Cross of the Legion (11 page)

"All right, Wester, we're off. No surprises, I promise!" The door slid shut, leaving me alone in the room. My surroundings blurred and then snapped into sharp focus. I froze, startled. I was standing by Tara's conference desk in her office. It was so realistic it was astounding. I took a step and brought my hand down on the desktop. I could feel the smooth surface with my fingertips. The cold knife was there on the desk, right where Priestess had dropped it. I picked it up gingerly. My fingers caressed the tiny crosshatches on the hilt. I ran a thumb over the saw teeth on the false edge. It was exactly like holding a real cold knife. I put it down carefully.

I looked down at my hands, my arms—it was me. I was there. I breathed. But I knew it was not this room's air I was breathing.

The door to Tara's office cube slid open. Tara and Priestess stood there, watching me in fascination.

"Well—how do I look?" I asked.

"It's amazing," Priestess said. "It's you!" She reached out a hand. I pressed my palm against hers. Flesh to flesh—I could feel her warmth! Was I imagining it?

"Good lord!" I said. "This is incredible!"

"Feels like you're right here, doesn't it, Wester?" Tara asked proudly.

"Yeah. Wanna arm wrestle?"

"No thanks. Now remember, Wester—you're not here! You're standing in an E-sim room, and our technology is projecting everything you see in this cube into the ES room, using the same vac techniques we use to produce your holo. Meantime, we see your holo in here. The closer you get to something, the more realistic its image becomes to you. But as for your holo image, here, it's close to perfect, at all times."

I gently pulled Priestess to me, and touched her lips with my tongue. Wet—it was wet! I cupped her head in my hands and gave her a deep, probing kiss, and it was hot and wet. We stood there, swaying, as the room slowly spun around us.

"Gang…if I could interrupt? Does the realism suit your expectations?"

"This is terrific, Tara! Could you leave the room for a little while?"

"Sorry…you're getting a little ahead of us. But you agree, it's realistic?"

"Come here." I reached out for Tara. I ran my fingers over her face, through her hair, down her arms. She giggled and shuddered, helpless in my grasp.

"Amazing!" I exclaimed.

"No need for the taste test with Tara," Priestess said, a trifle uneasily. "I can vouch it works fine!"

I looked around the room. It was hard to believe I wasn't there. Tara had really done it this time!

***

"You asked earlier why I had asked you to come," Tara said. We were at the observation deck, breathing in the dark and the silence, leaning on the railing, looking out at the stars—billions of glorious jewels burning in a hushed black velvet night, an infinite night of glowing nebulae, a cold silky road in the vac. It was a silent, stirring symphony, a magnificent panorama, a vision to die for, crawling slowly over my skin. I knew it was
Atom's Road
, and we were only atoms, plunging into the void.

"Wester?"

"Oh—sorry." The viewport was so realistic it was scary. It looked as if there was a hole in
Atom's
skin; it looked totally transparent. There were only the three of us on the deck. I knew why we were there. She wanted something from me—and the stars were going to help her. She knew me too well.

"What do you think of my holos?"

"They're very good, Tara."

"They're better than that, Wester. They're perfect!"

"Once the price drops, I'm sure every family in the galaxy will want one."

"Wester. The Legion didn't come up with this technology so you can kiss somebody long-distance. This is the ultimate weapon."

"Really."

"Really! Don't you see it? We can project these holos anywhere. We can set up the holo projectors on our cruisers, far overhead of the battlefield. We project the holos downside and airdrop weapons to them, and you'll have an indestructible army. Nobody dies! Your whole squad can move around in the E-sim rooms, safe and sound, recover the airdropped weapons downside and blast away at the enemy. And if you're hit, your holo disappears. Then we re-set your coordinates, project you back there, and you're picking up your weapon again! They can't counter you! Remember how the O holos kicked our butts on the Star of Dindabai? All they had was vac! We'll have everything—x, tacstars, lasers, canisters, chainlinks—everything! An army of Legion soldiers that can't be killed, carrying every known weapon—indestructible! Shoot them, and they reappear! Meantime, the enemy is dying! It's the future, Wester! It's the future of the Legion, the future of warfare. Remember, after O-Rock, I vowed we'd counter the O's holos? Well, I've done it!" She was positively glowing.

"Your vision of the future…" I paused, choosing my words carefully, "…has always been kind of scary, Tara. If you had dedicated your life to healing the sick, or bringing sight to the blind, or something like that, I think you would have accomplished…miracles. But you seem to be focused exclusively on coming up with more efficient methods of slaughtering your fellow man."

"Don't you preach at me, Wester! How many people have you killed? And how many of your comrades have died in your arms? You're not listening to me! There'll be no more casualties, Wester! At least not on our side. No more wounded, no more dead! We won't need medics any more—Priestess can retire! Now tell me about saving lives, Wester. How many lives have I just saved?"

I looked out at the stars. Nothing was going to stop her, I knew—nothing.

"It's the ultimate weapon, Wester." She was almost whispering it to me. Priestess was listening in horror, but Tara was ignoring her. "An invincible army—soldiers of the Legion: true immortals! Indestructible! The System is finished, Wester. The O's are finished. ConFree will triumph. Slavery will be banished from the Galaxy. A rebirth of freedom. Everything we've ever dreamed of, everything we've been fighting for, all these years. And I did it! The Legion will be triumphant, Wester—victory, at last. Justice, at last. My life's work! The galaxy in our…armored…fists!" She held up a fist and shook it, staring wildly out into space. "Justice, Wester. They're all going to die. And we're going to see it!"

I sighed. It was pointless to argue with her. "All right, Tara. Let's get to the point. Why are you telling us all this? "

She turned to me abruptly, and flashed me a dazzling smile. "It's a brand-new weapons system. It hasn't been field-tested yet. Not a real test, in combat. The highest levels of Starcom are very interested in the success of this system. I've chosen the best unit I could find to test the concept. I've chosen 22nd Recon, squads Jox and Cross. That's as close to Beta as I could get. You're going to field-test our system, Wester!"

"I see. Well, we'll do whatever we're ordered to do, Tara. But—again—why are you telling me? Have you told Beta One, Snow Leopard, our Chief Ops, or Dragon, or Valkyrie, our squad leaders?"

"I want you to lead this effort, Wester. You'll be Mission Commander."

"No. I don't want it."

"Why do we always have to argue, Wester? Look—I trust you more than anyone I know. You were magnificent on the Omni ship, on O-Rock, and in the Mound—both times! We would never have made it without you. I would have never made it without you—I'll admit it! You got me through the ship; you got me through O-Rock. And the Mound was all your idea. It was brilliant, it was insane, and it worked! You're tough, and flexible, and you never give up! I want you, Wester, for this effort."

"No. I won't do it."

"Wester—you refused the Star of Dindabai too, at first. But you went, later, and it's good you did!"

"Tara. I approve of your idea. It's terrific. I know it will work. But I'm not the man for this one. Two reasons. First, Snow Leopard and Dragon are both better than I am. Snow Leopard is a brilliant planner. He's perfect for Mission Commander. And Dragon is the ultimate squad leader, the natural tac man. It's his squad, Tara, not mine. He knows the squad. I don't. The same for Valkyrie. Second reason—I don't trust myself any more. I recently killed a man…because I was angry over something he said. He was tied up and helpless, Tara. And I shot him in the head."

"I know. I read the report. It doesn't matter, Wester."

"It matters to me."

"All right. Fine. Snow Leopard is Mission Commander, Dragon and Valkyrie are squad leaders. And you'll be a Starcom observer."

"What does that mean?"

"You'll be a special representative of Galactic Information, functioning solely in an observer capacity, and reporting back to me—whenever you want."

"I'm not going to counter orders given by One or Dragon or Valkyrie."

"That's fine, Wester. I just want your input. I just want to know you're there, for me. And you'll report your impressions to me. During the mission or afterwards. I'll certainly want a full after-action report."

"I stay with the squad—as a regular trooper."

"That's fine! No problems, Wester."

I turned to Priestess. "What do you think, Priestess? Am I missing anything?"

"It sounds reasonable to me."

"All right, Tara. I'll do it." I held out my hand, and she struck it lightly with her fist.

"Death," she said.

"Yeah," I replied.

***

I stood in the gateway to Hell, clad in black armor, pointing my E into the smoking dark, my spotlight lighting up those awful, alien corridors. A grotesque, obscene pile of tangled, shattered Omni corpses lay scattered at my feet. We had blasted our way right into their base with tacstars, and slaughtered every O we found. They had thrown themselves at us, hitting us with everything they had. It was terrifying. My holo kept winking out, riddled with shrapnel, but Control just kept putting me back there, and I'd pick up my smoking E and go back to killing O's. And now they were just alien body parts, sizzling on the ground, and I was standing there, shaking, sweating, terrified and horrified and ecstatic.

This world was truly cursed. As if the Omni attack and the Legion counterattack wasn't enough, the White Death had also recently appeared here. There was now a growing variety of awful ways to die, on Camelora 7. We had been tracking down an entire elementary school that had been snapped up by the O's. They were coming out now—all those we had been able to save from the O's death camp. Psycho was hurrying them along. They blinked in the spotlight from my E. Women and children—a whole lot of them. They were still clothed, so they must have been recent arrivals.

"That way." I pointed to the exit. A swirling mass of children crowded around the adult females. They were pale and silent.

"Any men?" someone asked.

"Negative."

"All right, that's it. No more humans registering inside. Let's take out this mess."

"Opstar charge is set."

"Evac the site! Evac the civilians."

"Pits on the way."

"Pits, Mams, keep your heads down."

We followed the women and children out the glowing hole we had punched through the massive cenite gates with our tacstars. A blue-black sky rolled overhead. Off to the south, titanic phospho clouds of poisonous antimat debris flashed and glittered. The earth shook and a deep thunder rumbled through the sky.

"Keep the civilians moving! Let's go! The shuttle is on the way."

We urged the civilians along over a smoky treeless plain we had blasted to ash. There were hundreds of kids. The O's had scooped up whole schools—and now we were taking them back, teachers and students both.

"Thinker, Dragon, cover us from there."

"Tenners." I stopped and turned, facing that great burning sky—our sky, I knew.
Kiss
and
Miss
were wheeling and diving over any surviving O units. The pilots weren't holos, like us. They were real, Redhawk and Claws. The Legion wasn't yet ready to risk our Phantoms with holo pilots.

The whole sky was burning, swirling up to the cosmos, as brilliant as a sun. It was truly beautiful.

"Bless you!" It was one of the lady teachers, staggering past. "Thank you! May God protect you!"

"Legion! Legion!" Some of the children shouting it out, waving as they hurried past. "Thanks! We won't forget you!"

"Thank you, Legion!"

"We love you, Legion!"

"We're all going to join the Legion!"

I turned my head away. I didn't need this. I could see Priestess, right in the path of the civilians, standing like a rock, E on her hip, on the lookout for O's. One of the children had somehow plucked a flower from out of our holocaust, and presented it to Priestess.

A little blond boy fell almost at my feet, spilling a schoolbag full of papers into the dirt. He scrambled to collect them as they swirled around in a hot wind.

"What have you got there?" I asked.

"It's my homework," he said, looking up at me gravely. "Mr. Ash said I have to do my homework. But Mr. Ash isn't here any more."

I helped him collect the papers. As he left with the others he turned back to me. "I'm going to do my homework, like Mr. Ash said. And when I grow up, I'm going to join the Legion."

I turned back to face that heavy sky, and another child broke away from the group and ran up to me and touched my armor—only that—and then ran back into line. It stretched as far as I could see, all the way to the pickup point. And as they marched on, the children were singing. Singing! I knew the tune. The words came to me faintly. It sounded eerie, coming from those children.

"I am a soldier of the Legion
I believe in Evil—
The survival of the strong
And the death of the weak.
I am the Guardian.
I am the sword of light
In the dark of the night.
I will deliver us from Evil!"

Don't tell me I wasn't there. I was standing right there, in the face of that hot wind, just waiting for some O to show himself, watching those women and children heading for salvation—courtesy of the Legion. They were the future, and that was all we lived for. I was nothing, I was a hired gun, I just carried an E, but damn, it was for a good cause. It was for women and children and the future of the race. No, I wasn't in some E-sim room. I was right there, with those holy civilians, on Camelora 7. And I felt so good my skin was crawling.