Cross of the Legion (13 page)

"I've been watching them for hours," he said, "It's as if…I don't want to miss any of it. They're having a great time. Great kids." He shook his head again.

"So what's the score?" I asked.

"Don't know," he whispered. He was sitting there paralyzed, his long hair covering his face completely. Where the hell does she find them, I wondered.

The kids were taking a break, clowning around, chasing each other in circles. Some of them clustered around an older lady who was ladling a pink liquid into cups. She was also barefoot, in shorts. They all had brown skin and brown hair. The picture flickered, faded, then returned.

"It does that every once in awhile," he said, "but it always comes back. Yes, it's amazing, what we can do, now, with photons, and quantum effects. Starlight, falling on a planet, reflecting off into space. Nothing is lost—nothing at all. Each world shines like a floodlight, and the light rolls into the vac, and it goes on forever, at the speed of light. A tiny speck of light—but all the secrets of the planet are there, everything from the dawn of time is there, every single day, and all you have to do is show up at the right place to receive whatever interests you. It's all there! History is not lost. It's rolling through the vac, right now, everything that's ever happened on every single world, galactic history, rolling through space forever. We can unlock that light now, we can manipulate it, we can break it down, we can zoom in on everything. All the secrets are right there. Every…single…world."

"Where's this?" I pointed to the screen.

"Don't ask where. Ask when. Two thousand, two hundred eighteen light years ago, this image started its journey. A flickering spark of light from an obscure planet, lost in the galactic void, not even visible to the human eye. But it can't hide from us. I can view the entire surface of this planet, on this particular sunny day. A fine day for a game of football! A fine day! Of course, the players are long dead—long forgotten. Except by me!"

The kids started playing again. I leaned forward, watching the game with renewed interest. I could even see their faces!

"Good Lord," I whispered. My skin was crawling.

"You and I are the only witnesses—in the entire galaxy—to this football game," he continued. "I consider it a great privilege. Those kids had to wait a long, long time for somebody to appreciate their game."

I was silent.

"The observatory is not here," he continued. "They're just relaying the images to us. But I can control it all from here. It's a starship—the C.S.
Cyclops
. Even the name is secret. Don't ever repeat it."

"So…history is not lost," I repeated. The full magnitude of this thing was beginning to dawn on me.

"It's all out there. Everything that's ever happened. Every lost empire, every doomed world, every tragic, brilliant, fatally flawed civilization, everything humanity has ever done on a planet's surface. All our successes, all our failures, all of our genius and stupidity and atrocities—all of it. Civilizations that have vanished in the sands of time, kingdoms that have disintegrated to dust, leaving not a single document, worlds that turned to slag when their star went nova—it's all there. There's so much we cannot possibly read it all, even if we build a hundred ships like the
Cyclops
. Somehow…that makes it even more tragic. All the secrets of history are flashing past us, at the speed of light. But what can you do? I'm watching a football game. It's a fine game!" He shook his head again. I could only stare at those long-dead children, charging along that bright green field.

"This particular world is out in Sagitta," he said. "It's called Odura by the O's. No ConFree or Systie ship has ever been that far out in the Nulls. But you might as well fam yourself with the place. Tara is sending you there."

***

"I just wanted to say goodbye—and thank you," Tara explained. She had invited Priestess and me to the Commander's Mess. It was an intimate little place, low lights and snowy white tablecloths and heavy cutlery and lovely little waitresses, serving us expertly. It reminded me of the executive dining room at the Lost Command's Hqs on Dindabai. The Legion's upper crust evidently was developing a taste for a little quiet luxury. I didn't blame them. I sure wouldn't want all that responsibility. And if I had it, I might want a chance to relax.

"Thank us for what?" I asked. We sipped dox over dessert. There were only the three of us. It all seemed so artificial to me—something that was just flashing past my eyes before my return to the real world. I felt that Priestess and I were already on our way back to
Atom's Road
, falling, helpless and doomed, into a hopeless future where the sky was a mighty dark cloud of antimat debris and we would wait, as the earth shook, with little pieces of shrapnel pinging off our armor, watching the O's walk out of the cloud, glittering violet. I could almost see it as Tara replied.

"For your cooperation. I know you sometimes question my motives, Wester. Motivation is a very complex process. But for this one, there's no mystery. This one is for God, Wester. This one is for Deadman. I prayed for you, Wester, last night, on my knees, for you and Priestess and your whole squad. I don't do that often, Wester, but I meant it sincerely. The White Death is spreading in geometric progression. All of ConFree is paralyzed, and the same is happening to the O's. Transportation and communication are grinding to a halt. The System is next. It's getting closer. They're taking extraordinary measures to avoid it, but it's probably hopeless. There's no vaccine, Wester. It eats our fungicides like candy. The death count is approaching a million in ConFree alone. Society is unraveling on infected worlds. Not even the Legion can fight this, Wester. At least not yet."

"And you really think we're going to resolve it?" Priestess asked.

"Chances are very low that you will succeed. The events we're talking about happened over a hundred thousand years ago. One planet—and only one planet—survived after being infected. A planet the O's called Chudit. Your mission is to find it, Wester. I've put you on it because I know you're a mad dog, once you set out to do something you regard as important. I've seen you in action, Wester. You're one scary guy. And I think you know how important this is. You've got to find Chudit, Wester. We have only a very general idea of where it was—but of the worlds that are there, the O's can't identify any as Chudit. You've got to find it! The longer it takes you, the more ConFree nationals die. Chudit holds the secret to countering the White Death. Our finest scientists are helpless, Wester. So are the O's. They would never have come to us if they could have handled it themselves." Her Assidic eyes were blazing. She was truly beautiful, but I detected a great weariness. All the weight of the galaxy was on her shoulders. I didn't envy her.

"You make it sound as if our chances of accomplishing this are very remote," I said.

"They are! But we've got to try! More than a hundred thousand stellar years ago, the planet Odura was the hub of a mighty human civilization that had developed into a regional center of civilization and culture in Sagitta. But it was far enough from the infection that the White Death never reached it. The O's knew a great deal about Odura, a hundred thousand years ago. They've passed on some of that knowledge to us. They've identified Odura, Wester. And we've found it. You've seen the images yourself—from over two thousand years ago. The Odurans were historians, Wester. They had temples and libraries devoted to the study of galactic history. The secret of Chudit should be there, Wester."

"Chudit was a hundred thousand years ago, Tara. There'll be nothing left but dust."

"Yes…I know. That's likely. All we have are images, from a few thousand years ago. Practically yesterday. And it doesn't look like there's much left on Odura from the old days. Nevertheless…we've got to try. Don't you agree?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Find it, Wester. Visit Odura, and find Chudit. And remember…every moment's delay costs a human life."

"Of course."

"We can only spare you one squad—Jox. You will be Mission Commander and my direct representative. Dragon will remain squad leader but he will report to you. We can't give you the
Spawn
, either. There's too much for Recon to do. But we'll get you there. You'll get your Phantom, too. One squad, Wester. Make it count!"

"If there's anything to find there, we'll find it, Tara."

"Find Chudit! That's all I want. Find it! We'll do the rest!"

"Your dox is getting cold, Tara. You know…I've recently decided that you're God's personal representative, at this particular moment in history. You once told me you had to be strong, to triumph over evil. You were absolutely right. I'm not going to quit trying until I'm dead, Tara. And I know it's the same with you. Don't worry about being tired. We're all tired. Isn't that right, Priestess?"

"I'm ready to drop. But I've got to keep an eye on you, Thinker. I'll keep you alive."

"Miss? Some more dox, please."

Chapter 7
Odura

"Looks pretty bleak," Dragon said. We gathered around the illuminated map table. It was glowing a faint red, displaying the latest images from our probes. Bleak was an understatement. Odura appeared to be mostly desert, wind-blown sand and faded weatherworn rocks and dried out stream beds and scruffy, sparse vegetation.

I didn't care. I was totally consumed by the mission. Find Chudit! It was branded on my brain. I was convinced that the secret of Chudit was down there somewhere, hidden in the sands. And I was going to find it!

We were on the Confederation tacship
Die Young
, and we were so far out in Sagitta by then that I no longer even felt human. I felt dead. I felt I had transcended humanity, that I had entered into some kind of special zone where my humanity was no longer a factor.

Nobody had been this far out before, at least not on this side of the galaxy. It had been one long, scary ride, into the eye of the hole, into the land of not quite there, into the out and out to the in, riding a magical quantum antimat bullet through alternate worlds, with the pressure of the entire universe on your skin and icy cold fear in your heart and you know it is the vac, teasing you.

I think we all felt the same. Nobody said anything, but I could tell. We had ridden that antimat bullet. We had powered our way right into this impossibly distant realm. We were delegates from Deadman, aliens from the dark side, totally mindless, totally merciless, and totally focused, and we had only one mission—Chudit.

"Those city-states that were here two thousand years ago seem to be gone," Priestess said.

"Yeah. Things have definitely gone downhill. See all those little shacks? It's like the whole society has disintegrated. Nobody's building anything anymore, except shacks." Dragon trailed a finger over the illuminated surface of the fotomap.

"It's a natural process," Psycho said. "From order to disorder. If you stop fighting it, you lose."

"You should know, Psycho," Tourist said. "The area around your bunk is a perfect example."

"Shut down, Tourist. If the sight offends you, feel free to clean it up. I'm too busy to do housework."

"No, thanks. That underwear has got things living in it. I've seen it moving."

"This is the temple area?" I asked. The chit-chat stopped abruptly.

"That's it," Dragon replied. "You can barely make it out." A massive, dead stone city, buried in the sands, disintegrating to dust. It was almost invisible from above. It had been a mighty fortress-city, countless generations ago. Now it was nothing.

The rest of the squad was silent, as I leaned over the fotomap. I had slowly come to realize that they were afraid of me. Not Dragon and Psycho and Priestess and Redhawk, of course, but the others. It had come as a great surprise to me. It had evidently started when I shot that Orman during the Calgoran 2 raid. I'm not sure why it surprised me, that they were afraid of me. I had felt the same way about Boudicca—Gamma One—when she shot that priest on Coldmark with no provocation. I thought at the time that she was insane. Now, however, several long years later, I was not so sure.

"There are whole cities buried under those sands," Redhawk said. "All over the planet. How are we going to know what to go after?"

"We're going to need help," I said. "The locals are going to help us."

A rust-red desert, blowing in the wind. A dead civilization. Primitives, living in crude huts. And Squad Jox, the Armpits, standing around the light table. Young troopers, anxious, serious, eager, ready for the next drop.

"And how's our lady?" Dragon asked.

"She's hot," Redhawk replied. "Hot and heavy—we're loaded. All set." The
Kiss
was to be our only hope if anything went wrong. The
Die Young
would launch us in the Kiss, somewhere outside the Odura System, and then would set off on the long return star-run to ConFree vac. We would not see her again for close to a month. We were to be on our own, on the far side of the galaxy, just us and the
Kiss
. Tara had given us one month to accomplish our mission. Every starship was vital to Fleetcom. They could not spare a tacship to orbit the Odura system for a month, waiting for us. Tacships were needed elsewhere.

We were going in live this time. We were not expecting any opposition, and the Legion had to save the Holo-x units for more dangerous projects.

"All right, you've all read the mission orders and the tacplan," Dragon said. "What it amounts to is, we're going to make it up as we go along. But the bottom line mission is, we are to uncover information that will lead the Legion to the location of the planet Chudit. And any way we do that is fine." He glared at everybody. He was certainly the finest squad leader in the galaxy—I had no doubts at all about that.

I knew the future of ConFree could well depend on the success of our mission.

***

Talk about lonely—we were all together, all ten of us, in the Kiss, approaching Odura, but I'd never felt lonelier. The
Die Young
had spit us out like an unwanted grape seed, leaving us all alone, out in Sagitta, on the far side of the galaxy, uncountable light years from everything we had ever known. Even the stars were different here—very different. As we sat there in our A-suits on the long ride in, I watched the screens and thought I could hear the mournful howl of distant stars, the sound of infinity, echoing inside the
Kiss
, crawling over my skin.

"What do you think happened to them, Psycho?" DD asked.

"Don't know. We'll find out soon enough," Psycho replied. The planet was ringed with orbiting debris—old satellites, weird dead space stations, bizarre derelict ships. Not one was inhabited or functional. We had already probed. Redhawk was going to look them over later. We did not really care what had happened to Odura. They had evidently given up star travel. We figured the secret of Chudit was downside, hidden in the historical records of the distant past, if any were left. Supposedly history had been important in this world. Surely something would be left!

"Here's your new home, girls! Comin' at ya!" The
Kiss
turned smoothly toward our target, and Odura glided into view on the d-screens, a ruddy, dull, mottled orb, streaked with white. It glowed like a poisonous fruit against a black velvet sky. I could see the thin film of atmosphere against the vac. Another magical world, another miraculous gift from God. Mankind had taken a different road here. This branch of humanity had nothing whatever to do with us, except perhaps for the same remote ancestors. But some things remained the same. I could still remember those wonderful children, kicking that ball through a beautiful green field. I got a thrill whenever I thought about it. Children, running through a field. Stormdawn! The future of the galaxy!

And soon Odura filled the vac, a terrifying presence looming before us, dwarfing us, overpowering us like an awesome God. We fell into the future, into the maw of that awful orb, my blood frozen in fear. We were such a tiny, insignificant presence—like intruding bacteria. I did not think it would take much effort at all for that mighty planet to snuff us out of existence in a blinding flash.

I prayed to Deadman. I prayed for the strength to persevere, and triumph. Only victory would be acceptable, I knew—only success. If we failed, the desert winds would bleach our bones and that fine red sand would quietly erase all evidence of our existence, and the
Die Young
would return and orbit a few times, calling out for us, and then leave.

We fell into the at. The wings of the
Kiss
began to glow. I was determined to accomplish the mission—succeed or die! Moontouch and Stormdawn gazed at me, their images burnt onto my armor. Psycho snapped on the Drop Song, max volume, and it reverberated through the cabin.

"The past is dead and gone,
The scent of flowers in a tomb
A half remembered tune,
From a half-remembered time.
Open your eyes, cast off old dreams!
A new world awaits you—
A new world to love you—
Drop, drop, drop!
The past is dead and gone!"

***

"All clear, Redhawk. Launch the E-sled." I stood in a swirling cloud of dust as the
Kiss
hovered behind me. We were ringing the Phantom, A & A, armored & armed. Our ZA was out in the middle of nowhere, a vast desert of rocks and sand and scrub. Our sensors told us there was no life in the vicinity. That's the kind of ZA you want.

The E-sled hissed out of the belly of the Kiss, raising more dust. It was late afternoon. We stirred up quite a cloud, but there was nobody there to see it except us. Sweats piloted the sled and Trigger set up his Manlink in front next to the driver. E-sleds were neat. They were really E-cars—air effects cars—but the Legion called them E-sleds. The
Kiss
couldn't carry an aircar, but the cargo hold had just enough room for a fully loaded sled, and that was all we needed for transportation on Odura. E-sleds don't get any altitude, they just skim over the surface like an E-car, but this one could transport the whole squad and all our equipment.

"How's the at, Priestess?" Dragon asked.

"Nothing nasty," Priestess replied, reading her instruments. "Breathable. No White Death spores, no fungus—no bacteria we can't handle."

The E-sled glided past me gently in a hazy swirl of sand and dust. Sweats whooped with enthusiasm. Trigger grinned through his faceplate. E-sleds were fun. I moved my limbs. The grav was not bad. A small but brilliant sun shone white-hot in the faint blue sky. A tiny blue sun hung on the other side of the sky, sparkling like a jewel but not generating much light.

"All right, board the sled," Dragon ordered. "Redhawk, back to the vac and hang there. If we need you, we'll call."

"Don't hesitate. I'll drop right in. Nothing I like better than a party!" The
Kiss
faded in and out of visibility, even at this close range. Her cloaking was truly miraculous. However, we were so far from home we had no intention of risking the
Kiss
downside any longer than necessary. She was going back into orbit where she'd be safe, and ready to evac us if we needed it. Whatever was to happen, Redhawk was to miss most of it.

"Get outta here," Psycho said, "and stay alert!"

"You need any butts kicked, just call. Be careful, guys!"

"Tenners! See ya, Redhawk!" The
Kiss
glided away in a huge cloud of dust and instantly vanished, tearing up through the at, bound for the vac.

The E-sled floated past me and I grabbed a handhold and leaped aboard. The top was open, giving us all a free field of fire. I settled into my seat. Everyone clambered on. Everything we needed was in that sled—supplies for a whole month.

We slithered away from the
Kiss's
lingering dust cloud at a leisurely speed, heading away from the white sun, over a frightening, barren landscape of red sands and faded yellow rocks and shrunken, dying shrubs. Dragon and Psycho consulted a colored fold-out tacmap. The breeze rushed past my helmet, keening in my ears. The E-sled's ride was silky smooth.

"I got to go wee-wee."

"Shut down, will ya?"

"All we need is a public library, right?"

"Wonder what the local dollies are like?"

"Bet they got hair under their arms."

"Am I the only one who's hungry?"

"Eat this."

"You wish!"

***

"They're moving in on those shacks." We were all flat on our armored bellies in a dune drift under camfax cloaks, peering through field spotters and E-scopes at the activity on the horizon. Past a blinding white salt plain, a ragged line of scruffy vegetation grew along the bottom of a series of jagged, dry hills. Several crude shacks were strung out through the greenery.

"They're armed. Looks like x-guns." I zoomed in. A small, deeply tanned man with long greasy hair and filthy leather clothing was advancing on the shacks, carrying what looked like a long-barreled firearm.

"What's with those…look outside the huts."

I panned past several advancing men—tough grizzled characters, burnt by the sun, dressed in ragged clothing, all carrying weapons. One of the shacks appeared. A shelter seemingly made out of wooden trash, totally sealed. Not a single window was visible. Out front, a long-legged, wild-eyed girl knelt in the dirt, looking fearfully at the approaching intruders. She was quite young, I realized. As she shifted position, she revealed a chain around one ankle. It led to a large, rusted metal structure that appeared to be an abandoned farm implement.

"There's more of them. Each shack has got a girl chained in front."

"Well I'll be damned. What do you…"

"Yeah, that's a G-car. They came in a groundcar. There's a couple of guys around the car. They don't appear to have any other security out." I shifted my scope to the ground car, a bombed-out wreck fluttering with flags and pennants.

"No worries for them."

"He's going to rape her."

"What?"

"He's stripping her—see?" I snapped back to the first girl. The intruder in leather was ripping her clothes off, laughing. He had dropped his weapon to the ground. She was crying, thrashing around in the dirt, helpless. He placed a knee on her back and started tearing at her panties.

"Kill him," Dragon said.

"Dibs," Priestess said. She slapped the E snugly against her shoulder and faceplate and caressed the trigger. I watched through the scope. His head exploded, spraying blood and brains, and he toppled over onto his victim.

"Kill them all," Dragon ordered. We all fired—just one shot each. They moved fast, once they realized something was wrong, but they weren't fast enough. I tracked a long-limbed kid and hit him in the head with x-min. He was dead before he hit the ground.

"Nine dead," Psycho reported. "Survivors heading for the G-car. Three, four…" A volley of shots snapped over our heads. "Believe they've spotted us. Sounds like x."`

The sands erupted around us.

"Autofire. Hmm—ground car moving. They're attacking!"

"That's not too smart."