Cross of the Legion (18 page)

"Who's the goon?" I asked, as the others disappeared.

"You mean Delta Two. He was assigned to me. He's kind of a…bodyguard."

"You should teach him some manners."

"That's not important, Wester. How are you?" She stood before me, almost at attention.

"I'm fine. And how are you, Tara?"

"Not so good. But that's not important either. Are you ready for a new mission?"

"What mission is that, Tara?"

"The mission we talked about before, Wester. The mission to Chudit. The only mission of any real importance for the survival of humanity."

"Chudit isn't there any more, is it?"

"That doesn't matter, Wester."

"You told me time travel is not possible, to a destination a hundred thousand years in the past—like Chudit—unless you want to arrive there dead."

"That's true."

"You also told me the Legion decided not to build another copy of the Star of Dindabai."

"Also true. But none of that matters, Wester. I've solved the problem. And you're going to help me. Now. Will you do it?" Her eyes blazed. I knew every word she was saying was true. The Star was still in her, still doing its unholy work, boring holes in her brain, wreaking its awful magic. Gildron may have killed the Star, but he could not kill what was already in her. She had to cope with that by herself.

"Of course I'll do it," I said. There was no way I could have refused this one—not even if they had told me the chances for my survival were zero. I remembered a previous pledge I had made to myself—never to get involved with Tara again. Don't even waste your time thinking about it, I thought. We don't do what we want. We have no choice at all. We are microbes on the breath of God.

"He's ready," a female voice said from Tara's comset.

"All right, Lori. Is the shuttle set?"

"Standing by."

"Tell them we're on the way. Come on, Wester, we've got to hurry." She grabbed me by an elbow and hustled me out of her office and into a corridor full of office flunkies bustling to and fro. Some of them appeared to be rather high-ranking.

We took an elevator up to topsides and emerged into an outer alcove where we were quickly carded and cleared. The door slid open to reveal an office even larger than Tara's, with a spectacular view of the entire Legion-Fleetcom complex and the starport beyond. The opposite wall was covered with d-screens, most of them active. A starmap table was off to one side. We passed about a squad of high-ranking Fleetcom officers heading for the door. One man remained, clad in Legion black, standing behind the desk. He looked young, slim and fit, average height, with short, neatly clipped brown hair, a pale, fine-boned face, and eyes that burned with an unholy light. All our leaders had those eyes. It seemed to be some kind of requirement.

"One, this is Thinker of Recon," Tara said. "Thinker, Two Two One." I snapped to attention and fired off a salute. This was the new Commander of the 22nd Legion, the Rimguard. He was the successor to Pointman, LC One, the sainted former leader of the Lost Command. Tara was certainly moving in rarified circles.

He returned my salute slowly, taking me in with his eyes. "At ease, trooper." I snapped to at ease. "So—this is Thinker. Is he as good as you say, Tara?"

"Better!"

"Trooper—" he said, glaring at me, "I have examined Galactic Information's ops plan and concluded it is feasible. However, it's going to be up to you to make it work."

"Yes sir!"

"Can you do it?"

"Yes sir!"

"Good. The future of the human race may very well be decided by the outcome. That's a grave responsibility. Tara tells me you're up to it. Total success is the only acceptable result. Are you willing to accept those limits?"

"Yes sir!"

"Good." A buzzer sounded on his desk. "Yes."

"The Capella people are here, sir."

"Show them in. Thinker, Tara—report back to me upon successful completion of the mission."

"Yes sir," Tara said quietly.

"Yes sir!" I snapped off another salute. He returned it listlessly. As we reached the door he called after me.

"Thinker."

"Yes sir?" I paused in the doorway.

"Good luck."

"Yes sir!"

Tara rushed me back into the elevator, down to ground level and into an aircar for a fast ride to the starport, where we were hustled into a shuttle. I settled into a seat beside Tara and the shuttle began rolling almost immediately, then lifted, wheeling over the port, gaining speed. Raindrops streaked past the plex of the passenger windows. The nuclear roar faded away as we broke through the sound barrier, heading for the vac. The flight was almost deserted—just Tara and me and a few others. I spotted Delta Two, sitting several rows behind us.

"Doesn't he ever leave you alone?" I asked.

"It's his job."

"What would he do if I molested you?"

"Wester…"

I put an arm around her and pulled her close and gave her a wet sloppy kiss on the ear. She giggled and blushed and put a hand on my knee.

"Stop it, Wester! That was a long time ago. Too long. A million years ago—back when we were both human. But we're not now. We are both…slaves of the Legion. And we've got a mission to fulfill. There's no time to play."

I sighed, and released her. "All right. Why don't you tell me about it. Especially since I so enthusiastically told Two Two One I would do it or die. Exactly what have I agreed to?"

"You were perfect back there, Wester."

"Yeah—nothing to it. All you have to do with people like that is say 'yes sir' nine or ten times. It requires no thought and they love it. Next time please brief me on the mission
before
I discuss it with your superior, not after."

"Sorry, Wester. There was no time. Well, we'll be in orbit soon. I believe they're stopping at Quaba Fleet Dock first, and dropping off some cargo and passengers. Then we'll be moving off to our destination."

"Which is?"

"It's in distant orbit—not too far. I'll explain everything once we're there. You'll see."

"You never change, Tara. What's your new job, anyway? That's a nice office you've got back there."

"Didn't anybody tell you? I'm Chief of Galactic Information for the Outvac. I'm a commander now. It's an important position, Wester. But for the moment there's only one piece of information the Legion wants from me. And that's the data on the White Death. If I can't give them that, I'm history. That data is located on Chudit, Wester—and you're going to get it for me. I'm sending you to Chudit."

Chief of Galactic Information for the Outvac! Tara's rehabilitation was complete. Only a few years ago she was breaking rocks with me in a Legion stockade. And now she was hobnobbing with the Chief of the 22nd Legion. Quite a comeback!

"Well that's fine, Tara. Congratulations. Let me know when you're ready to tell me how I'm going to get this information for you—and how I'm going to visit a world that's no longer there. What are we going to do? Search every asteroid in Chudit's former orbit? That shouldn't take longer than a couple of thousand years. Humanity might be dead by then, at the rate we're going."

"No, Wester. We're not going to do that. Just relax. I'll tell you everything once we arrive. Now I'd like a few moments of peace and quiet." And she pushed her seat back and closed her eyes and was asleep in moments.

***

"Permission to come aboard," Tara said.

"Granted. Welcome aboard, Commander." The boarding officer gave us a sharp salute and a recording piped us aboard. According to the inscription on the bulkhead of the boarding dock, we were entering the Confederate transport
Lifeline
. It was spotless and evidently brand new. I had not heard the name before. A brace of Fleetcom vacheads accompanied us along a bright, gleaming corridor, led by a Fleetcom Commander. He seemed to know Tara. That was odd—a transport did not rate a flag officer.

"We're going to the launch bay, Wester," Tara said. "What I want to show you is there."

"Whatever you say."

"Wester, this is Commander Sento Alran. His sole mission is to support you."

"That's right, Thinker," the commander said. "We're here to make your mission a success. Anything you need, you come see me." He was in Fleetcom black, a tall trooper with short blond hair and icy blue eyes.

"Yes sir," I said. "Thank you."

The launch bay hatches hissed open and we found ourselves on a walkway that ran around the bay. The great bay was dark except for the creature inside. It was a massive ship, dead black but glowing a pale violet in the spotlights. I could see instantly that the launch bay was built especially for this ship, and that the C.S.
Lifeline
itself must have been special-built as a launching platform for this exotic bird. She was perhaps four times the size of one of our Phantoms. Her lines were different. The shape was vaguely delta, but it did not look like it was built for the at. Also I could see no cockpit or viewports. It appeared to be sealed. An awesome, lovely thing, a cruel Legion lady, a deadly dark bat from the bowels of Hell—that much was evident in a single glance. Then I followed her lines to the front and I understood. A long, thick boom led to a bulbous, oval nose.

I closed my eyes as my fingers gripped the cold railing of the walkway. Tara was at my side, silent, letting me soak it up. Finally she spoke.

"What do you think, Wester? Isn't she beautiful?"

"This is a D-neg time-drive starship, Tara."

"That's right, Wester. You're looking at the Confederate Ship Salvation. She's a drone. There's no crew. We control her from here."

"How is this going to help us?"

"I'm about to tell you."

"I thought you said the Legion had decided against building any more D-neg time drive starships."

"I didn't say that, Wester. You've got to listen. I said we had decided against rebuilding a copy of the Star of Dindabai—in light of what we had learned about the physics of time travel."

"I see."

"We've built…more than one…of these little ladies."

"Drones."

"Drones."

"What good does that do us? Observation?"

"Better than that. Do you remember the realtime starlink I used to communicate with you after we found you washing dishes on Nimbos? The one you refused to believe?"

"Yes. I refused to believe it because it would have meant faster than light transmissions—and that's impossible."

"But it worked, didn't it?"

"Sometimes."

She laughed. "Teething problems. It worked, Wester. And it works better now. Do you recall what made it work?"

"Something to do with quantum effects."

"That's right—quantum entanglement. As Whit told you at the time, we did not violate the speed of light. We simply avoided it. We went somewhere it doesn't apply. If you separate quantum particles that were once together you have a quantum connection. Once you're in the quantum world, things change. You can use the quantum particles to send signals via that connection—instantaneously—even from a hundred light years away. Or a thousand. The quantum connection always applies, no matter what the distance. It's not really superluminal, but in effect it is. We used it for instantaneous text signalling, for instantaneous voice signalling, for instantaneous vid signalling, and then…well, I'll show you. Follow me."

***

A young tech in a lab coat rose to greet us as we entered the installation. I recognized it immediately. It was a Holo-X control room, but it appeared a bit larger and more complex than the last one I'd seen.

"Wester, this is Jason. Jason, Wester. His war name is Thinker. Get to know each other. You're going to be spending a lot of time together."

"Glad to meet you at last!" Jason said. "Everything's ready." He was a slender, intense youth with straight longish hair, wearing a single Legion cross earring, and he grinned at me in unrestrained delight.

"You know how the Holo-X concept works, Wester," Tara said. "You've used it in combat successfully. You'll be using it on this mission as well. With a few changes. This is how we do it: All the output—your image and all the data to form your holo at the target site—is channeled into a quantum duplicator, rather than being focused directly onto the target. The quantum duplicator then transfers all that information—instantaneously—to its sister unit in the C.S. Salvation. The Salvation is equipped with a descrambler that takes those quantum signals and switches them back to Holo-X images. The images are then transmitted downside to the target from the Salvation, through a regular Holo-X transmission, and your image forms there—instantaneously. The Holo-X receiver sensors copy the local environment and flash it back to the Salvation via the holo link. It is then fed into the quantum duplicator and transferred via the quantum connection to its sister unit in our ship. The unit descrambles it, transmits it to the Holo-X receiver, and the Holo-X unit forms the local environment around you, in your E-sim chamber, here on board. Again, instantaneous. We've tried it, Wester. It works—perfectly. We can't visit the far past personally, but we can now do it via Holo-X. We're sending the C.S. Salvation to Chudit, in the very distant past. The quantum connection is just as instantaneous from the far past to the present as it is from site to site in the present. We're sending you there, Wester. You're going to visit Chudit. You're going to walk around there as a holo, and find out how those people beat the plague. The Legion has put a fortune into this technology. Now it's up to you."

"This is incredible, Tara." I looked around the control center as the impact of what she was saying slowly sank in. "You've opened up the entire past to time travel. And we're not even going to have to leave this room!"

"That's right. And this technology is cosmic secret. You can't tell anyone who's not cleared—not even Priestess."

"I've never understood this, Tara. You're going to aim the Salvation at…the orbit where Chudit used to be. But…a hundred thousand years ago, Chudit was nowhere near here. It was probably on the other side of the Galaxy, and the Galaxy was unimaginably distant from where it is now. How do you…"