Cross of the Legion (38 page)

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Authors: Marshall S. Thomas

BOOK: Cross of the Legion
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"All right, Psycho," Snow Leopard said in his ear, "you've been more successful than I had dared dream. Make the announcement."

"Can," Psycho replied, and triggered the emergency public address system. "Good morning, Systies! This is the Legion. We're a suicide force. We now control your Nuke Power Generator. All we want is the Supreme Rat—Kenton Cotter-Arc. Turn this murderous psychopath over to us immediately and free our comrades, and we'll leave peacefully. KCA, surrender now and give your people a break. Otherwise, we're going to put this reactor into stardrive and nuke your base, killing you and everyone else. You've got about ten marks to decide. We don't want to kill anyone. But we will, if we don't get KCA. He's all we want, alive or dead. Ten marks, folks! We are fully prepared to die! Are you?" Five snapped the PA key to the off position.

"Is it really going to do it?" Sassy asked, pale and subdued.

"Nah! Relax—that's all nonsense. I hope."

"It hopes!"

"Well, it's a last resort. I don't think we'll have to actually do it. Mmm—these are yummy!"

"Don't do it! We can't have it killing all those people!"

"The only reason to do it would be to kill King Rat. If my buddies get him, we're gone. You and me."

"We like it when it talks sub."

"You and me! You and me!"

"Ooh! Sounds bad!"

"That's me. One bad sub. Can't wait to get you alone."

"Looks like they're getting set to blast the vault door," Sassy said, pointing to a d-screen.

"Back off from the vault," Five barked into the speaker, "or we blow the lid right now!" He reached over to the master power levers and began sliding them down towards the red. He had already deactivated the auto safeties. The emergency claxon came to life, blasting a tooth-rattling warning. Sassy held her ears, grimacing.

"What a day, huh, Sassy? No matter what happens, these folks are going to remember us. Pipe Rats rule!"

"Screw the Uppers!" the candy stick danced in her mouth.

"Aw right!" Psycho had his firmly clenched between his teeth.

***

"Delightful," KCA said, standing behind Priestess not far from the bed. He had entered the room with a large crowd of Arcwhites and Arcangels and Systie hangers-on, Mocains and Ormans. Priestess could not see behind her, but she could catch glimpses of a few boys in white gaping at her. She was hot with rage at her hopeless situation. She could not even move the chains. "Are the cameras on? Are the holos active?"

"Yes sir," a biogen answered. "All functioning."

"Good. Then this is our message to the CrimCon. Iceman, we have received your assassins. This is how we will deal with them—every one. We hope you will enjoy its suffering. Why don't you come here yourself, Iceman, instead of sending a girl to do your dirty work? We'll welcome you, and we'll treat you the same way." He laughed and stripped off his shirt, letting it drop to the carpet, moving up to the edge of the bed between Priestess's outstretched legs.

"Priestess." Snow Leopard's voice was right in her ears, a fierce whisper. "We're coming for you. Don't despair. We're coming." Priestess gasped in surprise. She was not forgotten!

"My—look at that! Tempting!" KCA ran his hands gently over Priestess's legs, and it was like the touch of a snake.

He was going to rape her with all those people watching, biogens and children alike. Priestess wanted to curse him and his descendants, consigning them to burn in Hell for all time, but the gag prevented her from uttering a sound.

"Sir…excuse us."

"We wanted no interruptions, Commander. Does no one listen to us any more?"

"It's very urgent, sir." A new alarm claxon was bleating in the distance, as if to underscore his words.

"Very well. Speak."

Priestess could not hear the response, a low whisper. But she heard KCA's reaction.

"What! You're joking! Another penetration! Through the flooded airspace! Impossible! Are you all totally…are we flooding?"

"No sir, it was only the contents of the airlock door, it's all sealed now. But two intruders got through in the confusion. We're…"

"You're relieved! Captain, put this one in the brig. Locate and kill the intruders! We…"

"Sir. Excuse us. There's more. A Legion squad has seized control of the nuclear power generator, not five marks ago. They're threatening to nuke the base."

"Seized control of the…" KCA was sputtering, apoplectic in rage.

"Sir, we recommend it evacuate the base immediately for its own protection. We are preparing to assault the power center with its permission, but cannot guarantee the Legion will not succeed…" KCA raised a shockrod and blasted the Mocain commander. He collapsed heavily to the carpet.

"Captain, it is now in charge of our personal security. It will locate and terminate those two intruders at once. Instruct our forces to attack the power generators immediately. We want…"

"Sir, we recommend it evacuate the base immediately via the minisub," an Orman advisor squeaked excitedly.

"Captain, that damned Mocain female is still loose. I want energy spheres, set for Mocain freaks. Set them loose inside X as soon as they're programmed. Mocain freaks, we repeat."

"But sir, that will target every Mocain in X—not just the hostile!"

"Do it! If my security forces were more reliable, such actions would not be necessary."

"Sir, the minisub!"

"All right. All right. Our security forces have failed us. We'll be back, Captain—and it had better have some fresh corpses for us. As for this one, slit her throat—and record it! We're…" A rising commotion, just outside the doors. Screams, shouts, the popping of shockrods. Two Arcwhites come crashing through the open doorway to the carpet, shockrods flying. An Arcangel biogen was next, staggering back, swinging a shockrod.

"The Leader…"

That's when Scrapper and I came charging through the doorway, soaking wet and mad as hell, whirling our shockrods like swords at the end of their wrist thongs, so fast they were buzzing, so fast they were blazing white-hot blurs—and everyone we hit went down crackling with electricity. We had learned the technique during the pursuit after our breakthrough into Level X. On the job training. I can't recommend it.

We cut our way into that room, and Arcwhite children and Arcangel biogens threw themselves at us wildly, swinging their own shockrods. They were no match for us. We were screaming, suicidal banshees, not pausing for an instant, sparks flying off our shockrods, two burning circles of power. We knew one slight touch from an enemy shockrod would put us down instantly. It was quite a motivator.

KCA was a fool. One vac gun would have stopped us. But he didn't have one vac gun. Starfleet had plenty of firepower to defend the planet but KCA didn't even trust his own security guards, downside.

"Thinker!" Scrapper was hammering the last of the Arcangels, who were inexplicably retreating out another door, leaving a room full of wounded children. I was about to pursue them when I saw Priestess strapped to the bed.

"Priestess!" What the hell! I spotted a control pad on one of the bedposts and hit it and the cuffs snapped loose and I gathered Priestess into my arms and ripped the gag off. She gasped, exhausted, drained, taking great gulps of air.

"Thinker!" Scrapper tossed me a spare shockrod from the carpet. I forced it onto Priestess's hands and helped her to stand. An older Arcwhite boy straightened up from the floor. Priestess kicked him right in the face without a word, and began stripping the silky white clothing from his unconscious form.

"Right size," she said. "That was KCA."

"What?"

"You just chased KCA out of the room. The bastard is dressed in white pants—no shirt. Let's go!" She pulled on a shirt over Arcwhite pants.

"KCA!" I shouted to Scrapper. "White pants, no shirt! Follow the biogens!"

Chapter 29
False God

"Take the stairs, Thinker. He's on the next level. Hurry!" Snow Leopard said urgently.

A wild mob of Arcwhites and Outworlders and Ormans and Cyrillians and Mocains and even a few Arcangels rushed past us in a panic, ignoring us, shouting to each other.

"The reactor is critical! Got to evac!"

"There's no escape! Blow the water out from X, or we all die!"

"The Leader. Where is the Leader?"

"We can't authorize…"

"Hello, hello…answer, please!" An Arcangel, on a comset. Even biogens don't want to die.

A wide, padded staircase. Scrapper and Priestess and I went charging up as several Arcangels came tumbling down, shockrods flying. Dragon was poised at the top of the stairs, shirtless, bleeding from several knife wounds, head up, perfect combat stance, almost floating on the balls of his bare feet. A white blur came at him, he connected with a thrust kick, and the figure disappeared. Dragon dropped back onto that perfect ready stance. He was weaponless. Weaponless! The man was nothing but a weapon!

"Come on up, gang," he said calmly. "Always room for a few more. Watch out for the kids. They've all got knives."

It was a vast circular office, the walls covered with d-screens and holo starmaps, the room full of conference and commo desks and holo tables. They were all active, but nobody was looking at them. The place was full of white-clad Arcwhites, fanatic and wildly excited children and youths waving knives and shockrods, and icy-eyed Arcangels, lovely doomed biogen girls, also in white, the Supreme Leader's guard force, focused totally on his defense. A massive cenite column occupied the center of the hall—the escape tube! A shirtless man with dark hair and darkish skin was bent over what appeared to be a personnel hatch, set into the tube. It was fully closed.

"That's him," Priestess said. KCA! He uncoiled like a snake, rising to face us, a shockrod dangling from one hand. For a moment all was quiet except for the buzzing of shockrods, and the muffled bleating of the red alert claxons, as we faced that formidable gang of Arcangels and Arcwhites, pausing, on the brink.

"Recon," KCA said calmly. "Welcome. Congratulations—on making it this far. But this is as far as you go. You die here. Hope you have no objections to killing children on your way out. Arcwhites! Arcangels! These are the assassins who have come to kill the Supreme Leader. Now it is time to prove your love. Kill them! Kill them all!"

They came at us in unison, singing some mad song, swinging shockrods and waving knives. I charged the mob, swinging my shockrod in a great circle, downing Arcangels and Arcwhites alike, focused on KCA like an imprinted, mad dog biogen. An irresistible stampede of children suddenly trampled me to the carpet, my shockrod torn away, feet and fists pounding at me, a wild tangle of bodies piling on, knives slashing. I snatched the knife from my belt and cut my way out. One child screamed, blood pouring from his chest, another pale in shock, grasping a bloody arm. I stood there for a moment panting, encircled by Arcwhites. My arms were bleeding, my chest was burning. I stripped off my sodden shirt and wrapped it around my left arm. I had a bad cut on my chest. KCA was still by the escape tube, but he stared at me, almost in fascination.

"You're Beta Three," he said. "I've seen your holos. Beta Three! I'll be damned." He tossed aside his shockrod and pulled out a hotknife and triggered it. It burnt like lava, lighting up his face. He came at me, the hotknife extended. "Kill the others!" he shouted. "I'll take this one."

Dragon and Priestess and Scrapper formed a fighting circle off to one side and the Arcwhites and Arcangels attacked like a pack of ravenous bloodcats. The bodies were piling up but I could only see KCA, coming at me, bent on murder.

It was instantly obvious that he was a hotknife ace. He glided up to me behind the extended, glowing knife, probing gently, slicing back and forth effortlessly, his free hand held loosely behind his back. The Arcwhites circled around us excitedly but stayed out of our way. My own blade was the dark, utilitarian combat knife I had picked up off the floor of KCA's bedroom. It was a DefCorps knife—cold but indestructible. I dropped into knife stance and countered two of KCA's thrusts, deflecting his hot knife upwards. The contact heated up my blade. He slashed twice, a double slice past my belly. I could feel the heat. He thrust and I dropped, jabbing upwards, my blade sinking into his forearm. He gasped and jerked backwards, slashing wildly. He bled badly from his knife arm, giving me a blast of hatred from cold reptilian eyes. I attacked, slashing a wild butterfly pattern as he backed up. My knife glanced off his, showering us with sparks.

"Arcwhites—attack!" They came at me with knives, shouting with joy, slashing recklessly. No shockrods. My only worry was bleeding to death. Children! I slashed horizontally. Two of them went down screaming, spraying blood. An older youth, hot eyes, thrusting. I slashed down and cut back, opening up his chest. A younger child, shouting, hurled his whole body at me, the knife clenched in a two handed grip. I gave him a backhand punch to the face and opened up his arm with the blade. Hot blood spurted all over me. Children! Our own children! KCA's face bobbed hazily in the background. I cut my way through the children viciously, consumed by hatred, aching to plunge my blade right into his heart. Nothing mattered except his death.

Stormdawn slashed at my face, his lovely features transformed into a frightening, unreal mask. Stormdawn! He shouted, leaping at me, cutting at me again with the knife. He was dressed in white silk and his eyes were totally blank.

"Ever faithful,
Ever free.
Immortal leader,
We die for thee!"

Chanting his death song, my darling boy came at me, swinging the knife like a hammer. I staggered backwards, stunned. I crashed into a desk and vaulted over it backwards. Stormdawn came after me, wanting nothing in the world but my death. He was so lovely I wanted to burst into tears. His hair—my hair!—was clean and silky. His eyes—his mother's eyes!—were a hazy brown. His lovely little face was as perfect and flawless as a biogen's. He was growing tall and strong—a prince! I could see his mother in him—and me!

I dropped my knife. He leaped at me, triumphant. The other Arcwhites surrounded us, anxious to witness my death.

"Stormdawn!" He swung the knife right at my face. I countered with a left block but I misjudged and he sliced my arm. He thrust to my belly. I seized his arm and tore the knife from his hand and tossed it away.

"Stormdawn!" I had him by both wrists. I pulled him close—face to face. "Stormdawn! It's your father! I am your father!" I saw only hatred looking back. My boy was a stranger. He kicked me in the groin. I fell to my knees in agony but retained the grip on his wrists—a death grip. He's not getting away from me—not ever! KCA was forgotten. Now there was only Stormdawn. My son!

"Let me go! Murderer! Assassin! You dare challenge the Gods! Die! Die!" He kicked at me. He was crying in frustration at his helplessness, crying—for KCA!

"Storm! It's your father! Moontouch and I want you to come home! Come home, Storm! Come home! We miss you!" I was crying myself now, forcing his face close to mine. I wanted to breathe in every last detail, I never wanted to forget it and if it was to be my death I would go out with Stormdawn's lovely image imprinted on my mind. The rest of the Arcwhites watched, fascinated.

"Come here, Stormdawn." I released his wrists and took his head in my hands and pulled him to me, my vision blurred with tears. He pushed away weakly and looked into my eyes, blinking.

"Daddy!" he gasped, and embraced me fiercely. I could only hold on, exhausted, bleeding, triumphant. And then Stormdawn pulled away again, and looked around at the rest of the Arcwhites.

"I'm going home!" he announced boldly. They stared at him in silence, stupefied. Stormdawn looked over to KCA, who was hauling the escape hatch open.

"False God!" Stormdawn hissed it in horror, but I swear everyone in the room heard it.

The hatch swung open and Millina popped out snarling and her fingers went around KCA's throat and he crashed to the carpet with Millina on him like a parasitic biogen psychotic, her bony fingers digging into his neck, her evil green face hot with rage, teeth showing. She was a terrifying sight, now straddling KCA triumphantly, strangling him to death. He was gurgling horribly, his arms fluttering helplessly. Everyone in the room was frozen in place, watching in horror, with Stormdawn's words still hanging in the air—'False God!' Dragon and Priestess and Scrapper stood in a ragged circle of biogens and children, but most of them were on the carpet, out of commission.

Then an eerie buzzing sound raised the hairs on the back of my neck and it came shooting into the room like a meteor, straight as an arrow to Millina. Sphere! I thought in horror, but it was too late. Impact! It flashed over Millina, burning from outside, transforming her in instants to a smoking, blackened corpse. Millina! I snatched a knife from the floor and charged KCA blindly, leaping over furniture. KCA moved in slow motion, brushing Millina's corpse away, getting up. Valkyrie leaped from the hatch, a roundhouse kick to the head, perfect, KCA was down again, stunned. Valkyrie stood over him, drawing back a shockrod, ready for a tremendous blow. A knife hilt suddenly appeared just below Valkyrie's right shoulder. KCA had nailed her with a cold knife. Valkyrie dropped the shockrod, collapsing, and KCA scrambled to his feet. Dragon and I arrived at the same instant, colliding. We went down in a tangle of limbs. Arcwhites leaped into the fray as well, their intentions unclear. I exploded to my feet. KCA was disappearing into the dark, forcing the hatch closed—but he had someone with him, dragging him in, an arm around his throat—Stormdawn!

"Daddy!" One last scream, and the hatch clanged shut. I screamed, leaping at it, battering at the cenite with my fists. Dragon pulled me off, shouting.

"One, Dragon! KCA is escaping in the minisub! Track him! We're evacing!"

"He's got my boy, One!" I shouted. "Track him! You track him! Don't lose him!" Priestess and Scrapper were helping Valkyrie, gently easing the knife out.

"Who wants to go home?" Dragon asked. A whole room full of Arcwhite boys slowly began raising their hands.

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