Slave of the Legion (10 page)

Not blown power packs or Systie squads or nova beacons or snakes or spheres or airsat or soilsat, not traitors or hysterical new guys, not even desperate novas from Legion units—nothing was going to stop me! I was a slave of the Legion and I was marching to the Mound, and nothing at all was going to stop me.

I snapped open my visor. The snow had stopped. The air was icy. I held my E tightly against my chest. Slave of the Legion—yes, I was a slave, I realized. Just as surely as if they had put chains on my legs. I was going to die for the Legion. But that was all right—I didn't mind. We were all slaves of Fate. And we were all going to die—even immortals, like us. Those were my brothers and sisters, up there on those cenite stakes. And we were going to avenge them. I felt good—about everything. Ecstatic, I suddenly realized. Ecstatic, just as Tara had said. What we were doing was something good, she had said, something good, and simple. Marching in the mud, for God, for Justice, for our people.

"Send me back. Please!" Speedy moaned. "I can't do it. You're all insane! You're going to die if you go on—you're all going to die! One, please! I can't do this!" He was still on his knees.

"Somebody shoot him," Valkyrie casually suggested.

"Fourteen, go on private to me, please," One said. We couldn't hear the rest. We didn't even care. Shoot him, let him go—it didn't matter. We didn't need him, we didn't want him. He would not be coming with us, I knew. Everyone else was quiet, but I knew what they were thinking—I knew.

When Snow Leopard was through talking with him, Speedy came back onto the tacnet, transformed. "Thanks, One! You don't know how much this means to me. I'm going to go back and quit the Legion. You're right, this is not for me. Guys, I appreciate it. Merlin, Psycho—thanks for your help. I'm sorry it didn't work out. Twister, good luck to you. I'll never forget you guys—best of luck to all of you! Any messages? I can take messages back." He was edging back the way we had come.

"Yeah," Valkyrie said. "Tell them we're going on with the mission."

"I'll do that. Goodbye, Beta—good luck!" And he raised his E in farewell and turned and started walking back.

"He'll never make it," Psycho said.

"He knows the risks," Snow Leopard said. "He prefers them to what lies ahead. I did all I could for him. I told him exactly what route to take. Assuming he can get past the guys that are following us. It was either that, or shoot him. I wasn't going to have him accompany us any further."

"He was a strange guy," Dragon said.

"No, he wasn't," Scrapper said softly. "He wasn't strange at all. He was perfectly normal. It's we who are strange."

And that was the final, frightening word on Beta Fourteen.

We put him right out of our minds.

"All right," Snow Leopard said coldly. "We continue the mission. Recon formation."

Chapter 8
The Mound

"That's it, guys. That's the Mound." We were flat on our armored bellies on a bleak, treeless plain. The snow had stopped and the clouds were blowing away, leaving a clear, luminous pale grey sky and a cold white sun. There was no sign of deceptors. We were lumps of snow in our camfax, crawling like worms through dry packed snow. We were several K away from the Mound but the zoom on my faceplate brought it up close, and the scope on the E brought it even closer. And there it was—the Mound.

It was a massive, circular structure, a great earthen mound on the horizon, the top dusted with a layer of brilliant white snow, glittering in the sunlight. Vents on the roof spewed faint plumes of smoke that drifted off slowly in a light breeze. There were dark openings on the sides—it was hard to make out the details. At ground level, great blackened cenite doors were firmly closed. The Mound rose up against the skyline, an imposing, brooding presence, dark and silent. It appeared to be completely deserted.

"Those windows look like they open," Psycho said.

"Those aren't windows," Dragon said. "They're grates of some kind. Don't look like they open to me."

"Do so."

"Don't."

"Quiet," Snow Leopard said. "It's doubtful we'd get to them anyway, they're too high. Does anyone see any camo doors up near the top?"

I snapped up my visor and set the scope on my E to max. Grass grew on the side of the Mound. Earth covered the entire structure. I couldn't see any camo doors. There was not a sign of life.

"They're going to spot us out here," Dragon said calmly.

"You're a real strategist," Psycho replied.

"There could be anything under that dirt, One."

"How do we get through those gates, One?"

"Mother will get us in, guys," Psycho responded quickly. Exactly—the Manlink would get us through. Tacstars—micronukes. We'd walk right in through a nuclear cloud and die with our fingers on auto x.

"Hopefully, that won't be necessary, gang," Snow Leopard remarked. "Merlin, what about those structures on top?" One was off to my left, with his spotter. I brought my sight up to the roof. There were several bizarre metallic devices up there.

"Commo or guidance systems," Merlin said. "Hard to say—we don't know much about the O's commo."

"If there are any O's in there," Tara said, "they don't seem interested in what's going on outside."

"How do you know?" Snow Leopard asked.

"Nobody's psyprobing this area," Tara replied.

"I wonder why."

"You'd think they'd do it routinely."

"All right," Snow Leopard said. "Mission briefing. Listen up, guys."

I knew it was important when Snow Leopard said to listen up. Mission briefing! We were almost on top of the target, and only now does he do the mission briefing. We were about to find out what was really going on. We didn't move; we continued lying there like lumps of snow, scoping out the target, but our One's voice was right in our ears, crisp and clear.

"There are a few details about this mission which I have not so far revealed," he said. "But the time is now right. The original mission was to recon the Mound, discover what it is, and report back. If the Legion had the resources and if the situation justified it, a stronger force would then attack the Mound. That was the original mission. The Legion simply wanted to know what the mounds are, what they do. A simple recon mission.

"Shortly before we left, the mission changed. As you know, the O's have built plenty of mounds on Uldo. And as our offensive penetrated into the death zone, something curious happened to the mounds. Starships came out of them—Omni starships. Camo doors opened up near the top, and out of every mound a single starship exited, and flashed on up through the at and escaped, out to the vac."

We listened, completely silent.

"That happened to every mound on the planet, except for one—this one."

"You mean the ship is still in there?"

"That's what the Legion thinks."

"Deadman! An Omni starship!"

"Exactly," Snow Leopard said. "An Omni starship. We've been fighting the O's for hundreds of years and never seen the inside of an Omni starship. The damned things detonate when you hit them. If we can seize this one and secure it for the Legion, it could change the course of history. It could win the war for us—it might actually ensure the survival of our species. There's simply no way to stress how important this could be."

"But it might not even be there, Snow Leopard," I objected. "Maybe there is no ship. Maybe it left already, if there ever was one."

"It's possible, Thinker—but we think it's there. The exterior configuration of the mound changes slightly when a ship is launched. This mound hasn't changed. It looks like it's still inside."

"Good Lord!" Merlin exclaimed. "An O starship! Well, you've got my interest!"

"The mission," Snow Leopard said, "is to penetrate the Mound and seize the ship, if it's there, and insure it doesn't leave. Cripple it, if necessary."

"Good Lord!"

"We have no idea what else might be in the Mound. Our offensive has not yet overrun any other mounds, so this is a first. You should also know that Cinta was assigned to us because she is a psycher of extraordinary abilities. With her along, our chances of survival against the O's psypower are increased. Of course she can't counter them—nobody can. But she might give us a little extra warning. And this mission is important enough to the Legion to justify her presence."

"A psycher! So that's it!" Twister exclaimed.

"We were wondering about her," Scrapper said.

"Cinta, can you read my mind?" Psycho asked cheerily.

"I'd rather not," Tara said, "if you don't mind."

"If she's a psycher," Merlin said, "she must know who set off the nova."

"Cinta?" Snow Leopard asked.

"I can't tell who set off the nova," Tara replied carefully. "The reason is that it was not a conscious act. The person who set it off is not himself aware that he—or she—did it. The act was performed in an autohypnotic trance, initiated by subconscious suggestion to a subject who has been programmed to receive subconscious commands. The neural process involved is so deeply covered that even I cannot read it."

"How does somebody get programmed to receive these commands," Dragon asked, "and who does it?"

"The Legion does it," Tara responded, "on a very selective basis. It's a controversial program. Most of the Legion leadership opposes it. But those who favor it—including the upper levels of ConFree—have so far prevailed. You see, it gives them direct control over individuals in the field. It's a long-range, experimental program. The subjects are chosen not with any particular mission in mind, but just to ensure that there are receptive subjects out there—just in case they're ever needed."

"Must be handy if you don't trust your troops! That sounds like the System, not ConFree!"

"ConFree!" I said bitterly. "I might have known!" I had not trusted ConFree ever since Andrion 3. The bastards were Inners, manipulating us like toy soldiers. The Legion took its orders from ConFree, we existed only to defend ConFree, but sometimes I wondered about ConFree's motivation.

"The initial programming is rather lengthy," Tara said. "It takes several hours. Once that's done, the subject is yours, forever. You can access the subject during sleep, through normal sleep-ed channels, awaken the program with a code word, and give your orders. When the circumstances are correct to accomplish the mission, the subject will act, then revert back to normal, remembering nothing. And even I cannot detect it, unless I'm around when the act is being performed. Unfortunately, I was asleep when the nova went off."

"Those bastards!"

"But how do they do it? How do they do the initial programming?"

"Has anyone ever spent any time in the body shop?" We all had, of course. All of us.

"But why? Why should the Legion want to wreck this mission? They gave us the mission!"

"Why, indeed," Snow Leopard said. "Well, that's the question, isn't it? It's a critical mission. The struggle with the O's on this planet is still underway, and every Legion unit is fully engaged, but I've got a promise of strong reinforcements—very strong reinforcements—if I can confirm there's an O starship in the Mound. Makes you wonder who would oppose such a mission."

"So who do you think is trying to stop us?"

"Well, first of all there's the Systies. That should come as no surprise. That squad that almost walked into us in the river—I'm certain they were looking for us. It wasn't a coincidence they were walking the same river as us. They knew our route—they knew we were taking the river. That's why I left the river."

"You mean the Systies want the ship as well."

"The word got out—somehow—about our mission. About the ship, and about our route. The Systies certainly don't want the Legion getting its hands on that ship—they want it themselves."

"All right, but the Systies didn't mess around with our minds!"

"No, they didn't. There's somebody else that doesn't want us to do this mission. The bunch that did the autohypnotic trance on one of us, and sabotaged our power reserves so we couldn't contact Recon Control—probably hoping it would get us killed. The same bunch that sent that aircar that got blown away by the O's—the hunter-killer teams that called a nova, and told us our mission was cancelled—Blue Gold. They wanted to draw us away from the target, too. They don't want the mission to succeed, either. They're still out there right now, just like the Systies, tracking us down. Legion troopers, it appears. Whoever is behind this, they're being very cautious in the way they do it. I'm sure there's a good reason for it."

We lay there in the snow, listening to our One and watching the Mound through our scopes. The sky was clearing rapidly, a bright, sparkling day. There was not a sign of deceptors. Our tacmods were crystal clear. It was not good, for us.

"Nobody wants us to do it," Snow Leopard said quietly. "Everybody is against us. We're even fighting ourselves. But none of that matters to me. As far as I'm concerned, we've got a mission from Recon Control, and until I hear directly from them that the mission has been cancelled, I'm assuming it's still on. We're going to get that ship, gang, and hold it against all comers—no matter who they are."

"What about whoever's under that autohypnotic trance?"

"Whoever it is," Snow Leopard said, "will try again. Probably at a critical time. Keep alert, and listen to Cinta. She might give us a few fracs warning, when whoever it is starts to surface. It could be anybody—maybe even me. Maybe even you! Don't trust anybody! And remember, the mission is the ship. That's the only mission! Everything else is secondary."

"Tenners."

"Ten."

"Does everybody agree?" There was a murmur of assent.

"Then we do it! All the way—we do it or die! Is everyone with me?"

"We're all with you, One," Valkyrie said. "Just give us the word!"

"This is our payback, gang," Snow Leopard said. "for everything! For Coldmark, for Andrion 3, for Mongera. This one's for Gamma. And Beta Two, and Six, and Seven." I could almost feel his icy rage.

"Damned straight," Valkyrie said. "Payback!"

"Anything moves, it dies," Snow Leopard said. "I want those psybloc grenades going off like firecrackers, gang—we've got plenty!"

"You hear that, Momma?" Psycho said to his Manlink. "Coolhand, Warhound and Ironman! They're going to be right beside us! Just like the old days! They're cutting us loose, Momma! If it moves, it dies! All right…all right! You heard the man!" Psycho was completely insane, but I was really glad he was on our side. He was the Angel of Death. Nothing ever happened to him—he was invincible. And I suddenly realized something. I went on private to One.

"One, Three."

"Yes, Three."

"Psycho has never spent any time in the body shop—other than routine physicals. He's never been wounded."

"Yes, I know, Thinker."

"The rest of us all have—except maybe Thirteen. So chances are we can trust Psycho."

"Well, I hope you're right, Thinker. Just stay alert—we'll be all right."

"Tenners." Of course, Snow Leopard already knew—he knew everything.

"ALERT!" Sweety shouted in my ears. "Systie armor, as marked! I have three A-suits! I have numerous unarmored humans—sixty…seventy…eighty-six, as marked!"

"Prep for combat," Snow Leopard ordered. "They'll spot us!" We were already combat dispersed. I switched my E to auto xmax. They were walking out of the east, evidently heading west, toward the Mound. We were northeast of the Mound, well hidden, but there was no way they were not going to detect us under this sky. I snapped down my visor and Sweety zoomed me in on them. They were still on the horizon, a long way off, just moving shadows against the snowy ground. They were walking slowly, trudging towards the Mound.

"Systies! Well, I'll be damned," Dragon said. "This can't be the bunch that was following us!"

"The walking dead," Psycho said quietly. "Can I use tacstars, One?"

"Nobody fires until I give the word," Snow Leopard responded. "Let's see what we've got first."

The wind picked up, moaning past my armor. We watched them approach, growing slowly in our scopes. Finally I made out the first figure—a DefCorps trooper, fully armored, a camfax smock flapping around him in the rising breeze. He carried an SG, walking slowly, step by weary step. It was obvious it had been a long march. Behind him—who were they? Civilians—a long line of civilians, dressed in rags and blankets, staggering forward, exhausted. I saw men, women, and children. What the hell? Who were these people?

Snow Leopard consulted a field map. "Massan," he said suddenly. "They've got to be from Massan. A big settlement, not a hundred K away. Captured some time ago by the O."

"But what's happening?" Priestess asked. "Are they going to the Mound? Why would Systie troopers be taking civilians to an Omni mound?"

"Don't know. Let's wait and see."

We waited, as the ragged line of civilians drew nearer. There were only three Systies in A-suits, the one in the front and two at the rear. All three had SG's. It soon became clear that the procession was indeed headed for the Mound.