’re in Hector’s quarters, Sir. What me to break their security?”

  “Yes,” tell him, guests are coming and to get over to the Royal Neptune immediately and bring Chris with him.”

  “Very good, Sir; consider it done. As far as the wormhole I'll get back to you on that  Out.”

  “He’s wearing the oak leaves well,” said Marco.

  “I never did have any problem with his performance. His mishap was the Emperor’s doing,” said Stiller.

  “His training that he will never be good enough is odd. He will never be ready, and he has to preform one hundred percent all the same. It’s not his special forces training. There is something else”

  “All the time?” asked Stiller. "It's obsessive."

  “No, he was ordered by the Emperor to blow off some steam,” said Marco. “And yet, I’ve noticed the Emperor is the first one to throw perfection straight out the window. Especially, when he’s in public, as if, he’s giving everyone permission to do the same.”

  “Curious how many dinner tables have had that discussion,” said Stiller.

  “Don’t know, a lot. We’re having one,” quipped Ryan.

  “So we are,” said Marco.

  “Fifty thousand ships in hyper-space?” said Tomas.

  “Yes, and even more dramatic, they are heading this way,” replied Marco. “An armada such as this will need fuel. The ships can organize by maintaining orbit around the stars below the starbase.”

  “How peculiar;” said Tomas.

  Marco curious replied, “What’s that?”

  “This place, this Temple is here for a massive rescue mission like what we’re into right now,” answered Tomas.

  “It was an intuitive answer,” said Marco thinking out loud. He continued half answering Tomas, half answering the Temple. “He set the ships in orbit.

  I don’t know how many times in the past few days I have said it.”

  “What’s that?” said Tomas.

  “This is the Emperor’s doing,” replied Marco pulling away from the Temple induced trance.

  “I have no doubt and I don’t care. I’m good with this,” said Tomas.

  “Same here,” replied Marco. “It’s almost as if we show up and play. Speaking of showing up; look who walked in.”

  Ryan stood from his table. “Balrug, Jimmy we have a table for you all ready and waiting.”

  “How peculiar,” Jimmy’s response was a confirmation for what they had been experiencing all day.

  The door of the dining hall opened once again. Hector and Chris stepped around to the Royal Neptune’s new command center.

  “We follow our feet and here we find you,” said Hector.

  “It must be that kind of day,” said Ryan. “Everyone please take a seat. We have the privilege of the Imperial Maidens as our hostesses today.

  At Ryan’s introduction turned the ladies in white into a ballet in motion. The quiet ritual intended to show how to heal the emotional needs of the refugees. The ladies prepared the table with every movement accounted for. In seconds the newcomers had the sustenance to refresh themselves.

  “The gift is in diligence,” said Jimmy.

  Balrug snickered. He looked about the table fathoming the befuddled faces. His brain went into shock he could not contain. He broke out in hysterical laughter.

  “I am sorry,” he said through fits of giggling. “You had to be there.”

  “I am here,” said Marco. "We’re all here.” said Marco. “What the hell’s wrong with you? No, don’t tell me, it’s the energy field. We’re all feeling it,” he continued. “So there it is. Now, what do we have?”

  “I’m not afraid to admit it,” said Chris. “I’m afraid I'm cut off from the Emperor. I'm abandoned and betrayed. I am put upon by the refugees coming with unknown expectations. This migration is desperate. They are coming on us any minute. Anything can and will happen. That’s how these things work. This is a disaster. It is going to be a fight for our lives and not for the refugees. Environmental Services has been through this many times. We know how things break down, only not to this scale. This is more than a disaster. It is the mother of tragedies.”

  Chris finished what she needed to say then sat silent. No one spoke. They felt her confidence and her determination to face facts.

  Marco too, took in a sober moment of what they were facing. He reflected then at length he spoke.

  “What is the essence of the tragedy that is taking place here . . . anyone? Then I will tell you. It is the fear we will not take the correct action to resolve the demands of an overwhelming force. We know to divide their forces into manageable sizes and handle the tasks with a business as usual model. Only that alone is not the issue here. Let me tell you a story, it is a story about myself. Will you let me do that?

  This is where I grew up in my formative years. It was a rural community in the desert, a chaparral in southern California. This was in the County of San Diego. San Diego County was home to several military bases. The kids were a tough breed; military kids and rancher’s kids and Indians from the reservations. We expected to fight each other on our way home from school. We would fight at the drop of a hat. It wasn’t that they disliked each other; it was our way of life. We learned from each other. And we learned to protect ourselves.

  Still, when it came down to it, when it came to the fight, I got scared. You never knew when the guy you were fighting would do something out of the same fear you had. A big stick would appear or someone would pull a knife or a gun and that was that.

  You had to prepare. But no matter how well you prepared it was never good enough. And, this was not a game. It was all about war and how to survive. The times I couldn’t escape, the times I didn’t have a place to hide, I would shift something in myself. I would shift something for an unknown presence. This was a process as I discovered like a humble recognition of a power.

  I had discovered an ally, an entity or an alien. I didn’t know for sure. All I knew was it wanted to fight my battle. And in exchange I would give it a chance to live and to fight. I would let the ally fight the battle. It was as if the ferocity of this creature could destroy anything in my imagination. This was the battle field. It was easy for me to allow this power to take over command. Because I recognized I could not fight some battles by myself.”

  “But you are a strong guy, Admiral,” said Jimmy. “You have a lot of training.”

  “That’s true,” said Marco in surprise. “This is a paradox. Under my own power and skill I break things. I injure myself. I shatter a hand, twist my neck out of place, dislocate a finger, slip and sprain an ankle. Once I broke my damn fool ankle. I’m learning, Jimmy.

  I’m learning to let the Infinite power do the battle. I have to show up and expect. I do not walk alone. I have to be as ready as I can with the attitude that I will bow to this terror that will step in and take my place in the fight. It’s a paradox because it requires trust. I don’t know this entity. It is far beyond my mortal understanding. For all I know this creature will demand a price I cannot pay. Then, I would look back like the fool and say; what have I done.”

  Hector leaned forward. “I look at Legion and say, he has flaws too. And yet, we accept him as Emperor of the Galaxy. Is this a paradox?”

  “Yeah,” said Marco. “What I am trying to suggest is the attitude that transcends ordinary human abilities. It wants to give extra ordinary powers to carbon based beings to make evolution happen. Let me try and explain.

  It’s like these entities get-off by participating in our struggles. They are like guardians that deliver the death nail in the battle. And yet, that’s not quite right either. This entity will d
o things we wouldn’t do.

  I’m seeing, in my mind’s eye, these entities transform themselves into a constricting snake. They wrap themselves around the enemy. They wrap coil after coil. They hold the enemy down closing its grip tighter and tighter until the thing is dead. This entity would battle through water, dirt, filth, fire and certain death with only one thing in mind. Kill the enemy with total destruction.

  I cannot say my own battles are as determined in that cold calculating way. Still, I am going to tell you one last thing then I am going to shut up.

  I am amazed how easy is to put down an assailant. I go into a fight frightened. Such fear is almost paralyzing but I go anyway. I position myself for an advantage then I strike. I unleash crippling blows with the determination to kill. And, I don’t let up until the assailant is lying dead on the ground. This kind of attack is over quick. It is a street fight. It is war.

  We are not a street gang here. We represent the sovereign subjects of the Milky Way Galaxy. This includes all other subjects under our protection. We will evolve and conquer because we are willing to suffer with a great and powerful ally.

  Call the Amedans, then let us get out there and find out if these life-forms are friend or foe. Call Walters and have him meet us at the front gate of the bridge. And, General Stiller, if you please, clear your forces from the flight deck. I am advised by Environmental Services. We need volunteers with medical training to welcome our new guests.”

  “It would be my honor, Admiral,” said General Stiller.

  “And General, maintain red alert,” said Marco.

  “I understand. Consider it done.” Marty gave a crisp salute.

  The Neptune Maidens escorted the command group through the gold double doors. They made little conversation as they closed the doors. The group boarded their shuttles, each going their way.

  Major Walters was standing at the entrance to the decompression chamber. Lieutenant Chew was logging in the event at a console setting on a small shelf mounted on the wall next to the door. A green light was on. She walked over to Walters and shrugged, “We’re okay here.”

  “Then we wait,” he replied. “When the sequence cycles the door will open and they can come out.”

  “And if there is a problem?”

  “The system will send a response order and when the right team shows up we point to the door and keep monitoring. No matter what, we keep the system active.”

  “There’s the blue light, said Chew.

  “We have life-forms,” said Walters. “When the blue light turns to green, they have acclimated. Then, when they are ready a third light will turn on, then, when we’re ready, we open the door.” Walters had a bored expression on his face. “This could take a while. It depends on their physiology.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Chew. “If they are like a shark and can swim to depths of two thousand meters then no problem.”

  “How many feet is that?”

  “That’s seven thousand feet, Major.”

  “That’s almost a mile and a half deep. We would get crushed,” said Walters.

  “You would get crushed,” said Chew. “I would be in a diving suit.”

  “Well, I would be in a submarine, Lieutenant. I don’t plan on getting eaten by no shark.”

  “That sounds reasonable Major.”

  “It is reasonable. It is reasonable, Lieutenant.”

  “Okay, boss. Mind the pressure, now.”

  Walters took a step back. He opened both hands then closed them to a fist. Twice he made the movement saying each time; field force, point charge. He touched his fingertips and thumbs together. “How easy it is,” he said, “to let the power of this starbase get us carried away with our own imagination.”

  Lieutenant Chew spoke, “You said the decompression might take some time. And, if they were a throwback from a vegetable; when the door opens they might pour out like a bowl of wonton soup.”

  Walters’ forehead made creases up to his hairline, “You have a creepy side to you, Lieutenant.”

  Chew looked over Walters shoulder, “Top brass are here, Sir.”

  Walters glanced over and replied, “They want to welcome the guests. There must be a thousand cinemas trained on this event right now.”

  “Sir, all three lights are green.”

  Walters reached for his communicator. He spoke. “Admiral, the visitors have given three green lights.”

  “We’re on our way, Major. If they are ready to come out, let them. Open the door.”

  Walters and Chew stepped to the door. Walters reached out and pulled out the red lever. The door hissed and retracted into the side of the bridge. A rectangular pocked opened in its place. The opening was large enough to fly a small shuttle inside.

  What appeared was a man, a woman and a shiny black cat. The man and woman dressed in a silver hooded robe from head to foot. They were bound about the waist with leather straps that reached to their chest like a girdle of armor. Their feet were clad with woven leather sandals. When they stepped to the edge of the doorway they pulled back their hoods from off their heads.

  They were young like Major Walters and Lieutenant Chew. The woman had pale skin almost porcelain. She had long black hair. The man looked Nordic, like a Viking who hadn’t shaved in days. He wore a rugged weathered face like a seaman or a farmer.

  “Please say something,” he said in English. Our translators need to recognize your speech patterns.”

  “Your translator is doing a remarkable job already,” said Walter. “My name is Walters. You have been doing research on our language.”

  “Yes, your servant Legion has supplied us with recordings. We are very grateful for your help. My name is Thule and this is Mariah. And this creature— Thule looked around, “Ah, Sybil there you are. Come say hello.”

  Sybil stepped forward on all fours. She sat next to Thule. Her head was at his waist. Her legs stretched out straight. She was resting on her paws, each measuring eight inches across. She watched every move Walters made. She scanned the runway looking up and down at the great ships. She tilted her head as if listening through to the inside of the starbase. She began to chuff then tilted back her head and roared with a deep bellowing call.

  Thule put his hand on her head; he ordered, “That’s enough, Sybil.” Sybil gave a grunt then posed next to Thule sitting like a black silk statue.

  Thule turned to Walters and Chew, “We will need a place to talk. Your decompression chamber holds a thousand people. A place to accommodate as much will be good.”

  Marco stepped next to Walters. Walters immediately introduced the Admiral. “Admiral this is Thule and Mariah, and the Panther is Sybil.

  Marco bowed, “Thule, Mariah, Cybil, he said. “Let’s make you and your people more comfortable.” Marco extended his hand toward the Royal Neptune. As he did a yellow rectangular box floated across the runway trailing a tube from the great ship.

  “When the conveyor locks into the chamber, have your people step on the conveyor. We will go where you will be more comfortable. I will go with you. Here we go now,” Marco stepped onto the chamber. Walters and Chew followed. Hector and Chris joined the group as well. Balrug and Jimmy followed behind. They found a place next to Sybil and Thule for the ride to the Royal Neptune.

  The conveyor began to move bringing Sybil stood up on all fours. Balrug took a step back, Thule called out. “She’s harmless. We go way back.”

  Mariah raised an eyebrow then turned her head. She looked over at the throng of people. An expression of indigence formed across her faces.

  In less than a minute they were walking into to the polished floor of the giant hanger. Thule marveled at the white walls and the vast rows of space shuttles.

  Tables were set up to process the refugees. The throng was a steady flow of humanoids. The newcomers placed their belongings on the tables. They were short, tall, fat, skinny; different ages different genders. It was like the typical commercial space port with variety of every kind.

  Ryan
leaned into Marco, “This group is no different than any space port in any star system.”

  “Well, you know what they say? Beauty is only skin deep. I’m not bored, you know,” said Ryan eyeballing Thule’s cat.

  “Then what?" said Marco. "Are you looking for beauty or still waiting for little green men with antennas?”

  “I’d settle on a reindeer with antlers,” said Ryan. “Don’t look now but that big cat keeps checking you out.”

  “Humm?” grunted Marco. "Well, how about you go over there and feed it something."

  “Admiral, it seems Sybil has taken a liking to you,” said Thule.

  “Oh, the pussy—

  “You must be single, unattached, you know. She can always tell,” replied Thule.

  “Well, I, I—

  “Admiral, I need to get checked-in and see to my people; committees to approve, things like that. Here, mind Sybil for me, will you?” He said handed Marco the end of the leash.

  Marco held the leash in his hand while staring in the Panther's eyes. He fell under her spell. Sybil’s mysterious eyes opened a multiverse of promises. Marco replied, “No, I can’t. It’s impossible.”

  “Nonsense, Admiral I’ll come for her in a few hours when my people get settled. Besides, who could miss an Admiral with a black panther on the leash?”

  Cybil walked next to Marco and rested her head on his hip. “Ah, well, she seems friendly enough.”

  “Thank you,” said Thule. “You’re the best,” he walked off into the crowd not looking back.

  Marco held up his hands making his plea. “I have no idea what she likes to eat.”

  “I’d say, take her to the cafeteria and have them fix up a sampler plate,” said Ryan.

  “Thule said nothing about feeding her,” replied Marco.

  Ryan shook his head, “You don’t want to make that mistake, not even once.”

  “Yeah okay,” said Marco. “These creatures will get our attention real quick when they’re hungry.”