Slave of the Legion (3 page)

It was one of the darkest chapters in the Legion's history. Now I remembered what they had said: There were so many A-suits buried in the killing fields that the cenite poisoned the soil, and nothing would grow there.

"The Systies took Uldo," Snow Leopard said, "and enslaved the population and imported their own races and made their own world here. Then—a few weeks ago—the Omnis came, just the way they always do, dropping from the skies like fireflies. Millions of them. Soon they were swarming over Uldo, and the Systies knew they had lost another world. That's when they made the political decision to call in the Legion."

Snow Leopard looked up again, to the flickering shadows on the ceiling. "Such irony. The Legion returns to Uldo, allied with the System, to fight the O's." He looked vaguely around. "The Legion has decided the O's are to be stopped here, on Uldo. They've never been stopped, but we're going to stop them, here. We're giving it all we've got. And we'll never leave. Uldo's earth is soaked in Legion blood. This is our home, gang. Our home."

The rest of the squad was loading up the aircar with supplies. I saw a few people I didn't know. It looked like we were going somewhere.

"So what's the mission, One?" Dragon asked. I was freezing. I took another sip of hot dox.

Snow Leopard put down his cup. "The mission, right. There's a big offensive underway, right into the O's axis of advance. We've got a recon—a very important recon. We are to accompany advance elements of the Twelfth to the forward battle area and then jump off, making our way surreptitiously to the target. It's deep in Omni territory."

"And the target?" Dragon asked.

"It's an Omni installation," Snow Leopard replied. "Take a look." He opened a doc case and pulled out some reconsat shots. The prints showed what looked like a vast earthen mound, roughly circular, rising from a dark smoky plain. Little plumes of smoke seeped from the mound, caught in a light breeze. Faint trails could be seen running around the outside.

"What is it?" Tara asked.

"Nobody knows," Snow Leopard replied. "We only know it was built by the O's. They're building these all over the planet. After they secure an area, they build one of these…mounds."

"So it's an Omni base?"

"We're not sure. The funny thing is, there's not a lot of activity at the mounds. We don't see many O's around these structures. Only a few. What we do see are human captives—lots of them, marching into the entrances. Those dark openings at the bottom there. Here, here's a good shot." He passed us another print. A long, ragged line of hopeless refugees, hunched over against a cold wind, heading for the Mound. Men, women, children. Toddlers, walking bravely beside their parents. Babies, in their mothers' arms.

"Where are the O's?"

"That's it—there aren't any. It's psypower. The O's want them in the mounds—they have to go."

I didn't want to see any more. I passed the print on to Tara. Her face was cold and hard.

"What do the O's do with them?"

"That's our mission. Determine what goes on in the mounds. Once we report back, the Legion will decide what to do."

"The Legion should attack right now! Why the delay?"

"There's a lot of things the Legion should do. But we've got a war to fight, too. We've got to take on the O's face to face and defeat them and push them back. The offensive is starting right now. If we can't do that, there's no sense in dropping a heavy force in behind the lines to face who knows what. No, there has to be a recon first. By the time we're through, it should also be clear if we can defeat the O's or not. If we can, there should be some resources freed up to target the mounds, if that's what has to be done. If we can't, it won't matter."

We were interrupted by a noisy outburst from the shadows.

"Does not."

"Does so."

"Does not!"

"Dwarf!"

"Mutant!" Psycho and Redhawk were discussing the move over by the aircar. Valkyrie intervened.

"Blackout! What is this, a playschool? Shut down, both of you!" Valkyrie was pale and angry. The black Legion cross on her forehead added a little edge. She was a stunningly lovely blonde vision. She had been mine, once, but she didn't belong to anybody now—except maybe the Legion.

"Does not!"

"Does so!"

"Shut down, creeps!"

Snow Leopard sighed, and turned back to us. "Dragon, you know I wanted you as our Two, but you were away. Eleven is our new Two."

"Valkyrie?" Eight could hardly believe it. Neither could I.

"She's a good trooper. Dependable—and fearless."

"Crazy, you mean."

"She's got the experience. She was Two for Gamma. And you weren't here. So she's it."

"Tenners."

"Now—do you all know why Tamaling is here?"

"That's a twelve, One," I said. "We don't know—except she has orders."

"I don't know either," Tara said, "and I'm more than a little curious."

"All right," Snow Leopard said. "I've briefed Valkyrie. I see no need for everyone in the squad to know this, but I'll brief the four of you." Snow Leopard looked up at Gildron, who was staring at him intently. "Does he understand anything I'm saying?"

"Gildron understands much," Tara replied, "especially kindness, and hostility. He responds appropriately to both."

"Wonderful," Snow Leopard said. "All right, here it is. I received orders from Xcom late yesterday—after the Legion spoke with you, Tamaling."

"Call me Cinta, please."

"Cinta—fine. The orders came direct from Starcom. High-level stuff, and most unusual. They say you are a very powerful psycher, and are to accompany us on our mission to the Mound. They believe your psychic abilities may prove useful."

"Do they!"

"Yes. Are you a psycher?"

"Yes. That's correct."

"Really. What am I thinking?"

"You're thinking you'd like to pull my panties down and lick my—ah…"

"All right! Close enough!" Snow Leopard blushed, his face suddenly turning scarlet. Dragon couldn't help laughing. "I'm sorry," Snow Leopard said. "Sorry."

"It's all right," Tara said. "I get a lot of that."

"Are you in good physical shape?" Snow Leopard asked.

"Yes. I am."

"Ever wear an A-suit?"

"I've worn Legion and Systie armor."

"Good. Now how about your friend—what's his name?"

"Gildron."

"What can he do?"

"He's strong—and faithful. He'll do whatever I ask."

"Why is he here? I can hardly believe they gave him orders."

"They gave him orders because I insisted on it. When they told me I was to link up with your squad, I decided I wanted him with me."

"You insisted on it." Snow Leopard just stared at her. It did not add up.

"That's right." Tara stared back.

Snow Leopard looked at her for a long time, then shifted his glance to Gildron. "He'll be a liability."

"He'll be an asset!"

"They don't make A-suits that big. And he'll need an A-suit where we're going."

"You'll find him useful—with or without an A-suit."

Snow Leopard stared at the man-ape thoughtfully.

"All right," Snow Leopard said. "But he is to obey my commands—not yours. And if he causes the slightest problem, we leave him behind. And if you object to that, we leave you behind. Understand?"

"Understood," Tara said. "He won't give you any trouble. He's quiet, and strong. You'll like him." Gildron suddenly reached out an arm and put a massive hand on Snow Leopard's shoulder, staring at him intently.

"See?" Tara smiled in delight. "He likes you! Good, Gildron, good!"

"Kangju," Gildron said. I swear, he almost smiled.

"Fine," Snow Leopard said. "All right—squad meeting!" He shouted it. The others drifted over. Everyone was bundled up in camfaxed coldcoats.

"How did it go, guys?" Valkyrie asked. I had almost forgotten her cold, unearthly beauty—hair of spun gold, enchanting emerald eyes. My heart still speeded up whenever she came close to me. Once she had been all I wanted from life. But that was over now.

"Katag? Nothing to it," Dragon responded. I looked over at him. Merlin laughed.

"Thinker doesn't seem to share your opinion, Dragon," Merlin said.

"How was it, Priestess?" Scrapper asked.

"We're back," Priestess said. "That's what's important."

"Missed you, Priestess," Psycho said brightly.

"All right, listen up," Snow Leopard said. "This is Cinta—and Gildron. They are to accompany us on the mission. Most of you remember them from Mongera. They're not formally part of the squad, but for all practical purposes they're your squadies. Get to know them. The big guy doesn't talk much. I understand he's got a good heart, but a bad temper—so don't give him any grief, Psycho."

"Would I do that?"

"It's your funeral. Thinker, Dragon, Priestess, we've got two new bodies. We didn't know if you'd be returning or not. We're one over strength now you're back. Three over, if we count Cinta and Gildron. Beta Thirteen—Twister, and Beta Fourteen—Speedy, these are our missing squadies, Three, Eight and Nine. You'll learn the warnames soon enough."

They nodded at us, uneasily. Beta Thirteen, Twister, was a tall, gangling, awkward colt of a girl, with curly dark red hair and a face full of freckles. A schoolgirl, dressed in camfax. Terrific. Beta Fourteen, Speedy, was a pale, intense young trooper with dark hair and watery brown eyes. It was hard, accepting new people into the squad. It meant that the old people were gone, forever—Coolhand and Warhound and Ironman. They were tiny faces on my knuckles, and phantoms in my mind. How could we not resent replacements for our dead?

"Hi," I said. "Welcome. It's a good squad."

"You'll like it," Dragon said.

"It's our home," Priestess added, "and it's good to be back."

"All right, that's it. Get the car loaded," Snow Leopard said. The squad broke up slowly. Dragon stayed beside me.

"Another female," he said quietly. "That makes four. Five, if you count Cinta. They may as well call this the mammary squad."

"Come on, Dragon, you love 'em."

"Yeah, it's the latest concept—they want us to be able to reproduce ourselves, instead of asking for replacements."

"You'll get over it."

"I doubt it. Let's check out these new people. Do you think that girl is brain-damaged?"

"Merlin—come here," I said.

"Thinker, what's the sit?" Merlin seemed completely happy. He had made his decision, just as we all had, throwing it all away for the Legion. But Merlin had thrown away a lot more than we had. He might have been a brilliant scientist, but now he was just a hired gun.

"What's your informed scientific opinion on this new body, the male, Fourteen—what's his name—Speedy?"

"He seems fairly stable, Thinker. Looks to be a dependable type, from what I've seen so far."

"How about the girl?"

"Kind of nervous. Maybe a little shaky. Sort of like I used to be."

"Used to be?" I laughed. "All right, Merlin, used to be."

###

"Just stay there, I'll be right back." Snow Leopard had to see somebody about our mission. We were at Recon Control, a squadmod just off one of the main corridors of the milbase. It was cool and clean inside. Scores of troopers sat before comscreens whispering into their mikes or silently monitoring the activity. A large wall screen showed the Legion offensive already underway, and it was sparkling with antis and tacstars. Another large screen showed the recon missions, all deep inside Omni-occupied territory.

"Good duty here," Valkyrie said, "you don't even get your boots dirty."

"I know this work," Merlin said. "You sip dox and offer advice to people who are dying. It's nice work if you like it." Snow Leopard was talking with an officer at the command desk, determining our fate.

"Scope out that opmap, guys," I said. "See if you can find Corin." Corin was our jump-off point, a city that had been in the path of the Omni advance. Now it was in the path of the Legion advance, and the future did not look good for that particular city.

"Look at all those units!" Merlin exclaimed. "Those are regiments of the Twenty-Second—look! The Tenth, the Twelfth, the Sixty-Eighth, the Fifty-First! Deadman!"

"Corin is over there," Valkyrie pointed. "On the left, by that river." I could see it—our own regiment, the 12th, was closing on it. Antimats winked and faded on the screen.

"Do you think we'll win?" Valkyrie asked, gazing blankly at the screens.

"We're ready for them," Merlin said confidently. "I don't see how they can counter the new generation of weapons, weapons designed specifically to kill O's. The O's are very powerful because of their psypower. But they're slow to change. We can counter the psypower now. And look at their tactics—they don't have any! They've never had tactics! It's just individual O's, wandering around killing anything that moves."

"I've never understood that."

"Don't feel alone. I tell you, if the O's ever really get organized, we'll be in terminal trouble!"

"Control, our mission has been compromised!" A voice crackled with static from a nearby console.

"Red Opal, Control—please provide details." The Mission Coordinator hunched over the d-screen. He looked like a brand new recruit.

There was silence from the console. The trooper entered some data into the system.

"We're under attack!" The console crackled again. I could hear the shriek of tacstars in the background.

"Red Opal, Control. Do you require extraction?" There was no response. Only silence, from Red Opal.

"Let's go." Snow Leopard had finished his business.

"Tenners." I wondered about Red Opal, but I knew we'd never learn the ending. We straggled out of the squadmod and into the cold, dark corridor. Our aircar was waiting, assault doors open. The whole squad was there. We climbed in, and I found a seat next to the new girl, Beta Thirteen.

"Everything tenners?" I asked her.

"Oh! Um, fine…" she seemed startled by my question. She was blushing, I suddenly realized, and avoiding my eyes. Great, I thought, she can't even talk. Hope she can shoot, at least. The aircar doors slammed shut and we shot forward along the shadowy earthen corridors of Uldo Milbase, emergency lights glaring from the dripping ceilings, our aircar trailing a shock wave of icy, muddy spray. Redhawk hit the sounds and the latest ionic music blasted through the car.