March of the Legion

by Marshall S. Thomas

  "Keep awake, Sweety," I cautioned my Persist.

  "Sit is fine, Thinker. Humans approaching on the road—unarmed."

  Thick black smoke swirling past me. I saw them on the tacmap. I set my E to xmax.

  "Refugees, Badboy. Let them pass."

  "Everyone in position, sir."

  "Tenners. Keep moving."

  "Badboy, Big Kid. We've got you on scope."

  "Badboy, Badass. You let me know when you need me." Badass was Redhawk, Beta Ten, in the aircar.

  "Keep on the move, Badass, and keep low."

  "Tenners."

  The refugees appeared out of the smoke, all on foot, hurrying along the road toward us. They saw Snow Leopard first, and scattered off the road into the fields, screaming. Children ran into tall grass. An old lady fell, somebody stopped to help her up. A toddler, lost and crying.

  "They're humans!" A shout on the wind.

  "Soldiers! It's the DefCorps!" The refugees thought we were Systies. We continued marching along the road. I could see the O on-screen. Flashes lit the sky ahead. It was like lightning, but I knew it was the O.

  As the word was passed, the refugees straggled back to the road, and we could see the horror in their eyes as we passed them by.

  "Aircars! Does it have aircars?"

  "Groundcars! We need transportation!"

  "Are there more soldiers coming?"

  "The V's are right up ahead, they've got Fernveldt City—the Police stayed to fight them. Right up the road!" A madman, spraying spittle.

  "Kill them! Kill them all!" A young man, in tears.

  "Our daughter! Can we find our daughter? We've lost our little girl!" A young mother wandering in a dream, hand outstretched.

  "Is the port still open?"

  "Is it true that Century City is being held?"

  "It should have let us have weapons! Cowards! Cowards! We die, for its cowardice! We spit on the System!" Another young male, convulsed, spitting his hatred at us.

  Stalking down the road, we ignored them: holy pilgrims bound for death, clad in the armor of our God, carrying his terrible swift sword, fire from the core of a star. And death to all our foes! That's what I was thinking, hot and cold and terrified, as we got closer and closer to the O.

  And I knew the refugees were wrong—there was only one O in Fernveldt City.

  Burning buildings, roaring with flames. Corpses, blown to bits, body parts scattered all over the road. An explosion up ahead. A dull boom, a sharp shock wave, debris in the air.

  "See him? See him? That's him!"

  "Destructive little critter, isn't he?"

  "All right, Badboy. We've got him zeroed," Snow Leopard said. "Two, move your element left. Gamma, move right. I've got the center. Nobody fire until I give the word."

  The city of Fernveldt was right up ahead, and the road led straight to it. I was with Beta One's element. When we were through, the O was going to be in the center of a u-shaped cordon of Legionnaires, and we planned to keep him very busy.

  Lightning flashed ahead. The crack of doom snapped all around us. We could see the city—Fernveldt, a suburb of Century City. Burning, wreathed in clouds of fiery ash.

  "Right, first volley. Five, hit him." Snow Leopard was going to say hello.

  I went to one knee, my E up and ready. It was all green, all around me, in the darksight. Hopeless refugees, a man with a baby, two girls, running frantically into the dark dawn of the System's end, veering away from me.

  Flashes to the left. Tacstars crackled sharp and eerie, whistling downrange to the O. White-hot micronukes burst ahead of us, three, five, seven—a tremendous shock wave and a horrendous ripping noise hit us. Psycho put seven tacstars right on the creature's head. A huge, luminous, rolling mushroom cloud writhed up into the dark skies. Bolts of lightning snapped wildly all around the clouds. Introductions had now been made. We knew the damned tacstars couldn't hurt the O, but we hoped it would give him something to think about—and maybe just a little concern.

  "Six, psybloc." Snow Leopard was calm and his voice was clear.

  Warhound was off to my right, out of sight. I craned my neck to see it. There was a faint flicker, a sudden flash and then a sparkling comet shot high into the sky, lost in the clouds.

  "Bloc away."

  "Badboy—forward."

  Forward, right. I got up and continued the advance. Then the skies lit up. Fireworks, a bright, white-hot starburst, high above. Then another, phospho green. Then another, glittery red. And another, sparkly gold, until the sky was a glittering tracery of hissing streaks. And then each streak exploded at the tip, hundreds more flashing explosions high overhead, lighting up the world, and the fireworks fell like hot, slow rain. A great rattling, moaning roar filled the skies. This was our psybloc, falling slowly from the sky. Atom had assured us it would interfere with the O's psych projections, and protect us from its psypower. Otherwise, we were dead. All our fancy weapons were useless without the will to use them.

  "Good—good! Now we attack, squad leader! Now we attack!" The Mocain soldier was a fighter, that was certain.

  The three of them were just to my left, advancing cautiously. They had been told to keep me in sight. I wondered if the Systie dip recognized me as the one who had nearly executed him back on Andrion 3. He had been silent so far.

  "Tacstar!" Sweety's warning and the explosion came almost simultaneously—a pulsating white sun burst to life just to my right and the shock wave bounced me off the ground. The sun rose into the sky, crackling and hissing, shooting off glowing white streamers.

  "Tacstar! Tacstar!"

  Two more evil, white-hot flowers just behind me. Two more shock waves, banging off my armor.

  "That was the O."

  "Looks like Warhound upset him."

  "Six, One, are you tenners?"

  Three nuclear blossoms, radiating heat and light, glittering in the sky. Psycho's micronukes still hovered up ahead, and Warhound's fireworks still fell, lovely multi-colored sparklers. It was truly beautiful.

  "Enemy probes!" A fine tracery on my tacmap, lower left plate. Six, seven, eight, damn! Coming right at us, from the O.

  "Auto xmax! Tacstars! Shoot 'em down fast! These are the guys we did before. Five, let 'er rip!" One was eager and excited.

  They came in fast and low, just like before, splitting up, seeking out individual targets. Psycho's chainlink spat tacstars, autofire. The vibes crawled on my skin. My heart was in a vice. It felt good. It was like having a Legion fighter on call, bringing in the death from the skies.

  I raised my E to my shoulder and found a probe and fired, auto xmax, and Psycho's tacstars filled the skies, nuclear airbursts, poison toadstools of power. Shock waves pounded at my armor. My E shrieked, everyone suddenly firing, an auto xmax morning, death whistling all around us.

  The probes ran into a solid wall of fire. They exploded all around me, sharp flashes and glittering tracers as they blew apart. I kept my E on auto, following the nearest probes on my faceplate.

  "Four down—more! Three, fire to the right!"

  "Got him! Got him!"

  "He's firing more!"

  "Coming around—Valkyrie, get that one!" It was Boudicca's strident voice. "Watch it! Lasers!"

  "Scrapper, to your rear!"

  "Tenners, got him!" There were two more behind us, coming around in Gamma's sector, firing lasers, snapping past us, hissing into the dirt.

  "Easy…easy…fire!" Scrapper was talking to herself. The two probes winked off my faceplate. "They're done for!" Scrapper sounded elated.

  A sparkling flare shot up into the sky and exploded, shocking blue, stunningly beautiful. Then crimson and golden and phospho white and silver, filling the skies. Warhound was still with us, and our psybloc was going strong.

  Flickering green lightning up ahead—tremendous explosions shook the earth, very close, two rolling white-green phospho fireballs.

  "What's that?"

  "That's the O."

  "Undefined power s
ource, laser guidance, biotic field, human range, extremely dangerous!"

  "Damn! That's new!"

  "Psycho, blow those green bastards apart as soon as they appear—tacstars!"

  "Tenners." Psycho's chainlink shrieked, and the tacstars flashed and ripped over to the front, and a new field of white-hot nukes appeared, glowing, to mark our progress.

  Psycho poured it on and the horizon erupted, flaming nuclear skies, and the green fireballs vanished immediately, swallowed up in the apocalypse.

  "Advance." Snow Leopard, as cold as ice.

  The O was still on scope. Then the world exploded, drilling me right into the ground, a horrible grinding roar in my ears, a white-hot sun dazzling my eyes, a massive shock wave—I struggled to raise my head. My faceplate was white-hot. The sky burnt phospho green.

  "Five!" Tacstars burst to life, a nuclear sky, right over my head. The O had hit us, direct hit, airburst, and Psycho was exploding tacstars right above us to disperse the biotic field. My body burned, the skin crawling, contracting, blood bursting from my nose, eyes going dim, my guts twisting inside me. Biotics—deto! We were dead!

  "Advance! Get up, Badboy! Fire all weapons! Let's get that O!"

  "We won't go on! It's crazy!" the Systie dip shouted. "We can't help it! This is wrong! It's wrong! They're intelligent! It should…" Someone screamed. Lasers snapped all around me. A blinding green fireball erupted in the sky to my right. The O was playing with us. Psycho's chainlink came to life again, and white-hot tacstars exploded within the fireball, blowing it apart. I don't think anyone was listening to the dip.

  The skeletal frames of burning buildings drifted in and out of the smoke. We were getting closer to the O. I could see. I could move. Blood was dripping down my chin. I advanced. The Systie soldier and the Mocain female were still with me, just to my left. The dip had disappeared.

  "Gamma, are you still there?"

  "Tenners, we're moving up."

  "Beta Two, report."

  "We're tenners—all here!"

  "Rising energy levels from target—high mag levels! High rad levels!"

  Lasers, brilliant red laser light, flashing, flickering over our heads, touching down, ten, twenty, thirty, countless glittering streams, snapping and crackling, darting all around us, and any one could end a life with a gentle touch.

  A blood-curdling scream.

  "Who's hit?"

  "Heads down!"

  "Fire! Fire! Let 'er rip!" I raised my E and fired auto xmax, and off to my right there was more firing, sheets of lovely xmax. To my left I saw Snow Leopard, alternating laser and auto xmax, and further left Psycho's chainlink snarled, and the earth cringed and shook, and all our fire was centered right on that one O. The O was still firing lasers, ruby red lasers, snapping all around me. I was in the ruins of a great factory building full of burning groundcars. Splintered glass ground under my boots and smoking cables and shot-up robot arms dangled loosely from the ceiling. I found a good spot by a fiercely burning groundcar and switched my E to canister. We were getting close, and it was time to try out our new toys.

  "Rising mag levels!"

  "Six, do it again!"

  "Enemy launching aerial device!" There was a soundless flash up ahead, and something rocketed up into the glittering sky. Off to my right Warhound launched another psybloc, a sparkling trail shooting skywards. Warhound's fireworks and the O's device exploded at about the same time. Then a solid sheet of light from Psycho's skysweep lanced up to erupt, six, seven, eight, ten tacstars, golden flowers of the Legion, as scary and beautiful as angels of the Lord, and the sky was a great bowl of glowing light, flickering and flashing and throbbing with every color of the spectrum.

  "Launch deceptors." Snow Leopard was as calm as if it was all a training exercise.

  I was terrified, huddled in my armor, icy sweat trickling over my skin. I switched to deceptors and fired on auto. The sky was a shrieking, frantic beast, full of raging metal, and the tacmap was all trash.

  "Tenners, what's the O done?"

  "Unidentified aerial devices approaching! Attention! Enemy launching energy spheres! Unidentified devices approaching from high altitude, energy spheres approaching from low altitude!"

  Damn! I could see it on the scope now, spidery lines on the tacmap, lazily approaching us. This was the weapon that had decimated Gamma on Andrion 3. But there was something else as well, coming at us from above!

  "Gamma Seven, Beta Four, Five, you all in position?"

  "Seven ready!"

  "Four ready!"

  "Five all set!"

  One wanted to go after the O, but something was whirling overhead, a strange buzzing noise that turned my flesh cold.

  "Genetic energy weapon, low-mass, twenty-one separate strands approaching," Sweety announced. "Recommend auto stunstars and v-max to disperse these energy masses."

  My blood ran cold. This was something new, too. I stepped out from behind the flaming wreckage and brought my E up to my shoulder, switching to v-max.

  "V-max, gang! Five, Gamma Seven, stunstars!" I could see them now, sparkling aerial strands of biotic death, falling gently down from the sky, slowly snapping and whirling in the breeze, floating towards us, living death, coiling and uncoiling like snakes, tails snapping, programmed to wrap around the appropriate genetic material and merge with it. We were the appropriate genetic material. I knew it could penetrate our A-suits and the result was an awful, hideous death. I fired at the nearest strand, auto v-max. It was taking hits from Merlin and Warhound to my right. It writhed blindly in the air, whirling wildly. The v-max appeared to be working—the strand was being blown apart, a shower of sparkling fragments.

  Four stunstars burst over our heads almost simultaneously, a tremendous ragged quadruple boom, scattering the strands all over the sky. I fell to my knees.

  It felt as if I had been hit by a speeding aircar.

  "The spheres! Get the spheres, then do the O!"

  "Who's the casualty?" Priestess asked.

  "Look out! The snakes!" A glittering sheet of raw flame swept over my head.

  "Use flame on the snakes! They burn like gas!" Dragon shouted. Streams of fire shot up from his position, and the genetic snakes burst into flames.

  Thank God for Dragon!

  "Energy spheres approaching! Six spheres! Recommend immediate counterfire!"

  Lasers snapped past me, missing by mils. The spheres approached. Closer and closer. I struggled to my feet.

  "Counter those spheres—now!" Snow Leopard was still on top of it. We'd have to put off our hit on the O until we dealt with the spheres. A shriek of raw terror, right in my ears.

  "Use flame! Burn it!" One of the strands had touched down, and had somebody in its grasp. Things were happening so fast I could not even look at the sit.

  "Sphere approaching, Thinker!" Scut!

  "Spheres!" Snow Leopard commanded. "Biodee, canisters, chainlink, plasma, now!" It was coming right at me, glowing like a comet. I switched over to biodee and fired, shaking with terror.

  Chapter 11:

  Advice for the Dead

  The sphere came right at me, glowing like a sun, drawn by my own genetics, and I knew nothing at all could stop it from merging with the nearest mass of human flesh and consuming it utterly, burning fiercely from outside until all life was gone. This was what had happened to Gamma on Andrion 3. This was a high-tech, self-guided energy weapon, unlike the snakes, and neither v-max nor stunstars nor flame were going to turn aside this relentless, mindless sphere from its murderous mission.

  I was almost frozen with terror, but I fired biodee right into the glowing mass just before it hit me and it exploded right in my face, a brilliant white-hot glare and a crackling bang, lighting up the battlefield for one stark instant.

  "Biodee works!" I croaked, staggering in relief. I blessed the warped genius who had come up with the device, and all the nameless toilers in the Legion death factory who had integrated it into our E's. It eats people, fine, we feed it peo
ple. Genetic bullets, biotic life and death, human genes to set off the spheres, and superflash moeboid reproduction of the genetic material, driving the sphere to consume to its own destruction.

  "Biodee!" Snow Leopard commanded, "Biodee!" Another white flash behind me. A nightmare landscape of twisted, skeletal black buildings was wreathed in dark smoke, fires burning all around us, nuclear clouds glowing overhead, our psybloc flickering in the sky, a lovely, multicolored rain slowly floating down through the dark.

  "Snake approaching, Thinker!" Above me, twitching in the air, seeking me out.

  "I want canisters on the O—now!" Snow Leopard commanded. It was time to tackle the O. I fired flame up to the snake and it writhed, the fire running all along its airy body, burning brightly.

  "Help us!" It was the Systie soldier. A sphere, darting at him. A blood-curdling scream.

  "Fire biodee!" The sphere exploded, another white-hot crack.

  "Canisters!" We were closing in on the O—he was dancing on my tacmap—right up ahead! The building just to my right exploded, showering me with debris. Laser snapped and popped past me from the O's position. Boudicca and Valkyrie passed me like shadows, heading for the O. What were they doing up here?

  "Seven! Plasma! Now!" Snow Leopard ordered in a cold dead voice. Terrific ripping explosions and a blinding tracery of glowing streaks—several troopers opened up on canister. I raised my E and trotted forward to meet the O. I switched to canister and fired on auto. The recoil almost knocked me down and the flash dazzled my eyes. A glimpse of an A-suit to my right; I recognized the weapon, a biobloc fieldfaxer. It was Merlin, moving up, all set to cook his O. But we had to get through the mags first. The canisters were designed to do that. They fired cenite slivers, hundreds of miniature darts of cold death, crafted to slide between the madly whirling molecules of the O's mag shields, and tear open a hole for us to explode.

  Another scream, a flash of lasers, a sharp explosion behind us as a tacstar cloud rose to the sky, a sparkling trail rocketing up. Warhound gave us one last psybloc, and the earth shook again to Psycho's chainlink, spitting autofire, then rattling to a stop.

  "Get it off! Get it off!"