Cross of the Legion (17 page)

"Nothing could be easier. Blossom, go to the 'contents' section in the front. I believe there'll be a listing for 'index of alternate star names', or something like that."

"Yes—here it is, Father. Index of Alternate Stellar Designations. Let me find it."

"There'll be an alpha list of stars on the left. Look for Rana. Then on the right will be a list of alternate names—Empire, alternate historical, astronomical, and so on. It should include a listing for K'tac names as well."

I waited, almost trembling in impatience, as Blossom carefully turned the pages. Almost there! And we are going to save millions of ConFree nationals from a grisly death! Women and children—the future of the race!

"Here it is…Rana…the K'tac designation is Toran."

"Toran?"

"Toran."

"Go to Rima," I said.

"Hmm…Rima. Rima. Here we are. K'tac designation is…G'dat."

"G'dat?"

"G'dat."

"G'dat. Chudit, Kudit, Gudit, Gudat, G'dat! That's it! G'dat is Chudit! We've found it!" I leaped back, overjoyed. My skin was crawling. Victory!

"Negative, Three." Sweety whispered in my ears again.

"What?"

"I have compared the Rima System on this chart to all systems in Odura Sector that I mapped during our approach. The planet Rima 2, alt designation G'dat, alt designation Chudit, the second planet of a six-planet system, does not appear on my star charts at the location given on the chart of Sector Kalalan alt designation Sector White, alt designation Sector Odura."

"What do you mean it does not appear? How the hell can it not appear? Come on, Sweety, is this chart all nonsense or what? What have you got at that location?" Panic—blind panic. I could feel it.

"The Whitestar Alliance Navy starchart is exceptionally accurate in all other respects, Three. However, the Rima System has evidently changed since this starchart was compiled."

"How has it changed?" I whispered it. I had a bad feeling about what Sweety was saying—an increasingly bad feeling.

"I can confirm that the Rima System is now a five-planet system, Three. Two inners, one gas giant, two outers. The former Rima 2 is no longer there. There is a very heavy asteroid belt in the orbit it used to occupy. Rima 2 has been destroyed, Three. It's gone."

***

"That's it," the Guardian said. "I knew the name Rima 2 meant something." We were in a reading room, clustered around a massive table. Blossom was looking through a large book with metallic covers.

"Encyclopedia Galactica—Imperial Information Systems. This is from the Eighth Dynasty, Father. Let's see…Rima 2. It gives the starcord. Founded circa 300 PF—that means 'Prior Foundation—'" she looked up at us and smiled—"by human pioneers originally from Sector Exile of the Empire of the Black Sun (EBS). Source: Volume 1, History of the Foundation. Allied with Foundation Alliance forces to counter EBS, and fought in the War of Stellar Liberation to repulse the Empire. Same source. Engaged in interstellar commerce. Source: 2nd Dynasty, official Ministry of Trade Records on interstellar trade. Vacation destination for prosperous Volturan citizens. Source: Voltura—A Handbook, Galactic Travel Solutions, 4th Dynasty. Planet totally destroyed in catastrophic collision with the rogue asteroid Gargantua, in 988 AF—that is, After Foundation. Estimated 950 million dead. Source: Astronomical Companion, 6th Dynasty. That's it. There's nothing further on Rima 2."

"That's it? A whole planet, dismissed in a few sentences?"

"By the Sixth Dynasty," the Guardian said, "we were cut off from the rest of the Galaxy. Star travel was only a memory then. You can see they were piecing the info together from the few available sources. Also…nobody cared."

"The asteroid Gargantua."

"We can look it up."

"Yes—let's do that," I said. "And one other subject to research. A galactic plague that hit the far reaches of the sector sometime prior to Rima 2's demise. It got as far as Rima 2."

"A galactic plague," the Guardian repeated.

"A galactic plague. Think back…to anything you've ever read…about a galactic plague."

"I'm thinking."

Nine hundred and fifty million dead. A blood-red sky. A titanic bang—and everything they did, all of it, blown away in a blinding flash. The end of the world, Judgment Day, for Rima 2. And what had they left behind, for all their struggles, for all their dreams? A few lines in a book? Is that all they're going to say about us? Children of the dust, I thought. We are all children of the dust.

***

"We wish to thank you," I said.

"It's nothing," the Guardian replied. We stood by a huge starite vault door that led to the outer world. The entire library was a closed environment, sealed off from the outside—except when the Guardian wanted to open it. He had shown us the recycling system, primitive but effective, still working after several centuries.

"We'll be back, probably tomorrow," I said. "It'll be awhile before our ship picks us up."

"I'll continue researching the subjects you asked about."

"We'll bring more of those renewable canteens, and dox, and some cases of E-rats."

"We thank you."

"And thanks for this!" Fingers said, raising his gold bar. "If you find any more that are getting in your way, I'll be happy to take them off your hands." Kesan was by his side, gazing up at her hero in rapt adoration.

The Guardian smiled, and pulled at the lever that controlled the vault door. Air hissed around the edges. Our comsets shrieked at us.

"Thinker, Psycho! Recording! Omni ship has landed! Unloaded one O—he's in our sights! Permission to blast him! Call me as soon as you re-estab commo! Scut!"

"Thinker, Redhawk! Recording! Permission to attack! The O ship is back in orbit and I'm set to fire! Give me the word, it's space junk!"

"Psycho, Redhawk, Thinker," I called out as we burst out the door and into bright sunlight. "Hold your fire! Sitrep! Psycho first!" My tacmap filled with data. We slogged up a hill of sand. The door to the library was hidden in the wreckage of a collapsed stone temple. I could see the O now on my tacmap, a glowing red dot. The psybloc on my comtop was flashing. I slipped the safety off my E, set it to canister, and snapped my visor down. No armor—deto!

"Thinker, Psycho! It's about time! The O's messing around near the place you entered. See the zero. Just one O! It knows damn well we're here! No psypower so far! Permission to fire. He's in our sights!"

"Negative, hold your fire! Redhawk, report!"

"I've got the O ship zeroed. It's in low combat orbit. No indication it's aware of my presence. Just one ship, permission to fire!"

"Negative, that's a Twelve, Redhawk, do not fire! Nobody fires unless I give the word—acknowledge!"

"Tenners. Deadman!"

"Ten. Don't wait too long!"

"I've got the O zeroed," Trigger said. His Manlink was at his shoulder.

"Keep it zeroed, Trigger, but don't fire. Dragon—it's over there. Do you see it?"

"I see it." A glowing red dot on my tacmap, reflected on my visor, icy terror flooding my veins. My whole being was rushing right into that pulsating, bloody dot.

"We're going to have to face it, Dragon." I was having a little trouble breathing.

"Ah…how about we just kill it?"

"No. Don't tempt me. Face to face. You know why it's here."

"Deadman. After you." Dead. We were dead, I was convinced. The O was wandering in the ruins of a gigantic colonnaded building sunk in the sands, not far from the entrance to the library. It seemed to have the word on where to look.

"Trigger, if the O fires at us, blow him apart. Use a tacstar if you have to. Drop it right on top of us."

"Tenners."

"We've got it zeroed, Thinker!" Psycho hissed. I knew he was salivating to kill that O.

We slogged up a mountainous sand dune and down the other side and the O stopped moving.

"It sees us!"

"Wonderful."

The O came in sight from behind a line of massive, ruined columns—an evil violet glow, the force field masking a tall, skeletal figure in burnished dark armor, all blurry behind the field, long spidery arms with joints in the wrong places, holding a weapon across its concave chest. I tried not to look at the split head. Even in armor, it was just too scary. My heart was thumping.

"All right…" I said. "Close enough. Dragon, put down your E."

"Could you repeat that?"

"You heard me. It's not firing. Put the E down." Dragon carefully placed his E on the sand by his boots. I lowered mine as well.

The O looked at us for a frac, then bent over slowly and placed its own weapon on the sands by its feet.

"Psybloc off," I ordered, powering mine off, cringing as I did so. Dragon followed. We were totally in its power now.

The O's force field flickered, faded, and popped off. I could only look at it, stunned.

"Hold your fire," I said. We began walking forward to meet the O. What the hell else could we do? I wanted to turn and run—but I didn't.

We paused, almost within arm's length of the creature. It was frighteningly tall, looming over us ominously, clad in dull black armor. Thank God that massive helmet was covering its awful face.

"Dragon, pass him the printout of that old sector navchart, and our own sector chart. And pass him the print of that entry on Rima 2."

"Tenners." Dragon dug the three documents out of his beltpak and held them out in his gloved fingers. The O reached out one long arm and snatched them up. I could see only death, lurking behind its blackened, split faceplate.

"All right, that's it. Back off—slowly," I said.

"Good idea," Dragon whispered. I was sweating profusely. I could feel the drops, sliding down my temples, dripping off the tip of my nose. The O watched us as we backed away, but made no move to follow. When we recovered our weapons we did not power on the psybloc, and the O kept his field down. When we put the sand dune between us again I breathed a giant sigh of relief. Thank God for Dragon! I certainly couldn't have done that alone. The fellow has ice water in his veins.

"Thanks, Thinker," Dragon said. "That was a little scary. I'm not sure I would have done that without you."

Chapter 10
On the Cross

"That's all of it?" Tara put down the mission report. She was as lovely as ever, but she seemed weary, speaking sparingly and moving slowly. A disorderly collection of printouts littered the conference table before her.

"That's it," I replied. Snow Leopard, Dragon and I faced Tara and another Starcom officer across the table in a small conference room in the CS
Atom's Road
. I did not know the officer. He looked young, but everybody looked young in the Legion. Tara had not introduced us so it was unclear if he was her super or sub. Starcom officers did not normally wear rank insignia. Unopened dox cups were set in front of each of us. We were too nervous to pop them.

"I take full responsibility," Snow Leopard said. "I can assure you Squad Jox uncovered all the information on Rima 2 that could be found in the library of Imperial Padan. The Guardian was most cooperative and was able to come up with quite a lot in addition to the original entry in that encyclopedia. Unfortunately there was only that one reference to the White Death—the list of human and O worlds that had been stricken by the fungus, and an estimated death count on each world. However, Rima 2 was not listed, as the list had been compiled before the plague reached it. And by that time Odura was pretty much cut off from the rest of the galaxy."

"Nothing else?" Tara's companion asked. A pale face, prominent bones, dark eyes.

"That's it. Our pilot sent probes into every dead ship in orbit while he was up there waiting for the squad. Nothing. Upon completion of the mission, the Die Young orbited Voltura—the closest world stricken by the White Death. Much of the planet was covered by the fungus. The remnants of human civilization lay in ruins, and the only higher life form was the fungus. We didn't have time to chat with the Mind, but the stuff is certainly alive. We recovered samples of the substance, and it's undergoing analysis by the lifies."

"The O," Tara interrupted. "Did you pass all of the information to him?"

"We passed everything," I said. "We had three contacts. All it gave us was that one cube we passed you earlier."

"I see," Tara replied, then fell silent. She appeared to be deep in thought.

"It's gone, Tara," I said. "Rima 2 is gone. We failed." I liked to put things in perspective.

"Squad Jox did not fail," Snow Leopard interrupted, glaring at me. "They did all that was possible. The target world had been destroyed. But they identified its former location, and learned all that could be learned. Squad Jox performed its mission flawlessly. If there is to be any blame assigned here, I demand full responsibility."

Tara looked up in annoyance. "Stop talking about responsibility. The mission was successful. The information you've brought us is invaluable. We're just going to have to…change our plans."

"Has there been any progress in countering the White Death?" I asked.

Tara sighed, and looked down at the table. "No. The lifies are still helpless. Last week there was a riot at the starport on Veronica 2. The Legion was evacuating women and children, but only limited numbers could go. The women were fighting for their children, Wester. It degenerated into a riot, then a stampede. Hundreds were injured. Scores of children were killed—trampled and crushed—before the Legion could restore order with vac. It was terrible, Wester—terrible. A Legion world, falling into chaos. The Legion, having to fire vac at women and children. It's a tragedy, Wester. We've got to counter this plague! If we don't, it will destroy ConFree, the System, even the O's…it will destroy humanity. Our worlds will look just like Voltura."

"What can we do?"

"For the moment—nothing. Return to Recon. We're going to do all we can to unlock the secrets of the White Death. Perhaps the samples you brought back will help. In the meantime, we'll keep Recon busy. Thanks for the mission, guys. Don't despair. We'll never stop trying. As for me, I'm being reassigned. Wester, I'll keep in touch with you."

"Where are you being reassigned, Tara?" I asked.

"Quaba 7. Starcom seems to need me there."

"We'll have to tell him about the result," Tara's companion remarked.

"I'll tell him," she responded. "Thank you, Snow Leopard, Dragon, Thinker. Dismissed." We got up and left. I wondered who 'him' was, and how he would react to our report.

***

I pressed at the door chime, again. The notice on the door flashed red at me:
Please Do Not Disturb
. Finally the recording came on.

"Captain Antara Tarantos-Hanna wishes not to be disturbed. Please leave a message at the tone."

"Tara, it's Wester. Open the door. I'm not leaving until I see you."

I waited a bit longer. It was very late at night—probably why she did not want to be disturbed. The door clicked and slid open. It was dark inside. I stepped in. The door slid shut behind me. All the lights were out. A faint, fresh perfume was in the air. It was cool and quiet. I stood there as my eyes adjusted to the dark. Finally I could make out Tara. She was sitting on the floor, long legs folded beneath her, hands in her lap, clad in shorts and a sleeveless top. Her eyes were closed.

I knelt before her, silently. In the dark her face looked almost holy. All the weariness was gone. But I knew there was no escape for her, ever.

"Hello, Wester." It was a whisper. Her eyes remained closed.

"Tara." I hesitated. "I failed you, Tara."

"On the contrary. You've given me exactly what I need. You found Chudit."

"But it's not there any more, Tara."

"A momentary setback, Wester." Still a whisper, eyes closed. As if she was in another world. "Deadman is testing us. We shall not be found wanting. The secret of the White Death is to be found on Chudit—on Rima 2. And we're going to uncover that secret. No matter what the obstacles." She was almost glowing. Little drops of sweat beaded her brow. A tiny speck of hope came alive within me.

"You've rebuilt the
Star of Dindabai
," I whispered. The Star of Dindabai was humanity's first time-drive starship. Using the secrets of the Star, it had torn us a hole in the cosmos, plunging us into an alternate universe, and into the past. Most of Beta owed their lives to that technology, but the
Star of Dindabai
had been subsequently vaporized in a battle with rogue ConFree elements. And the Star, source of all that knowledge, had been destroyed by Gildron, Tara's eternal love, when he had died for us all.

"No, Wester. We certainly considered it. But it was determined building a clone was not justified."

"But you've got the D-neg! You told me you had the D-neg!" The D-neg—exotic matter from Plane Prime—gave us the power to cheat time. Without it, true time travel, into the past, was not possible.

"Yes, Wester. We have the D-neg. But we've learned some things since our return voyage to Uldo. We've done some experimenting. We have learned there are some very…rigid…physical limits…on transporting a living being into the past." Tara sighed, and a peaceful smile appeared. Her eyes were still closed. She looked serene.

"What limits, Tara?" My blood was ice-cold.

"Two hundred years is pushing it. More than that, and your internal organs start to rupture. Don't ask how we found that out. We were lucky with Uldo. It was only a few years back, so it didn't matter that we didn't know about the limits. It seems you can go as far as you want into the future, but only a limited distance into the past. I believe it's Mother Nature's way of telling us we're doing something wrong. Chudit was a hundred thousand years ago. Well beyond the limits."

"So there's no hope."

She continued with that unearthly smile. "As long as my heart continues beating in my body, there is hope. Come closer."

I leaned forward. She reached out to me and her slim fingers wrapped around my hand convulsively and her exotic Assidic eyes snapped open. They were hot and smoky—burning like a volcano.

"If you think this is going to stop me, you still don't know me. I'm not going to stop until the White Death is vanquished, or I'm dead. You once said you were my attack dog. Well, you still are, Wester. And I need you. The Legion is going to stop the plague. And I am the Legion. So are you. Once I'm ready, I'll call you. I'm going to need my attack dog when that day comes. And I know you're not going to rest either, until this is done. I bless you, Wester. In Deadman's name, I bless you." And she made the sign of the Legion, over my face. I knew better than to ask any more questions. Tara was on it. That's all I had to know. I got up and said goodbye.

***

"Pits, Mams, we've secured the target. Should be moving shortly. No response yet from Starguard. Li'l Miss Miss is standing by." The report crackled in my ears. We were downside on Pherdos, A & A, on our way to the rendezvous with
Kiss
. And behind us, a Pherdan town was burning. It was early morning. The velvet sky was full of lovely stars but the town was aflame, lighting up the horizon in a ruddy glow, outlining the skeletons of shattered buildings in stark black relief. The Pherdan base was right on the edge of town and we had taken it out along with the spaceport.

"Dragon, Redhawk, I'm on the way."

"Tenners, we'll be there." A yellow flash lit up the night, followed by a heavy boom from the town. The base was still going off.

"Thinker, Priestess, Dragon—you're rear security. Maintain your zero."

"Tenners."

"Ten." I was in knee-deep swampland by the side of the road. The roadway was slightly elevated from the swamp. It was full of Fleetcom vacheads, males and females, a long line of them, unarmored, visible only as shadows now, headed for evac, courtesy of Recon. They were the crew of the supply ship C.S.
Genie
. The
Genie
had been detained by a Pherdan tacship on some vague charge—probably as a pretext to seize the cargo. The System was disintegrating and the brand-new Pherdan Federation was becoming increasingly erratic. Detaining a ConFree starship was insane, and guaranteed a Legion response. Mams and
Li'l Miss Miss
had just successfully seized the
Genie
in orbit while Pits and
Kiss
had annihilated the downside garrison and liberated the crew.

I stood there in the early morning dark, secure in my A-suit, my E on my hip. Sweety scanned the tacmap for more opposition. We didn't use Holo-X for Systies—that was reserved for the O's. There were not enough units so we had to choose our targets carefully. I didn't care. The mission was proceeding nicely. Lots of dead Pherdans and no Legion casualties. They were clearly unprepared for the consequences of their actions.

As I watched the burning glow on the horizon, the system's double stars began to rise from right behind the burning town, staining the skies an electric greenish-white, a magnificent symphony of color. Off to one side stood a gaunt stone ruin that looked like a cathedral. I recalled reading in the target study that the inhabitants had worshipped a deity before the Systies imposed control many years ago. A lovely skeletal black cathedral was outlined in pink by that glowing horizon. The crew of the
Genie
continued along the road, still only shadow figures. A faint wind moaned lightly.

"Priestess—look."

"I see." She was on the other side of the road, looking back at the holocaust. "It's beautiful."

A ghostly flutter passed over us. It was the
Kiss
, gliding in to the rendezvous. I thanked Deadman for that glorious dawn and thought, again, of the deadly plague sweeping the galaxy. Months had passed since my last talk with Tara. The White Death had hit the System with a vengeance. Chaos ruled everywhere the fungus appeared, System or ConFree. The Legion was dealing with it—even if it only meant dealing with death. A religious revival was sweeping infected ConFree worlds. But for us, it should not have mattered. Recon was kept quite busy doing Deadman's work. What we were doing was good. Tara had said it. The crew of the
Genie
was now free again. But a whole lot of Pherdans were dead. Good seemed to flow from evil, somehow. To free a slave, to rescue a child, to liberate a comrade, you had to kill somebody else. That was the equation. And we were first-class killers.

"Dragon, Redhawk. Commencing loading. We'll be making several trips—Li'l Miss Miss has got to cover Genie."

"Redhawk, Dragon. Tenners. Just do it. We'll cover you."

I settled down in the mud next to the roadway. The double suns were visible now, a brilliant white, an electric green, right behind that old cathedral. Lord, what a view. It was heavenly.

"Priestess, Thinker."

"Yes, Three."

"I'm never going to leave you."

"On the cross, Three. On the cross."

"Tenners." I listened to the music of the stars in my helmet as those two suns rose up. It was truly lovely. But none of it could banish that cold knot in my stomach. We had failed, on Odura. I had failed. Chudit was gone, and Chudit held the secret of the White Death. Millions were dying, millions more were sure to die, of the plague. We were only marking time here, I knew. If the plague could not be stopped, nothing else would matter.

It was like a curse. And it was not going to go away unless we did something.

***

"I have an appointment with Captain Tarantos-Hanna of Galactic Information." I was at what I hoped was the last door between myself and Tara in the inner portals of Hqs, 22nd Legion, on Quaba 7. It had been a long trip, I was just off the ship, and I was tired.

"ID please?" I handed over my ID. He was a very large, exceptionally alert trooper in an A-vest with a handgun at his waist. I knew the E would be under the counter, within easy reach. He waved my ID at a screen, and handed it back. "What's it about?" he asked.

"I have an appointment."

"What's it about?"

"I have no idea. Perhaps you could ask Captain Tarantos-Hanna, if you're so curious." I was in no mood for nonsense.

"She's not a captain," he said, triggering the door. It slid open, and I walked into Tara's inner sanctum. It was a large, airy office, brightened by a full-length armorplex window with a terrific view of the Hqs building and the starport beyond. The sky was darkening. It might rain. A group of people broke away from Tara's conference desk, heading for the door as Tara approached me. She was as lovely as ever, slim and alluring, but she was not smiling.