March of the Legion (6 page)

Chapter 6:
Oplan Gold

The Systie trembled. We had secured his hands behind his back and when Priestess brought him back to full consciousness, he found himself surrounded by Legion soldiers in black A-suits and darkened red faceplates. He could see no human faces, only his own reflection flashing off the faceplates of the enemy. I stood to one side, my E pointed right at his chest. He was indeed a weird bird, still young, unarmed and unarmored, pale and sickly, thin and wiry, cold blue eyes and shaven head, dressed in a rumpled civilian litesuit. He did not look like a soldier.

Snow Leopard cracked open his helmet and removed it. He was a pale horror, white hair and hot pink eyes glaring at the Systie. The Systie stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Systie, this is a combat tactical interrogation," Snow Leopard recited coldly. "You are a combatant, and you are being interrogated by field elements of the Twenty-Second Legion of the Confederation of Free Worlds. We are now in a combat situation, and your cooperation is essential to our tactical success. If you refuse interrogation or attempt to deceive us, you will be shot dead immediately as a combatant. If you cease resistance…"

"Just a moment," the Systie squeaked. "Just a moment—Legion's mistaken. We're not a combatant."

"Silence!" Snow Leopard barked. "The decision is ours to make. You will speak only when responding to our questions! All Systies here are combatants. You have been designated a combatant by us, based on your presence here. If you cease resistance, and cooperate to our satisfaction, you will be granted official ConFree prisoner of war status and will come under the protection of the laws of the Confederation and of the interstellar code on prisoners of war. Do you understand the situation?"

"No! It's Legion who doesn't understand! We're not a combatant! We're a diplomat! We're a diplomat of the Galactic Service of the Government of the United System Alliance. Our status is protected by interstellar law. We are not a combatant!" The Systie was twitching.

Snow Leopard paused, staring silently at the Systie. Then he turned to me. "Set your E to flame, Three," he said calmly. "I don't want to alert the O's." I made the adjustment. Snow Leopard focused on the Systie again.

"A diplomat, huh? What's a Systie diplomat doing in ConFree vac? Or—better yet—what's a Systie diplomat doing in an Omni starport? Would you care to answer either of those questions?"

The Systie froze, blinking his eyes nervously. He appeared very uneasy. Understandable, considering the circumstances. "We are on a diplomatic mission for the United System Alliance," he answered carefully. "We're afraid that's all we can tell it. We can discuss no further details of our instructions. We must remind it that we have diplomatic immunity from arrest or detention, under solemn interstellar agreements signed by both our governments." For a skinny, bald little creep he certainly had a way with words.

"You haven't been keeping on top of current events, Systie!" Snow Leopard snarled. "The System and the Confederation are at war! Or hadn't you noticed? You seem kind of slow, for a diplomat! As a matter of fact I don't think you are a diplomat—but it doesn't matter now—not in the slightest. You have been officially designated as a combatant by the Legion. Your choice is to cooperate fully, or die! Do you understand?"

"We are not a combatant! We are a…"

"Talk or die! Choose!"

"We object! We object! We're not a combatant! We are a diplomat!" He was wild-eyed and frantic.

"Kill him." Snow Leopard turned on his heel and walked away. "Ten, is the aircar ready yet?"

I shouldered my E and centered it on the Systie's chest.

His eyes widened and focused on my faceplate. I knew he could not see my face. I was Death, cold and merciless and totally impersonal. I had never before killed an unarmed, helpless prisoner. I reflected briefly on this as my finger tightened on the trigger, but I could feel no emotion. His death would be mercifully brief, for the flames were quick and powerful.

"Wait! Wait! Wait! All right, all right, we'll tell it! All right!" The Systie was bathed in sweat. He was shaking violently. I raised my E and turned to Snow Leopard. He impatiently returned to the Systie and stood there looking down at him.

"Last chance, Systie. No more games. Complete cooperation, or you die. Do you understand? Yes or no."

"Yes."

"Will you cooperate?"

"Yes."

"One lie and you die. Understand?"

"We understand." He sat there on the floor sweating, hands secured behind his back.

For the first time, Snow Leopard squatted down before the prisoner. "Three," he said. "Join me. Five, you're on guard."

"Ten."

"Ten." I cracked open my helmet and secured it to my U-belt. The Systie stared at me. I glared back at him.

"Would it really have killed us?" he asked me quietly.

"Silence!" Snow Leopard barked. "It's you who'll answer the questions. Now—what is a Systie diplomat doing in an Omni starport?"

"We've never really been in the starport proper. We have always been restricted to our own installations."

"Answer the question."

"STRATCOM called it Oplan Gold," he said quietly. "It was Cosmic Secret—it was our greatest achievement. It's been almost a hundred stellar years we've held the secret. And it's meant a hundred years of peace in the Galaxy. Generations, without the curse of war. And the System was responsible! Yes, we brought it about. Do you expect us to apologize? We're proud of what we've done—proud! We are peacemakers. Peacemakers! Billions of our citizens have lived in peace, without ever knowing the sacrifices made for them by the System. Does Legion think it was easy? So many of us have given our lives, quietly, willingly, for the cause. But now the Legion is here, and it has all changed—it doesn't know what it's done. It hasn't the slightest idea. Billions will die, now. Billions!"

"My patience is limited," Snow Leopard stated. "I am getting tired of repeating myself, and I will add that we do not have much time."

The Systie licked his lips. "Is it that difficult to comprehend? We made contact with them, almost a hundred years ago. Contact with the Variants—we communicated with them! They communicated with us! It's a wonderful story, a heroic story—so many sacrifices, so many dead! And yet reason prevailed, and we refused to give up on our efforts. Some day there will be monuments to all those who died, for peace!

"The result we see before us—a Variant starport, a System base, two different species cooperating, for a common goal—peace in the galaxy, peace in our time, peace for all, peace for the Variants, peace for us. But now the Legion is here, and it's all going to end!"

"You're damned right on that! What were you giving the Variants?"

"Unitium. Unitium from the mines of Andrion Two."

"Why didn't the Variants set up their base right there?"

"They never revealed that. We believe they were concerned about the Legion. It was easier to camouflage the starport on Andrion 3. If the mines were discovered, there would still be no reason to suspect the Variants."

"Do you know what they do with the unitium?"

"Well, no—that was never clear, although we're fairly certain it's vital to their star drives."

"This has been going on for almost a hundred years, you say."

"Yes, that's right—a hundred years of peace!"

"In exchange for a hundred years of unitium."

"Yes. That's one way of putting it. But what's important is what we gained from the exchange, in terms of peace, and in terms of understanding."

"So the Variants understand you?"

"Well…no. That was never clear, either. There are many problems. But we understand them, much more than we did. We've learned so much!"

"Have you learned how to kill them?" I could not resist interrupting. The Systie looked at me as if I had slapped him.

"We are not authorized to conduct research in such subjects! And we don't want to. Our mission is understanding. The Variants are very powerful psychics —very powerful! We can hide nothing from them."

"Redhawk," One broke in. "Progress report."

"We're getting there, One! Not much longer! Priestess, will you hold the light steady, please?"

Snow Leopard had his hand on his forehead. I knew he was weary. "Release him, Thinker." I touched the release and the Systie's bonds fell away. He moved his hands gingerly around to his front and began massaging his wrists. From time to time, he stole little glances at me. My face was a stony mask.

"Give him water, Thinker." I unhooked a canteen and handed it to him. He took a sip, carefully, then a deep swig. He looked into my eyes when he finished.

"Do we think we can fight them?" he asked. "Do us a favor—surrender now! Legion has no chance. It will not leave this planet alive."

"Systie," One said patiently. "This is the last time I'm going to ask this question. If you don't answer it, we're going to kill you. Why are you here?"

"We were negotiating with the Variants. We were communicating—deciding on a joint response to counter the Legion aggression on Andrion 2. Legion has no idea what tragic consequences its interference will have, for everyone."

"A joint response. How do you do that—compromise?" Snow Leopard asked.

"Well…no. We respect their wishes. We have no choice, if we wish to preserve the peace."

"I see. Describe what happened here when we attacked."

"It doesn't know? We're sorry, we can't help it. We were right here in the aircar base when its antimats hit. We had just returned from a visit to our science station when the alert went up, and they announced a full-scale attack against the starport. They launched all the aircars—except these two—and then its antimats went off. Incredible! We were talking with them—communicating! And it attacks with antimats. It's hard to accept."

"It was just our way of getting their attention," I responded. I was beginning to dislike this Systie dip. He gave me a poisonous look.

"It was simply barbaric. It certainly confirmed their worst suspicions about us."

"What happened!" Snow Leopard was impatient.

"It was very confusing. We lost commo with everyone. We had reports of Legion troopers landing. The starport seemed to be gone. The aircar control center didn't answer.

"The duty crew at the hanger split up and left, to investigate the situation. They only left one unit to cover the hanger—and us. Finally it left, too."

"Where did he go?"

"We think the V called it. We thought perhaps the Variants didn't understand, about the attack—about the difference between the System and the Legion."

"It's you who don't understand," Snow Leopard said. "The O—the V—understand us perfectly."

"All our work is for nothing now. A hundred years." The Systie gazed blankly into space. "We were alone after that. Just us. It has no idea what a tragedy this is."

"I find it amazing," Snow Leopard remarked, "that a person of your obvious intelligence is so totally blind to the true consequences of what the System has done here. Don't you have any doubts at all about the morality of your mission?"

"Doubts? Doubts? None! No! We are soldiers of peace, giving our lives for peace, for understanding between two worlds, two species, two entirely different forms of life. And the result has been clear: generations of peace!"

"And the cost?"

"What cost? Unitium? Something we don't need? Yes, some of our people have died—too many! But it's a small sacrifice, for galactic peace!"

"How many billions of humans were exterminated by the Omnis—the V—in the Plague War?"

"Our point exactly! How many billions have lived since our successful contact?"

"We defeated the Omnis in the Plague War. We shattered their fleets, and drove them back."

"We have no argument with that."

"And the unitium? You don't wonder about the unitium?"

"Well, of course, we wonder."

"You don't wonder why they're willing to communicate with the enemy—to suspend their advance for a hundred years—to gain an endless supply of unitium?"

"Does Legion have the answer?"

"You don't wonder how many billions are going to die, because of your stupid, short-sighted policies? You don't wonder about your children? You don't wonder about the future of our own species? Don't you think it worth defending? How about the next generation? What are you willing to them? Slavery? How about your own children? Do you have children?"

"We…we have no children."

"I'm sorry. I forgot. Diplomats don't have children. Such emotions might confuse you." We knew Outworlder diplomats serving the System were castrated upon entry into the service.

"We are not ashamed of our condition. It was completely voluntary. A diplomat cannot afford to have a biased viewpoint. We deal with important questions."

"Important questions? Do you believe slavery is preferable to death? Do you believe freedom from slavery is worth risking your life? No, let's change the question—is your life more important than your children's? What's the logical response to that? How about a choice of life—this generation or the next. One gets to live, one gets to die. What's your choice?"

"Legion doesn't understand."

"No, it's you who don't understand! You despise the Legion because our objectives are different. You're focused on the present. We look at the future. We're not fighting for us—we knew we're all doomed, every last one of us. We're fighting for our descendants, for the unborn. I don't want children of mine living as slaves to the Omnis. If it was up to you and the System, they would."

"It's making assumptions about the Variants without evidence."

"Two billion dead. Is that enough evidence? My proven assumption is that they want us all dead."

"We've learned so much about them! They're learning about us, too! With understanding comes tolerance."

"The only thing they want to learn about us is how to kill us most efficiently. And I'm sure you've been a great help to them."

"It's too bad Legion's government does not agree with that."

"What do you mean by that?"

"We mean its self-righteous braying arises from ignorance. It's easy to criticize the System, isn't it? Blame it all on the Systies! Does it think its own government was ignorant of what we were doing?"