Soldier of the Legion (22 page)

“All right, the sitrep. We’ve about wrapped it up in the Sunmarch. The Hand of God is still on the loose, but it doesn’t matter. Almost all the Taka in Sunmarch have declared loyalty to us, and we have more auxiliary volunteers than we can use. The Cult is finished.”

Psycho held his hand up, waving anxiously.

“Yes, Psycho. Do you have to wee-wee?” Snow Leopard sounded like he was losing patience.

“No, I, uh...I know I’m going to get in trouble for asking this, but, uh...what’s Sunmarch?”

Snow Leopard looked at him, smiled patiently, and answered. “If you would sleep in your cube instead of on the lounge floor, you would know that Sunmarch is the Taka name for the primary continent here, on which we are operating.”

“Ah, I see. Actually, I knew that. Just checking on you. That was a good answer.”

“Psycho,” Dragon cut in, “will you shut down and let the rest of us listen to the briefing?” Dragon did not get along with Psycho at all.

“Does my existence disturb you?”

“Profoundly,” Dragon responded.

“All right, blackout,” Snow Leopard said. “Now, the lab report on our Systies is out. And they do appear to be Systies. The lifies went over the bodies with everything they had, but didn’t find much. Whoever sent them out took a great deal of trouble to make sure they were sterile. They chose Outworlders rather than some other race, which might have confirmed their status as Systies. All the equipment they carried was ConFree civilian gear.

“They’d both had c-cells, at one time, and both c-cells had been removed. DefCorps implants c-cells just as we do, for ID, health and tracking purposes. The former placement of the c-cells was similar to what we know about DefCorps commando units. The preservatives on the teeth were Systie make. The soil on the boots did not, unfortunately, lead us anywhere.”

“So how did they die?” Dragon asked.

“Heart failure,” Snow Leopard responded, “in both cases.”

“Maybe we scared ‘em to death.”

“Yeah, they got a look at Warhound’s face.”

“No, they spotted Psycho’s outfit and died laughing.”

“All right, blackout,” Snow Leopard cut in. “It’s not funny. It’s likely they were psyched to die in certain situations. And those conditions were met.” We greeted Snow Leopard’s remark in silence. The contempt that the System showed for its own assets scared us. I wondered if the Systie troopers had known about their programming. If they had, it must have been a truly terrifying pursuit.

“So what have we concluded?” Merlin asked.

“Command has concluded that the Systies are here, in this system,” Snow Leopard replied, “and that there’s got to be more than two of them.”

“Well, then, where are they?” Ironman asked.

“We don’t know,” Snow Leopard said. “Possibly Andrion 2, possibly Andrion 3. But Command believes at least some of them are on-planet, right here. And the most likely location is somewhere in the exoseg zone. The exo presence here is certainly tied in with the Systies.”

“Why haven’t we spotted power systems, if the Systies are here?”

“If they’re here, they’re not using power systems.”

“But you can’t run anything without power systems.”

“That’s correct. All right, here’s what we plan. We’re going right into the Forest of Bones.” Snow Leopard flashed a tacmap on the screen. “No Taka have lived there in a hundred years. It’s crawling with exos, and the hives honeycomb the earth. It’s such a massive complex it will probably take months of work to close it down. We’re going in to search for Systies, and to kill exos, and to rescue any living Taka we may find. They feed on living Taka, and we’re not going to give up on the search no matter how slim the chances. The Taka are willing to go down those holes with no armor, hauling tridents and spears. I don’t think we can refuse to help them. This is the area in which Taka history places the first appearance of the exos, which occurred, we have learned, shortly after Star Survey visited the system.”

“Makes you wonder,” Coolhand said.

“Certainly does,” Merlin added. “That means they’ve done a whole lot in a little more than...let’s see...eighty Veltran years, or just over a hundred stellar years.”

“Several generations,” Snow Leopard said. “Considering the short life span of Andrion 2 mortals, nobody living here can remember when there were no exosegs.”

“Snow Leopard, what does Command say about the history?” Priestess asked.

Snow Leopard referred to a miniscreen. “The legends are full of doubletalk. The creatures are associated with falling stars, just as our first captive told us. They came from the Forest of Bones, and they carry their captives away living. There are legends about fearless Taka warriors going down into the hives and rescuing fair maidens. Unfortunately, Taka civilization destroyed itself long before the exosegs showed up, so there was nobody to write a competent history. But Taka history is another story—let’s not get into that. The point is that we’re hoping we’ll find something in the Forest of Bones.”

“There should be something in the history,” I said, “some clue...something more than we’ve learned so far. How can a history leave out something so important?”

“Yes,” Snow Leopard said. “There should be something. We’re debriefing everyone who might know. But nothing so far.”

“What about Moontouch?” I foolishly asked. “Did Command get anything useful out of her? She’s a princess of the Dark Clouds and a priestess of the Book. If anyone in this worldwide lunatic asylum knows anything, wouldn’t it be her?”

Snow Leopard hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “Command was ecstatic when they found out about your princess.”

Priestess stiffened and I wondered if Deadeye had broken his word and told more than he should.

Snow Leopard continued, “Unfortunately, like so many other things on Andrion 2, it didn’t work out like we’d hoped. The lifies are convinced that she’s either completely insane, or she’s smarter than they are and is holding back. The general consensus was that it was probably a little of both.”

That brought several low chuckles.

With a completely straight face, he added, “Command also noted that she seemed quite…fixated on you, Thinker, and that if the right opportunity presented itself, you might be able to get more out of her.”

It took Snow Leopard several attempts to bring the meeting aback under control. Psycho and Dragon took every opportunity thereafter to ride me about my “princess.” Worse, Priestess seemed distinctly unhappy.

###

It took me two days to track Moontouch down. I found her in a tent of treesilk, attended by Taka warriors armed with spears. Cleaned up and obviously well tended-to, she was even lovelier than I remembered. She offered me tea, and lit some incense. I declined the tea and told her what I wanted. She agreed to take me to the Loremaster.

Moontouch led us to a swamp and at dawn on the third day, we glided over its still dark waters in a Sunrealmer canoe. Eight of us shared the boat: Moontouch, myself, Dragon, Deadeye, and four Taka warriors, Moontouch’s Dark Cloud bodyguards. They rowed the long, slim, graceful boat, which had been carefully crafted from fine woods.

Warm morning mists drifted past us. It was sultry and quiet. We could only hear the birds, crying out as they rose to meet the sun, and the faint liquid chunk of the paddles as we slid through the water. The eastern sky slowly lightened while the west remained a cold, dark blue. Tall watertrees filled the swamp, forming a tangled roof of dark foliage. It came to life, burning crimson and gold, flames of sunlight running from branch to branch.

I leaned forward to speak to Moontouch. “It would be faster by aircar.”

“It cannot be, Slayer,” she responded. “One must approach the Loremaster with respect. It must be in a boat, at dawn.”

“Is it much longer?”

“Soon, Slayer. Soon.” She had been saying that for hours. It had been a long night. I glanced at Dragon. He checked his tacmod. We knew our location exactly—in the heart of what the locals called the Swamp of Lost Souls. Fully armed, Dragon and I wore litesuits and A-vests. Our comtops hung from our U-belts. Sweat trickled down from my temples. It was going to be a scorcher. Deadeye wore camfax and the other Taka were in skins.

We softly glided up to an ancient, massive pier of stone, now covered with moss and vegetation. A solitary pier in the heart of the swamp, jutting out from a tangled jungle rising from the mists. Ghost ships dock here, I thought.

“We are here,” Moontouch informed me.

The Taka tied the boat up at the pier, and we carefully climbed out. The pier proved slippery, moss and wet grass on crumbling slick stone. The overhanging trees muffled our voices. Dawn burned in the branches above us.

We followed a footpath into the jungle. Eerie clacking noises monitored our progress, and strange jungle creatures hooted and whistled from the tangled canopy above. Dragon and I had our E’s slung over our chests, ready for instant use. The noises of the jungle seemed to meld together into a staccato harmony. I walked behind Moontouch. She wore a short tunic of fine white cloth, and carried a jeweled knife at her waist.

“Here was Southmark,” she said, “proud citadel of the Golden March, city of many tongues, Queen of the Island Roads, Fortress of Flags. This was a great center of learning and culture.”

She gestured off to one side. “The Imperial Library of Southmark rose there—four levels, with the knowledge of the ages. The history of my people from the dawn of time was stored here.”

I could see only jungle, great ancient trees rising up from a misty floor. “What happened to Southmark?”

“Southmark fell before the Horde,” she recited, “flying white flags. Golden walls and crimson streets, in the Year of the Storm. And Southmark was no more.”

“What about the library?”

“Burned to ashes,” she answered. “And the ashes scattered to the winds.”

“Who were the Horde?” I asked. “Beasts?”

“No. We are guilty. The Horde inherited all that Southmark had been. My own ancestors. They burned it all.”

A few shafts of golden sunlight flickered through the forest roof, illuminating a ruined temple covered with vegetation. Burning history—I could not imagine a more heinous crime.

“Do not grieve for Southmark,” she said. “Every nation writes its own end.”

The dead city was cloaked in trees, the roots crushing the stones, merciless, relentless constrictors of living wood, shattering the past. We climbed crumbling staircases, hidden under a tangle of vines, then into the forest, trees rising in rows to either side of us up to a flowery jungle canopy flaming golden with the dawn.

###

The Loremaster squatted on a shattered marble block before a small campfire, an old man attended by two young boys. Naked to the waist, clothed in rags, his leathery skin was burnt brown by the sun. He had a medallion at his neck, the same as Moontouch’s. He squinted at Dragon and me from a deeply wrinkled face, as if he had trouble with his vision.

He offered us bark tea, a medicinal potion we knew to be clear and light and faintly stimulating. The boys produced stone cups, brown with age, and poured the brew from a battered kettle. It tasted slightly bitter. Moontouch made the introductions, and explained that we wanted to know about the origin of the exosegs.

The Loremaster blinked at me with cold, black, animal eyes and slowly sipped his tea. He suffered from advanced age, a mortal’s disease—easily cured. To me, it was a horror from the Age of Chaos, and the worst possible way to die.

The Loremaster spoke in a brittle, cracked voice. “Slayer from afar, you seek forbidden fruit. The lore of the past is sacred, and easily lost. We guard it like a treasure. Only with knowledge can you understand the past, and you have no knowledge. You are violence, blowing in from the dark like a rainstorm in the night.”

I broke in before Moontouch could interrupt. I could deal with this tough old bird. “We come in the dawn, Loremaster, with respect. I want the knowledge to help your people—if we can understand the origin of the Beasts, we can kill them all and bring peace to this world. We have already stopped the Cult of the Dead. With your help, we can stop the Beasts as well. If you do not help, many more Taka may die.”

“Peace,” the Loremaster said. He cleared his throat, and spat off to one side. “You will kill them all, for peace. Our destiny is to die. The Taka are not afraid of death.” He took another sip of tea, defiant.

I decided to try the direct approach. “Where did the Beasts come from?” I asked quietly. The Loremaster held out his cup, and one of the boys poured in more tea. The boy was very pretty—smooth skin, clean hair—just like the other one. I wondered about that.

The Loremaster sipped tea, and spoke, his gaze far away. “In the Year of the Burning Trees came the first of the falling stars. They fell into the Forest of Bones, and the night sky was red. The Woodmen went to see, but the Woodmen did not return. Then came the Beasts, touched by Death’s black hand, to seal our doom. And the stars continued to fall, and more Beasts came, stealing our people away. Such is the fate of our race. Doomed to die, we kneel before the Beasts.”

I put down my tea, and glanced at Dragon. He did not seem overly impressed. I certainly would not want the Loremaster guarding my back during any disagreement with the exos. He sounded like a devotee of the Cult of the Dead—kneel before the Beasts! Kneel and die, better him than me.

“Has anyone ever returned from the Forest of Bones?” I wanted to keep him talking.

The Loremaster paused, and his eyes dimmed. “The warrior Longwalker, of the Grass People, returned from the dead with the virgin Starlight. He dared the Forest of Bones, and found his way with fire into the House of the Living Dead. He fought the Beasts and freed the virgin and raised the Phantoms of the March. They climbed to the sunlight, and left the dead behind, and visited the land of the living, and touched their mortal kin. And then, cursed by the Gods, Longwalker and Starlight journeyed together into the wilderness, into unknown worlds.”

The Loremaster returned to his tea, his face expressionless. Interesting. Falling stars, and more falling stars. The House of the Living Dead I knew, having visited it myself. And he used fire—smart! Also necessary. Starlight must have been quite a girl. Yet somehow I doubted that Longwalker went in alone—he must have had a little help. Like the Taka equivalent of a CAT force. But something about the story bothered me.