Curse of the Legion (4 page)

The Monument to the Dead had its own building as well. I always thought of it as a chapel for soldiers without souls. There was no statue outside, just a pedestal with a black inset displaying a moving, silvery text—the eternal list of everyone who had died in service. And the word FAITH.

"Enjoying your Offday?" I looked up. It was one of those front office lemmings, what was his name? Tracker, that was it. He was a young Outworlder, blue eyes, sandy hair, in formal black, hovering by my table as if trying to decide whether or not to sit down. Just what I needed.

"Hello, Tracker. Fancy meeting you here." I don't think I had ever seen him in fatigues. My impression of him was that he was a bureaucrat, not a soldier. He was a careerist, poised at all times to advance his own interests. He spent most of his time in the front office hobnobbing with the elite, although that was not his assignment. He was an admin body—personnel chief for BT instructors.

"Oh, just doing a dox run," he said. "Pietran had a fit about the cafeteria dox-water, as he called it, so I'm going to shut him up with something really good. What's that you're drinking? Deadman, Blood Lotus Crush? Are we paying you enough to afford that? I'm going to have to look into your salary." He laughed.

"It's not bad," I replied. "Give Pietran my love." Pietran Karel was the Course C.O. He was a good man and I doubt he regarded Tracker highly. But what did I know? I just carried an E. I turned back to my dox. Tracker hesitated.

"Are you coming in tomorrow?" he asked. He knew damned well I was coming in tomorrow. He just wanted to emphasize that he was working, and I was not.

"I'll be there." Disappear, will you, I thought.

"See you then!" He headed for the take-out counter. Well, I reflected, I didn't really carry an E anymore, although my character was certainly shaped by that experience. I had met a lot of people like Tracker since changing my milspec to Admin. I had done that because I was tired of people trying to kill me. But, thinking back, I had not met many people like him when I was milspec Unrestricted, a combat soldier, fighting O's and Systies. All my close friends, my blood brothers and sisters, had been made then. Many of them were now dead—but they were still close to my heart. Tracker was nothing, not even worth thinking about. He could change my life in an instant with a random personnel action, but I couldn't do anything about that.

I didn't have anything against Tracker, I reflected. He would probably go far in his Legion career. But I thought he represented everything that was wrong with the upper levels of both ConFree and the Legion. ConFree and the Legion were led by aggressive, highly motivated over-achievers. Some of them were careerist bureaucrats likeTracker, travelling in packs with like-minded colleagues, sticking to the office and avoiding the front. And some were soldiers and fanatics like Snow Leopard or Dragon or Tara, often out on their own, usually in perilous circumstances. Some would rise because of their interpersonal skills and some would rise because of their achievements. There was a natural friction between the two groups and when the bureaucrats triumphed over the soldiers, ConFree ran into serious trouble. We had almost lost ConFree the last time that happened, but the Lost Command had pulled us back from the brink. I guess it meant there were still some serious problems with our governmental structure. But what can you do? All government is intrinsically evil—and all you can do is use it, control it, and fight it.

The past was always with me. I was not sure if thinking about Snow Leopard, Dragon, and Tara was good for me or not. But it couldn't be avoided, even in this idyllic place. Snow Leopard was a white ghost, an immortal warrior, my first squad leader and the bravest man I ever met. Dragon was a tattooed terror, a born killer, and the most skilled tac man I knew. We had been through a lot together and we were bonded for life. And Tara—she was a psycher, another doomed fanatic from my distant past. She was my evil twin. All three of them were still alive, despite all we'd been through. And so was I, and Priestess. It was a cosmic miracle.

I tried to clear my mind, sipping at the dox. A group of children were running through the park, their laughter barely audible, carried by a light breeze. I had seldom heard anything more wonderful. My comset buzzed.

"Thinker," I responded.

"Thinker, it's me," Priestess said. "They've got some beautiful new armorite combat boots here, fully powered and aircushioned. These are the very latest, from Tacman. What's your size, I always forget?"

"I don't need new combat boots, Priestess. My old ones are fine." I glanced down at my boots, worn almost white. They were old friends and fit perfectly.

"Your boots are falling apart, Thinker! You really need new boots!"

"No boots, Priestess. You want to buy me footwear? Get me some house slippers. Something soft and fluffy, maybe with a bunny rabbit on the end. But get it in blue, not pink. I wouldn't want to wear something effeminate."

"Oh, you're impossible! I can never buy anything for you. Come on, what's your size?"

"I'm not telling. You just call me when you're through, tenners?"

"You'll love the boots, Thinker. Tenners, I'll call you. Ta."

Combat boots, I thought. Well here's hoping I don't need them anymore, new or old. Bunny slippers—that's what I really need.

###

"That's the shuttle from the
Liberty
," I declared. Priestess and I watched it approach from the observation deck of the Providence starport terminal. Lester was in Priestess's arms and he was wrapping his little hands around her hair, blinking in the sunlight. The shuttle had already glided in from the approach path and now it was floating lightly towards us, raising a giant cloud of spray from the wet field. She was a lovely silver ship, clad in sunlight, a gigantic blunt delta, surely indestructible, lined with little rectangular ports for the passengers to see out. A black Legion cross adorned her tail.
Ours
, I thought.

The noise slowly faded as the shuttle touched down and the stairmod slid up against the fuselage and locked into place. The passenger door popped open.

"Tarshit," Lester said, gazing wide-eyed at that huge metal bird.

"That's tar
ship
, Lester," I replied. "Let's get down there, Priestess, they're coming out."

We spotted her as soon as we arrived in the passenger lounge. A tall, somewhat lanky dark-haired girl, squinting in the sunlight outside, then stepping into the shade of the terminal, cradling a little golden-haired toddler in her arms.

"Millie!" I called out, "Welcome to Providence!" She flashed me a smile of such loving intensity that my knees weakened as I embraced her and the little girl. It felt so damned good to have her heart beating against mine, again. Her scent—I had almost forgotten that elusive, airy perfume. My heart was pounding. She looked right into my eyes and said not a word, but she didn't have to. That look told me everything. Too long—it had been far too long.

"Daddy!" the little angel reached out her arms for me and I snatched her up and held her close. Deadman, I had missed them so!

"Hi, Millie." Priestess appeared by my side, still holding Lester in her arms.

"Priestess!" Millie disengaged from me and reached out for Priestess. The two of them came together like lovers, cheek to cheek. Lester grabbed Millie by the hair. Priestess laughed, pulling Lester's hands away.

"You're looking good, Millie," Priestess said. "And Andrea's growing fast."

"Lester's so big I hardly recognized him," Millie replied.

"Let's get your bags," I said. The shuttle had pretty much emptied; there were only a few stragglers with us in the lounge.

"It's good of you to meet us," Millie said, as we strolled to the baggage mod. I was still holding Andrea. She was an angel—straight from Heaven, blinking her lovely blue eyes right at me, looking right into my soul.

"Well, of course we're going to meet you, Millie," Priestess said. "Why wouldn't we meet you?" Naturally I worried when I heard Millie had succeeded in getting her transfer to the Body Shop in Veltros. I wanted to see her, sure, but I was worried about Priestess. I knew Priestess preferred having me to herself, and I suspected that was the main reason she agreed to come with me to Veltros in the first place. I couldn't blame her. I've never been a great believer in polygamy and I sure didn't plan it this way. But it happened anyway. We were all thrown together, by the gods. Sure, I was worried.

"That's mine," Millie said, reaching out to recover her bag.

"Our aircar is outside," Priestess said. "Your room's all set. I'm sure you'll like it."

"Oh!" Millie exclaimed. She seemed a little flustered, a little distracted, fooling with her bag. "You don't have to do that. I mean, thanks, but you don't have to do that. The hospital has reserved me quarters in the nurse's dorm. It'll be fine." Priestess just stared at her coldly. Oh no, I thought. Oh no.

"Thinker, can you take Lester, please?" Priestess asked. I took him from her arms. Now I had two of them, Lester and Andrea. They were holding hands in no time, but I wasn't paying attention to them.

"Why don't you want to stay with us?" Priestess asked.

"It's not that I don't want to stay with you," Millie replied quickly. She was pale and uneasy. "I appreciate the invitation. It's just…it's just…I don't…I don't want to bother you."

Priestess stepped up to her and embraced her, crushing Millie in her arms. "We want you to stay with us, forever," she hissed in Millie's ear. "We
both
want you to stay with us." They stood there, locked together, and when Priestess finally pulled away Millie was crying. "Now stop being silly," Priestess said. "The car is right outside!"

I thanked Deadman. I guess I should have known better than to worry about Priestess. We have an unusual occupation, and people become very close in the Legion. Millie had saved my life, and Stormdawn's too—nursing us both back to health after the suicide mission to Eiros 4. KCA himself had stabbed me right in the heart—but by then the heart was my least vulnerable part. Priestess was on that mission and she almost died, too. I guess you could say we were one. A lot of the small stuff fades away when you confront death, together, and survive.

###

"At ease!" I ordered, and the troopers resumed their seats in the arena. They always stood at attention when we instructors entered the arena. I was behind the lectern. Today was my first lecture, and I knew the subject well. I slammed the butt of the E onto the lectern.

"This is the E Mark 3. This weapon is to become an extension of your body and your brain. You will learn this weapon, and all its capabilities. You will love this weapon." I was in my blacks. Instructors wore no rank insignia in Basic. All we wore was the combat cross, a low-key silver insignia on the left breast. It said all we wanted to say. The recruits didn't know our ranks, and didn't know our names. But they knew we'd been in combat. I held the E up.

"The E Mark 3 is the standard individual weapon of the Legion trooper. This compact, shoulder-fired tube-fed electronic general-purpose battlefield superiority rifle is equipped with a zoom scope, laser sights, darksight and flash, multiple barrels firing standard xmax, xmin, fighting laser, v-max, v-min, biobloc, canister and biodee. Max effective range is 2,500 mikes for x and 4,000 mikes for laser. It is equipped with a grenade launcher for contac, smoke, gas and biobloc grenades and ports for flame and flares.

"The miniature caseless armor-piercing explosive xtex rounds are fired electronically with a full auto rate of 2,000 rounds per frac or 100,000 per mark. The weapon has no moving parts except for the rounds themselves and the xtex generator that creates and feeds the rounds into the firing tube. X, laser and vac capabilities are integral to the weapon; the other rounds require replenishment of ampacks." I lowered the E.

"See your Weapons Manual to review the specs. There will be an initial graded review this evening. Please note—the high rate of fire is normally not necessary. The E is fully integrated with your tacmod. It provides one-round hits on all targets."

I looked over the class. They were all paying attention. "The E is rugged and reliable. The E is your best friend. And it's the best weapon in the galaxy. She's a beautiful, nasty, sweet black bitch, and she'll be in your arms, in the valley of the shadow of death. She'll keep you alive. She'll be faithful to you. She'll walk with you all day and sleep with you all night. She's got superhuman eyes and ears and a fatal touch. She's a cursed, holy bitch; she's your love slave. And when we issue you this weapon you'll be married, for life. She'll be your slave, and you'll be hers. We expect you to fall in love with her. Don't be surprised when you do."

###

"Cake!" LiLo cheerily announced, appearing with a big tray of vanilla layer cake and setting it on the table. LiLo was a gangly little girl, just a kid who looked like she should have been getting set to enter midschool. She was serving us dox and dessert up on the roof terrace. I loved it up there—the roof terrace had been my idea. We had set up a few rainproof tables and chairs out there. Priestess and Millie were lazily sipping dox and looking over printouts of the
Providence Volunteer
, while the kids were playing on the floor with toys and dolls as the sun slowly headed for the horizon.

"She's so informal," Priestess complained. "
Cake!
This isn't a Legion mess hall. You're too easy on her, Thinker."

"I'm sorry, ma'am," LiLo said. She looked a little…hurt.

"Lighten up, Priestess," I said softly. "She's been doing a good job, hasn't she?"

"I suppose so," Priestess said, taking a sip of dox. "It's just…oh, nothing." I knew the problem. Priestess was jealous of any female within my range. That was the problem. But she sure didn't need to be jealous of LiLo.

"I'll do better, ma'am," LiLo promised.

"You're doing fine, LiLo. Watch over the kids, will you?"

"Yes ma'am." She served the cakes and then joined the kids. They loved her, and she loved them—she'd play with them all day if we let her.