Cross of the Legion (6 page)

"As mandated in Legion regs for off-planet rescues."

"Exactly."

"It's obviously a trap," Valkyrie said. "The O's control all surviving humans there. They can make them do anything they want, with psypower. Of course it would be technically perfect. They read minds! They want to lure in a Legion rescue force, to kill us."

"There is a high probability that you are correct, Val. As a matter of fact, the Spawn believes chances are eight in ten that this is an Omni deception op. In which case we could, of course, ignore the Nova. Shall we do so?"

Silence, from both squads. Ignore a Nova? No—the Legion doesn't do that. We don't ignore Novas from Legion troopers trapped in enemy territory.

"I take it we're not going to ignore the Nova," Snow Leopard continued. "Now let me tell you a few other things that may affect our planning. There are some rather unusual events occurring on Augusta 6. Events we don't understand. For starters, major Omni fleet units were diverted from other sectors to orbit Augusta 6—about two months after the O's captured the place. Our probes also detected abnormally high shuttle traffic between downside and orbit. Then—recently—the traffic ceased. There's hardly any shuttle activity now, and many of the O ships have departed. Our probes don't survive long, so they can't clarify the sit. But Starcom very much wants an explanation."

Another long silence. There was not even enough data to prompt a question.

"We think these events may have something to do with the Novas. Maybe the O's have got more important things to do than hunt down some Legion survivors. Starcom mentioned that as a possibility."

Snow Leopard stood there, head back, looking us over. "The primary mission is to rescue the Legion unit on Augusta 6. A secondary mission is to report on the stratsit on Augusta 6. The secondary mission is important, but is not to interfere with the first. Squads Jox and Cross are to do covert insertions to the target area, activate rescue bursts if necessary, and stand by for further Novas. Both Phantoms are to stand by to respond to any O reaction and extract all troopers when necessary. Planning brief begins immediately. Squad Ones and Twos, in the capcom. The rest of you, see the ship for data on the target."

Chapter 3
Angels of the Lord

We approached Augusta 6 like space junk, cruising silently along with an asteroid cloud that was passing near the system. We were surely invisible to any sensors, but it never hurts to have a backup. Even if the O's were somehow able to get a reading on us, our two ships would appear to be just a couple of metallic rocks, hurtling along in formation with the rest of the debris. It was a slow way to travel, but we didn't mind—the
Spawn
had gotten us close enough.

"Man, this is like a vacation cruise!" Psycho exclaimed, leaning back in his padded seat, propping his armored boots up against the back of the seat in front of him. We were in A-suits, helmets off, relaxing in our seats, quite comfortable, catching up on our sleep, sipping dox, gazing vacantly at d-screens. It was silent and dark, soft indirect lighting faintly illuminating the cabin. It was moderately roomy, two rows of six seats each divided by an aisle that was a few steps below seating level. The seats were great—comfy enough to stretch out our armored legs and drift away. It was total luxury, for the Legion. Priestess climbed down to the aisle and headed for the spotless toilets in the rear. The Legion was certainly pampering us.

"Oh, miss," Psycho said, "could I have another cup of dox, please?" Priestess said something rude and continued down the aisle.

"Stewardesses are a bit hostile," Psycho remarked. "Otherwise, I can't complain."

"What do you think, Three?" Dragon asked. "It's not like the old days, is it? I'm not sure all this luxury is such a good idea. In an aircar, you knew you were headed for trouble. Here, who knows? We could be going on vacation."

"It's certainly a big change," I admitted. "I'm hoping the most significant change is that nobody's going to be shooting at us when we approach the target."

"They haven't seen us yet, Thinker. Not while we're in the Kiss."

"We're invisible, gang," Redhawk added from the cockpit. "No worries. We'll be pulling away from the asteroid cloud soon, for the run to the planet. There's plenty of Omni traffic in orbit, but they won't see us. Don't worry—we're invisible!"

Invisible, I thought—fine. But once the
Kiss
drops us off on the surface we won't be invisible any more. The odds will be even then, just like in the old days. We'll all be specks of cenite metal in the mud, dodging tacstars. I looked around at our squad. Dragon and Psycho—I knew them well. Both were dependable and fearless. Dragon was the perfect leader. We were in good hands. And Redhawk was the best driver we'd ever had. Priestess would risk certain death to aid her comrades. I'd seen it. But the others were unknown to me. Dragon said they'd all been tested in combat. I was uneasy. I had known everyone in Beta, but Beta was no more. Our regiment, the 12th, had been annihilated by the O's on Uldo.

Five unknowns. Young males, all—Priestess was the only female in the squad. Five kids, on their way to Hell. The Manlink master was a tall, rawboned youth called Trigger. He stared into space, clutching a dox cup in two large hands. His hair was short, a military cut. Dragon said he was fast and accurate, and that's what you need with a Manlink. The Medic was a quiet young Assidic they called Doctor Doom. He had long straight black hair that hung down over his dark slanted eyes. He didn't talk much, Dragon said, but he was there when you needed him. Good enough. That's all anyone could ask of a medic. Flash was dozing in his seat. He was the trooper who had had the hot knife confrontation with one of Valkyrie's crazies over breakfast. He looked like he should still be in school. Sweats was another school kid, short blond hair and pale blue eyes. He was watching a cartoon show on a little d-screen, laughing to himself. Wonderful. The last one was Tourist, a mop of brown hair, a heavy tan, dozing in his seat.

I wasn't sure I wanted to get to know them better, yet I was sure I would. And I knew it would hurt, all the worse, when anyone was killed.

"Pits, Mams, what's the story?" The message crackled from the cockpit.
Little Miss Miss
was with us, another Phantom bird hurtling through the vac, invisible and silent.

"Mams, Pits, all quiet," Redhawk responded. "Prep for autorun—coming up." Our approach transmissions were LOS/VSR—line of sight/very short range. Nobody could pick them up.

"Pits, tell DD that Scrapper yearns for his healing fingers."

"Tell her I said 'any time'," Doctor Doom replied warily. He evidently had a crush on Scrapper and had foolishly let her know about it. She liked girls better than boys but enjoyed harassing the Doc from time to time.

"Valkyrie," I interrupted.

"Yes…Thinker," she responded.

"Stay alert, all right?"

"Tell it to the O's, Thinker. Don't worry about us. Oh, and—Thinker?"

"Yes?"

"Stay alert."

I smiled. "Tenners, Mams. Pits out."

We broke away from the asteroid cloud and fell towards Augusta 6, two tiny invisible armored bats, full of microscopic life forms, inexplicably hurtling along the pathways of the Gods, speeding through infinity, cheating the vac, bound for an unseen world. It was visible on screen, but not yet out the plex.

Dragon moved up to the copilot's seat. We were surrounded by a brilliant, starry realm, a magnificent view of the Outvac and the greater universe beyond. We could see the Gassies, a glowing field of phospho dust. We were warm and comfy in the
Kiss
, but it was pretty scary when I thought about it, looking out to that hostile, inky vac. The Gods were totally indifferent to our fate. Whether we lived or died would make absolutely no difference to these stars, to these worlds. We could all die in a microfrac—all humanity could die, in a cosmic instant—and it would make no difference at all to the galaxy. The evidence of our presence would crumble and blow away in the wind, on all our worlds, in a few million years—and no one would ever know we had been there at all. Looking into infinity, I heard the music of the stars in my head. It was the music of the gods, the natural sounds of the universe, ice cold and spooky and terrifying, but I loved it. I still had it recorded on my tacnet, but I no longer needed any help hearing it. The stars were with me, always.

"Check out all that traffic," Dragon said. "There's plenty of O ships in orbit. Looks normal to me."

"Starcom was probably getting all excited about nothing," Redhawk said. "So they diverted some ships here—so what? Maybe they had a lot of captives they wanted to transport."

"We'll probably find out soon enough."

As we entered the system, we passed a massive gas giant, swirling in phospho blue splendor, ringed by hundreds of sparkling moonlets. And a few hours later Augusta 6 appeared—a cold silvery dot, a microscopic speck in the infinite, gaping hole in the vac that was the Outvac. An island in the vac, I thought, for any species that can take it and hold it without being exterminated by something stronger and faster.

I knew exactly what was going to happen, as I watched the planet's image on the screen. I had done this before. I didn't want to look but couldn't turn away. It grew—larger and larger—and it was deathly quiet in the ship as we watched. There was only a faint chirping and humming from our sensors. And soon Augusta 6 was a blinding, silvery sphere, reflecting sunlight, an orb of ice, seemingly rushing at us like a comet. I couldn't tear my eyes away. Now it was taking up half the sky, girt with glittering, icy clouds, and we were falling, lost and hopeless, out of control, right into it, falling to our doom. I felt like a microbe.

"Listen to all that traffic! Look at those tracks! There's a whole O fleet out there!"

My adrenalin was at max. I could hear the O transmissions, screeching on our screens. They didn't talk, of course, they were telepaths, but they used the electromagnetic spectrum as heavily as we did, for many purposes, and the
Kiss
was sucking it all in, recording everything for the Legion. I could see all the O ships on the screens, ringing the planet. Not one of them came after us. It was true—we were invisible! The O's had the entire system wired, and we slid right through.

"Soft drop, guys—entering the at!" We were gliding in now. The wings were starting to glow. There was no need for a hot drop, it seemed. If they couldn't detect you, you could take your time.

The ship began to shake. I closed my eyes. Could I hear the music of the stars again, or was I only imagining it? I was encased in armor, and we were falling onto the target, a world totally controlled by the O's. Strangely, I was perfectly calm. I glanced over at the armor covering my left arm. I had lasered a pix of Moontouch and Stormdawn into the cenite. They gazed at me, faintly luminous, just like a pair of angels.

"Nine," I whispered into my comset. "How you doing?"

"I've been better." Priestess was back in her seat, and evidently not in a good mood.

"Something wrong?"

"Oh, everything's just fine, Thinker. Listen, you stay close to me downside, all right?"

"As ever, Priestess. I'm not going anywhere."

"No heroics. I want to live through this one!"

"Heroics? You've got the wrong guy. I'm out to survive—and nothing else."

"Good. Let's keep it that way."

"Deal."

The craft shook and vibrated wildly; the skin was white-hot. We dropped in at a steep angle. It looked like a hot drop to me, but what did I know? Redhawk was humming to himself, seemingly completely relaxed. Well, if the pilot wasn't worried, why should I be? We dropped, white-hot and invisible, into the future.

***

"Everybody still alive? Stand by. We're approaching the zero." That was Psycho's idea of humor—but the news that someone—or something—replied to our rescue burst had set my adrenalin off, and it was still going. I lay on my armored back in the charred remnants of what had been a great, ancient forest of very tall trees. Now it was a horrific wasteland of awful charcoal titans, burnt black, withered branches scratching at the sky in silent protest. The whole forest had been incinerated. There had been quite a fight here, before the O's took the place.

It was raining, a slow, miserable drizzle that showed no signs of letting up. The sky was dark with ugly clouds, and angry bursts of thunder rumbled overhead, a terrible din, rattling my armor. The dead forest rose from rocky ground, and harsh metallic stones jutted out of the muddy earth all around me. I lay there, E at the ready, camfax cloth wrapped around me like a shroud, the rain pattering on my faceplate, all readouts clear, the tacmap showing the whole squad all around me. We were well dispersed. I was uneasy about that. We were supposedly invisible in the
Kiss
, so why not stay in the craft until we ID'd the target? But no—Legion doctrine was to starburst from the aircar, to avoid losing the whole squad in the event of a hit on the car. Well, we didn't have aircars any more, but now the starburst was done and each of us was presumably visible to whoever had the technology to spot us.

We had already been downside almost an hour and nothing had come after us. The response to our hello had come from a site labelled on our tacmaps as a middle school. It was uncomfortably close to Augusta Starport, too close to suit me. The port was crawling with activity. I felt our time was running out fast. I kept looking up into the sky, watching the rain fall. Whatever was going to come after us would strike from the sky.

"Stay alert, Sweety," I cautioned my Persist.

"All quiet, Three. Analysis of the covert Nova's encryption concludes the message is genuine." Her calm voice always soothed me. The four previous Novas had been completely overt—as if they were afraid of nothing. Now they do a covert one. Anything to delay us. I felt every instant counted. And here we were, dispersed, scattered all over the damned place.

"It's crap, Thinker," Valkyrie whispered in my ears on private. "They're sucking us in." She was sharing her doubts with me, then barking out quick, confident orders to her squad. They were several K away. Another roll of thunder sounded overhead. It was still raining.

"Maybe, maybe not," I replied. "We try. We have no choice."

"All right, Pits, move out," Dragon said calmly. "We're doing the recovery. Recon formation, on me. Mams, stand by to screen us. Kiss, Miss, I don't want anything coming at us. See the screen, gang." I was up and moving through that monstrous chargrilled forest, nervously scanning the rainy sky, the images flickering on my faceplate. I could read the Nova now. It was in the school, a series of low, partially destroyed buildings, an aircar lot, a solar unit, a sports field—the designation rippled over the image: Cold Run Midschool.

"You get that Manlink warmed up, Trigger," Psycho ordered quietly.

"She's cookin', Psycho." I could tell the rest of the squad wasn't feeling any better about the op than I was. I could see them on my tacmap all around me, filtering through the forest, moving eerily from tree to tree, all but invisible. But the 'all but' part, I knew, could get us killed. The school was only a few K away now. I couldn't believe a Legion trooper would set off a rescue Nova in a public building, on a world totally controlled by the O's. It was crazy!

"O ship launching from the port,"
Little Miss Miss
reported. I could hear it, a deep thunder, a phospho dot rising on my tacmap. It was raining harder now. I couldn't see much around me except black, blistered trees.

"Intruder! Omni aircar! Mams, Kiss—it's approaching your position. Permission to fire!"

"Miss, acquiring target."

"Negative, Kiss, Miss," Dragon ordered. "Don't fire unless it moves to attack—prep to fire! Pits, Mams, freeze!"

"O on scope—locked on. If he sneezes, he's dead." Redhawk was maxed out, I could tell, ready to blast the Omni aircar to atoms. I had dropped into the mud, wrapping my camfax cloak around me, clutching my E. I watched the aircar on the tacmap, gliding towards Mams' position as straight as an arrow—then serenely floating over them and on to the port, oblivious to the alien intruders hidden in the forest below. Over the port, the Omni starship was still rising.