Secret of the Legion (32 page)

A pack of large and formidable-looking predators trailed our column through the chaotic campsite, bilegged, vaguely reptilian creatures with razor-like beaks lined with sharp teeth, and two long grasping arms equipped with barbs. They made a few passes at the rear of our column, but backed off when they ran into our cold knives.

"Stay together—knives on the outside!" Quite a few of us still had knives. The O's did not seem to regard them as weapons. I still had my Legion combat knife, a massive, brutally utilitarian blade.

"Up ahead," Dragon warned us. It loomed out of a cold mist like a mirage, then solidified as we approached. It was a line of tall, massive angular beams of dark metal, thrusting up to the sky like a megalithic, iron-age tribute to some great mad God. As we approached, the gigantic size of these metal columns became frighteningly clear. They were tremendous beams of rusting metal, possibly steel, thrust deep into the earth, disappearing into the cloudy sky. I could just barely make out a crossbeam overhead.

We were to pass between two of the beams. Everyone from our ship was converging on this great entrance, and other creatures were appearing as well. We left the campsite behind us. This was our gate. Armored O's lounged around it, armed with energy weapons. It appeared that we would soon discover our fate.

It was raining lightly as we sloshed through that awful gate. The massive columns were covered in rust. The O's ignored us, but our hearts were thumping as we passed by them. Their very presence made it hard to breathe.

Another seemingly endless wasteland stretched away before us. We kept marching. It was cold, and it seemed to be getting darker—the sky was black with clouds.

A small group of O's appeared, herding a large flock of outlandish birdlike creatures with long thin legs and necks and plump, fuzzy little bodies. The O's blasted us with psypower and left us whimpering in the mud.

We got up after they passed, and continued the march. I had killed O's, I thought, in a better world than this. It was a comforting memory.

***

It slowly appeared out of the dark, another great structure, glowing mysteriously. As we grew closer we saw more mighty vertical steel beams, set with brightly burning torches. The area was teeming with O's and alien creatures. It was a swirling, chaotic circus of frantic movement. As we approached, squads of O's in billowing dark cloaks ran out of the mist, paralyzing us with terror and forcing us into a run. All our columns were joining up now, coming together in one gigantic mass of bodies.

We trotted past the flaming beams, caught up in the mob, herded by our dark-robed O's toward a misty mass of lights, the brightest thing I had seen in that dark world. We were in a vast, crowded field facing a slightly elevated steel platform crowded with O's and defended by a strong line of O troopers in full armor, equipped with energy weapons. The stage was brightly lit with harsh torches spitting sulfurous fumes into the evil night. A great tent roof of silky material had been set up over the platform to ward off the rain. I looked far above it and saw a gossamer webbing of shredded cloth, hanging limply from a horizontal beam—the original roof had disintegrated, and they had set up their own shelter below.

Jostled and frantic and cringing from the O's terrifying psypower, I tried to comprehend what was up on stage. The torches were smoking heavily, and the figures of the O's appeared indistinctly, lost in the fumes. I could make out a central cluster of O's that seemed to be the focus of attention. One particular O loomed above the others, clad all in black, not even moving, its long arms folded strangely over its concave chest like some kind of giant exoseg, its cold split face thrust forward aggressively as if seeking something to kill. The others clustered around it anxiously, shifting positions, looking around nervously, shrieking commands or epithets, gesturing with long spidery arms. But it stood there like a rock, motionless.

The damned rain wasn't going to quit. As I watched the activity around us, I began to understand what was happening. A small delegation of O's approached the stage, leading the group of large humanoids we had seen on our march, the bunch with the huge bodies and small heads. One of the O's made a little speech, hissing and shrieking, complete with a lot of arm waving. I knew he wasn't really speaking—he was telepathing, but he was making a lot of noise as well. The gang up on stage watched passively, consulted among themselves briefly, and then dismissed the petitioner. The unfortunate captives were then led away by the O's to an unknown fate.

"Dragon," I said. "This isn't what I thought."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought we'd been captured by the O's—by their central authority. But this bunch that captured us—I think they operate on their own. And this is the central authority, here. They're presenting us, as a tribute."

"You think so?"

"I think so."

"If you're right, it's not the most promising scenario to negotiate our release, I'll give you that."

A babble of alien voices arose all around us. Another group of creatures was being led toward the stage. Damn, I thought, we have truly had it. Bitter black rain continued to run down my face, stinging my eyes. The torches splattered sparks and smoked heavily. We were being jostled to and fro by masses of terrified alien captives. It's no wonder the O's are migrating into our universe, I thought. They probably hate this place. Who wouldn't? A burnt-out cinder of a planetoid, nothing but rock and mud and rain, circling a dark sun, billions of light years from anything. And that's probably it, this is probably their ultimate ruler, a mad emperor standing under a wet, flapping tent, in the ruins of a once-mighty civilization, unable even to repair the roof, looking out over the remnants of his dying realm with hatred and resentment—and, probably, fear.

My eyes were drawn to the figure of the dark emperor. He had moved. One of the O's was telepathing from down below, waving his arms before a group of stolid, shaggy captives. The emperor made a quick gesture, and a blast of flame suddenly engulfed the O in mid-speech. One of the O guards had fired. The speaker erupted, his shrieks drowned out by the roar of the flames that were consuming him as he ran around blindly, then collapsed, spewing sparks, his long arms outstretched, burning fiercely.

"I think your negotiating option is out," I told Dragon grimly.

"I think you're right. Abject grovelling might be more effective."

"That won't be a problem."

The gang that had captured us urged us forward. Hundreds of Legionnaires jostled each other, spurred by icy waves of psypower from the O's. I was having trouble breathing again. One of the dark-robed O's approached the stage. We were certainly the largest group of captives there—the mad emperor would probably love it.

We couldn't understand the O's telepathic speech, but it was evidently successful, because our captor left the emperor's presence alive, along with the rest of us. We were led along a muddy path lined with torches, urged on by the O's. We came to another pair of mighty vertical steel beams, guarded by a heavy force of armored O's. We were herded between the beams, urgently. The stink of ozone was in the air.

We headed down a slope slick with mud. It was raining again, and all we could see was more barren land, fading into the rain and mists. The O's had remained behind. We were on our own. There was no further compelling urge to go on. The psyching was over. It was cold and wet and generally miserable.

"Element leaders, front and center!" I shouted. "Conference!"

It came leaping out of the dark and landed right on my chest, knocking me to the ground, ripping frantically at one shoulder with its teeth, tearing at my litesuit with its barbed arms. I rammed my combat knife up, right into its body, just as Dragon buried his knife in its throat. It screeched, thrashed around and bounded away into the dark on thick legs. I got up, stunned. Thank Deadman for the litesuit! The creature had not been able to cut through the spun cenite.

"We're under attack!" Dark forms were dashing out of the shadows into our ranks.

"Knives on the outside!" Our troopers reacted quickly, swarming around the reptilian creatures as they appeared, slashing at them with cold knives.

In moments it was over. We could see the beasts out in the dark, croaking at us, but they seemed reluctant to attack further.

"They're slow learners. That's the same bunch that attacked us earlier, isn't it?"

"Looks like the same species, yes."

"Form defensive positions!" someone was ordering. "Knives out!"

"Element leaders, front!" I shouted again.

We had a tense little conference, looking around nervously. I did not recognize most of the element leaders. These were people who had found themselves in charge of their group by sheer chance of rank.

"Is this all?" I asked. "Surely there's more!"

"There are. There are a lot of people back there who haven't gotten the word yet. Some are busy tending their wounded." It was a Strike Force officer.

"All right, first thing is I want a head count, and I want everyone to reorganize by ship's units, to make it easier. I want the Strike Force to have all knives and flashes, if we've got a shortage—and I want an immediate defense and perimeter patrol. Work it out. I want reports of our casualties, and all medics working on the wounded. Med Unit is to do a sitrep to me as soon as possible. I want a master list of all equipment—everything we have—and who has it."

"Done. I'm on it." The Strike Force officer turned, and a hail of rocks pelted us viciously.

"Now what?"

"Scut! Attack! Get those people!"

We charged out into the darkness, shouting fiercely and waving our knives, probing the night with our flashes. I caught a glimpse of several hairy bipeds with long arms and ape-like faces, snarling at us, hustling away into the dark.

We stopped, breathing heavily, splattered with mud, blinking in the acid rain. The grav was a bitch. We hadn't laid a hand on them. They appeared to be gone.

"Re-form! I want a defensive perimeter. It's getting darker. I don't know how long this night is going to last. Get some fires going."

"What do we burn?"

"You tell me. Get busy!"

"Tenners!"

"It is getting darker," Dragon said, looking out at the gloom. "I think you're right. We'd better stay put until we can see again. Then we can decide what to do. All right, I'm off. I'm going to help with the Strike Force."

"See ya."

***

It was to be a long night, but we did get a perimeter organized. Whit and I wandered from group to group, taking down designations, when I spotted Valkyrie. She was huddled with a group of wounded around a brightly burning magnesium emergency strobe, tended by a medic. A medpak was pasted around her eyes.

"Valkyrie! What happened?"

"Thinker! You're alive!" She stuck out her arms blindly, flailing the air, and I pulled her to her feet and embraced her. And we were together again, back in our own world, ever so briefly. It felt so good it was almost holy.

"I'm blind, Thinker," she said throatily. "The O's got me right in the faceplate with one of those fireballs. It burnt out the polarizers and I haven't seen a thing since."

"You're not blind any more, Valkyrie. You stay right by my side. I'll be your eyes."

"I fought to the end, Thinker. I fought until I was blind."

"It'll be all right, Valkyrie," Whit said.

"Whit! You're all right?"

"I'm fine."

"Good. Is it getting colder? It seems to me it's getting colder." I could see her breath in the air. It was getting colder, and darker.

***

The next attack came four hours later, in the icy pit of the night. The rain had stopped and the pools of muddy water had all frozen solid. The air was so cold it hurt to breathe it, but most of us had settled down into an uneasy sleep. I was awake with the Strike Force when something whispered past my head and impacted with a dull thud against a sleeping Legionnaire. He came awake screaming and flailing.

"Help! Get it off!" We fell on him, and a black scaled creature flapped away abruptly skyward.

"What the hell!"

"It was on my…throat." He was on his feet now, staggering, bleeding heavily from the throat. Something small and dark shot past us overhead, totally silent. Another scream arose from behind us.

"Get up!"

"Get them off!"

"We're under attack!"

"Get a compress on that…" I began.

"I can't…" the trooper who had been attacked collapsed slowly, into our arms.

"Medic!" We laid him out on the icy ground.

"Deadman, what's that?" I looked out into the dark. Red eyes, a whole constellation of evil red eyes, glaring at us out of the dark, circling us.

"Lights!" Something large and furry darted out of the darkness snarling, sank a muzzle full of teeth into the wounded man's collar, and backed off swiftly, dragging his prey away so quickly we were left standing there with our mouths open.

"Get him!" We charged after him. I threw myself on our casualty, who appeared to be totally paralyzed. My weight caused the dog-like creature to release his grip from his victim and leap at my face. I had an instant's frenzied impression of two glowing red eyes, a mouthful of fangs and a matted fur coat covered with scaly parasites. Then Eight smashed the beast in the face with the shaft of his flash. It yelped, and scampered away. We recovered our casualty and dragged him back inside the perimeter.

"Medic!" I called again. A blood-chilling howling and yapping broke out. We could see red eyes everywhere, surrounding us. Our flashes revealed scores of shaggy, drooling wolf-like predators, their backs covered with dirty winged parasites. And the parasites launched themselves into our ranks, gliding soundlessly to land on our throats. We ripped them off as soon as they landed and battered at them with our flashes and slashed at them with our knives. But everyone who was bitten collapsed, paralyzed. A neat arrangement, I thought. The parasites paralyze the prey, then the wolves come in and drag it away, and they probably share the meal.