Curse of the Legion (24 page)

"Thinker, Dragon. Moontouch is going crazy. She wants to join you. What the hell are you up to?"

"Let her go, Dragon. If we die, you're in charge. Zap the hive, then get topside fast as you can."

"Countdown has concluded! Counting up 05/11. Alert! Alert! Recommend immediate evac topsides."

"Slayer! I am here." Moontouch stood by my side, soaked through, her thin garments clinging to her, long hair plastered to her face and neck, bravely facing the hive. Her head was held high, and her eyes were blazing. A queen, I thought, a true queen for her people. Deadeye and Stormdawn were suddenly there too, guns up, Legion armor and Taka death paint. Good lord—of course! What the hell did I expect, that I would die alone? The whole family was here! Two giant Omnis ran from the entrance, ignoring us, hauling some bizarre equipment.

"Attention! Another Omni ship is launching from the port, headed topside."

"Thinker, Redhawk. Any idea what's going on?"

"Yes. We're going after Taka number twenty-nine," I replied.

"What do we do, Slayer?" Deadeye asked.

"Follow me," I said. We walked stiffly towards the giant doorway, E's pointed ahead of us, safeties off.

Chapter 18
The Monkey

When we actually entered the hive, it all suddenly became real to me—it wasn't a dream any more. We found ourselves in a giant hall with a high ceiling lost somewhere overhead, those crystal exterior walls glowing a soft pale white, facing a shiny gem-hard black cliff of an interior wall lined with tall, vertical openings about twice the height of a man. The floor was a pale pink stone, generating its own light. Off to one side, an airy waterfall crashed down from the heights, thundering into a dark pool, generating a misty cloud that drifted over a grove of dark leathery trees. A giant Omni popped out of one of the doors in the black wall, not even in armor.

"Omni! Unarmored, unarmed, shields down, no psyprobe." Sweety reported, but I didn't need it. Adrenalin flooded my veins as I swung the E over to target the O. It ignored us, scampering over the slick floor awkwardly, its limbs bending in all the wrong places, hustling over to the main entrance and out into the dark. What the hell were we doing here, I asked myself. This is insane. We're going to die here. Fleetcom is going to attack in instants and we're all going up in atoms. Why haven't they attacked yet?

"Where do we go, Slayer?" Deadeye asked. Good question. I had no plan, I was just doing what had to be done before we died, improvising as I went, walking through the gates of Purgatory with no map. There were maybe fifteen of those doorways, they evidently led into the interior of the hive, and I had no idea which one to take.

"Attention! Countdown has concluded. Counting up 05/38. Recommend immediate evac topside. Fleetcom attack is overdue."

"Sweety? What do you see? Lifeforms, please." I asked.

"Thinker, Dragon. Sitrep, please."

"Nothing to report!" I snarled.

"I cannot see within the hive, Thinker," Sweety said. "The walls are evidently honeycombed with deceptors. Please see the tacmap. As you see, it is very general in nature." The tacmap was trash—almost worthless!

"Eyemotes! Give me some eyemotes. Now!"

"Thinker, you will remember that the eyemotes cannot enter the hive either. They are filtered out in the entry hall."

"Thinker, Dragon. You need any help?"

Moontouch had drifted away, wandering casually through the hall, close to that evil black wall. The glowing pink floor was littered with unidentifiable debris—stuff that clearly did not belong there. Something had definitely gone wrong with the O's neat little base on Mantis.

"Give us a few more fracs, Dragon," I said. "We're not quite through." Why should they die with us? All those innocent captives—I should tell Dragon to leave us.

Moontouch paused by one doorway, raised her hand briefly, and stepped in.

###

We walked down a gently sloping corridor on softly glowing pale pink stone, between two sinister walls of shiny black marbled material under a dead dark ceiling. It led us down into the netherworld, far below the hive, and there was a light frost glistening on the walls. It was cold. Moontouch shivered and clutched her thin garments tighter around her but continued marching forward without a single backward glance, walking right into Hell, all alone or leading a squad of avenging angels, it made no difference to her. She knew exactly where she was going. It was dark except for that soft pink glow from the floor. Deadeye and Storm and I hustled to catch up.

"Thinker, Dragon. Sitrep, please!"

"Get out, Dragon!" I said. "Take your folks and get out! There's no need for them to die. Come back for us if you can. I'm not sure…if we're coming back."

"We'll be right here, Thinker! Move it!"

"Get out, Dragon! That's an order!"

"Sorry, you're breaking up. I can't read you." Damn it! Hopeless! Did I really think Dragon would leave us? Scut, he'll probably send in an extraction team!

The corridor opened into a circular hall, faintly lit from above by a ceiling that glowed green. As Sweety adjusted my faceplate I saw a wondrous green sky, shot through with drifting silvery clouds. The O's home planet! I had seen this green sky before, in the Mound, on Uldo.

The hall was built around a mysterious greasy dark mechanism in the center, and it was ringed with a circular structure that could have been a table or counter, and circular rows of what looked like benches with built-in high-backed support structures—probably chairs for the O's. I had seen similar structures in an O starship, at a particularly bleak point in my short but eventful life.

Moontouch made her way to the weird metallic object set in the center of the main table. Deadeye and Storm and I covered her, scanning the hall carefully with our E's. We couldn't see anything that looked dangerous.

"Report, Sweety."

"Heavy deceptors, Thinker. I detect no life."

No life
. It was hopeless. A lost cause. As I gazed at the black, filthy object in the center of the hall, it slowly dawned on me what it was that I was looking at. It squatted over a black pit, and the pit and the structure and the table were splattered with congealed grease. A black metal grill, covered with sticky burnt debris, lay over the pit. Bits of burnt flesh and scorched bones were scattered over the table. A very faint orange glow flickered deep within the pit.

"It is a feasting chamber, Thinker," Sweety answered my unasked question. "The Omni barbecue their victims here, and consume their flesh. I detect many bones—and two skulls—in the pit."

A tingling wave of horror crept through my veins. Deadman, I pray for all those hopeless souls who died here, victims of the O's. Grant them eternal peace and happiness.

Moontouch had wandered over to another dark mechanism off to one side that appeared to be connected to the first. It resembled a great rectangular coffin of black metal, sealed shut. Moontouch stood by it, gently touched it with one hand and then, for the first time, turned and looked at us.

I found what looked like a locking mechanism and lasered it open. The whole top slid away, revealing a pool of sticky, inky liquid. Floating in the pool on her back was an angelic young Outworlder girl, blonde hair soaked in black grease, icy white skin, filmy blue eyes staring into infinity. She was naked, and clearly dead. Then the whole world started to go black, and all I could see was that holy corpse, tunnel vision, the dead girl and nothing else. I could feel the lava, moving in my veins. I reached out one hand and traced the Legion cross over her face. We hadn't even known about her. How many other Outworlder and Taka had they taken?

The pool of greasy ink moved. Something slithered along past the girl's feet. It surfaced and I was about to blast it but I hesitated. It looked just like a little monkey, soaked in filthy black grease, blinking big eyes. A little boy—a Taka boy. He reached out his arms to Moontouch and she snatched him up eagerly and crushed him to her bosom.

"We can leave now," she whispered.

###

We ran back up that corridor to Hell, back towards Salvation, guns up, adrenaline surging, Deadeye and Storm and I in the lead, Moontouch following with the kid clinging to her. Just as we reached the great hall Sweety sounded off.

"Attention! Omni approaching, A&A, mag fields up, psypobes active, Vulcan scanning, safeties off, I am countering with psybloc, recommend…" I didn't need her recommendations and I didn't give a damn for our orders either, not any more, one stinking O between us and salvation, between life and death for us all, my whole family, everyone I loved, Moontouch, Storm, Deadeye, Priestess and Millie, Lester and Andrea, my squad, all those poor Outworlders and Taka and the Ghost Legion, all those dead Legionnaires who had gone before us, for just this one moment. As the O appeared before me the sight gave me a terrific jolt of adrenalin and terror and my finger tightened on the trigger. The O was a horrific vision, its armor all blurred behind the pulsing electric violet haze of its mag shield, the faintly burning tip of the Vulcan moving my way, pointing right at me, the O's split armored head moving, taking us in, I knew we had only fracs to live,
Don't fire unless fired upon, don't fire…
an insane chant. I fired canister auto xmax and Storm fired too and Deadeye fired too. The O erupted, an awful electronic shrieking and popping as the canister darts ripped into its force field with a terrifying buzz, taking it down almost instantly, and auto xmax exploded all over its armor, blinding deafening explosions, spraying cenite shrapnel, green blood and alien flesh all over the hall, the twisted remnants of the O spinning in dizzying circles on the floor, blasted armor smoking and glowing white-hot. It hadn't even had a chance to fire its Vulcan. I gave it a burst of laser just to be sure.

"Deto! I was just about to blast it when you fired." It was Dragon, suddenly there, lowering his E. "Are you ready to leave yet? My passengers are getting downright cranky."

"Yeah, let's go," I said. "You're going to get court-martialed for disobeying orders."

"So are you!"

Chapter 19
Reckless Disregard

"We did it, Thinker! We did it!" Dragon ripped his helmet off and gave me a wild grin. He was sweating but clearly overjoyed. We were all crammed into the
Kiss
, all twenty-nine Taka, eight Outworlder evacuees and eleven squadies. It was so crowded we could barely move but I loved it. We were on max power, bursting free of Mantis's grav and leaping for the vac. Moontouch was in my arms and that little monkey kid was in hers, still covered with glistening black cooking oil, clinging to her desperately. Salvation!

"You crazy bastard," Redhawk called out from the cockpit. "The O's had us in their sights the whole time you were in there! The laser rangefinders were screeching all over our sensors! They never did fire and I sure don't know why!"

"What happened to the Legion attack?" I asked.

"It never happened!" Redhawk replied. "Who the hell knows why? Take a look at the O fleet!"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! May Deadman bless you all!" A young Outworlder girl kissed me tenderly right on the forehead.

I craned my neck to get a look at the tacscreen. When I had last seen it, the planet was ringed with a huge fleet of O ships. Now the dusty red spots were much fewer—where were they? Where were all the O ships?

"What happened, Redhawk? What happened to all their ships? Did the Legion attack?"

"That's a twelve, Thinker. There was no attack. H-hour came and went and we were floating there sweating bullets in front of that Omni hive. Nothing happened. But, as you can see, the O fleet is evacing—they're fleeing. They were launching all their downside ships while we were waiting for you to quit screwing around. I've no idea why." Even as I watched, more O ships were ripping holes in the vac, initiating stardrive.

"They must have been alerted to our attack!"

"But there was no attack! If there had been, we'd all be dead, man!"

"But they're getting away! The whole fleet! The whole idea was to catch them napping! We were going to annihilate the whole fleet!"

"Well, I guess it didn't work!" Redhawk said.

"It's crazy! This was our one chance—to get the whole fleet! What the hell is Fleetcom doing?"

"Count your blessings, Three. We're all alive, and on our way to the rendezvous point."

"But we should contact Fleetcom—find out what happened!"

"We're on comdown. We can't contact anybody until we get to the rendezvous."

I turned to Moontouch. She gave me an angelic smile, and raised a hand to touch my cheek, then rested her head against mine, blinking dark eyes. Her silken dark hair was like butterfly wings, tickling my flesh. She said not a word, and I understood. Deadeye and Stormdawn were gazing at her in adoration. Victory! Never had it tasted better, this, my personal victory against the entire rest of the universe. The Gods were with us. Why should I worry about the Legion attack?

###

"…and that's it," I said. "Mission accomplished. I wish I could have brought the girl's body back, but…well, I didn't." Dragon and I were doing the mission debrief before Snow Leopard, in a little alcove off Recon Control on the
Spawn
. Dragon and I were still in our armor, helmets off. Our A-suits reeked of burning metal.

"You did well," Snow Leopard responded. He was in camfax fatigues, his pale face strained and tired, his hot pink eyes rivetted on us both. He seemed tired. "Good initiative, Thinker. I saw the whole thing on tac review. It was audacious, but it worked…that's what counts. Dragon, I'm proud of you. You always do the right thing, no matter what the damned orders are. I'm proud of both of you." Snow Leopard had reason to admire Dragon's tendency to ignore his orders. Dragon had saved Snow Leopard's life on Uldo but had to disobey Snow Leopard's direct orders to do it.

"What the hell happened, Snow Leopard?" I asked. "What happened to the attack?" I was ready to drop. I squirmed in the airchair and my armor ripped out a chunk of padding from the armrest. I stared at it stupidly.

"Cancelled," he replied. "At the last moment. I was kind of expecting it."

"Cancelled! Why? Was it us? Did they suspect an attack?"

"No. It wasn't you. That had nothing to do with it. Starcom ordered the attack called off when you were already on the way to the target in your Phantom."

"But why? This was our perfect chance to finish off their fleet, wasn't it? We must have spent billions just launching the mission. What in Deadman's name made Starcom call it off?"

"Stupidity," Dragon interjected. "What else could it be?"

Snow Leopard gazed off into the distance, his eyes unfocused. For a moment I thought he hadn't heard me, then he replied. "Have you ever heard of genetic migration?"

"Genetic migration." I pondered the phrase. "No."

"Well, it's not surprising. We've been learning a lot about the O's lately. That O prisoner you captured for us on Andrion helped our lifies out quite a bit. Genetic migration is something that is imprinted into the Omni's biological life cycle. It's hardwired right into their brains. It's not an individual event, it's a racial event. We don't know what triggers it, but it seems to have something to do with events that affect the Omni drive to expand their territory and influence. When these racial efforts are severely countered, this…genetic migration…is triggered. It's a biological event that is evidently formalized by the Omni leadership when it occurs."

"What does that have to do with why we didn't attack?"

"This has happened before, at least once that we know of. After ConFree smashed their fleets during the Plague War, the O's pulled back from their onslaught against us, and disappeared, for some eighty stellar years. It now seems likely that our successful defense of the Outvac back then triggered this migration instinct."

"Where do they go?"

"We don't know. They just disappear. Do you know what's been happening while we were prepping the attack on Mantis?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"The O's were pulling out of every world they had occupied. Every ConFree world, every System world, every world we know about where they have a presence. They've pulled out of Mongera already. And they're leaving Mantis right now. That's what all the activity was that you noticed during the raid. All those starships taking off, all that rushing around at the starport."

"We were kind of wondering about that," Dragon said.

"I see," I said. "Well, it's rational, isn't it? We whipped their asses in Andrion Deep. So they're pulling out."

"It's not rational," Snow Leopard said. "It's a lot deeper than that. It may have been triggered by the battle of Andrion Deep, but we can't know that for sure. Our lifies tell us there are very complex genetic strands that evidently trigger instinctive racial memories and biological survival instincts. These genes are intertwined with their reproductive drives. We believe that when they migrate, they return home to some ancient racial hive where they raise another generation. And, after considerable time, they reappear again in our portion of the galaxy and resume their activities."

"So what?" I asked. "That's no reason to call off our attack! Let the bastards return with half their star fleet missing. What, we're going to give them a break because they're pulling out? You just admitted they'd be back. This was our chance to break their back, and Fleetcom calls it off? We won't get another chance like this. Two billion dead, and we call off the attack? No, I don't get it, I do not get it, at all." Two billion ghosts, I thought, crying out for revenge.

"The decision was made at the last moment," Snow Leopard said calmly, "after intense debate. But there was more to it than what I've told you. A lot more. I don't have the details. I'm not even sure what it was, but we'll all be briefed on it soon enough. I'll tell you this, your buddy Tara made a strong argument to call off the attack. I don't know what she said, but I've been told it was decisive."

"Tara," I said. "I swear, I think she's losing it. She's been doing a lot of strange things lately."

"Like approving your raid?" Snow Leopard asked me.

"All right, good point. But calling off the attack? Deadman! It's crazy. It's like willing our problems to the next generation. Here, here's the O's. We didn't have the guts to kill them when we had the chance, so it's up to you, kids, good luck."

"Sure," Dragon said. "What the hell else is new? Our parents did it to us. Now it's our turn. Why should we be any different?"

"Let's wait for the full story," Snow Leopard said. "We don't know what it is yet."

"The full story is we let the O's get away," Dragon said. "That's the full story."

###

"The people of the Confederation of Free Worlds, through their instrument, the ConFree Legion, accuse ConFree Legion Commander Thinker, serial number 34673002, of violating Standing Order Number One, by deliberately disobeying a direct order in time of war, in combat conditions, in reckless disregard of the mission, thus endangering and jeopardizing all around him. This general court-martial is now in session, under the Legion Code of Military Justice, convened as a field court before special military commission, # 38 of 329/04/43, on board the C.S. Atom's Road, Captain Zim Tana-Tan presiding. Your designation?" the captain asked me. I stood ramrod straight in my blacks, illuminated harshly by the overhead light. Four Legion officers and the Fleetcom captain sat before me at a metal table littered with d-screens and datacards. The makeshift courtroom had evidently been a storeroom. Piles of portable tables were stacked almost ceiling high off to one side, filling half the room. The proceedings were being immortalized by the vidmons slapped up on the ceiling. Justice was swift in the Legion. We were in stardrive, on our way back to the Outvac, but I was likely to be in irons before the voyage was concluded.

"Sir, Commander Thinker, serial 34673002, reporting as ordered," I replied to the captain. The facts were seldom in dispute in a Legion courtroom. Everything we did in combat was recorded, and anyone who attempted a lie would find himself facing a brainscan. Truth wasn't the problem. Justice was the problem.

"Commander Thinker," the captain said. "The penalty for violating Standing Order Number One can include execution, expulsion from the Legion under a dishonorable discharge, permanent banishment from ConFree, periods of hard labor up to two years, and other penalties. Are you aware of the seriousness of these charges?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Let's hear from the people."

One of the officers on the panel stirred. He was a pale young Outworlder, thin sandy hair, clad in his blacks with no insignia except for the combat cross. There were no lawyers in the room—ConFree didn't believe in lawyers, but they did believe in justice. These folks all wore the combat cross. That was their only identification—they didn't even wear rank insignia. They were my peers, and they were going to judge me.

"Commander Thinker," he intoned softly, not even looking at me. "I've been looking over your records. This isn't the first time you've been accused of reckless D, is it?"

"No sir."

"According to what it says here, in 318 CGS you were sentenced to two years hard labor for violating Standing Order Number One, in time of war. You refused a direct order to return your starship and its highly classified cargo to the Crista Cluster, in full knowledge that your cargo was vital to the continued survival of our civilization. Is that accurate?"

"Yes sir."

He gazed at me with a faint smile. "My! It seems you have a history of not obeying orders. One might even say it's becoming a trend."

I did not reply. He looked back at his d-screen.

"Were you the officer in charge of a ConFree rescue mission mounted on planet Mantis, two days ago?"

"Yes sir."

"And the orders for the mission included the stipulation that you were not to fire upon any Omni targets unless they first fired at you or your troops? Is that accurate?"

"Yes sir."

"Did you completely understand those orders?"

"Yes sir."

"And, during this mission, did you enter an Omni hive and come face to face with an Omni?"

"Yes sir."

"Did the Omni fire at you or your troops?"

"No sir."

"Did you fire at the Omni?"

"Yes sir."

"Thank you, Commander. The people of ConFree are satisfied that the accused is guilty as charged, and we have no further questions." He went back to his d-screen, seemingly losing interest in me.

"Any further questions from the court?" the captain asked.

One officer raised a finger lazily, and the captain nodded at him. "My colleague," the officer said, "has done an excellent job in ascertaining the facts." He smiled pleasantly at the officer who had been questioning me. The new fellow had darker hair and deeply tanned, almost leathery skin. He was an Outworlder too, but looked like an outdoors type. His blacks were unpressed. "It appears clear that Commander Thinker did violate his orders. There is one question that my colleague did not raise—probably just an oversight, I'm sure. I would be curious to know exactly why Commander Thinker chose to violate his orders. It might help us in the sentencing decision."

"Please proceed," the captain intoned.

"Commander Thinker," the man smiled softly, "why did you decide to violate your orders by firing at the enemy before he fired at you? Please give us your reasons."

"Yes sir," I said. "As we approached the main hall from the lower levels Sweety—uh, she's my Persist—warned me that an Omni was present, armored and armed, mag shields up, Vulcan safety off, psyprobes active. Sweety told me she was projecting psybloc on the target. As I entered the hall, I saw the O and it turned to face me. It raised its Vulcan and I noted flame was flickering from the barrel. I raised my E to target it and I noted the O moved the barrel of the Vulcan to point directly at me. I also noted that the O's head moved slightly as if to focus directly on me. That's when I fired." My heart was pounding. Describing the incident brought it all back to me, right there in the courtroom.