Cross of the Legion (3 page)

I knew the Legion was out there. And a lot of people were dying, for me.

I thought about the decision—to detonate the star. Millions of ConFree citizens had died for the future—for us. I wondered what it was like to make a decision like that. Does one person take responsibility? Or do they fix it so nobody is to blame? I wondered if they had explained it to all the people who were stuck downside, before they did it. Or did they decide it would be better not to tell anyone? Deadman. Only the Legion could make decisions like that. It was insane.

Would we really dare do it again?

***

I snatched the sheet up from the doc tray as soon as it materialized. I was at my desk in Andrion Info, eagerly fingering the flimsy doc. A personal note—from Beta Eight. Dragon! I respected him more than anyone else in the galaxy, except maybe for Snow Leopard, our old Beta One. A pers note was very unusual. Soldiers of the Legion didn't normally have time to keep up on their correspondence. They were focused on staying alive. The note had to mean bad news. I was sweating already, a thin sheen forming on my brow as my eyes took in the note. Dragon had written it manually with a light pen on a Legion E-pad that he must have liberated from his Hqs. A Legion cross topped the document, followed by the unit designation. The handwriting was hard to make out.

22nd Legion—The Rimguard
Headquarters, Strategic Reconnaissance Command
Location: [-CENSORED-] Date: 322/04/12
Chief

Thought I'd take a couple of fracs to update you on the sit out here. Where 'here' is I can't say, but I can assure you, you don't want to know. I've got my own squad here—they call me 'One' now. The SRC is a real kick—it's where they put the crazies. We get all the 'choice' assignments, usually in bad guy country. Right here it's so cold that I can barely move my fingers.

Psycho is my second. He's still a major pain in the butt, but he's a good second. He keeps the kids in line. Snow Leopard is in the SRC now, he's in my Hqs. And Redhawk is our driver! He's just as crazy as ever.

Valkyrie's got her own squad too (you remember Valkyrie!). She's in the SRC too, and Scrapper is her Two. Snow Leopard has been watching over us all. Twister is on his staff at Hqs. We're all tenners except I got hit on the last mission and lost my hip. They gave me a new one though, I'm fine.

I hear you and Priestess got your dream assignment to Andrion. Let me tell you, Three, so long as we know there are normal, happy people out there living normal lives, it makes it all worthwhile. When things get bad out here I think about you and Priestess and Moontouch and your kid and I think, that's what we're fighting for, and maybe one of these days it will be me.

Three—you know how the Legion is. I don't know if you heard or not, but I thought I should tell you. Tara was on Augusta 6 when the O's took it. She's missing. I just thought you'd want to know.

Three, you just stay right where you are. Don't you do anything stupid. You've done enough for the Legion already. I don't want to add you to my collection of dead people, I've got enough already. You hear me? You just stay right there!

Later—Dragon.

Tara—missing! I was stunned. No, I had not known. Nobody had told me. We were mindless robots, a swarming hive, focused on the future of our race. Who the hell would miss a single individual?

Augusta 6. It was the first ConFree planet the O's had struck, after we had cleverly stopped their offensive into Systie vac. They had used new tactics, and seized the planet before we could resist.

We had not even had time to detonate the star.

I was tied to Tara for life—just as if we had been born twins. I knew it by then. The two of us had been through too much together. I had told her to give it up, to quit the Legion, to settle down and raise her adopted son, Willard. She said she was going to do it. I knew she was lying, even then. I lost track of her, after they let us out of the stockade. But here was the confirmation. Tara, on Augusta 6. You crazy bitch—you'll kill me before you're through. I know you will. Tara, my evil, dark angel. I prayed she was dead. It was a lot better than living as a slave of the O's. I prayed for her soul, and my own. Why hadn't she just given it up? Why?

***

We had a personal arms locker down in the basement of the palace. It was delightfully cool down there, with shiny marble walls and mirrored marble floors. I hadn't been to the locker in months. It wasn't locked, of course. Nobody would steal anything from us on Andrion 2.

I touched the catch gingerly and the double metal doors slid open, triggering a faint light inside. And it was all there, a sudden nightmare from the past. My A-suit and Priestess's, standing there side by side, awful black cenite armor crisscrossed with hundreds of deep white scars, peppered with tiny gouges and cuts, riddled with hits. The faceplates of the helmets were closed, unreadable, deep dark ruby red, also spiderwebbed with a fine, almost invisible tracery of scars. The sight was so startling, so powerful, that my adrenalin gave me a jolt. It was almost as if the two A-suits were alive, it was almost as if two Legion soldiers were standing there in the locker, standing for a hundred years, Legion immortals, waiting for the signal to emerge, horrors from the Age of Chaos, infernal killing machines, ready for another war.

The armor was sweating. Little beads of moisture, trickling slowly down. Right in A corridor, in Alpha Station, they had propped up an A-suit just like these. It was almost obscene, in that bright, airy place. There was a huge sign on the wall that said, simply: THEY COME IN ALL SIZES. I had to walk past that damned thing every day. Everybody in the Legion was a volunteer. All you had to do was raise your hand, and you'd be at the front.

My E was right next to my A-suit. Waiting. It was an E Mark 3—the best the Legion ever made. I had carried that one into the Mound, on Uldo. A rush of emotion shot through my veins as I gazed at her lovely lines. You beautiful, nasty, sweet black bitch—I remember you! I remember every chip in your armorite stock, I know every scar on your cenite skin. You were in my arms, in the valley of the shadow of death, and you kept me alive. You slept with me, and me alone, you were faithful, all those years, to me. You've got scars from Coldmark, and Andrion 3, from Mongera and Uldo. You tasted starmass in the Mound—you ate it for breakfast! You annihilated all my enemies, humans and O's alike, everywhere I've been, with your superhuman eyes and ears. You're a cursed holy bitch, you're a Goddess from Hell, and we're married for life. You're my slave, and I'm yours.

I reached out my hand to caress her. My fingers were trembling, my heart was pounding. The overhead light snapped on. Priestess stood on the steps, her face as pale as death.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. I snatched my hand away, guiltily.

"I was just…looking," I said lamely.

"Close it!" Priestess snapped. "Close it! You don't need to look in there! There's nothing there!" She was very upset. I can't say I blamed her.

***

The Summer Solstice water festival on Andrion 2 is delightful. For four days everything stops and the Taka spend all their time outdoors, picnicking and frolicking in the forests during the day and dousing each other with water for luck. Every evening they gather around the lakes and the rivers and the Grand Canal, and launch little boats constructed of leaves and carrying miniature candles and offerings of candies and sweetcakes—food for the Gods. And the black waters are transformed, winking with hundreds of little candles drifting along under the stars, with the shores lined with whispering Taka, and the children diving in to liberate the candy and sweetcakes from the Gods.

We strolled along the lakeshore under a canopy of great trees. The black hulk of Stonehall rose behind us against the starry sky. Priestess was by the lake with the crowd, helping Stormdawn launch a boat. Priestess and I had taken leave. It had been a lazy, carefree day, and it was to be a lazy, carefree night. Moontouch was by my side and Deadeye followed us lazily, a stabbing spear over his shoulder. There was really no need for a guard. The Taka had never been happier. Southmark was united, the exosegs were all but exterminated, the priests of the Cult of the Dead were long gone, and Kenton Cotter-Arc's gang had been driven out by the Legion. Southmark was strong and free once again—just like ConFree.

"Let's sit here, Moontouch." A stone slab, from the old Stonehall, set under a tree. It offered a good view of the lake, a black pool sparkling with a galaxy of little golden candles, a lake of stars, flickering faintly. A burst of laughter from the shore. Deadeye vanished into the shadows.

Moontouch was silent, her liquid eyes focused on the lake. She had been very silent, lately. I knew her well enough to be worried about it.

"Tell me, Moontouch."

"I cannot, my Master. Your slave cannot obey you."

"I know you can see the future, Moontouch. I've never wanted to see it before—so I never asked you. But I want to see it now."

"Why do you want to see the future, Slayer?"

"I want to know what to do, Moontouch. I don't know what to do, right now."

"Do nothing! Why must you do something? Do nothing! Stay here—with your family!"

I was startled by the vehemence of her reaction. I had told her nothing about the struggle that was raging inside me. Her eyes blazed—still staring at the lake.

"I only want to know a little. Just enough to guide me. So I can make the right choices."

"There are no choices to make. You must stay here, for the sake of your family."

"I don't want to leave my family, Moontouch. That's the last thing I want to do. You, and Stormdawn, and Priestess—you are everything to me. I want to stay here the rest of my life. But I am very uneasy, right now. I feel…guilty, being so happy, when my comrades are out there, fighting the O's, for me. For us. All I want is a little reassurance…that I'm doing the right thing."

"The future is dangerous and deceptive, my love. Nobody can predict your future. You make it yourself. Read your own heart—then walk your own road. I cannot help you."

"But you can read the future—I know you can!"

Moontouch stood up abruptly, gazing down at me imperiously, her face cold and set. I stood up as well, and she spoke.

"Hear me then, Slayer of my Foes, immortal Godkiller from out of the Great Dark. I speak from the Realm of the Dead. You will abandon me, and your son, again, leaving us to face our enemies alone. I see a White Death, invincible, wasting mighty empires. And innocents, trusting in you, betrayed and abandoned—by you! I see an endless war, and your people exhausted, in despair. I see men without minds, killing without remorse, and children without hope, waving the flags of an evil God. I see two madmen, leaders of the forces of light and darkness, locked in a struggle to the death for the future of humanity. You will follow the one, and fight the other, and never know which God you serve. I see you…leaving your mortal flesh, to walk among the dead. All this I see, if you abandon us. All this can be avoided, if you stay. The Dead have spoken! I can say no more." And Moontouch collapsed into my arms.

***

From the terrace atop Alpha Station's Rec Center there is a terrific view of the starport. I would sometimes go there after work to think, standing by the railing as the sky slowly darkened. Thinking was not good for you, but I did a lot of it anyway. And somehow it was easier, with the entire port spread out before me, the aircars gliding in gracefully on invisible roads in the sky, blinking their lights, the floodlights of the port slowly coming to life, and the music of the stars in my head, crawling over my skin. It was always an awesome spectacle, and it always calmed me.

A few days after the Water Festival, I stood there pondering my fate. Massive blue-black thunderclouds piled up on the horizon, higher and higher, and the sky darkened fast. I smelled rain in the air. A storm was good news for the Taka. It meant that the Gods were answering their prayers, and the Water Festival had been a success.

A few flickers of distant lightning ran through the clouds. The lights of the starport were building, a great orchestra of light, responding to the Gods. It was inspiring, I guess. The starport always put things into perspective for me.

"Hello, Thinker." She had come up behind me, silently, a phantom in white.

"Priestess…hi." The wind picked up, playing with her silky hair. She joined me at the railing, looking out at the port and the darkening sky. She seemed completely relaxed, blinking dark brown liquid eyes. She was slender and lovely—an angel, fallen to earth. I certainly didn't deserve her. I had vowed I would love her forever, and never leave her…just like Moontouch.

A deep rumble of thunder sounded. More lightning. A few raindrops spattered around us. A flight of leathery birds shot past, screeching.

"I can't take this much more, Thinker."

"What do you mean?" I turned to her in surprise.

"You're so gloomy. We used to be happy. You don't ever smile any more. Why can't we be happy—the way we used to be."

I turned back to the port. "I'm sorry, Priestess. I'd like to be happy. It's all I want—a happy life. I want everyone to be happy."

"You're not trying very hard."

"I got a pers note from Dragon. He was wounded. Tara's missing."

Dark clouds raced overhead, spitting a fine rain. A great roar arose from the port. A shuttle lifted, rising into the sky at a steep angle, leaving a hot phospho wake. We could feel the power from there.

"Is Dragon all right?"

"He says he's fine."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry."

"What happened to Tara?"

"The O's got her. Augusta 6."

Lightning flashed, seemingly right over the port. Thunder cracked. A light rain fell on us. It was already pouring over the starport.

"Thinker…" Priestess turned to me and brought her hands up to my shoulders. "Please…forget about all that. There's nothing we can do." She looked into my eyes. "We're here. They're there. Let it be. We've done it. It's over. We've given the Legion everything we have, and we've lost…too much. We've lost almost everything. It's time for us now. Where is our baby? You promised me we'd have a baby!" Throwing herself at me—I could never resist her.