Secret of the Legion (39 page)

"Five, Ten. Are you there? Acknowledge."

Silence. Only the hiss of deceptors on the net and the crackling of the flames, all around him.

"Five, Ten. I'm here to evac you. Answer, damn it!"

"Screw you, O. Come and get me!" The answer adrenalized Redhawk. Alive! Psycho was alive, and he thought Redhawk was an O, toying with his mind.

"Psycho, it's me! If I was an O, your psybloc would have activated! Open the damn door! We're evacing Beta! The mission is over!"

"Burn in Hell!" It was an evil hiss. Psycho did not believe him!

"Open the door, you demented little blond dwarf! Retard! Runt! Mutant! What have I got to do to activate your tiny brain? Open up or I'll kick your ass!"

"Ten? Is it really you?"

"Scut! You're just as slow as ever! Open the goddamn door!"

"I can't! It's welded shut!"

"Blast it open!"

"Aw right, stand back!"

The door came down in a blinding flash, glowing around the edges, and promptly fell into the ragged hole in the corridor floor, sweeping the dead Systie soldier off the lip and crashing down to the next level. Redhawk stepped carefully around the hole and into the open doorway. As the smoke slowly cleared he could see the top half of a Legion A-suit helmet, behind an E, peering over a massive, solid metal table.

"Laser sighting! We are targeted!" Redhawk's Persist warned him. A tiny laser spot was roaming lazily over Redhawk's armor.

"Quit targeting me, Psycho! It's me—Redhawk. I'm here to evacuate you. You and the rest of Beta. The mission's over! Come on. We've got to fight our way out. This place is crawling with crazies."

"Redhawk! Scut! I can hardly believe it! What the hell are you doing here?" Psycho lowered his E. He was sitting on the deck with an open medpak and an SG across his lap, surrounded by grenades. His right leg had been shot off above the knee. The bloody stump was crudely plastered with medgel and sealant. Psycho was clearly flying on mags. His face was pale and sweaty behind the faceplate. Redhawk reached down and hauled Psycho up by the shoulders.

"Come on, Psycho. We're going for a little walk. Did you ever participate in one of those three-legged races when you were a kid?"

"Yeah, but I cheated." Psycho gritted his teeth. He had one arm around Redhawk's shoulder, and Redhawk had him around the waist.

"Cheating is all right," Redhawk replied. "We're doing a little cheating ourselves." We're cheating time, he thought. We're cheating the Gods. And they hobbled out the door awkwardly, stepping around the hole in the corridor deck. Redhawk had his E pointed ahead of them and he was 100 percent alert. He knew they had a long way to go, and anything could happen. But he had Beta Five now—and he wasn't letting go for anything.

***

The O launched the starmass just as Valkyrie and I fired auto canister x. The corridor boomed, transformed instantly into a raging blast of starmass, a mighty firestorm from the face of a star. It hit us like a great fist and blew me right off my feet. I ricocheted along the deck and finally stopped against a wall. I forced myself up. I was inside the firestorm, totally encased in deadly, swirling plasma. I raised my E and fired again, blindly, auto canister. Time was gone—we had no time!

"NOVA WARNING!" Sweety shouted in my ears. "TOLERANCES EXCEEDED! Turn and run, Three—NOW!"

I ignored her. We couldn't run. Priestess and Scrapper were on the other side of that wall, and time was running out.

"Fire, Valkyrie—fire!" I shouted, desperate that she would hear me. I knew her own Persist would be urging retreat, and I prayed to Deadman that she would ignore it. If we ran, Priestess and Scrapper would die. It was that simple.

The starmass flickered and faded, swirling over the walls, running along the deck to reveal Valkyrie, crouching in the center of the corridor on one knee, still firing her E. Her armor was white-hot, burning like a torch.

"Attack!" I staggered past her, firing. She got up jerkily and walked forward by my side, still firing. Down corridor it was flickering violet, crackling like a dying star. The air buzzed with thousands of explosive canister darts, a deadly hail that put a chill to my flesh. It was all exploding, hundreds of violent flashes shooting off phospho-white tracers to bounce off the walls and ceiling, ricocheting everywhere.

The O was torn to shreds, armor pitted and shattered, the remnants of the force field still flickering. Valkyrie put another burst into a gory mess that looked like its head. I turned my E to the wall and fired auto xmax. It exploded in our faces, riddling our armor, almost knocking us down. I didn't care.

"One, Three, I'm…" it was me, calling out to One on Black Jade's freq. The wall was gone. I stepped through the glowing hole, E up. Valkyrie was right behind me. We were in one of the O's evil corridors, a twisted dark coiled ceiling overhead, lined with alien devices.

"Beta, One! Split up and get that ship!" Static, fading, and then Snow Leopard's voice returned. "…the upper levels! Get out of here, and get to…"

"Three, your position is correct," Sweety informed me. This was it. We had broken through; we were in the right corridor!

"Run!" Valkyrie said, charging past me. I ran. She was just in front. I was suddenly shaking uncontrollably. I knew this was it. We were going to succeed or fail in the next few marks.

"Look out!" someone screamed.

"Oh my God! Help! Help!" It was Scrapper, shrieking, the tacnet roaring with static. I was running blindly just behind Valkyrie. Up ahead, the corridor flashed and glowed, white-hot. Starmass!

"Run! I'm coming!" It was Priestess, calling out to Scrapper. Priestess! She was running into the starmass up ahead somewhere, running right in to rescue Scrapper. My guts were churning.

"Priestess!" It was my voice, but I hadn't said it. "Priestess! Where are you?" Beta Three, lost and desperate. I had been nowhere near her. But I was now!

A scream—terrified, primal, piercing me like a cold knife. Valkyrie and I ran into the starmass. It whirled around us violently, blinding us with an impossible glare. The warning lights in my helmet popped to red, Sweety was shouting in my ears. I let go of the E and it snapped back to my chest and I stretched out my arms and one hand glanced off Valkyrie, to my left. We staggered forward, leaning into the starmass against every human instinct, ignoring our frantic Persists.

"I'm dying…" someone said, a feeble protest in a mighty ocean of static. My adrenalin exploded, again.

"I'm coming!" I shouted. "Priestess, I'm coming!"

"TOLERANCES EXCEEDED! YOUR ARMOR IS FUSING, THREE! RECOMMEND RETREAT!" We continued into the starmass, ignoring the warnings. I could feel Valkyrie's armored fingertips with mine. The armored plex on my faceplate was beginning to bubble. Black bubbles, slowly forming. I had seen that on the faceplates of dead troopers, cooked by starmass. Death, right there!

And suddenly Valkyrie was gone.

"I'm down, Thinker! Someone…" I whirled around wildly, striking out with my arms, completely blind in the whirling starmass. One hand bounced off something hard.

"Get up! Get up!" I had a vague glimpse of two armored figures moving in the flames. I reached out an arm and latched on to the closest one.

"This way!" I urged them. The starmass faded abruptly, whirling around our legs, hissing, then licking along the deck. We were walking in a brilliant, fiery river. Just to my left were two troopers in glowing, smoky armor, staggering forward. Valkyrie and…I had the other one by a wrist. I strained to make out the designation on the smoky helmet—B12. It was Beta Twelve! Scrapper! Alive!

Ahead a brilliant violet light crackled. The starmass lazily spilled from the light, licking along the deck. As my dazzled eyes adjusted to the glare I could see it clearly. A gigantic Omni, fully armored and shielded, standing in the corridor clutching a formidable blackened weapon that was dripping starmass. The psybloc units on our helmets were spitting sparks. The force field was blinding, but just behind the O I could see something, faintly visible as the starmass faded. An A-suit, white-hot, flaming, down, moving, one arm grasping helplessly at the air. The O noticed it at the same time, swung the weapon around, then hesitated…it saw us!

Valkyrie and I fired at the same instant. Just as the starmass hit us, I saw the prone figure by the O fire too—right up into the O's force field at point blank range.

The starmass knocked me flat. I was screaming, raging, convulsed, adrenalized, foaming at the mouth, totally insane. I clawed my way to my feet, charging right into the blast. I had released my hold on the E—I would not take a chance on hitting Priestess.

I ran right into a crackling purple mass, and bounced off it—the O! I got up again, flailing wildly at the deck. Priestess! Priestess! Where are you! Where the hell are you!

Another burst of starmass hit me from behind, knocking me head over heels along the corridor. I staggered to my feet and the starmass was everywhere, swirling all around me.

And for an instant, just an instant, a glowing A-suit appeared, floating in the starmass.

"Priestess! It's Thinker!" I lunged at her, and my armored fingers scratched at her A-suit. Priestess shrieked in agony, burning alive. Her eyes were wide in shock, through a faceplate rippling with black bubbles. Her A-suit was burning, flaming like a meteor, melting, spitting off globules of white-hot cenite. Starmass blazed like the heart of a sun, a raging holocaust, a river of destruction all around us. She reached out both arms for me, flaming metal arms. I ran for her, I almost had her but a blast of starmass caught her in the chest, blowing her away from me like a fleck of glowing ash. She screamed again as she saw I was not going to reach her.

"Thinker! Thinker! Help me! Help me! Help me!" The starmass overwhelmed us, and I could see her no more. She was gone!

"No!" Convulsed, I ran for her blind, half swimming in that raging river of absolute destruction. The starmass knocked me off my feet again. I fought it with a blind fanatic total will, lurching to my feet like a dying biogen, using the last fraction of energy in every muscle to combat the A-suit's rapidly failing hydraulic system. I staggered forward, a blind robot walking through Hell intent on its imprinted task, that and nothing else, Beta Nine, Beta Nine, Beta Nine, Beta Nine…I was in Hell. I stretched out my arms and they locked there, the hydro fluid boiling, and I rocked forward, crashing from foot to foot, a human scythe encased in a star, the flames burning my faceplate black mils from my eyeballs, the temperature rising to intolerable levels inside the suit, my flesh scorching, extreme pain rushing over my tortured body. I prayed for a merciful death, but I did not stop my fevered search.

I stumbled over something and went down hard. I considered not getting up again, but only for an instant. The starmass was still raging, a white-hot river rushing over me. I lashed out with the last of my strength, forcing the arms and legs of the A-suit to bend. One hand hit something hard, and my armored fingers closed around it. It was the locking mechanism for a lifeline, set in the chestplate of an A-suit, and I'll swear till the day I die it wasn't my hand that found it. It was the hand of God.

I pulled with all I had. I struggled to my feet and pulled, and I knew I had ahold of an A-suit, and there was nothing in Hell or Heaven that was going to force me to release my grip. I dragged that A-suit after me like a crippled crab and the starmass faded and swirled down around us, a falling river, finally licking feebly along the deck, smoking, spent. The cenite walls and ceiling glowed, melting, globs of metal dripping like magma. I collapsed next to the other A-suit, one hand still gripping the locking mechanism. Our armor was white-hot, still burning. My faceplate was blistered black. I could hardly see. I pulled her to me. It had to be Priestess! She was not moving. Her faceplate was blasted black, the limbs of the A- suit were stiff and locked, just like rigor mortis. I sat there exhausted, clutching her to me. If I had died right then, I think I would have been happy.

Movement—down corridor. I could barely make it out. An evil, violet glow. It was coming closer. Now it was clear. The O, untouched, secure in its force field, its image wavering behind virtually impenetrable layers of wildly swirling vac fields. The O approached, raising its weapon once again to finish us off.

I clutched Priestess closer and raised my E with my free hand. There was a flicker of movement behind the O. Valkyrie, A-suit glowing, rushing at the O like a mad dog. An angel, a flaming angel, and her E was the sword of God.

Virtually impenetrable—burn in Hell, O! I fired, auto canister x. Valkyrie fired at the same instant. So did the O. The starmass erupted again. It rushed over us, irresistible and final. I kept one arm locked around Priestess, a cenite vise. With the other I continued firing in the general direction of the O, finger locked on the trigger, the E bucking and kicking wildly. I prayed Sweety would guide the rounds away from Valkyrie. I could hear the canister darts buzzing even above the roar of the starmass. I didn't even have the energy to stand up. I sat there with Priestess in the starmass, cooking.

And suddenly the flames were gone, fading again, burning along the deck, and I saw the O. Even through my blistered faceplate I could see it, collapsed, stricken, half on the deck and half against a corridor wall. The force field was spitting and crackling and fading, the armor glowing white, smoking, one great arm outstretched, long fingers clawing at nothing. Yes! The field was down! Valkyrie approached from the other side, a flaming A-suit, a vision from Hell firing laser, lovely bright golden bursts slicing the O like rotten meat. I forced myself to my knees and slammed the E against my shoulder and fired auto xmax and the O erupted as the x hit it, exploding outwards, blasted to bits, torn to shreds, spraying evil green blood over us all. Scrapper was behind Valkyrie, another glowing A-suit staggering forward, raising her E, firing x, once, then falling to her knees, exhausted. The O was dead.

I turned back to Priestess immediately. She was lying on her back in a little trickle of fire that was licking along the deck. I knelt by her side awkwardly, fighting the failing hydraulics, one armored arm behind her shoulders, forcing her to a sitting position. Her armor was still glowing, smoking heavily. The faceplate was cooked. The arms and legs were stiff. I pressed my faceplate against hers. It was hopeless, I could see nothing. I broke down and cried like a baby, embracing my lost love, faceplate to faceplate, two glowing, burning A-suits, gently rocking back and forth. We were together at last. Together in Hell. My mad odyssey was over, and I was too terrified to investigate further. What if she were dead? What would I do if she were dead?