Soldier of the Legion (17 page)

I zoomed in with my sight and saw that the rest of the squad had already sprung into action. Ironman stood on the roof of the aircar with his E, sweeping the southwest horizon with his sight. Dragon lay prone with his E behind a nearby dune. Redhawk had been caught in the water and frantically threshed for shore. The rest quickly took up defensive positions.

“TWO FOUR GAMMA, IDENTIFY YOURSELF AND STATE YOUR INTENTIONS! YOU HAVE TARGETED A FRIENDLY UNIT! YOU ARE ENTERING OUR DZ! AIRCAR TWO FOUR GAMMA ON FULL COMBAT PREP!”

Then it hit me. Gamma! I glanced at Priestess. Her eyes were clenched shut and her lips had become a thin white line.

“IGNITION! WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!” Our aircar boomed out the warning.

The squad starburst away from the aircar, Ironman diving off the roof, the others scattering. Warhound and Coolhand snatched up weapons and ran for cover. Redhawk exploded out of the water and dived onto the sand.

A white contrail came streaking out of the southwest and exploded ahead, it must have been right over the aircar, a tremendous crack, splitting the air. A harmless, bright pink phosphorous cloudburst erupted, turning the sky a hellish cast. The Legion aircar shot overhead at max speed, minimum altitude, a silver flash, the sand exploding into the air with the shock of its passing. The aircar wheeled on the horizon, came around for another pass.

I cursed aloud and saw that virtually the entire squad was standing, shouting and shaking their fists at Gamma.

Snow Leopard shouted a quick command and Psycho answered Gamma’s challenge with a smoke round from his Manlink. It streaked after the aircar and exploded right on target with a bright white flash and a tremendous yellow cloud.

The aircar rocked and shook and settled slowly, regaining control, coming right back, sliding over the sands toward Beta, closer and closer. Then it slowed and whined to a stop next to our own aircar. The car discharged a jeering, laughing Gamma Squad. I pulled back from the berm. Priestess was gone. I pounded the sand with the butt of my E and proceeded to recite every Legion curse I’d learned since Basic. I was still warming up when I found Priestess back at the beach, pulling her top on. She refused to look at me.

Feeling like a schoolboy, I found my jox, shook the sand out and pulled them on.

I returned to the berm and sighted in the scene at the aircars again.

###

Snow Leopard was visibly upset, his face already purple. He waved his arms about in front of a smirking, freckle-faced girl with flame red hair who I immediately recognized as Gamma One, Boudicca. She had a Legion cross burned right onto her forehead. I’d always thought she was dangerously unstable, though the Legion evidently didn’t agree. I knew that Snow Leopard didn’t think so either. They’d been close ever since Basic. Fire and Ice.

There were three girls in Gamma, I remembered. Then I saw Valkyrie. She stood at the edge of the beach, hands on hips, her sun-whitened blonde hair flowing in the wind. She looked right at the island. Right at me.

I slid back down the berm on my back and closed my eyes against the brilliant sun. It didn’t help. I got up and trudged back to the beach.

This time, Priestess did look at me, waiting for my report.

“
She’s
here.”

Priestess shut her eyes and nodded sharply.

I hesitated. “Do you think we should go back?”

Priestess didn’t answer. She sank to her knees in defeat.

I closed my eyes for an instant.
Sin, and ye shall be punished.

The pink smoke had finally made it this far and drifted listlessly through the stark bony trees, settling slowly over the island. What a mess! I felt like a kid, caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

I don’t know how long I just stood there like an idiot. Helpless, while Priestess seemed to have collapsed into a hopeless trance.

A splash interrupted our reverie. Valkyrie rose from the water, resplendent in wet, streaming blonde-white hair, ruddy bronze skin, and a dripping t-top and panties. Her E was balanced on one hip and I truly didn’t know what she planned to do with it. She had never looked better.

Her voice was high and forced. “Hi, guys.”

I felt dead. Empty. Flat. I looked at Priestess for inspiration. She met my gaze then turned away, arms crossed. I suddenly remembered to breathe, then I drew my lips tight and turned to our visitor. “Hello, Valkyrie.”

She was right on the edge. The water was warm and the sun was hot but I swear she shivered. “Are you two having fun?”

“Well, we were just...”

She snapped, “Let’s skip the clinical details, if you don’t mind. Can I talk with you for a frac? Thinker? If you’re not too busy?”

I looked at Priestess again but she’d turned her back to me. “Yeah, sure. Uhh...it’s nice to see you.” I’m not too good in a personal crisis. Valkyrie should have just shot me, but she held off.

Back on Hell we had been stranded, alone, fighting for our lives, back to back. I never understood why, but Valkyrie had claimed me as hers when we were on the ragged edge of survival. After we’d finally emerged alive, I took it for granted that she would wipe me off like dust on her boots but she didn’t. She made it clear to everyone that I was hers until the stars froze. Was that it? Was I just a battle scar she wore proudly? It didn’t matter. No matter what happened, I knew that we would die for each other without a second thought. Even now…though it occurred to me that I might be the first to die.

“What’s that on your finger, Thinker?” she asked. I looked down at my hand and blinked. I wore her Legion ring.

“It’s my ring, isn’t it?” Valkyrie asked.

“Uhh…yes.”

“So what’s the little slut doing here?”

“Now look, Valkyrie...”

“Don’t tell me to look! I’ve seen enough! You told me you loved me, and now you’re with her. Is this purely a commercial transaction, or are you going to tell me you love her, too?”

Priestess’s anguish suddenly flashed into something darker. She whirled around and leaped between Valkyrie and me, facing her in a fighting stance. “I don’t have to listen to this!”

“Priestess, Valkyrie—calm down!” Nobody listened to me.

“Shut up, brat, or I’ll rearrange your ugly little face!” Valkyrie snarled at Priestess. “You’ll listen to everything I say!”

Priestess swung at her with a right, convulsed with rage. I jumped between them just as Valkyrie snapped a hard kick. I intercepted it with my chest. They ignored me and came together like two bloodcats fighting over a mate, spitting hatred, clawing and punching and kicking. I didn’t mind so much absorbing their punches—what really hurt was that I realized that I really did love them both.

“Priestess! Valkyrie! Stop it! Stop, all right? Deadman!” We rolled in the sand. I had caught a few really good hits from Valkyrie and my head spun, but I finally had Priestess in a headlock, and I had Valkyrie

by her hair. What a mess!

“No more fighting! All right?”

“Yes,” Priestess gasped.

“Agreed,” Valkyrie hissed.

“Let’s get up now,” I said. “No more fighting!” I released them, and we all sank back onto the sand on our knees.

“Brat!”

“Bitch!”

“Stop it!” I shouted. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, this is my fault! Don’t blame Priestess. I’m to blame, not her!” Priestess had a bloody nose and the beginnings of a black eye. Valkyrie had a split lip and some nasty cuts and scratches. Blood was dribbling down her chin and then she did what I never, ever expected. She started to cry, and it hurt me worse than I could have ever believed.

“I loved you so much, Thinker,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, Deadman. Please don’t cry, Valkyrie.” I didn’t know what to do. I knew how to fight but never could handle tears.

Valkyrie sniffled and turned her bloodshot eyes to Priestess. “You all right?”

“I’m fine,” Priestess replied tensely. I think she was almost as confused as I was.

Valkyrie wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sniffled again, gathering her self-control. “Good. You’re lucky I didn’t lose my temper—or you’d be dead.” Valkyrie raised her chin proudly. “I’m leaving now.” She turned to me. “I just wanted you to know that you hurt me.” Then she rose and regarded Priestess. “You stole my man, Priestess. That was wrong. And I’m not going to forget it. Goodbye, Thinker. We’ll meet again.”

She found her E, slung it over her back, and started into the surf. Then she turned sharply. “Thinker, if I call you—anytime—you must come. We are pledged. Forever. Don’t you forget that!” Tough as a biogen, she wiped the blood from her lips and shot daggers from her eyes at Priestess. “You can have your brat. But I’m going to keep your ring. And you keep mine. We don’t break our vows in the Legion. When we meet again I want to see that ring on your finger.” Then she whirled and dove into the briny water and she was gone.

Chapter 9:
Food of the Gods

We rose into a dark dawn in our aircars, speeding north, facing a blue-black sky full of rainy grey clouds. The horizon tilted below us and rain spattered against the canopy. All of Beta was crowded into the aircar, and Taka warriors were squeezed into the aisle between the seats, their narrow faces streaked with sacrificial death paint, their crude edged weapons cutting into the padded fabric of the cabin’s ceiling. We were in litesuits and comtops. We no longer used the A-suits for scraps with the Taka. The bulky and heavy armor was more trouble than it was worth. We saved it for the exos. It was good, for exos. If it had been twice as bulky and heavy, we would have still used it for exos.

It was a beautiful morning for an assault, cold and wet and grim. Lightning flashed to the east. We were flying over a great grey forest, laced in rain. I hugged my E closer to my body. Priestess was sitting beside me. The morning sun broke through the clouds suddenly and illuminated everything: a sky full of silver aircars, manbirds of pure, deadly beauty, slashing through sparkling showers of raindrops, glittering golden reflections from the sun.

Deadeye was sharpening his stabbing spear with a flat, dark stone.

Close your eyes and accept your fate. Valkyrie had come to me out of nowhere, an icy angel in the midst of Hell. I did nothing to deserve her. And then, in another world, I went down an evil tunnel to face my death and suddenly Priestess was there, out of nowhere. Both had come to me amidst pain and death. I loved them, but would it be the same if we were no longer fighting? Maybe we’re just desperate for life.

The op was all planned. We’d learned where to find the Hand of God, the high priest of the Cult of the Dead. CAT 24 had been given the honor. We figured seven squads would bust the last stronghold of the Cult, and hopefully capture the genocidal lunatic who thought racial suicide an appropriate response to a crisis.

The Cult operated out of a crumbling fortress called Stormport, located on the bleak, rocky coastline of the Northern Ocean. The Sunrealmers called the area the Cold Coast. It had once been the capital of a seafaring empire. Now it served as a refuge for cowards. Priests of ambition. Killers of children.

As we neared our objective, Redhawk dropped the aircar suddenly and the earth rushed up wildly to meet us, then wobbled dizzily and leveled off. Now we sped over a wild barren wilderness of shattered grey granite. Ahead a fierce grey ocean hurled itself at the sheer stone cliffs, bursting into white spray.

Suddenly we saw Stormport, a massive stone fortress built right into the cliff, a home for mighty Gods. It was a huge mound of rubble.

“Faceplates down. Tac mode.” The target would soon be reeking with gas from our probes. Deadeye and the auxiliaries had breathers. Breathers and death paint. The squad ZA was right in the heart of the fortress. The main courtyard was overgrown with wild grass and surrounded by great mounds of rubble. As we approached, waves exploded far below against a shoreline of giant boulders scattered like pebbles in the surf.

Probes streaked and buzzed around the ruins.

We reached the courtyard. “Beta—decar!” The assault doors snapped open. A wave of cold air and mist rushed in, and we leaped out.

###

Strewn about the wet, roofless stone rooms were dozens of unconscious Soldiers of God, but their companions were on the run. The tacnet hissed with commands and comments.

“Any sign of the High Priest?”

“Not so far. Beta, see that group that’s moving to the north?”

“Tenners, we’ll take ‘em.”

“Thinker, take one auxiliary and neutralize the group by the port,” Snow Leopard said.

“Tenners. I’ll take Deadeye.”

“V-min or gas. Let’s not be shy.”

Deadeye and I split off from the others and moved along a stone road at the bottom of another crumbling wall. I had gotten to know Deadeye very well. I had been on many long, exhausting patrols with him, and we had grown as close as possible for immortal and mortal to be. His tribal name was Standfast, and his every waking moment appeared to be devoted to the fight against the exosegs and the Soldiers of God; however, I’d been surprised when I discovered more in his head than the killing of his enemies.

“I am your shield, Slayer.” Deadeye spoke in Taka, which I had absorbed thoroughly by now.
Atom
spun it magically around my brain every night, level upon level. She gave us no rest. She wanted us to be smarter.

The stone road ran along the fortress side of the sea channel that led to the anchorage. I could see our targets up ahead on the tacmap. The ships had come in right here, I thought, through this narrow channel. The road was lined with deeply weathered statues, Taka soldiers, in full armor, facing the ship channel. Larger than life, their heads had all been lopped off by some nameless foe, leaving a long line of headless warriors standing against the winds of time. But when the statues were new, it must have been quite a sight for the sailors on those ships, strange ships from distant ports, full of exotic goods.

In my comset, I could hear Snow Leopard pressing the attack. Beta ran into a deadly hail of missiles: stones, spiked balls of metal, tridents and spears. But the engagement would be over shortly. It was an unequal contest. For us it was just a mopping up operation, but for them it was the end of their world. They couldn’t win, no way at all. They knew it, and yet they would not quit. I had no sympathy for the Cult, but I admired people who would not quit.