Cross of the Legion (10 page)

"But I thought they needed human or O hosts to reproduce!" Priestess objected.

"They do. At least at first. But then, it seems, they change. The O's have given us before and after genetic charts of the fungus, from the original infection. It seems neither is completely identical with the current species that's attacking us both."

"They're not identical?"

"They're not from the same ancestor. It looks like this latest fungus is not going to transform itself," Snow Leopard said.

"Are you sure? No smart fungus for us to shoot?" Psycho asked.

"We're really not certain. The O's told us that you can't fight the Mind. Their ancestors tried. No matter how much of it you burn or poison, the rest keeps growing. And it can produce those nasty little people-eating spores, apparently at will. The O's finally abandoned their worlds there, and came looking for someplace a bit more friendly."

"And that's where they met the Legion."

"Over a hundred thousand years later—yeah."

"How about the human settlements out there?"

"Wiped out of history. No further trace. The O's information indicates the White Death planets are probably still out there, rotting in the grip of the Mind. As far as the O's know, the Mind is still alive. Apparently all it wants is to be left alone."

"Sounds kind of pushy, for a plant," Psycho said. "How did it get from world to world?"

"The O's believe humans and O's carried the infection from world to world before they even knew there was a problem. The same thing could be happening with us."

"That's a scary thought."

Snow Leopard switched off the d-screen. "One other thing," he said. "As the O's pulled out of the area they left behind one human planet—a place the O's called Chudit—in the path of the White Death. It was a bit out of the mainstream and had not yet been infected when the O's left. Well, when an O recon team visited the area about ten years later, they reported that the plague had appeared on Chudit, but then…faded away."

"Faded away?"

"Yes—the human population was fine, and the fungus was gone."

"That's incredibly important! What else?"

"Nothing else—regrettably. That's all there is. There is absolutely no further information about what happened. The O's don't even know Chudit's location now. Don't forget, this was over a hundred thousand stellar years ago."

"They don't even know where it is?"

"No. The area of Sagitta in question is full of possible candidates, but the O's can't find it on the charts. They've even lost some of their own former worlds out that way."

"I wonder if they're looking."

"I'll bet they are."

"We've never been out that far?"

"Not yet."

"But we're going—aren't we?"

"What do you think?"

I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair. Priestess's fingers locked around my hand. The Legion would be planning the expedition, even now. I had been in the Legion long enough to know exactly how we reacted to crises. Knowledge, a hundred thousand years old, to counter the White Death. A part of the galaxy so remote it hadn't even been mapped. Faint tracks, in the dust of time. A whisper, from the past. A slim, almost impossible chance we might find something. But if we did…incalculable benefits. Hundreds of millions would live, who would otherwise die. Innocents, calling out to the Legion, even now. I could hear the music of the stars, in my head. My skin was tingling. Challenging the Gods of space and time, for the unborn, for the future—this was what the Legion did. This was what we did.

Chapter 5
Deadman's Dogs

"This is wonderful!" Priestess said, strolling with me along the corridors of
Atom's Road
. "I'd forgotten how luxurious Atom was…so much space! Our own cubes! Our own toilets! This is the way to live!" The
Spawn
was back with momma, and the techs were swarming over her, refurbishing and restocking her for whatever faced her in the future. Her inhabitants had been allowed to sample
Atom's
wonders.

"It beats a cruiser," I said. We were both dressed in our blacks, wandering like tourists through our mother ship. She was an old friend. She had taken us to Andrion 2 on our first Legion action. I sure had a warm spot in my heart for
Atom's Road
, but she brought back some sad memories as well. At every familiar spot I could see the faces of those young troopers who had not made it to the present—Cool Hand, Merlin, Warhound, Ironman—my blood brothers. Their faces were right there on my knuckles, looking out at a world they had never seen.

"This is Ops," Priestess said. The door hissed open to reveal an armored airlock manned by a young female clerk behind an info desk and a young male trooper in a comtop and litesuit, standing to one side with an E strapped to his A-vest.

"We have an appointment with Captain Antara Tarantos-Hanna of Galactic Information," I said to the girl. "Is this the right place?"

"ID's please." She recorded our ID's and the trooper escorted us down a staircase to a second blast-proof fortress, leaving us facing another two gatekeepers behind a narrow counter under a wall of glowing d-screens. A sign on the wall proclaimed:

OUTVAC SECTOR COMMAND
GALACTIC INFORMATION

"Sign these, please." A slender, sensual blonde honey in Legion black slid two documents over to us. I glanced through the text. It basically promised eternal persecution and a horrible, lingering death if we revealed to anyone any of the information that was about to be disclosed to us. I signed confidently. Death didn't scare me any more. Priestess signed with a flourish, smiled at the blonde, and linked an arm with mine—the blonde had been running her eyes over my body. She turned away with a wry look, and an armed Info trooper escorted us through another blast door and along a narrow corridor lined with sealed doors. Near the end of the corridor, he hit one of the larger doors and it slid open and he disappeared as we entered. Tara rose from behind a large conference desk under walls covered with d-screens.

"Wester! Priestess! Come on in! How are you?" She looked terrific, beaming with life, gleaming auburn hair cut short, dark tanned skin, flashing eyes, pearly white teeth, clad in legion black, silver insignia on her collar.

"Hi, Tara! You are definitely looking good!" I said.

"Hello, Tara. It's wonderful to see you!" Priestess had always been just a teensy bit jealous of Tara, but she had eventually accepted the truth about our long-term but depressingly platonic relationship.

"Please—have a seat—relax." We settled down at the conference desk and she took a chair opposite us. "Did you have a good trip?"

"Sure," I said, looking around the cube. "Nice office, Tara. I see you've got your old rank back. Don't you ever get tired of this nonsense? You once told me you wanted a quiet life. You said you were going to get out of the Legion. Whatever happened to that?"

Tara smiled in delight, a flash of white. "Look who's talking! Isn't this the fellow who finally found happiness on Andrion 2?"

"The very same," Priestess said.

"But Tara—what about Willard? You said you were going to raise him up right—and make sure he avoids the Legion. How's he doing?"

"He's doing fine, Wester. And he still claims he's bound for the Legion. How's your boy?"

"He's with his mother. He's fine—they're both fine. I don't get it, Tara. They sentence you to hard labor, then give you your old rank back. It's like working in an insane asylum."

"The Legion works with what it has. They recognize I have certain…talents. Before his forced retirement, Pointman made arrangements for me to continue with Galactic Information. We all owe him, Wester—you, too."

"Yes—I know. Well, what's your latest project? Why have you called Priestess and me here? Let's not postpone the agony. Go ahead and tell us."

"So impatient!" Tara smiled again, dazzling me. "Slow down, Wester. All in good time." She stood up. "So tell me. How do I look?" She walked out from behind the desk and struck a pose, like a model on a catwalk. It was so unlike her I fumbled for words.

"Well…uh…you look great, Tara. A lot better than when we last saw you. I mean—a whole lot better!"

"Yes," Priestess added. "You've gained some weight back. You're truly beautiful. Thinker would say that if I wasn't here."

"Thanks, Priestess. Do you see anything…different?"

I looked Tara over carefully. She was slim and elegant, absolutely lovely. "You cut your hair," I said.

"Besides that."

"Your skin," Priestess said. "Looks like you're using some kind of lotion."

"Women are always more observant than men," Tara said. "Very good. Anything else?" She stood there, smiling at us.

"You're more concerned about your appearance than you used to be," I said. "Come on Tara, what is this?"

She laughed and resumed her seat. "All right. I'll show you. Wester, you're a typical male. You're probably very confident you could beat me in a fist fight, aren't you?"

I looked at her and laughed. "What?"

"You probably think you're physically stronger than me—right, Wester?"

"Right," I said. "All right, I'll play. Yes, Tara, I think I am physically stronger than you."

Tara smiled at Priestess, and put an elbow on the desk.

"I'll arm-wrestle you, Wester. Come on."

I looked over at Priestess. She was completely mystified.

"Come on, Wester. You're not scared, are you? Scared I'll humiliate you in front of your girl?"

"Tara—what are you doing?"

"Chicken! Cluck-cluck-cluck… come on, Wester!"

I put my elbow on the table and we locked hands. Her arm was so slim, so delicate, I was worried about hurting her.

"Look Tara, I don't…"

"Hush, Wester. Now listen, I want you to try your best to win. I promise, I'm stronger than I look. Just pin my arm to the desk and I promise I'll shut down. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I would."

"Priestess, say one, two, three. We go on the count of three. Remember—your best, Wester!"

Priestess began the count. "One…two…three!" Tara smashed my arm to the desk with such violence that I fell out of my chair and bounced off the floor. Priestess shrieked and went after me. I pushed her away, stunned and angry. My arm was aching.

"Very funny!" I snarled, regaining my seat shakily. "You been topping off on mags or what?"

Tara was on her feet, pale and concerned. "Are you all right, Wester?"

"I'm fine! Let's try that one more time!" I placed my aching elbow on the desk again. I hoped the arm was not broken; it sure felt like it was.

"No more, Wester—once is enough!" She remained standing.

"You feel better now?" I asked, somewhat bitterly. She avoided my eyes.

"Just one more thing, Wester, and you'll understand." She opened a drawer in the desk and took out a large, black knife and dropped it noisily onto the desk. It was a standard issue Legion cold knife, a massive, brutally utilitarian black cenite blade, razor sharp, perfectly balanced, and virtually indestructible.

"Pick it up, Wester."

I complied, using my left hand.

"What is it, Wester?"

"It's a Legion cold knife, Mark 1. As you well know."

"Priestess?"

Priestess took it from me, and examined it. "That's what it is, all right."

Tara held out a hand, and Priestess passed the weapon back to her, hilt first. I watched Tara angrily. "What now, Tara," I asked. "Are you going to stab me with that thing?" She's finally gone over the edge, I thought. It's the work—it'd drive anyone nuts. We'll have to call the medics. She'll finally get that long rest, in a padded cell—where we all belong!

"Sharp, isn't it?" She turned the blade over in her hands, looking at it. Little warnings were going off in the back of my mind. Off the edge! I could see Priestess tensing up as well.

"This blade would go right through my body," Tara said dreamily. She was still standing on the other side of the conference desk, now turning the blade toward her chest. I'll leap right over the desk, I decided, and tackle her. I could tell Priestess was going to do the same.

Just as I vaulted over the desk Tara slammed the black knife right into her chest with a little gasp, and disappeared with a shattering bang. I landed right where she had been, clawing at the air. Priestess fell onto me, screaming, thrashing her arms.

"What the hell!" I shouted from the floor, struggling to untangle my limbs from Priestess's. The knife lay on the floor where it had fallen. Tara was gone—totally gone! There was no blood—no body—nothing! Only the echo of that awful bang.

"Where is she?" Priestess shouted. "Tara! Tara!" Priestess held the knife, stricken. "Where did she go?" We were both on our feet, frantic, looking around the office wildly.

A door slid open and Tara stood there, pale and shaken. "I'm sorry!" she stammered. "I'm all right. I'm sorry, gang!"

"Tara!" I ran over to her and seized her, running my hands over her body. She was fine. No wound, not even a rip in her tunic—what the hell! I had seen her plunge that knife right into her chest!

"Are you all right, Tara? Are you hurt?" Priestess patted her down frantically, looking for the wound. Tara stood there compliantly, looking somewhat shocked.

"I'm all right. I'm sorry. I'm such a fool."

"Thank God you're all right!" I embraced her, thankful only for the moment. My heart was still pounding. Priestess held her tightly. When I finally broke away, Tara was blinking away the tears. That wasn't like her at all. I tried to calm down.

"I…I didn't think it would be this way," she stammered.

"We both love you, Tara. We're very pleased you're not hurt. Now…could you please tell us what the hell this is all about?"

"I was being stupid…and arrogant," she said. "I wanted to demonstrate something to you. I thought it would be more effective if I surprised you. I'm sorry."

"Just a frac," I said. "Do you mean—you weren't in any danger, back there?"

"No—not at all." She avoided my eyes.

"So you mean—this was just some kind of…game."

"Not exactly, Wester."

"A game. You were playing with us. People who love you. And we were only worried about you!"

"I'm sorry, Wester."

"You bitch."

"Thinker…" Priestess interrupted.

"You absolute bitch! Well, now you know just how much we care for you! Both of us! Are you happy?"

"Wester—Priestess. Please accept my profound apologies. I can see I was a fool. What I did was wrong. I had no idea it would be so…traumatic. I…I'm sorry."

I did not reply. Priestess still had her arms around Tara. She was trembling.

***

"Please…have some dox," Tara said, popping the tops on our cups. "We've got to calm down. I've got something wonderful to show you. And this time I promise there'll be no surprises!" We were in her personal cube, sitting at a good-sized wall table by a snackmod. It was quite a cube—the largest I'd ever seen on a starship, equipped with d-screens and comgear and starlinks that made the place look more like an office than a bedroom. Priestess and I sipped at the dox, silent, watching her.

"I'll cut it short. That wasn't me back there. It was a holo."

I looked at her without comment.

"Admit it, Wester. You've never seen a holo that good. You never even suspected, right?"

"Not until you disappeared."

"That's what I wanted to show you—our new holos! They can do anything we can. They can do it better! They're undetectable! You couldn't tell the difference, could you, Wester? Priestess noticed the skin—we're working on that. But that didn't give it away, did it, Priestess?"

"No. I had no idea."

"I was in the ES, the whole time," Tara said. "It's scary, Wester! It's just like being there! When I turned that knife on myself, I was almost too scared to do it, it was so realistic—for me, too! When something penetrates the image, it shatters, and the air rushes into the vac. It takes a lot to penetrate the image, Wester! X, or shrapnel, or a battle blade. The holo is very tough! As I demonstrated when we arm-wrestled. There's no way anyone can fight one of these babies—so don't feel bad. You couldn't possibly have won. We took vac technology and improved on it. The Star taught us how, Wester. It came from Gildron, and the Star, before they both…left us. You remember those vac-active holos the O's used against us on the Star of Dindabai?"

"I'm not likely to forget them." The O's had seized our ship and captured us all, using holos that focused vac to affect material objects. ConFree and the System could project holos, but those holos were just light images. They could not affect their surroundings. And holos—both human and O—were not likely to be mistaken for living creatures.

"We used that as a starting point," Tara continued. "We reversed the vac, we used its power to compress the air, to the point where we had terrific force—a force field. We call it the Holo-X project. It's so realistic it's scary!"

"That's a ten."

"Come on Wester, Priestess—let me show you! It's wonderful!"

***

"All right, Wester. We're ready. Priestess and I are going to go back to my office, but your holo is going to get there before we do. Now remember. This is very realistic. Just stay calm."

"Sure," I said. I stood in the center of a featureless E-sim room, a circular white dome overhead, a seamless floor underneath. The dome and floor were covered with tiny vac and image projectors. We had used E-sim in the Star of Dindabai to prep for the attack on the Mound. The technology was incredibly realistic. However, Tara claimed this latest system was much, much better. We'd soon see. Tara and Priestess stood in the open doorway to the ES room. A tech was monitoring the system in the control room.