Chapter 1

Blood Feast

“Liberty, Tac One, we’re approaching the Community Center. Nothing to report.” The young squad leader sounded a bit tensenot that I blamed him. We were combat-dispersed along a tree line, about to move out towards the little settlement. It was late afternoon on Fortuna and from our position the low, modern lines of the Community Center appeared untouched by any disaster. But something was certainly wrongthe all-ships emergency alarm was still bleating through space, crying for help from any passing ship. The settlement’s starship, the Bold Lady, should have been in orbit around the planet, but she was gone.

“Tac One, Liberty. Continue investigating. Watch yourself.” The Liberty was in orbit around Fortuna, all sensors on full alert. We sure hadn’t planned to come here, but we were itnobody else was in the vicinity. The Liberty was a star transport, not equipped for combat. The Tac Force was a single squad of Legion troopers, normally assigned to defend the ship, not to investigate planetary emergencies, but a ConFree settlement was evidently in trouble and had to be helped.

“Thinker, Priestess, see anything yet?” Priestess sounded calm.

“That’s a twelve, Priestess,” I replied. The Community Center appeared to be constructed of a lovely white stone. It almost gleamed under the slowly darkening sky. Priestess and I were just passengers, on our way to Veltros in the Crista Cluster when the emergency call had diverted our ship. As we were both experienced Legion vets, the squad leader welcomed our help.

“All right, we secure the targetmove out,” the squad leader ordered. We hustled into the grassy field that bordered the forest. I had an E battlefield superiority rifle set on auto x. We were all clad in topcom helmets and A-veststhe squad hadn’t even armored up. I considered that an error in judgment, but I wasn’t in charge. I ran to a wall of the Center and went to one knee, covering the others. In moments all the doorways were covered.

“BodyI’ve got a body,” one of the troopers reported. He was at the plaza in front of the wide main entrance, which gaped open.

“Stunstar, Five.” The squad’s Five fired into the entrance with his Manlink and a blinding, shattering blast shot debris out the door. The entry team rushed in. Priestess and I were on the outside, scanning the surroundings.

“More bodies. I’ve got damn!” The entry team was securing the interior as Priestess and I approached the body on the plaza. It was a male, clad in shorts and ammo vest. His head had been blown off and he lay in a sticky pool of blood. He wore scruffy combat boots. His dark skin was peppered with bloody wounds. The head had evidently been hit by x.

“What do you think?” Priestess asked me. Her lovely child’s face showed no trace of emotion. She was a Legion medic and had seen plenty of death.

“Need more help in here!” the young squad leader said throatily. “Auxiliaries, get in here!” That was us. Priestess and I entered the building, guns up.

More bodieslots of bodies. I froze, warily, taking it all in. The Community Center entry hall was a huge, welcoming area, flooded now in weak afternoon sunlight. The marbled floor was awash with blood. The interior walls were pocked with ugly scars from x and laser. And the bodies were everywhere. Frozen, stiff, grotesque copies of humans. The bodies were like houses from which the inhabitants had fled, and they were all splattered with blood. It was like a giant, barbaric meat market.

“Recording?” someone asked.

“Yeah,” someone else replied.

“Don’t touch anything. Get it all.”

“Right.” A female Outworlder was sprawled near the wall, soaked in blood. She had been stripped savagely, shreds of clothing still clinging to the body. It looked as if she had been raped by a gang of madmen. Her throat was slashed wide open, with such force that she had been nearly decapitated. A male lay nearby, his head chopped in two, grey brains splattered around him. They must have used an ax, to do that. His entire body was ripped with deep scarsone arm was almost chopped off. He looked like an Outworlder too. These were the settlersConFree nationals. Who had done this?

A great bloody tangled pile of body parts lay off to one side of the hall, males and females and childrenchildren! They had been blasted to mush with x. What a horrific visionthey were just massacred! Limbs, heads, torsos, were scattered in abandon. The floor was slick with bloody drag marks as if the bodies had been pulled from place to place. Opposite the giant pile of body parts, a group of young girls had met their fate. Now they were just bloody corpses, but I could tell they had once been lovely little angels. They had clearly been brutally raped and then frantically murdered, probably as their horrified parents watched from across the hall. Again, clothing had been savagely ripped off, throats were wildly slashed, heads were dangling from necks by a few bloody strands of flesh, and some heads had been completely smashed in, skulls crushed violently. What kind of mindless rage, what kind of insanity, was responsible for this obscene outrage against humanity?

“Camera,” I said. “Over here.” I pointed to a pool of blood, and the fellow who was doing the forensic recording came over. Outlined in the sticky, congealed blood was what looked like a huge footprint or paw print of something that was clearly not human.

“What in Deadman’s name “

“It’s not a dog,” Priestess said, contemplating the print.

“It’s more like an ape,” I said.

“But it’s not an ape either,” the squad leader said. “What kind of creature “

“Sir,” one of the troopies said. “It looks like some of these people were eaten. We’ve got teeth marks here.”

“Deto!” the squad leader cursed. “Liberty, we’ve got bodies, and we are investigating. Please ensure you record our transmissions. We’re not sure what we have, but it ain’t pretty.”

“Tac, Liberty. Tenners. We continue scanning, no life in your vicinity.”

“Tenners.” Priestess and I joined the trooper who had discovered the teeth marks. Bloody bones and flesh and viscera were strewn around several bodies that looked as if a pack of wild beasts had feasted on them, ripping off body parts and chewing on the limbs. There wasn’t much doubt about it. We found more of those awful paw prints. They were almost like a footprint, but shoeless, and the toes were long and separatedmore like a hand.

“One, Six, I’ve got oh, this is horrible. Outside.”

I located Six on the tacmap and headed out a far door. I never made it. Another trooper was standing by the door looking into an alcove. Three Outworlder children hung there from nooses wrapped around an overhead beam. Elementary kids, still wearing their school uniforms. Two boys, one girl. That image is burnt into my memory circuits for all time. Priestess was frozen beside me. My vision was going reda burning rage. I could taste it in my mouth.

“Cut them down,” I ordered the trooper.

Outside we followed the blood trails to another tangled pile of bodies. Here the intruders had set up a barbecue. A blood feast, I thought. The remains of that obscene feast were everywhere, scattered all over the field. There were plenty of human printscombat bootsbut also lots of those beast prints as well. Many of the bodies had been cooked, but others had been torn apart and consumed raw. One of our troopies was vomiting, off to the side.

“One,” I said to the squad leader, “we’ve had reports that the U’tal have produced man-ape transgens. The cannibalism appears to confirm it, but I’m sure we’ll find plenty of evidence before we’re through here. This is likely an U’tal raiding party from Asumara. I believe that body in the plaza was an U’tal mercenary. Could I see that settlement map?”

The squad leader opened up the silky color printmap of the settlement of Port Promise. It showed widely scattered pockets of settlers, in the forests, in the mountains, along the rivers. It was a friendly world, and newcomers built their homes wherever they wanted.

“We’ve got to visit every one of these sites,” I declared, “right now.” I was pretty sure what we’d findbut we had to confirm it.

“Thinker,” Priestess was on private to me. “Why do you think they hit a ConFree settlement?”

“Because they’re insane,” I responded.

“What do you think ConFree will do?”

“ConFree will talk about it. The U’tal had better worry about what the Legion will do.”

“What do you think the Legion will do?”

“I think we’ll strike at Asumara, incinerate it, and then send in ground troops to ensure there are no survivors. We’ll kill men, women, children, dogs, apeseverything that moves. When we’ve eradicated all life, we’ll leave.”

“The Legion won’t do that. Will it?”

“I don’t know. But I hope so. That’s what I’d do. Let’s get moving. We’ve got to visit every homesite on this planet.”

Chapter 2

The Supreme Commander

Rainy season on Veltros is quite an event. It washes away the drought in a single day, and floods the landscape with elemental force. Then it rains every day around noon and again just after dusk, for about half a year.

It was early evening and raining hard. I sat in a criminally comfortable airlounge on the covered terrace of my home as the rain battered the tangled vegetation of the fern forest outside. The roar of the rain was almost like a waterfall, heavy sheets of rain shooting off the roof, drumming off the dato leaves, drowning the trees, thundering into the ground, transforming the forest floor into a sea of red mud. A light, cool mist touched my face as a warm thrill tingled over my flesh. My cup of dox was forgotten, getting cold in the holder of the lounge’s armrest. RainI could watch it for hours, sitting there hypnotized, paralyzed with joy. Life’s simple pleasuresit didn’t get any better than this.

“You’re getting wet.” Priestess appeared suddenly out of the dark, just like a cat, dressed all in black, settling onto the armrest and sliding an arm around my shoulders. She leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“Where’ve you been?” I asked.

“Shopping. I went down to Greenway and bought some pies.”

“Pies?”

“Yeah. There’s this new place called Bake-A-Cake. I got trapped there when the rains opened up and I wound up buying the place out.”

“You shouldn’t have driven the aircar home in this rain. It’s dangerous.”

“It wasn’t that bad. The pies were warm; I wanted you to try them.” I looked up at her. She was so lovelyslim and young, silky black hair, warm chocolate eyes, a child’s face, untouched by cosmetics. I knew I didn’t deserve her. I blessed Deadman every day for giving her to me. I knew exactly what it meantI knew! I turned my face away. I didn’t want her to see the tears forming in my eyes.

“Come onI want you to try one of these pies, before it gets cold,” she said.

“All right.” Whatever she wants, I thought. That’s what I do, for our love.

“The lady who runs this shop is called Kate,” Priestess said, cutting me a piece of pie as we stood around the gleaming green marble of the center island in our giant kitchen. “She’s ex-Legion. Her lover was killed in action against the O’s on Uldo. She kept fighting, determined to kill as many O’s as possible, seeking death like well, like Valkyrie. Almost suicidal. Somehow she survived. Finally she quit the Legion. Now she bakes things. How is it?”

“Very good,” I replied. “A bit spicy. But a nice spicy.”

“Homemade,” Priestess said. “Of course, she doesn’t have to do this. She does it because she loves it. Aren’t they nice pies?”

“Very nice,” I smiled. It really was very tasty. It was pleasant, being a homeowner and experiencing all this domestic bliss. Priestess and I had designed the house ourselves. She’d wanted a big kitchen, and it was huge, with a giant sunny breakfast area and table surrounded by plex. I’d wanted a big den, with plenty of fancy comgear, and I got that. The house was hidden in the forest, accessible only by aircar, a lovely single-story home of artificial stone and fake wood, with a roof terrace up top. The stone was a very lightweight plastic and the wood was a synthetic cellulose, produced by cyanobacteria. Building a home was an easy matter, with modern technology. Assembly had taken two days, and the cost was minimal. The fellow who did it loved his work. Like Kate the pie girl, most of our people did things they loved to do, not that they had to do. ConFree had conquered material needs. The challenge nowadays was not to lose sight of the battle for survival, which could intrude in an instant if you stopped paying attention because you were rich and lazy.

“She thinks about him every day,” Priestess said. “Every single day.” Her eyes were gleamingfilling up with tears. Now what?

“Come here,” I said, taking her in my arms.

“I’m so happy,” she gasped, nestling her head on my shoulder. “Please don’t leave. Let’s stay here the rest of our lives!”

“We’re not going anywhere,” I said.

“Quit the Legion!” she hissed. “Just get out! You’re in danger every instant you stay on!”

“Calm down, Priestess. It’s all right.”

“It’s not all right! You were going to quit! We were both going to quitthat was the plan! And then you changed your mind!” She pulled away from me, swiping at hot tears with the back of her hand.

“We talked about this before, Priestess. They need experienced people, to teach the kids. That’s the only reason we stayed in. We agreed “

“They sweet-talked you! Appealing to your patriotism! They’re rats! We’ve got our own child! What about him?”

I drew her to me, gently. There was no sense in talking when she got this way. She came, reluctantly, then the dam broke and she cried a river, flinging both arms around my neck. Great, now it’s raining in here. She was right, of course. I was a damned fool. But I couldn’t help it. What had Valkyrie said? You’re a fool, Beta Three. You’re a fool, and a fanatic. She was right, too. The Legion needed people like me. Valkyrie knew mebetter than anyone else. She had been my first Legion lover, but she had lost her soul, somewhere along the way. It wasn’t easy in the Legionnot for anyone.

“How many more dead, Thinker? How many more?” Priestess demanded.

“None. No more! It stops here! We’re staying.”

What in Deadman’s name am I doing here, I thought. It’s all for Priestess. Nobody’s shooting at us here, what’s wrong with that? We’ve both put in our time in Hell. Don’t we deserve a little peace and quiet?

I stood in the doorway to his room, breathing in the calm warmth and the deep silence and the dark. Lester was asleep, a faintly luminous angel against the soft dark blanket pulled up to his chin. A pale angel, completely innocent, completely relaxed in sleep. A child, trusting and secure and totally defenseless. He was achingly beautifulsilky brown hair, mine, a fragile, finely chiseled face and tender small lips, his mother’s. And he had her eyes, deep liquid chocolate eyes, now closed in slumber. Half me and half her, just as I had promised, from that impossible past. This was it; this was what it was all about. This was what we had been fighting for. A glorious, awesomely beautiful childthe future of the race.

It was so quiet, so peaceful, so warm and cozy here in our own home that I could only hold my breath and savor the moment. How fortunate was he, how fortunate were we, for this perfect moment? And how long would it last? They taught history in ConFree. Real history, not myth and not lies. Every single school kid learned about our past. We had built our perfect worlds with blood and sacrifice. A lot of Legion soldiers had died to ensure Lester had a peaceful life. And he was going to learn that, as soon as he was old enough to understand. Ignorance was just as dangerous as evil.

I knew our happiness could end in a microfrac, if we ever really relaxed. All we could do was live for the present, and enjoy it while we could. And if anything or anyone threatened our sleeping children, we would strike without mercy at the enemy, all of us, united and resolute, and annihilate them from history. That was burnt right into my soul.

“ATTEN-SHUN!” A thousand new recruits snapped to attention on the parade ground. It was a bright, clear morning, still fresh from last night’s rain. The red dirt field had been ground to the consistency of metal by generations of troopers, but it was slick and wet from the last deluge. We instructors faced the kids. We were clad in black and they wore loose khaki fatigues, lined up in training squads, platoons and companies. Only the uniforms distinguished the two groups. We instructors were all immortals, kept young virtually forever by gene therapy to renew our cells and pump up our muscles. The difference was that the recruits really were young, still mortals, just out of midschool, and the instructors were oldereven though we didn’t look it. We had seen all we wanted to see of death and destruction, but that’s what we were going to teach.

“Welcome to Veltros Training Command!” the amps blasted the words over the assembled youth. “I am Commander Pietran Karel, C.O. of the Basic Training Course.” He stood with a brace of other officers off to my right. “My staff and I are charged with transforming you people into Legion troopers and we all take that responsibility very seriously! We expect you to take it seriously too “

As he droned on I looked over the kids. I’d be working with the 5th Training Company, consisting of ten squads divided into two platoons. A hundred recruits, ten to each training squad. It was my first assignment as an instructor and I was determined to pass on everything I’d learned. I knew they’d need it.

” you will not all make it through Basic! Those of you who do make the cut will move on to Advanced Combat Training on Planet Hell. You’ll be pleased to learn that we’ve returned the ACT to Planet Hell because we have more time now and it’s such a good training experience. There’s no need to worry about that right now. What you need to do right now is keep your mouth closed and your mind open!”

I remembered Planet Hell very well, but I hadn’t thought of it as a “good training experience” at the time. It had been more like a near death experience for me, I mused. The first two squads in the 5th were lined up abreast facing me. Kids, just out of school. What in Deadman’s name were they doing here? They were all volunteers. Everybody in the Legion was a volunteer. They knew exactly what they were doing. ConFree believed in the Truth. That’s what our proprop broadcast, all day and nightthe Truth, just as it was. You could watch Legion soldiers dying horribly on the news, every day. But you also knew why they were dying.

Young troopers, mostly male but plenty of females sprinkled among them as well. Nobody could stop a Legion volunteer. They were mostly Outworlders, pale skin and light eyes, but there were a lot of Assidics too, brown to golden skin and dark hair, slightly slanted dark eyes. Some of the Outworlders clearly had Assidic blood as well. Outworlders and Assidics were one people now, united against System slavery and tyranny. A few exotics stood out here and thereCyrillians with ebony skin, one big troopie who looked like he could be a Mocainit didn’t matter. We took everyone. You didn’t even have to be fully human. Anybody willing to bleed for ConFree was qualified.

The future of the race. That’s what I thought, looking over those kids. Where the hell do we get them? Our own children. They just keep coming. I knew as long as they kept coming, ConFree would prosper, and our civilization would live on. As soon as they stopped, we were doomed to extinction.

“Fotsee snow keen?” Lester asked, squirming in my arms and reaching for the snow cream. I pulled the cone out of his reach and then gave him a little dab on the nose. He laughed at the cold and smeared it over his face. Priestess and I were standing with a crowd of other people under the eaves of the Frosty Snow Cream shop in Greenway. It was early evening and a light rain cast a faint mist over us all. Frosty’s was lit up like a spaceport. It was crowded with sloppily dressed young people, shorts and sleeveless tops, elementary and midschool students, parents, gangly boys and adorable giggling young girls and even a few toddlers like Lester. One little kid had a balloon. Guys and girls were covertly casting glances at each other, the midschool kids inside the shop were chatting it up and dishing out snow cream creations and everyone was happy.

This is what life should be like, I thought. Everyone happy, and getting along. I knew most worlds weren’t like this. I had seen the difference. I had lived on Nimbos, a System world, exiled and psyched and powerless, where everyone was at each others’ throats, where the rats in charge had divided the population into different classes and races and religions and beliefs, where jealousy and hatred reigned supreme. A simple scene like this would be impossible there. There weren’t any snow cream shops on Nimbos, at least not for proles. And any public gathering would be infiltrated by pickpockets and informants, prostitutes and toms and bi’s, with human wolves circling the herd for women and children and the weak, and child racist gang members cursing and pushing everyone else aside, anxious for resistance. It wasn’t like that here. We were happy on ConFree worlds. We were one people, one language, one culture.

An insane chant echoed in my mind, a nightmare from my past:

Mine yours, yours mine

Good bad, bad good

White black, black white

Truth lies, lies Truth

Smart stupid, stupid smart

Beaootiful ug-ly, ug-ly beaootiful

Strong weak, weak strong

Knowledge ig-no-rance, ig-no-rance knowledge

Courage cowar-dice, cowar-dice courage

Wealth poverty, poverty wealth

Patriotism treason, treason patriotism

War peace, peace war

Victory defeat, defeat victory

Freedom slavery, slavery freedom!

Topsy-Turvy, it was calledan elementary school rhyme, for generations of doomed children. The System celebrated ignorance. They gloried in it. I shuddered. I knew exactly how real it was.

Priestess hung on one of my arms, lazily licking her snow cream as I held Lester with the other arm. I looked into his eyes. He gave me a big smile. What a lovely child. He was absolutely beautiful. What an amazing creature. Priestess had insisted on naming him Lesterthat was my civilian name, before I had joined the Legion.

“Thinker! What a mess! He’s going to be cold!” Priestess was wiping the cream from Lester’s face.

“He’s all right,” I protested. “A little snow cream won’t hurt him.” The rules had recently changed, and procreation was acceptable for active duty Legion troopers who were not in combat slots. Had that not happened, Priestess and I would both have quit the Legion. I had promised her a baby, and we were both in non-combat status after the mission to Eiros 4. After that one, neither of us had any desire to see any more dead peopleespecially ourselves.

And there we were. I was still alive, and I didn’t know why. Fate it must be fate. I sure didn’t plan to have three wives. Priestess was my first, and my eternal love. She’s a Legion girl and the only reason she puts up with the other two is that I’ve proven to herin bloodthat she means more to me than anyone else. Also I said I’d shoot myself in the head if she left me. Moontouch is my second wife, or maybe even my first, depending on how you count it. She’s a Taka princess, a stunningly lovely sorceress from Andrion 2. All she had to do was blink, and I was hers. She can see into the future and into the past, and what she sees is pretty scary. She gave me my first son, Stormdawn. I love them both, Moontouch and Stormdawn, and will love them forever. Storm is growing up now, a tall slim youth who will inherit Southmark and lift his race up from the dust. My third wife is my darling Millie, whom I met when she was a student nurse on Chudit, about a hundred thousand years in the past. I sure didn’t intend to get involved with her, but she saved the galaxy from the White Death, and it didn’t seem right to let her die, so I brought her back with me. She’s just a normal girlexcept for what happened between us. I promised I’d be there for her, and I am. I’m tied to her for life, that’s for sure. And I’m an immortal. So is she, by now.

After our last mission to Eiros 4, Priestess and Millie and Stormdawn and I had returned to Andrion 2 to live happily at Stonehall with Moontouch and the Taka. Priestess and Millie and I were employed at Alpha Station. It was an idyllic time. I spent my free time with the family while filling in my journals, writing up the past for the future. It’s something every citizen should do, if you’ve been directly involved in historical events. You can’t shape the future without understanding the past. That’s why the past is so damned important. I learned that from Beta OneSnow Leopard.

And then the Legion came to me and Priestess, pitching us to accept instructor positions on Veltros. It was hard to refuse an offer like that. It was important, even critical, work. Priestess didn’t trust themshe urged me to quit the Legion. However it was a non-combat assignment, on a lovely, peaceful world, and it also meant that the two of us would be alone, again. I think that’s what sold Priestess.

It was hard, leaving Moontouch and Stormdawn again, after all I’d been through to return to them. But Moontouch said she understood, and she didn’t seem worried this time. I didn’t dare ask her to read the future again. The last time what she had seen had been so horrific I didn’t want any further glimpses into the future. But those events were over, the galaxy had quieted down, and from her calm reaction I was pretty sure Priestess and I would be returning, alive and intact, to Andrion 2. That’s what I promised Moontouch.

Millie was by then a Legion medic assigned to the Body Shop in Alpha Station. I wasn’t anxious to leave her and our lovely baby girl Andrea. Andrea was a sweet little blonde angel, with a peaches and cream complexion and sparkling blue eyes. She was an ache in my heartI just loved her. My first daughter! It was hard, leaving them. I told myself and I told them that it wouldn’t be foreverjust for a few years.

When both the Pherdan Federation and the HyadFed collapsed after our attacks, the repercussions were all good. The System sued for peace, and offered concessions. ConFree agreed. We didn’t need any more suicide missions into the dead heart of the Inners, and the number of active hotspots eased off. That’s when they changed the rules about procreation, and people started to relax. Most of us had been fighting so long we were anxious to live a normal life. There was a population explosion among female Legion troopers. New life, for hopeful times. The biggest dragons had been slain. We deserved a little break. That was the thought.

“All right, you’re immortal!” Shorty’s amplified voice crashed over the assembled troopers like an electric wave. “What does it mean?” We were in our comfortable air-conditioned arena, all hundred recruits of the 5th Company sitting at their airchairs behind the edpanels, ignoring the dark d-screens, focusing on the speaker up front. I was observing, standing against the walls with several other instructors. I’d been told Shorty was an effective speaker. He was certainly an intimidating speaker. Shorty was gigantic, the tallest man in the arena.

“You’ve just taken the IG,” he continued. “It only took a few fracs, didn’t it? But it will change your life! It will extend your lifeindefinitely, as far as the lifies can tell. Your biological clock has been resetpermanently! The cycle of life and aging and death has been brokenthe aging and death part is gone! Your cells will regenerate themselves, indefinitely, young cells for oldit’s almost like some children’s fairy tale, only it’s real. It’s the fountain of youth, for us all, courtesy of ConFree’s unholy lifies, altering God’s master plan to benefit mankind’s selfish needs!”

He paused, bathing in the rapt attention of the hundred young recruits. “The Immortality Gene ensures you will remain young and strong and intelligentuntil your death. Yes, until your death! You won’t die of old age, of coursethat’s part of the history books, now. But the IG won’t protect you from a laser burst in the brain, or getting blown to bits by xmax or contac, or barbecued by starmass. Dead immortalsthere’s an endless list of them, on the Legion Monument to the Dead.

“Of course the Legion can do a lot to help you out, if you are seriously wounded. With stem cells, our lifies can grow or regenerate tissues and entire organs. Each cell will be from your own body. We can grow you a new arm, or leg, if you lose the original. We can grow it better, and stronger, than the original. Lose your spine? No problem. Intestines blown away? We can fix that. Eyes blasted to mush? We can grow new eyes. Lose your face? Surewe can even fix that annoying nose that you never liked, while we’re at it. All we ask is that you’re still alive when you arrive at triage. We can give you a new heart, a Legion heart, cold and pitilessit will beat flawlessly for a thousand years, or more.” He lowered his voice. “We can give you a new brain. That’s a little tricky, but it can be done.”

The arena was dead silent except for Shorty’s hypnotic voice. “Some Legion troopers are almost entirely artificial by now. You can generally tell them, by the eyes, and what they say. Quite a few of your instructors have biogenned limbs and organs, but we’re relatively young. Most of what we say should make sense to you. That’s why we’re instructors.” A wave of nervous laughter rippled over the arena.

I focused on a couple of recruits in the third row, a tall lanky young Outworlder male with a buzz haircut, and a lovely slim redheaded female beside him. They were both staring at Shorty intently, almost as if hypnotized. They both appeared to be stunned and amazed at what he was saying. The girl was scribbling nonstop on a notescreen. Our recruits were normally very enthusiastic about the Legion, and were anxious to learn all they could.

“As you know, ConFree has made the IG available to all ConFree citizens and civilians, upon graduating midschool and coming of age,” Shorty said. “Anyone who wants it can get it. You’ve all read about the political history of this decision. The ConFree authorities do what they’re ordered to doby the citizens. ConFree is the first stellar government to make the IG available to the people. The System and the gaggle of states that have succeeded it have never made that decision. Most of their people are still mortals, although the ruling classes don’t seem to have any disagreement about using IG technology on themselves. We view that as a crime against humanitybut that’s not our business.

“Our business is defending the people of the Confederation of Free Worlds against all enemies, foreign and domestic. And you’re the ones who are going to do it. When you graduate as Legion troopers, you are going to be physically and mentally fit to do so. We’ll pump your muscles up with gene therapy and build your endurance to the max. We’ll fill your brains with everything you need to know all day during class and all night with sleep-ed. You’ll learn everything you need to know about our people, our enemies, your mission, and all the weapons and technology available to you to accomplish the mission.”

The two kids I had been watching were almost trembling with excitement. I remembered when I had gone through Basicit seemed like a distant dream now, but I had been just as excited as these two. The redhead was a real honey, I noted. If I had been sitting next to her I’d be paying more attention to her than to Shorty. But the male just continued gaping at Shorty.

“Immortality is only one facet of this. Just remember it’s a double-edged sword. One edge is immortality, the other is death. The Legion offers both life and death. If you manage to cheat death, you’ll leave the Legion as a citizen, and you’ll have the respect of everyone in ConFree. You’ll also have great responsibility in making decisions about the future for ConFree and all its people. Your stay-at-home civilian cousins may be immortal, but they don’t know about death and they don’t know about responsibility. The protected have a comfortable life, but they don’t really know about life. Only when you risk it, do you fully understand what it means. That’s all! Take ten and return here on time!”

“Blood Lotus Crush, from Guarados, sir,” the little waitress said, expertly positioning the wicker-covered silvery dox gourd on my left and the little dox cup to my right. “An excellent choice.” She smiled and drifted away as I activated the gourd’s heating unit. An expensive choice, I thoughtit had better be excellent! Priestess would never have let me spend this much on a couple of cups of dox, even Guarados Blood Lotus, but Priestess was shopping at the Fleetcom Commissary and likely spending a lot more than I was. I hate shopping, and I’ll admit I’m a dox freak, and can never resist a new and exotic dox. Even if it is ridiculously expensive.

We had parked the aircar at the commissary several ringroads away and I had walked to this quiet dox shop, Taste Test , prepared for a long wait for Priestess. Like most females, she goes into a trance the instant she steps into the commissary. I was in camfax fatigues, completely relaxed. It was a lovely place, I had to admit, luxuriously appointed in Spartan mod, open to the hazy morning sunlight and a faint cool breeze. It had a spectacular view of midtown Providence. We didn’t get into town that much. We were both busy with the training course, and Priestess was helping out at the Body Shop as well.

Providence didn’t look like most towns. It was very much a Legion town, established originally to support the Legion Basic Training course. Midtown was more like a park than a citya series of wide concentric circular pedestrian roads, lined with trees and low-rise white stone buildings, radiating outwards from an open central park with a delicately carved fountain of white marble shooting a great jet of water straight up to dissolve into mist and gently cool the park. Quite a viewit always calmed me down.

The dox was excellent, as promised, smooth and silky with a tingly, musky exotic tang and a soft buzz aftertaste. I pondered the view. The tall fountain and pool was surrounded by groves of trees, green and gold and rusty red. People strolled lazily through the park, looking up at the water jet and laughing as the mist settled down around them. It was Offday and even the Legion was at lowered alert. Offday was a new concept for the Legion, but it was well established on Veltros, and even the worst Legion hardasses welcomed a little time off.

The park was circular and fronted by many attractive low-rise stone buildings. Many of them were public buildings but others were commercial establishments, restaurants and hotels and shops. All the buildings were constructed of an artificial white stone, delicately carved, many of them open to the sunlight, and none taller than four stories. Aircars were not permitted in midtown, so a lot of people had air effects carts floating along beside them for packages and kids. The ring roads, connecting roads and individual buildings were flanked by trees and flowers. Statuary was scattered around the park, fronting many of the buildings.

Hqs was to my left, distinguishable by the bold Legion cross carved into the fake stone, and the words:

PROVIDENCE

CONFREE LEGION TRAINING COMMAND

VELTROS BASIC TRAINING.

This was the training facility for all new Legion recruits, for all of ConFree. In front of Hqs, up on an imposing pedestal, was a larger than life, full color statue of three Legion soldiers in black A-suits, hauling E’s, prepared to engage the enemy. The word WAR was carved into the pedestal. I guess that said it all. I didn’t really spend that much time in Hqs. The actual training facility was a few K out of town.

I took another sip of that heavenly dox. Next to the Legion Hqs was another almost identical building, quite beautiful, and I could read the inscription: COUNCIL OF CITIZENS. They had a statue toothe Goddess of Liberty, raising a flaming torch on high with her left hand while clutching a huge sword with her right. The pedestal read LIBERTY. That statue was Veltros’s symbol and well known throughout ConFree. The ConFree flag flew from a tall flagpole before the pedestal.

Most of the ConFree Ministries were represented thereEDUCATION, a statue of a longhaired goddess holding a large book, an E strapped to her chest, leading a little boy and girl into the future. Barely visible through the trees was the Ministry of Science, with a statue of a gang of young techs, male and female, looking up to the sky, hands raised as if appealing to the Gods. The techs were at least not carrying E’s although the fruits of their labor were a lot more deadly than any E. The inscription read SCIENCE.

The Ministry of Justice building was hidden behind the trees but I could see the statuea fearsome Angel of Death, tearing off her blindfold and raising a gleaming silvery sword, glaring at everyone, over the inscription JUSTICE. Yes, we should all fear justice. Especially lawyers. Fortunately, they were an endangered species here in ConFree. A pair of Military Police stood in the shadow of the statue and chatted. Every once in awhile they stopped troopers in uniform to confirm that they were armed. I guess ConFree was an unusual society. Under the System it was illegal to be armed, even with a knife. Here it was mandatory. You could get into trouble for not being armed. I always carried a little vac gun in a fatigue pocket. The idea was to always be ready for an emergency, even in the most unlikely placeslike Providence.

The Monument to the Dead had its own building as well. I always thought of it as a chapel for soldiers without souls. There was no statue outside, just a pedestal with a black inset displaying a moving, silvery textthe eternal list of everyone who had died in service. And the word FAITH.

“Enjoying your Offday?” I looked up. It was one of those front office lemmings, what was his name? Tracker, that was it. He was a young Outworlder, blue eyes, sandy hair, in formal black, hovering by my table as if trying to decide whether or not to sit down. Just what I needed.

“Hello, Tracker. Fancy meeting you here.” I don’t think I had ever seen him in fatigues. My impression of him was that he was a bureaucrat, not a soldier. He was a careerist, poised at all times to advance his own interests. He spent most of his time in the front office hobnobbing with the elite, although that was not his assignment. He was an admin bodypersonnel chief for BT instructors.

“Oh, just doing a dox run,” he said. “Pietran had a fit about the cafeteria dox-water, as he called it, so I’m going to shut him up with something really good. What’s that you’re drinking? Deadman, Blood Lotus Crush? Are we paying you enough to afford that? I’m going to have to look into your salary.” He laughed.

“It’s not bad,” I replied. “Give Pietran my love.” Pietran Karel was the Course C.O. He was a good man and I doubt he regarded Tracker highly. But what did I know? I just carried an E. I turned back to my dox. Tracker hesitated.

“Are you coming in tomorrow?” he asked. He knew damned well I was coming in tomorrow. He just wanted to emphasize that he was working, and I was not.

“I’ll be there.” Disappear, will you, I thought.

“See you then!” He headed for the take-out counter. Well, I reflected, I didn’t really carry an E anymore, although my character was certainly shaped by that experience. I had met a lot of people like Tracker since changing my milspec to Admin. I had done that because I was tired of people trying to kill me. But, thinking back, I had not met many people like him when I was milspec Unrestricted, a combat soldier, fighting O’s and Systies. All my close friends, my blood brothers and sisters, had been made then. Many of them were now deadbut they were still close to my heart. Tracker was nothing, not even worth thinking about. He could change my life in an instant with a random personnel action, but I couldn’t do anything about that.

I didn’t have anything against Tracker, I reflected. He would probably go far in his Legion career. But I thought he represented everything that was wrong with the upper levels of both ConFree and the Legion. ConFree and the Legion were led by aggressive, highly motivated over-achievers. Some of them were careerist bureaucrats likeTracker, travelling in packs with like-minded colleagues, sticking to the office and avoiding the front. And some were soldiers and fanatics like Snow Leopard or Dragon or Tara, often out on their own, usually in perilous circumstances. Some would rise because of their interpersonal skills and some would rise because of their achievements. There was a natural friction between the two groups and when the bureaucrats triumphed over the soldiers, ConFree ran into serious trouble. We had almost lost ConFree the last time that happened, but the Lost Command had pulled us back from the brink. I guess it meant there were still some serious problems with our governmental structure. But what can you do? All government is intrinsically eviland all you can do is use it, control it, and fight it.

The past was always with me. I was not sure if thinking about Snow Leopard, Dragon, and Tara was good for me or not. But it couldn’t be avoided, even in this idyllic place. Snow Leopard was a white ghost, an immortal warrior, my first squad leader and the bravest man I ever met. Dragon was a tattooed terror, a born killer, and the most skilled tac man I knew. We had been through a lot together and we were bonded for life. And Tarashe was a psycher, another doomed fanatic from my distant past. She was my evil twin. All three of them were still alive, despite all we’d been through. And so was I, and Priestess. It was a cosmic miracle.

I tried to clear my mind, sipping at the dox. A group of children were running through the park, their laughter barely audible, carried by a light breeze. I had seldom heard anything more wonderful. My comset buzzed.

“Thinker,” I responded.

“Thinker, it’s me,” Priestess said. “They’ve got some beautiful new armorite combat boots here, fully powered and aircushioned. These are the very latest, from Tacman. What’s your size, I always forget?”

“I don’t need new combat boots, Priestess. My old ones are fine.” I glanced down at my boots, worn almost white. They were old friends and fit perfectly.

“Your boots are falling apart, Thinker! You really need new boots!”

“No boots, Priestess. You want to buy me footwear? Get me some house slippers. Something soft and fluffy, maybe with a bunny rabbit on the end. But get it in blue, not pink. I wouldn’t want to wear something effeminate.”

“Oh, you’re impossible! I can never buy anything for you. Come on, what’s your size?”

“I’m not telling. You just call me when you’re through, tenners?”

“You’ll love the boots, Thinker. Tenners, I’ll call you. Ta.”

Combat boots, I thought. Well here’s hoping I don’t need them anymore, new or old. Bunny slippersthat’s what I really need.

“That’s the shuttle from the Liberty,” I declared. Priestess and I watched it approach from the observation deck of the Providence starport terminal. Lester was in Priestess’s arms and he was wrapping his little hands around her hair, blinking in the sunlight. The shuttle had already glided in from the approach path and now it was floating lightly towards us, raising a giant cloud of spray from the wet field. She was a lovely silver ship, clad in sunlight, a gigantic blunt delta, surely indestructible, lined with little rectangular ports for the passengers to see out. A black Legion cross adorned her tail. Ours , I thought.

The noise slowly faded as the shuttle touched down and the stairmod slid up against the fuselage and locked into place. The passenger door popped open.

“Tarshit,” Lester said, gazing wide-eyed at that huge metal bird.

“That’s tarship, Lester,” I replied. “Let’s get down there, Priestess, they’re coming out.”

We spotted her as soon as we arrived in the passenger lounge. A tall, somewhat lanky dark-haired girl, squinting in the sunlight outside, then stepping into the shade of the terminal, cradling a little golden-haired toddler in her arms.

“Millie!” I called out, “Welcome to Providence!” She flashed me a smile of such loving intensity that my knees weakened as I embraced her and the little girl. It felt so damned good to have her heart beating against mine, again. Her scentI had almost forgotten that elusive, airy perfume. My heart was pounding. She looked right into my eyes and said not a word, but she didn’t have to. That look told me everything. Too longit had been far too long.

“Daddy!” the little angel reached out her arms for me and I snatched her up and held her close. Deadman, I had missed them so!

“Hi, Millie.” Priestess appeared by my side, still holding Lester in her arms.

“Priestess!” Millie disengaged from me and reached out for Priestess. The two of them came together like lovers, cheek to cheek. Lester grabbed Millie by the hair. Priestess laughed, pulling Lester’s hands away.

“You’re looking good, Millie,” Priestess said. “And Andrea’s growing fast.”

“Lester’s so big I hardly recognized him,” Millie replied.

“Let’s get your bags,” I said. The shuttle had pretty much emptied; there were only a few stragglers with us in the lounge.

“It’s good of you to meet us,” Millie said, as we strolled to the baggage mod. I was still holding Andrea. She was an angelstraight from Heaven, blinking her lovely blue eyes right at me, looking right into my soul.

“Well, of course we’re going to meet you, Millie,” Priestess said. “Why wouldn’t we meet you?” Naturally I worried when I heard Millie had succeeded in getting her transfer to the Body Shop in Veltros. I wanted to see her, sure, but I was worried about Priestess. I knew Priestess preferred having me to herself, and I suspected that was the main reason she agreed to come with me to Veltros in the first place. I couldn’t blame her. I’ve never been a great believer in polygamy and I sure didn’t plan it this way. But it happened anyway. We were all thrown together, by the gods. Sure, I was worried.

“That’s mine,” Millie said, reaching out to recover her bag.

“Our aircar is outside,” Priestess said. “Your room’s all set. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“Oh!” Millie exclaimed. She seemed a little flustered, a little distracted, fooling with her bag. “You don’t have to do that. I mean, thanks, but you don’t have to do that. The hospital has reserved me quarters in the nurse’s dorm. It’ll be fine.” Priestess just stared at her coldly. Oh no, I thought. Oh no.

“Thinker, can you take Lester, please?” Priestess asked. I took him from her arms. Now I had two of them, Lester and Andrea. They were holding hands in no time, but I wasn’t paying attention to them.

“Why don’t you want to stay with us?” Priestess asked.

“It’s not that I don’t want to stay with you,” Millie replied quickly. She was pale and uneasy. “I appreciate the invitation. It’s just it’s just I don’t I don’t want to bother you.”

Priestess stepped up to her and embraced her, crushing Millie in her arms. “We want you to stay with us, forever,” she hissed in Millie’s ear. “We both want you to stay with us.” They stood there, locked together, and when Priestess finally pulled away Millie was crying. “Now stop being silly,” Priestess said. “The car is right outside!”

I thanked Deadman. I guess I should have known better than to worry about Priestess. We have an unusual occupation, and people become very close in the Legion. Millie had saved my life, and Stormdawn’s toonursing us both back to health after the suicide mission to Eiros 4. KCA himself had stabbed me right in the heartbut by then the heart was my least vulnerable part. Priestess was on that mission and she almost died, too. I guess you could say we were one. A lot of the small stuff fades away when you confront death, together, and survive.

“At ease!” I ordered, and the troopers resumed their seats in the arena. They always stood at attention when we instructors entered the arena. I was behind the lectern. Today was my first lecture, and I knew the subject well. I slammed the butt of the E onto the lectern.

“This is the E Mark 3. This weapon is to become an extension of your body and your brain. You will learn this weapon, and all its capabilities. You will love this weapon.” I was in my blacks. Instructors wore no rank insignia in Basic. All we wore was the combat cross, a low-key silver insignia on the left breast. It said all we wanted to say. The recruits didn’t know our ranks, and didn’t know our names. But they knew we’d been in combat. I held the E up.

“The E Mark 3 is the standard individual weapon of the Legion trooper. This compact, shoulder-fired tube-fed electronic general-purpose battlefield superiority rifle is equipped with a zoom scope, laser sights, darksight and flash, multiple barrels firing standard xmax, xmin, fighting laser, v-max, v-min, biobloc, canister and biodee. Max effective range is 2,500 mikes for x and 4,000 mikes for laser. It is equipped with a grenade launcher for contac, smoke, gas and biobloc grenades and ports for flame and flares.

“The miniature caseless armor-piercing explosive xtex rounds are fired electronically with a full auto rate of 2,000 rounds per frac or 100,000 per mark. The weapon has no moving parts except for the rounds themselves and the xtex generator that creates and feeds the rounds into the firing tube. X, laser and vac capabilities are integral to the weapon; the other rounds require replenishment of ampacks.” I lowered the E.

“See your Weapons Manual to review the specs. There will be an initial graded review this evening. Please notethe high rate of fire is normally not necessary. The E is fully integrated with your tacmod. It provides one-round hits on all targets.”

I looked over the class. They were all paying attention. “The E is rugged and reliable. The E is your best friend. And it’s the best weapon in the galaxy. She’s a beautiful, nasty, sweet black bitch, and she’ll be in your arms, in the valley of the shadow of death. She’ll keep you alive. She’ll be faithful to you. She’ll walk with you all day and sleep with you all night. She’s got superhuman eyes and ears and a fatal touch. She’s a cursed, holy bitch; she’s your love slave. And when we issue you this weapon you’ll be married, for life. She’ll be your slave, and you’ll be hers. We expect you to fall in love with her. Don’t be surprised when you do.”

“Cake!” LiLo cheerily announced, appearing with a big tray of vanilla layer cake and setting it on the table. LiLo was a gangly little girl, just a kid who looked like she should have been getting set to enter midschool. She was serving us dox and dessert up on the roof terrace. I loved it up therethe roof terrace had been my idea. We had set up a few rainproof tables and chairs out there. Priestess and Millie were lazily sipping dox and looking over printouts of the Providence Volunteer, while the kids were playing on the floor with toys and dolls as the sun slowly headed for the horizon.

“She’s so informal,” Priestess complained. “Cake! This isn’t a Legion mess hall. You’re too easy on her, Thinker.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” LiLo said. She looked a little hurt.

“Lighten up, Priestess,” I said softly. “She’s been doing a good job, hasn’t she?”

“I suppose so,” Priestess said, taking a sip of dox. “It’s just oh, nothing.” I knew the problem. Priestess was jealous of any female within my range. That was the problem. But she sure didn’t need to be jealous of LiLo.

“I’ll do better, ma’am,” LiLo promised.

“You’re doing fine, LiLo. Watch over the kids, will you?”

“Yes ma’am.” She served the cakes and then joined the kids. They loved her, and she loved themshe’d play with them all day if we let her.

I stood by the balustrade sipping dox. What a view! We were surrounded by the forest, a tangled, leafy canopy of green and black speckled with brilliant scarlet and golden flowers. Cave Rock Lake glittered in the sun off to the south, a sheet of silvery metal. The Mountains of Lost Dreams rose along the western horizon, jagged lines of violet ridges topped by snowy peaks. The air was clean and cool. The sky was darkeningmore rain was on the way.

“Have some cake, Westo,” Millie said. To her, I was Westo, still and forever. I didn’t mind, and even Priestess was used to it by now. “You love it here, don’t you?” Millie asked me.

“Is it that obvious? Yes, I sure do.”

“We both love it here,” Priestess said, looking up from her dox. “It’s a Legion worldit’s perfect. And it grows on you. It’s peacefuland quiet.”

“It reminds me a little of Rima,” Millie said. “It was quiet there, too until Westo showed up.” She smiled sadly. Rima 2 was Millie’s own lost world. It was gone now, snuffed out by history and by the past.

A burst of laughter from Lester and Andrea. LiLo was playing horsey, on her knees, and the kids were climbing onto her back. I felt good about LiLo. She was just delightfula sweet little girl with skinny limbs, a lightly freckled face, a little snub nose, green eyes, brownish hair set in two little pigtails, and an impish smile. She was all arms and legs, clad in faded shorts and a sleeveless top. She cleaned the house, took care of the kids, did the cooking, served table, got the dishes and laundry done, worked in the garden, and did everything else that needed doing. She never complained, never got tired, never asked for a day off, and didn’t need a salary.

“LiLo, come over here, please,” I said. Priestess and I were still at the table, working on the remains of the dox and the cakes. Millie had gone downstairs with Andrea. Lester was fooling with a holo starship.

“Yes sir?” LiLo asked. I never liked the ‘yes sir’ stuff, but Priestess insisted.

“Are you happy here, LiLo?” I asked.

“Oh yes sir!” Her eyes widened in alarm. “I’m very happy.”

“Do you like your duties? Are there any problems?”

“No sir! No problems!” She seemed very concerned. “Have I done something wrong, sir?”

“Nothing wrong, LiLo,” I replied, smiling. “Madame and I think you’re a good worker. We’re pleased with your performance. We’re thinking of purchasing youpermanently.”

“Oh! Yes sir!” She seemed stunned.

“It’s a big decision for us, LiLo. Renting is affordable and reversible. If it doesn’t work out, you go back to the dealer. But purchasing is expensive and permanent.”

“Yes sir!”

“You know why we’re thinking of this? Because we like you. Isn’t that right, Priestess?”

“That’s right, LiLo,” Priestess assured her. “We do like you. You’re so good with the kids. And you’re so nice. I know I may seem strict sometimes, but we both like youa lot. That’s the truth.”

“In the old days you wouldn’t even be consulted, LiLo. But times are changing. We want your wholehearted agreement, before we do this. If for any reason you don’t want permanent employment here, let us know, now, and we won’t do it. What do you say?”

“Sir! I’m very happy here! I’d love to staypermanently. I love the children. II love the family. II hope you will accept me.”

“Well that’s great.” I gave her a big smile. “Welcome to the family.”

“I hope we’re doing the right thing,” Priestess said. The sky was darkening. It would rain soon. LiLo had gone downstairs with Lester.

“We can afford it,” I said. “And as for LiLoshe’s perfect.”

“But what do we do when the kids grow up? LiLo isn’t going to grow up, is she?”

“She’s set to maintain her current age,” I said, “but that’s not a problem. Once the kids start approaching her age, we bring her back to the factory and they’ll reset the growth hormones. Biogens can be any age you want. And they’re not set in stone. So she can stay a few years ahead of the kidslike an elder sister.”

“Thinker, I’ll admit it’s very convenient having LiLo around. And I like it. She’s kind of like a daughterand she’s so sweet. I’d like her to stay with us permanently. But I feel veryveryuneasy about this.”

“Yeah?”

“That’s right! Now why don’t you just tell me what’s the difference between this and slavery?”

“LiLo is not human,” I insisted. “She’s a biogena genetically grown, artificial robot.”

“No she’s not! She’s not a robot! You know better than that!”

“All right, she’s an artificial human.”

“And what have they just discovered about those 100 percent genuine, fully mature human brain cells that they cultivate, and with which the latest generation of biogens is equipped?”

“Self-aware,” I sighed. “They’ve become self-aware.”

“Self-aware, sentient artificial humans, that’s what they are. And what does the Legion do with slavers?”

“We kill them, without mercy.”

“Exactly! That’s what ConFree is all about, isn’t it? Freedom, and the violent eradication of slavery! So what in Deadman’s name are we doing with these biogens, Thinker?”

“We’re living in an age of crisis, Priestess, a fault line between the past and the future. The top minds of ConFree are struggling with this issue, and a whole lot of other critical issues, at this very moment. Better minds than us. Biogens were robots, at firstjust tools, to be used. You didn’t have to be polite to them, or treat them well. You don’t have to be polite to your washing machine. But now it’s different. It’s hard to say they’re not human now. It’s true, they’re programmed, butwell, I agree with you, this biogen business is very troubling to me as well. And I don’t think ConFree has any choice. We’ve got to change the rules, and quickly. We’re getting fat and lazyand too damned dependant on biogens. ConFree wasn’t created by people with servants.”

“And we’re about to blow a large portion of our life’s savings on LiLo? Something that may be illegal in a few years?”

“We can’t see the future, Priestess. We’re going to have to treat her as a human, not as a washing machine. A salarytime offgive her a real lifeall of that. If we’re good to her, she’ll remain faithful to usno matter what happens.”

“Until they execute us for slavery?”

“Lighten up, Priestess. Please. We both agreed we’re very fond of her, and don’t want to lose her. She’s a doll, isn’t she?”

“Yes. She’s like part of the family now.”

“And you’re still insisting on this ‘yes sir’ business, and I’m calling you ‘Madame’. It’s stupid! That’s not usI feel like a fool. If she’s going to really be part of the family we have to change the way we treat her.”

“YesI suppose. I suppose you’re right.”

A crack of thunder announced the rain. The dark sky opened up, pelting us with heavy drops. We scrambled to get indoors.

“The situation in the galaxy has developed very favorably for ConFreeand for humanityin the last few years,” I declared. We were once more in the arena, only this time the vast hall was darkened, and a stunning vista of the Orion Arm sparkled overhead, revealing our own little slice of the galaxy, in all its glory. The stars and clusters were color-coded to show political affiliation and the more important features were labelled, silvery text glowing in the vac. I was doing the polsit brief. I knew it by heart. I flashed my green laser pointer over to the Outvac.

“Here’s our homeThe Crista Cluster is right here, on the edge of the Outvac, among these young stars, and over there is Andrion and Dindabai, on the other side of this mostly empty bubble of vac, blown into the fabric of spacetime by some ancient catastrophe. We’re 1,400 light years from Sol, the heart of the Inners. Our own situation is all good. We no longer face the System, the monolithic slave state that occupied the Inners; the Gulf and the Gassies and threatened to occupy us as well. The United System Alliance still exists, but it’s greatly reduced in extent and it’s now facing so many internal problems that it is no longer a credible threat to ConFree.” I darted the laser over to the Gassies.

“All right, let’s start here, along the Gassies frontier. Within this massive region of dark molecular clouds, we find Coldmark and Pherdos and a little further towards the Inners we’ve got Katag. These are the primary worlds of the Pherdan Federation. Coldmark and Pherdos were USICOM worlds, Katag was full System. All three broke away from the System to form the Pherdan Federation when the opportunity arose. As it happens, I’ve visited all three of these worlds. They’re all still slave statesvery depressing places. The Pherdans tangled with the Legion not too long ago and lost. I don’t think they’re anxious for a rematch.”

I paused, involuntarily. Pherdos. It was like a curse. How do I explain Pherdos? Do I even try? “We lost a lot of good troopers there,” I added. My voice was a little husky. Get a grip, Thinker!

“A little further into the Gassies out here are two former System worlds, Uldo and Mongera, both soaked in Legion blood,” I continued. “Mongera is currently occupied by the O’s. Uldo is where the Legion intervened successfully to stop the O’s advance. It is currently under martial law, although we plan to withdraw when the time is right. Mongera is a worrythe closest world held by the O’s.” A good summary, right? What else could I say? The ghosts of my dead comrades were swirling around me, floating past the lectern. I lost some of my closest friends on Mongera, and Uldo.

“It sounds like history, doesn’t it?” I asked. “Well it’s not just history. Many of your instructors served in Mongera and Uldo. We’ll never forget it. You’ll be fighting in places like that. And some of you may die there. Pay close attention to everything we’re teaching you. We want you to survive.”

I took a deep breath. “Moving further along the Gassies frontier we pass Galgos, an unaligned world that has maintained its independence from the Systies and formed a close economic relationship with ConFree. This sector also has Alshana, which was once used as a refuge by privateers. The Legion cleansed it, and it is no longer a threat to its neighbors.” Final problem, I thought. Alshana had been our final problem, where Squad Beta graduated ACT right after Planet Hell. And as for GalgosI had gone to school there, I had met Tara there. Hot memories arose, but I focused on the artificial stars above me.

“We now leave the Gassies and enter the Gulf,” I said. “The System has been driven entirely from the Gulf as its subject peoples threw off their chains or, in many cases, switched chains as new oppressors took over.” The recruits were all quiet. They weren’t expected or encouraged to ask questions at this point. They were supposed to listen, and learn. Questions would come later. I spotted the lanky trooper with the buzz haircut, and the sultry redheaded girl beside him. They were both paying attention. Good! I didn’t even know their names but that was not important at this stage.

“Now we approach the Gulf Union, just past the frontier and the closest threat in spacetime to ConFree. To one side of the Cali Nebula we find a host of worlds that include Yida and Nimbos. They were once loyal slave states to the System. They’re still slave states, but no longer loyal. They retain a quite respectable star fleet, confiscated from the System, and considerable military potential, and have no desire to improve relations with ConFree. However they’re certainly no military match for us.” Nimbosnightmares arose when I even thought about it. Nimbos had been my exile, where I had been psyched and trapped and powerlessa slave of the System. And Yida had been where we had found Dragon, in his own hopeless exile. I had been to too many worlds, I thought, and each was a heartache.

“A little further into this molecular cloud, still in the Gulf, we find Tanami and Sirrah,” I continued. “Tanami is a nonaligned religious world that just wants to be left alone. That hasn’t happened so far. Sirrah was a USICOM world that declared independence from the System. Even further toward the Inners we find Santos and Asumara. Both were System worlds, both are now in the hands of local tyrants. Asumara has fallen to a religious cult that features cannibalism, human sacrifice, religious fascism and slavery. The way things are going, I’d advise you all to read up on Asumara.

“Speaking of local tyrants, our last stop in the Gulf is the Pegal Stelcom. The People’s Egalitarian Stellar Commune is a vicious totalitarian slave state run by insane political psychopaths. The primary worlds are Angaroth and Kotazh.”

I paused, looking the kids over. “That’s it, for the closest threats. The galaxy is in a state of flux. The United System Alliance still exists, but it is a collapsing empire. Empires always collapse. It’s an iron law of history. Looking at the Inners, we find Sol, Centauri, Alphard, Luyten, Sirius, Cyrillia, Aldebaran, Vega, Dardos, Capella, Orm and Spartos still in Systie handsand a whole lot of others. The control is, in some cases, rather shaky. There’s a very nasty civil war underway on Cyrillia. A little further in the direction of the Gassies, you can see Ardoth, Calgoran and Monaro are also still under System rule. Monaro is the closest major System world to usit’s in the Gassies.

“The System still rules over incalculable resources and billions of peoplebut the heart has been torn out of the empire. When the Hyades Federation broke away, the System lost Elidos, the Hyades Cluster, and the Pleiades. DemFedthe Democratic People’s Federation of Loyalist Worldsdidn’t stay loyal very long. They were initially allied with the System but we didn’t appreciate their efforts at biological warfare against us and we hit them hard. The Pleiades then broke away and is now the Pleiades Association. They want friendly relations with us. The Hyades Federation now includes the Hyades Cluster and Elidos, but the Biogen Liberation Front has a serious insurgency underway on one Hyades world and it seems to be spreading to the others. You seethey can’t even depend on their own biogens any more!

“Lastly, we have the Dark Cloud Alliance, consisting of Berichros, Picos and other ex-Systie worlds in that sector. There’s some signs of actual reforms therenobody liked the System. As for the Omnis, our most powerful potential adversary, they’ve halted their advance, and we’re not sure what their next move will be. They still hold Mongera, in the Gassiesthat’s the closest Omni world to us.

“That’s the sitrep for now. The current situation in the galaxy is a very rare opportunity for us. It’s up to ConFree to exploit this situation correctly to benefit our people. But you can bet you’ll be part of the solution.”

I paused, looking the kids over. They were watching me intently, determined to get it all, to succeed in this dangerous new phase of their lives, to persevere over all obstacles and emerge as soldiers of the Legion and, ultimately, as ConFree citizens.

“ConFree’s command structure is working on new policies that will meet the unique, unprecedented challenges that we now face,” I said. “The Supreme Commander will not tolerate failure. Neither will any of your instructors.” I let that sink in for a few fracs.

“Would you like to see the Supreme Commander?” I asked. There was only silence from the recruits, but I touched a control tab and a huge holo popped to life above my head, covering the entire wall. It showed an Outworlder female, quite attractive, chestnut hair, hazel eyes, smiling for the holo, surrounded by three little kids, two girls and a boy, all grinning wildly.

“That’s the Supreme Commander,” I said. “We all report to her. It’s funny, but she doesn’t care a damn about politics. She also knows nothing about history. As a matter of fact, she’s just a housewife. You know what she does? She makes dinner for her children, and kisses them good night. That’s what she does. If you look at any chain of command, for the Legion, or ConFree, you’ll find her right at the topin the little box marked ‘Citizens of ConFree’ along with every other ConFree national.. She’s the Supreme Commander. She is why we fight. And, you know, it’s not just her. There are a lot of Supreme Commandersbillions of them, actually.” I hit another tab and the holo changed, then changed again, and again. More families, more women and kids, Outworlders, Assidics, Cyrilliansthe holos blurred as they flashed on the screen in rapid succession.

“That’s what it’s all about,” I said. “Women and kids. You work for them, and you’re at the very bottom of the chain of command. Don’t ever forget it! All right, take ten and be back on time. See the manualthere’ll be a graded review this evening.”

Chapter 3

Eyes to See, and Ears to Hear

And I thought it was over. Deadmanwhat a fool. I thought I could go home, live with my family, have a peaceful life. Fool! It will never be over for me. I’m branded for life. What was it Tara said? They cut the cross of the Legion right into my heart. Damned right, Tara. It won’t end until we’re all dead.

I’m nobody special. I’m just a soldier of the Legion. Only I did my time in Hell. I thought I had earned my way out. All that combat and still alivewhat are the stats on that? I’ve got an artificial arm and a body covered with scars. I sometimes suspect that my heart is artificial as well. I guess I’m getting old.

Yes, I’m getting old. You’d never know it to look at me, of course. I’m an immortalall Legion soldiers are immortals. At a glance, I look like some kid in midschool. But you can tell the difference by the eyes.

Funny. I remember when I was a new body. The vets used to scare me. All those icy vets. They all had the same, bottomless eyesyou could fall right in, but you didn’t want to. Some of them had been shot up so many times, and so much of their body was artificial, there was a question about just how human they were. Yes, they scared me. I had avoided them. But now I guess I’m one of them. The kids look away when I approach.

We were all volunteers, of course. I had raised my hand, and that’s where my troubles had begun. It’s easy to laugh at the Gods when you’re young and foolish. It gets harder the more you see. I don’t regret a thingbut I was sure hoping it would stop right here. Wrong. Wrong again.

Graduation, Basic Training Course 650. Almost a thousand new recruits were braced at attention between rows of little folding chairs, filling the vast auditorium. Normally it was a sports arena. Now it was graduation. They were clad in formal Legion black, bereft of insignia. It was as quiet as a chapel. I could barely hear them breathing. BT was over, successful, done. We’d lost a few along the way, people who decided this was not for them, but that was good, not bad. The rest of them belonged here. They were believersready to throw their bodies between our women and children and anything at all that would threaten them. Without question, without hesitation. These were our future citizensthose who would survive.

We instructors were off to one side, also braced at attention. We all faced a large stage with an impressive lectern emblazoned with the Legion cross. Commander Karel and a host of visiting dignitaries were gathered around the lectern. In exactly three marks the ceremony would begin. There would be several speakers, and that’s when we’d get to sit down. Later the recruits would parade across the stage and be awarded their BT insignia. It wasn’t over, of courseAdvanced Combat Training awaited them all.

I already knew the most effective speaker would be the ruddy-haired young lady dressed in muted brown civvies. I’d heard her speak before. She had been a civilian housewife, focused entirely on her husband. Her husband was a Legion trooper who was killed in action shortly after their marriage. She had then enlisted in the Legion, volunteered for Recon, and compiled a record body count before forced retirement due to extensive injuries including the loss of an arm and a leg. Those had been grown back, of course. She was now a citizen, an activist with No Retreat, and a motivational speaker for Legion graduations.

“Attention to the colors!” Karel snapped. A huge holo image of the ConFree flag suddenly appeared on the wall behind the stage. It loomed over the entire gathering, a jet black field with a silvery Legion cross in the center, blinding in its intensity. The flag was seemingly live, rippling in a strong breeze, flapping, snapping, straining at the lines. We could hear the wind, amplified, tearing at the flag, and the flag, cracking in response. We all snapped to attention, and if you think you can’t snap to attention when you’re already at attention you’d be wrong.

The national anthem beganThe Black March, screeching through the arena like a mad cat, deafening and intense, crawling over my skin, burning into my body, throbbing in my heart. Oh, noagain! It happened every time. It was just an ancient custom, I told myselfjust an old, tribal ritual. But it got me every time. My eyes would go right to the flag, right to that blinding Legion cross, and the rest of the arena would just fade to black, fading away completelyalmost a thousand recruits, gone. It was just me and the Legion cross. I’d clench my teeth, always, and try real hard not to cry. My eyes were watering already. Stop it! What are you, a girl?

The flagall right, it meant something. It was ours. It was us. All those Outworlders and Assidics who went before. All those hopeless, outnumbered, disarmed slaves who had risen up against tyranny and raised that flag, against impossible odds. It was our ancestors. Now we were being tested, too. The flag was still with us. But were we the same people as our ancestors?

And our enemies. I guess they didn’t know about the flag. Who did they think they were dealing with? They’re going to raid our worlds, kill our nationals, rape and behead our women, hang our children in contempt? And they think nothing is going to happen to them? They think nobody cares? That may have been true under System rule. But things have changed out here, in the Outvac. This is a dangerous place for Systies, or any other savages who would attack followers of the Black Flag. We will have no mercy on our enemies. We will strike back at them with all our strength, annihilate their star fleets, attack their home worlds, burn their cities to the ground, and exterminate anyone who dares resist us. We’ll kill a thousand of them for each of our own deadmaybe a million! They’ll remember the Black Flag.

The anthem was climaxing. My heart was pounding. Attack us, will you? We’ll see about that! We’re going to kill every last one of you subhuman vermin! And any goodlib traitors who try to talk us out of itthey die too! Enemies foreign and domestic, that was in the Legion oath. The traitors were always there, squirming in the dark, just waiting their chance to seize power, to destroy ConFree and the Legion, to turn us all back into Systie slaves. Nothat won’t happen as long as I’m on duty!

She came like some evil phantom, with a brace of other big shots, to attend the graduation of Basic Training Course 650. She must have shown up at the last moment because I hadn’t seen her on stage. I had been concentrating on the graduation. It was a significant event for the kids, but not as significant as the live-fire event that would constitute their graduation from Advanced Combat Training after the Hell Course. It was a significant event for the Legion toowe were proud of our recruits.

When I heard she was here I just closed my eyes. This was the very last thing I needed.

“Well, I guess that’s her,” I said. An aircar was settling down on our lawn, blowing debris around from the forest. It was early evening.

“Remember, Thinker,” Priestess warned me, “whatever she wants, the answer is no.”

“No. Rightno.” I said.

“Not only no,” Millie added, “But hell no.”

“Hell no. Right! All right, let’s be nice.”

The chimes sounded softly. The front door slid open. Tara stood there, shaking soft silky hair back over her shoulders, clad in Legion black, a faint smile, bewitching liquid Assidic eyes, pale brown skin, high cheekbones. An angela bloody angel, trapped downside through some cosmic miracle.

“Wester!” she exclaimed, “You look terrific! It’s so ” I couldn’t help it. I reached out and drew her to me. A warm embrace, and the past swirled softly around us. We had been through too much togethertoo damned much.

I reluctantly released her, and she turned and Priestess reached out and embraced her, and I think Tara whispered “Priestess,” but I wasn’t sure. Then Tara spotted Millie and disengaged slowly from Priestess and went over to Millie and put her hands on Millie’s shoulders and kissed her right on the forehead, almost reverently.

“Thank you, Millie,” Tara said, “again, and forever. The people of ConFree owe you everything.” She looked around, calmly. “Wester, and Priestess, and Millie. You all have a claim on me, forever. Anything you wantanything! You’re all heroes, to me. I dream about you, at night. Believe it or not, it’s true. It’s so wonderful to see you again!”

“It’s good to see you too, Tara,” I said. “How about some dox?”

We regrouped in my den, in airchairs, over hot dox, with Priestess and Millie watching Tara the same way you’d watch a particularly poisonous viper.

“Quite a setup, Wester!” Tara declared, looking around the room. It was full of advanced commo equipment, but lately I hadn’t used it much. “I hear you’ve been writing your memoirs.”

“Yes,” I replied. “That, and raising a family.”

“And building Legion troopers. We appreciate that, Wester. You’re exactly the type of person we need for that important task.”

“You mean, because I’m still alive. Yes, that’s what you need all right. Live instructors. Well, the recruits are terrific. They’ll get by, with or without me.”

Tara smiled. “That was a very impressive ceremony.”

“Yes, we try to do it right,” I said. “Some of them may drop out in ACT, but just getting through BT is a real accomplishment. And we want to make sure they realize what they’ve done. These kids are the futurewe all admire them.”

“What’s the dropout rate in BasicBT, you call it?” she asked.

“Yes, BT for Basic Training. It varies. Maybe four, five percent. It’s not usually from lack of abilitybut from realizing what it is they’re committing to, and deciding it’s not for them.”

“And what about the Advanced Course?”

“It goes up to maybe six percent in ACTAdvanced Combat Training. Sometimes more. They’re physically fit, by then, but many of them are not mentally prepared, even after BT.”

“Any deaths?”

“A few. We try very hard to avoid that. But it still happens.”

“I thought we were going to use holo-x sims instead of killing off our recruits before they even graduate. Whatever happened to that?”

“You tell me. We’re all anxious to use holo-x in training. We’ve got some tremendous scenarios for the kids to useand they won’t know if it’s real or not! But there’s no word on the holo-x.”

“I’ll look into it, Wester. Combat always has priority for holo-x, I’m sure that’s what happened. These dropout rates. Any trends in comparison to previous years?”

“No, it’s about the same.”

“Good. Good. We’re watching ConFree youth carefully, Wester. It’s very important. Of course you’re getting the cream, the very best. There are some troubling trends, with our kids. A lot of them are hooked on holo sex. That’s all they do. The games come from the System. Ormans, of coursethe slimy bastards! We’re going to counter it.”

“What’s your current rank, Tara? Can I ask?” Priestess interrupted. We didn’t normally wear rank insignia in the Legion.

“I’m a two-star now. Deputy Director of Galactic Information.”

“For the Outvac?”

“No, for ConFree.”

A two-star general! And Deputy Director of Galactic Informationfor all ConFree! She was one of the most important officials in ConFreeand why shouldn’t she be? Her credentials were impeccable. She had lost it all, her family, her lover, her mind, to the enemies of ConFree. All she had left was a burning rage for vengeance. Unlike me! I wasn’t like her, any more. I had something to live for, now.

“By the way,” Tara said, “thanks for those atrocity shots, fromum, Fortuna. It was just what we needed.” She took a sip of dox. “Good dox.”

“I’m glad you liked our vacation pix,” I said. “Too bad so many ConFree nationals had to die to make you happy.”

Tara looked up. “My! No need to react so strongly, Wester. I’m sorry if I sound uncaring, but what I said was true. And I’m not uncaring. I am very involved, with that incident and a lot of others. But the truth is, atrocity holos are critical to our efforts. We seek the truth, we deal in the truth, and we disseminate the truth to the whole damned galaxy, whether they like it or not. Every ConFree school kid is going to walk through that holo, as soon as they’re old enough. And they’re never going to forget it! They’re never going to forget what the U’tal did to themto their peopleto Outworlder women and children. It will be part of their education. And it will be the truth!”

“Hello,” LiLo said. She stood in the doorway to the den with Lester and Andrea beside her, each grasping a hand. I stole a glance at the chron on the wallLiLo was right on time. I wanted her to show Tara exactly what my situation wasjust to avoid any misunderstandings. Lester detached himself from LiLo and toddled over to Priestess while LiLo escorted Andrea to Millie.

“They’re beautiful, Wester!” Tara commented. “You’re a lucky man.”

“Things have changed, Tara. I’m domesticated and housebroken, by these two lovelies and the children. I don’t piss on the floor anymore, and I don’t go off on crazy adventures.”

Tara gave us a mischievous grin. “Well, you’ve certainly changed, Wester. You have a beautiful family and a very impressive home. And this is ?” She was looking at LiLo.

“Oh! Sorry,” I said. “This is LiLo. She helps out around the house. We couldn’t get by without her.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ma’am,” LiLo said.

“And you even have servants!” Tara laughed out loud. “That’s wonderful, Wester. We’re doing research on changing lifestyles within ConFree. Maybe I’ll put you in there. I suppose you’re showering in warm water?”

“As a matter of fact, we are.”

“Ah! Another Legion tradition down the shower drain! I still use ice cold, you know.”

“Sometimes I use hot water, Tara. If I feel like it!”

“Well that’s fine, Wester. This dox is wonderful. Wester, if you’re free tomorrow I’d like to invite you and your familykids, servants, everybodyto accompany me on the Silver Cloud. They’re taking us on an overnight round trip to the Great Rift and back. Just a quick tour, to impress the VIP’s. I’m told it’s a memorable experience. Have you been on the Silver Cloud?”

“No, I haven’t.” It was on my ‘must-do’ list. The Silver Cloud was an air effects liner, a huge passenger craft designed primarily for family vacations. Priestess had been nagging me for months to arrange a trip.

“We’d love to go,” Priestess said. “Thanks, Tara. It’s tomorrow? But we don’t have tickets.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll get your tickets and staterooms. How many rooms would you like?”

“Um, maybe two. How much are the tickets?”

“The tickets are free. I’ll see you at the Providence skyport at 0800 hours tomorrow.”

As Tara departed I noticed Priestess and Millie exchanging glances. They were tense and grim. They appeared distinctly unhappy about the free tickets. I knew better than to ask any questions.

The Silver Cloud was even more impressive in reality than in the holo pix I had seen of it. It was a gigantic, silvery white air effects liner, reflecting the sunlight of a sparkling new morning as we boarded through one of two great passenger ramps locked to the leading edge of the fuselage. It loomed overhead almost like some titanic stone monument, resting on massive landing supports, seemingly growing out of the bedrock. The ship was roughly hexagonal in shape, flat on top and bottom, with no wings and a projecting nose. There were several decks inside, and wide viewports ran all around the craft, almost from stem to stern. Many of them were open to the morning and we could see people moving around inside.

“Wow!” Millie said as she walked up the ramp with Andrea.

“Wow!” Lester repeated from LiLo’s arms.

Wow, I thought. We couldn’t see the top of the ship from the ramp.

“Welcome to the Silver Cloud, sir,” a smiling young man dressed in ship’s whites said. “You’re the Wester party? General Hanna has arranged your quarters. Please follow me.” The Silver Cloud was run by a private firm. We followed him through wide, tastefully decorated corridors bathed in sunlight to two adjoining suites, huge luxurious rooms done in spotless phospho white and gleaming chromeseemingly set up for an emperor and his concubines.

“I’m beginning to worry about this, Thinker,” Priestess said.

“Your idea, Priestess. So don’t blame me,” I replied.

“Just remember, no matter what, the answer is still no.”

“Noright.”

We watched from an open viewport on starboard as the Silver Cloud lifted gracefully from the ground, completely soundless and seemingly as light as a feather. There was no sense of movement except for the view of the skyport, sliding gently away below us.

“No sound?” Millie asked.

“It’s powered by a series of huge air effects props down below built into the bottom of the ship,” I said. “If you listen carefully you can hear a muffled whisper, but it’s built to be soundless.”

“It’s as if we’re floating,” Priestess said.

“It’s not meant to go fast,” I said. “It’s meant to fly like a cloud. What a morning! Taste that air! What a view!”

“Is it dangerous?” Millie asked.

“No! Even if we lose all power, we’ll just float down to safety. We can land anywhereland or water.”

“This is really something,” Priestess said.

I leaned against the railing and breathed in that magnificent morning. Now this was the way to travel!

“There’s a swimming pool topsides on the Lido Deck,” LiLo announced excitedly, with Lester and Andrea in tow. “Two of them, actually! May I take the kids swimming?”

“Is there a wading pool?” Millie asked. Millie and Priestess and I were having brunch in a large dining hall on Deck 2, sipping dox and snacking on smokies and cheese, surrounded by other passengers doing the same. I loved the view, but we had skipped breakfast at home.

“Yes, Ma’am,” LiLo replied. “It’s all out in the sunlight up there. It’s amazing! They have a running track, netball, and lots of other things. All these ladies are walking around in their undies tanning themselves.”

I laughed, and so did Priestess and Millie. “Sure, take them, LiLo,” Priestess said. “Keep a sharp eye on them. Do you have a bathing suit?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“Here, take thisthat should be enough. Buy yourself a swimming suit from the ship’s store on Deck 1. Lester and Andrea both have those little waterproof things, in the survival kit.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you, Ma’am!” She took off with the kids.

“She knows a lot, but there’s still a lot she doesn’t know,” Priestess reflected.

“She’s cute,” Millie said.

“There you are!” Tara exclaimed, charging into the dining hall. She was still in her blacks, and looked terrific. “I finally got rid of them! How are you all doing?”

“Have some dox, Tara,” I said. “Take a seat. We’re doing fine. Do you know they have swimming pools up topside?”

“Yes, the Minister of Education invited me to go swimming. He said he’d like to see me in bathing attire.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“I said ‘In your dreams, sir.’” She took a sip of dox. “Ah, that’s good. Actually we had a useful session. We got a brief on the latest sitrep from Asumara.”

“Really,” I said. “What’s the latest?”

“We found the Bold Lady in orbit around Asumara 5. They were refitting it, trying to disguise it. That’s all we needed. Their infrastructure is almost totally destroyed by now. The whole planet is burning. We’ve hit every significant military, government and economic target they’ve got. Their star fleet is finished. We don’t think there’s a single intact starship left. All power is gone. Their population is going to be cranky for a long time. We’re running out of targets. And this is just the initial reprisal, carried out by Fleetcom and our Phantoms. They can’t even see the Phantoms, of course, but they sure as hell know when they hit a target. We haven’t even communicated with them yet. But when we do, they’ll be told that the ConFree Council has prepared a declaration of war, and unless they meet our terms we will make it formal. Then we’ll enforce a galactic embargo and take stronger measures.”

“Stronger measures?”

“We’ll drop in the Legion and go after their military and government and religious people. Of course we’ll use holo-x exclusively. We’ll have zero casualties, and we’ll slaughter themjust like they slaughtered our people on Fortuna.”

“So they have to meet our terms. Do you think they will? What are the terms?”

“I don’t really know if they will or not. This is the Blood Empire we’re talking about. The U’tal are not really sane. They’re religious fanatics, and they worship blood and death. They’re cannibals. They eat their enemies, and drink blood from their skulls. They placate their mad god with human sacrifices of babies and virgins. They keep millions of slaves, torture them until they convert to the one true god, and engage in gang rape as punishment for anyone who opposes them. And their pets, those transgen apesyou’ve seen what they can do.” Tara shuddered. I’d never seen her do that before. “Anyway, our termswe haven’t decided yet. There’s been a recent development.”

“What’s that?” I asked. Priestess and Millie were listening in silence, almost like statues.

Tara smiled. It was like the smile of a saint. “You know, Wester, I’ve seen a lot of blood and death, and sometimesevery once in awhileI wonder if we’re doing the right thing. But then something happens that clarifies everything. It’s almost as if Deadman lights it all up with his sword, for us all to see, and understand. I can’t tell you how proud I am of our soldiers, Wester. All of them. Soldiers of Godthat’s what they are.” For a moment it looked as if she was going to lose control, but then she softened, and gave us a sad little smile.

“We flooded the planet with eyemotes, Wester, looking for those Fortuna girls who disappeared during the U’tal raid.” Six of them, I recalled, missing and presumed kidnapped by the U’tal. “We used tens of thousands of eyemotes,” Tara continued. “We just dropped them everywhere. They were all programmed with images of the missing girls, and if even one of them succeeded in locating any one of the targets we’d be happy.” Eyemotes were pretty neat, I remembered. We had used them on Dardos. They were the size of a dustmote, undetectable, could operate on their own or under remote control, and could send and receive visual and audio.

Tara took another sip of dox. She seemed completely content. “One of the eyemotes found one of the girls, in awell, I guess you could call it a rape housein an obscure suburb of the capital city. We then flooded the area with more eyemotes, and soon located two more of the missing girls in a temple complex. Both were being prepared for a religious ceremony where they were to be eaten alive by the priests. We dropped in a recon team in a Phantom. There was no time to set up the holo-x, so they went in live.” She paused, savoring her dox. “Mmm! This is super.”

“Come on, Tara!” I urged. “What happened?”

“All three girls rescued, some forty-nine locals killed or wounded, and zero recon casualties.”

“All right!”

“The Mission Commander led the squad downside. He’s one of our best. And you know him wellDragon, your former Beta Eight.”

“Dragon!” I exclaimed. “All right!” Dragon was certainly one of our best. He was a warrior’s warrior.

“Heroes,” she said. “They’re all heroes. You should have seen those girls, it was so pitiful. They could hardly believe their nightmare was over. I’m so proud of our troops. That’s what we do, Wester. That’s what the Legion does.”

“Tenners on that,” I said.

“Of course there are still three girls we haven’t located yet. That will be part of our termsplus the surrender of the entire chain of command responsible for the Fortuna raid. Little things like that. Then we leave the bastards alone again, until their next brainstorm. I wanted to incinerate the planet but the Council thought that was too extreme.”

“Extreme? You? No!”

“I learned it from you, Wester. The Council still doesn’t get it. These Blood Empire U’tal fanatics are subhuman, brainwashed psychotics. They’re not much more intelligent than their man-ape hybrid pets. They’ll not stop until they’re dead. And we’re the ones that will have to do the killing. I’m not sure they’ll accept our terms.”

“Well, here’s hoping you’re wrong,” I said.

The Great Rift was truly spectacular, a giant bleeding gash in the deadlands, dropping off straight down to ochre canyons with wild whitewater rivers cutting through a vast wilderness of magical gorges cut through flat-topped mesas of blue granite. We arrived there just at sunsetVeltros’s star was blood red, the Rift was glowing like molten lava, and the Northmark Mountains were a pale purple in the distance. From the Silver Cloud we could see from horizon to horizon, and the Rift didn’t endit could have circled the planet for all we could tell.

“Nice view?” Tara asked me. We were on Deck 3, out in the open, leaning on the railing along with a crowd of others, bathing in the view and the sunset. Priestess and Millie were all rifted out, taking a break with the kiddies at the wading pool, but I couldn’t get enough of the place.

“It’s pretty amazing,” I replied. The air was brisk. It was going to be a crisp, clear evening. It didn’t rain much in these latitudes.

“These little breaks are important,” Tara said. “They clear the mind. I can tell you we need clear minds, for what we’re discussing.”

“And what are you discussing?”

“The future of ConFree.”

“Is this where the Council makes its decisions? On vacation boondoggles?”

“Oh no, no decisionsjust thoughts, to bring with you for when the decisions are going to be made.”

“I see. What kind of issues are you working on?”

“There are a lot of issues. A pending war with Asumara, biogen delegates from the Hyades, oppressed Outworlders all over plenty of individual problems. But we can’t approach things piecemeal. We have to change our policies first, we have to change our attitudes, we have to adapt to a changing galaxy. If we’re going to survive, and prosper, we have to learn from history. We can’t just keep on doing what we’ve been doing. It may have worked in the past, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to work in the future.”

I knew Tara pretty well. She was staring off into that lovely view, but I knew she didn’t see it. She wasn’t talking to me, she was talking to herselfgetting her thoughts straight. I knew I wouldn’t have to say muchjust let her talk.

“Do you know what happens to empires, Wester?”

“Growth, universal empire, corruption and decay, collapse. Something like that.” Every ConFree school kid knew that. We made damn sure of it.

“Exactly. Collapse. Empires collapse. It’s a universal law of history. Do you think ConFree is an empire?”

“Well, I’ve always thought we sure resembled one. I mean, we were grappling with the System, it was a fight to the death, and they were an empire, and we could only defeat them by being bigger and badder than they were. And now they’ve collapsed. So that leaves us.”

“The Empire of ConFree?”

“Until we collapse, I suppose.”

“Well I’ll tell you a secret, Wester. That’s not going to happen on my watchand ConFree isn’t an empire.”

“No?”

“No. We have no galactic territorial ambitions. As a matter of fact, we are responding to the dissolution of the System by withdrawing back to our own territorythe Outers. We have no permanent interests in the Inners, the Gulf or the Gassies. Our home is the Outvacthe Crista Cluster, Dindabai, Andrion, Veda and other Outers worlds.”

“Withdrawing! That wasn’t what we were doing a few years ago. You told me yourself that we were going to land on every System world, and cleanse it of slavery. We were going to fight forever, for as long as it took to drive a cenite stake into the heart of the System, and kill off galactic slavery for all time. I accepted it, but I assumed that our leaders were all insane.”

“That’s right, Wester. That was our policy. We were in a fight to the death. But that’s over now. We won. Yes, the System’s still alive. But they’re no longer a threat. They are doomed by the forces of history. Empires collapse. They’re collapsing. And we did it.”

“There are still billions of slaves out there. What about them?”

“I’m not God. And neither is ConFree. The Director of ConFree and the ConFree Council are responsible to the people of ConFreenot to anyone else. We don’t rule the galaxy, and we don’t want to. The Director of ConFree is not the Emperor of the Galaxy. And we’ve never been on a crusade to end slavery, rid the galaxy of oppression or force anyone to follow our religion, adopt our system of government, or salute our flag.”

“You coulda fooled me.”

“Yes, Wester, we did allow our ambitions togrow. In an insane manner, you might even say. But history is talking to us, now. Whispering in our ears. It’s the voice of the dead, Wester, and we’d better listen, or we die too. ConFree is the creation of the Outworlder nation. We are responsible to the people of ConFree, and we’d better remember that. Now that the System is finished, we’re going to return to our own sector, and mind our own business.”

“Well, that’s the first good news I’ve heard in a long time.”

“We must learn from history, Wester. We were slaves. Then we had a vision, spiritual faith, and courage. The Outworlder race broke away from the System and challenged the Outvac frontier, risking everything for the future, then risking it all again, for liberty and independence from System tyranny and slavery. And our society workedbetter than we ever dared imagine. What’s next, Wester? Do you know what is next?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“Slavery, faith, courage, liberty, wealthand then complacency, apathy, dependence, and slavery. That’s the cycle. Do you know where we are on that cycle?”

“We’re in the insanity portion. You didn’t mention that.”

“We’re in wealth. We’re right where things start to change for the worse. It’s a long, slow cycleso slow that most people don’t even notice it. Governments that remain unaware of history are criminally stupid, and must be overthrown. But ConFree isn’t unaware. We know exactly what’s going on.”

The stars were coming out by then. The Silver Cloud was shining beautiful colored lights down into the Rift. The tourists around us were partying, getting louder. LiLo was standing a short way off, looking at us. Now what?

“What is it, LiLo?” I asked.

“Madame Priestess and Madame Millie told me to watch you, sir, and if you put your hands on Madame Tara, I have to go back and tell them.”

“That’s nice. You go back and tell them that I’m being a good boy, and keeping my hands to myself.”

“Yes sir.” She turned and headed back to the pool.

“I’m really hurt, Wester,” Tara smiled. “You didn’t used to have any problems with putting your hands on me.”

“Well, things didn’t used to be this complex.”

“That’s a ten, Wester. That’s a ten.” She paused, staring into the distance, then resumed. “There’s so much to worry about, Wester. So much. Like most revolutionary governments, ConFree started as an instrumentdesigned to rid us of the System, and guarantee the independence of the Crista Cluster as a galactic homeland for Outworlders and Assidics. But that task is done now. And what comes nextalways? The instrument growsand turns into an institution, living only for itself. Ultimately, it usually becomes that which it was founded to oppose. Unless we remain very vigilant, ConFree will become a slave state, just as bad as the System.”

“Wasn’t that what ConFree feared the Legion was becomingwhen they sent those ConFree Special Mission boys to kill us on Uldo?”

“They were traitors, consorting with the System! Yes, they had reason to fear the Legion. But it was the Legion that saved ConFree, not them. It was the Lost Command, one of our most glorious moments.”

“Calm down, Tara. I happen to agree with you there. All right, so we’ve got the wheel of history or whatever you call itand ConFree is getting soft and fat. Using warm water, hiring servants, having babiesright?”

“We are certainly worried about that, Wester.”

“And our government is also getting big and fat, and the population will soon be slaves, living off government money and losing all their freedoms.”

“Not as long as I’m breathing, Wester. But those are real problems. Another big problem is the diaspora. All those Outworlders and Assidics, still living in slavery all over the galaxy, if not under the System then under all those slave states that succeeded it. What do we do about them? That’s a problem.”

“I thought we were going to free them.”

“It’s not that easy, Wester. Most of them are brainwashed. Many don’t even know they’re slaves. They think it’s normal to have most of their earnings confiscated by the state, they think Voluntary Service is not slavery, they think it’s normal for the government to decide who mates with whom to achieve a desirable ethnic mix and get rid of undesirable genes, they think the victim of a robbery is a social parasite and should be punished because he had more goods than the attacker, they think they control the government because they vote once every four or five years for approved candidates. How can you save people like that? They’re not really Outworlders any morethey’re sheep, they’re slaves. They don’t deserve our help. Why should our brave soldiers die for them? They deserve to be slaves!”

“I’m sure they’re not all like that.”

“No, they’re not. That’s the problem. There are plenty of Outworlders out there who want to escapeand join us. And we should help them. That’s a problem.”

“So we’re still a beacon, for them.”

“The light of liberty, Wester, shining through the galaxy, for all who have eyes to see and ears to hear. Yes, a beaconthat’s good.”

“So that’s not changing.”

“Noit will never change! We don’t change our ideals! And the whole damned galaxy is going to know it! And when some gang of subhuman rats raids a ConFree world and slaughters our people we’re going after them, and their world is going to glow in the dark for a long, long time, and the whole damned galaxy is going to know about that as well! We don’t have any choice, Wester. Not if we’re going to remain true to our ideals. And when all those Outworlder slaves all over the galaxy hear about that, those who still have eyes to see and ears to hear, they’re going to think, ‘Got you, you bastards! Got you!’ and they’ll know it’s them, their people, striking back, just as hard as we can, at those stinking, rotten bastards!” Tara was trembling. Her eyes were wet, but I knew it wasn’t from weakness.

“Go get ‘em, girl,” I said softly. “Go get ‘em.”

“So what did she want?” Priestess asked suspiciously. We were back in our spotless stateroom. LiLo was preparing the kids for sleep and Millie had joined us in the lounge.

“Nothing. She was just talking politics.”

“Nothing?” Millie asked. “Are you sure?”

“What kind of politics?” Priestess asked.

“It was just about ConFree. The wheel of history, that kind of stuff.”

“She didn’t ask you to do anything?” Millie asked.

“Nope. She was just talking out loudusing me as a sounding board.”

“Politics!” Priestess snarled. “She’s getting her hooks into you. She’s got something in mind for you.”

“I really don’t think so, Priestess. I think she just wanted to talk.”

“You stay alert, soldier! And rememberthe answer is no! We’ve done enough for the Legion. They’ve got a whole new graduating class they can use. Tell her to use them, if she wants bodiesnot you!”

“I’ll do that, Priestess, if she asks. But she hasn’t asked.”

Chapter 4

The Santos Newhuman Socialrevolutionary Diversegalitarian Democooperative

We were to learn soon enough what Tara had in mind. My orders arrived unexpectedly with the usual flurry of assignments and reassignments between courses.

ACCESS BLUE MAGSEC GI IR OUTVAC STARCOM SECRET PERS

CITE: GI QUABA 12990206

FOR: LEG BT VELTROS PERS

DATE: 328/09/43

SUBJ: REASSIGNMENT LMV 34673002 THINKER

TEXT: ORDERS: LMV 34673002 WN THINKER TO REPORT IMMED U/A TO GI QUABA PERS RE ONWARD ASSIGNMENT.

ACCESS BLUE MAGSEC GI IR OUTVAC STARCOM SECRET PERS.

I reread the document, stunned, sitting at the desk in my little cube in BT. Bitch! Anger and resentment surged through my veins. Calm down, Thinker, I thought. Let’s just calm down. What does this mean? From Galactic Information Quabathat’s Tara, of course. Reassignment, immediate, unaccompanied, to Galactic Information Quaba. But it was foronward assignment! Report to Personnel upon arrival for details. Deadman! It could be anywhere! It could be anything! Not a clue! Wait a moyes, look at the classificationACCESS BLUE MAGSEC. What the hellroutine Legion personnel reassignments don’t rate a classification like that. And SECRET PERS. PERS, fine, but why SECRET? Normal personnel assignments are unclassified and marked ROUTINE, not SECRET. Let’s see, GI IR, that’s Galactic Information and Interstellar Relations. Why include Interstellar Relations? OUTVAC STARCOM, they’re on everything, but why the Ministry of Interstellar Relations? What do I have to do with them?

I knew the only way I was going to find out was to follow my orders and show up at Quaba 7unaccompanied. Priestess and Millie were going to be very unhappy about this. Just say no! Well, you can’t say no to Legion ordersTara knew exactly what she was doing.

I hopped a Fleetcom tacship, the Bad Girl, bound for Quaba with a load of Legion troopers on their way to the Asumara front. The transportation routes throughout the Crista Cluster were sparkling with artificial wormholes as the Legion prepped for war with Asumara. It sure didn’t look good, I thought, lying in my wall bunk with my nose almost touching the bottom of the overhead bunk. I closed my eyes but all I could see were the tears, Priestess and Millie, hot tears running down their cheeks, unashamed, and then the kids, sensing disaster, crying as well. All I could do was hold them all tightly and fight my own tears and vow to return. We were going to war. What choice did I have, what choice did any of us have, except to fight for our own survival?

I watched from a viewport as we approached Quaba 7. Two lovely white suns burnt far away in a deep cobalt sky. The massive planet glowed a luminous ochre in the sunlight and silvery seas flashed like watery mirrors. I could clearly see the thin sheet of atmosphere against the dark sky. Another lovely worlda miracle, created by God and touched with life. It was ours, one of the leading planets of the Crista Cluster, home to Fleetcom and Galactic Information and a host of other ConFree instruments. Instruments, I reminded myself, not institutions. Let’s keep it that way!

The Bad Girl dropped gracefully from orbit, circling the planet lazily, slowly losing altitude as it slid from dayside to nightside, the leading edges of the massive white wings starting to glow pink as we entered the atmosphere, a black Legion cross displayed prominently for all to see. We weren’t ashamed of our colors. Tacships could hardland downside, for maximum efficiency, and that’s what we were doing.

“Wester! How wonderful to see you! I’m so sick of all these people! Lori, hold all calls!” Tara was looking her best, as usual, but I was determined not to let it affect me. Legion Personnel had sent me on directly to see the Deputy Minister of Galactic Information and here I was, in Tara’s spacious office as she barked orders to her secretary in the outer office and came around from behind her desk to greet me in person.

“Trooper Zero, reporting as ordered, Sir,” I said coldly.

“Oh, give it a rest, Wester. Let’s sit over here.” She hooked an arm around one of mine and guided me over to an airsofa by a wide armored window with a spectacular view of Quaba Port and the city of Forest Landing beyond it, hidden in greenery. “How are Priestess and Millie? How are the kids?”

“They’re fine, Tara. And how is Willard?” Willard was Tara’s adopted son. We had found him on an Omni starship, orphaned by the O’s holocaust, and he had been with Tara since then.

“He wants to join the Legion, Wester.”

“I thought you were going to talk him out of that.”

“It’s hopeless, Wester. We’re all branded with the Legion cross. It’s impossible to resistit’s like a curse, the curse of the Legion.” She suddenly sounded very weary.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this assignment when you visited us? The girls are kind ofupset,” I said.

“I didn’t know, Wester. I honestly didn’t know. This just came up. You know I trust you. I’m meeting so many people, it’s becoming increasingly hard to tell who’s dependable and who isn’t.”

“I’m happy teaching the kids, Tara.”

“I know you are, Wester, and I’m sorry. Please apologize for me to Priestess and Millie. But it can’t be helped! We’re going to war, Westerwe’re actually already at war, and there’s so much else going on as well. I need you. The Legion needs you. ConFree needs you. Your people need you!”

“What have you got?” I knew it was impossible to fight her. Just accept it.

She gave me a dazzling smile. “I knew I could depend on you, Wester! All right, here’s your package.” She pulled a fat datapak off a nearby table and dropped it onto my lap. “You’ve just been transferred to the Ministry of Galactic Information, with a rank of Commander. You’ve also been attached to the Ministry of Interstellar Relations, with a title of Attache. As far as anyone outside ConFree is concerned, you’ll be on a diplomatic mission for the Ministry of Interstellar Relations. And if anyone asks, you’re a Legion Commander on TDY to our Embassy in Santos. Your name is James Wester; I hope that’s tenners with you.”

Santos! I tried to gather my thoughts. The rank of Commander came just over Senior Captain and just under General, in the Legion, or Admiral, in Fleetcom. I had been a Captain beforeit was quite a jump. And now I was a diplomat, working for Galactic Information, Interstellar Relations, and the Legion, as a Commander, an Attache, and probably a lot of other things.

“How long is this TDY?” I asked. First things first.

“Just as long as it takes you to compile your report, Wester. Here’s what I need “

“Why me? You’ve got a whole ministry of diplomats if you need info on what’s going on in Santos. You’ve got an Embassy there. Why me?”

Tara gave me a tired smile. “Would you like some dox, or tea, Wester?”

“No thanks. Why me?”

“Look out that window, Wester.” I looked. A freighter was hardlaunching off in the distance, rising soundlessly from the port, then gaining speed and hurling itself up into the atmosphere. Five Legion fighters flashed past us, rattling the armored window plex, darting into a grey sky until they were tiny dots, lost in the smoky haze.

“Our society works, Wester. It works perfectly. I can see, from up here, how perfectly it works. And this is the view you need. Yes, we have an Ambassador in Santos, and a hard-working staff. He’s briefed me personally. The trouble is, when you’re assigned to a foreign world, and charged with understanding it, you become very much caught up in your mission. The Ambassador knows all about Santos. He’s very sympathetic and sensitive to the problems and needs of the newly independent world of Santos. As a matter of fact, when he was briefing me I had the impression that I was being briefed by the Ambassador from Santos, not the Ambassador to Santos. That’s kind of an occupational hazard for our diplomats. They find themselves looking for ways that ConFree can assist the worlds to which they are assigned. But that’s not our business, Wester. We represent the people of ConFreenot the people of Santos.

“Why you?” she continued. “Because I need a fresh, unbiased view. Santos is inhabited by millions of Outworlders. Under the System, they were out of power. Under the new Santos regime, the Santos Socialrevolutionary Diversegalitarian Democooperative, they’re even further out of power. The new outfit is run by a gang of Ormans who are turning it over to the Green Corps. The Green Corps are transgens who were introduced to Santos about a hundred years ago. They have roughly half human and half pig genes. The original idea was to create and exploit a non-human species for hard labor, primarily for agricultural work. They found it easier to do if you could control the creatures better and that was best done with human genes. They created the creatures with that in mind, using human genes to get bipedalism and limited intelligence, and they turned the transgens into extreme workaholics. It was a typical values-neutral System idea that worked for awhilebut now we’re left with the result. The transgensthey insist on being called Newhumans nowhave outbred everybody but they’re no longer working, and it’s a real mess. Your mission is not to solve the mess, but to visit Santos, observe the situation, and produce a written report on what, if anything, we can do about the Outworlders. They’ve asked for our assistance.”

“I don’t know a damned thing about Santos, Tara.”

“Good! That’s what I want. All you need to know for now is in that datapak. In there is the name of a representative of the Outworlder Cultural Alliance on Santosit’s a mostly social group. See him. Talk with him. I know him personally, and trust him, just like I trust you. His name is Len Kaspar. Doctor Len Kasparhe’s a medical doctor. I also list some leading Santos Ormans and transgens you should seegovernment officials. The Embassy will make those appointments for you, but don’t tell them about the contact with Kaspar. You report directly to me, not to anyone else.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just ask your diplomats to do this?”

“We’ve been through a lot, Wester.” She paused, and looked me over slowly. “I know exactly how your mind works. You’re a realist. I’ll believe you. I’ll believe the product. That’s the difference. You won’t be gone long, Wester. It’s an extremely important mission. Give me the facts. All I want is the truth. That’s what we do in Galactic Information. Make conclusions if you want, but think hard about what you put in that report. Santos may be supporting Asumara in the coming unpleasantness. The Outworlder minority may be facing extermination. Or they may not. We don’t know. That’s why we need your input. Millions of lives may depend on the decisions we make after reading your document. Report back to me personally when you’re through.”

I stood up. “All right, Tara. I’ll do that.”

She stood up too, and traced an invisible Legion cross over my face. “Go with God, Wester. May Deadman bless you.”

When I disembarked from the shuttle at Santos Starport I thought I had walked into a full-scale riot. The terminal building was overrun by a wild mob of transgens, thousands of them, all shrieking and squealing frantically, pushing and shoving desperately, all going in different directions, forcing their way through bodily, using their luggage like battering rams, males and females, all large and formidable and angry, one group attacking several transgen police clad in leather armor, the police striking back violently with long wooden staffs, whacking heads and shoulders, lashing out at men, women and children heedlessly. A howl arose from the crowd.

“I say! Cease and desist, you fools!”

“Pigs! How dare you strike at your own kind!”

“Back, I say! We’ll teach you to be so rash!”

“Make way, make way! This is our terminal! The people rule here! Out, you mental midgets!”

I was amazed at the size of most of these transgens. They were huge, fat, barrel-chested creatures, with squinty little swine eyes and noses that looked very piglike and stunted hairy pig ears and rolls of fat around their necks but with large, ponderous, powerful arms, and faces that appeared more human than pig. They wore brightly colored, almost clownish clothing. My first emotion upon seeing them in the flesh was pity. I felt so sorry for them. What a tragedy, to be not quite human and not quite pig.

“Commander Wester? Is it you?” A young Outworlder in civvies stood before me, smiling.

“That’s me,” I replied above the roar from the crowd. I was wearing some ill-fitting civvies as well. A Legion uniform would not be welcome in Santos.

“Welcome to Santos! My name’s Davilla, I’m from the Embassy. Follow me, I’ll get you through Customs and out of this madhouse.”

“Thanks! I was just about to get back on the shuttle.”

“Don’t feel bad, we all have the same reaction on arriving here. We meet all ConFree officials personally.” He whacked a huge transgen on the back of the neck with a knuckleshocker and the creature slowly moved out of our way, not even glancing back.

“You been here long?” I asked.

“Four months.”

“Is the starport always like this? What’s happening? Are those the Green Corps?”

“Nothing. Yes, it’s always like this. Nobody can depart or arrive, without all their relatives showing up. We don’t call them the Green Corps anymore. The approved term is Newhumans.”

“I don’t see anyone but transgens. Where’s everybody else?”

“Hiding. I’ll give you the details later.” We reached customs. Despite the mob, nobody else was in line there. Davilla plopped down my diplomatic passport on the counter and a large, fat transgen clerk in a tight khaki shirt looked it over curiously.

“What’s it like working here?” I asked Davilla.

“It’s like being assigned to a comic book,” he said, apparently unconcerned about the clerk overhearing him.

“Welcome to Santos!” The clerk gave me a toothy grin, baring yellow fangs. “We will secure your passport until your departure, to ensure it is not lost.”

“No you don’t!” Davilla broke in. “That’s a ConFree diplomatic passport, and Mr. Wester is on an important diplomatic mission and he must retain possession of his passport!”

“That is most unusual ” the transgen began.

“It’s not unusual at all! It’s standard practice! You put the entry stamp in the passport and give it back to the traveller! That’s the procedure!”

“Not at all, sir. I have been instructed “

“Don’t give me that! I know exactly what your instructions are! The ConFree Embassy has received details from your Ministry of Customs. Here they are! Would you like to see them? Perhaps you’re not familiar with the customs procedures?” He pulled some papers from his jacket.

“I have no need to see correspondence to your Embassy. I know my instructions, sir!”

“I demand to see your supervisor!”

“I am the supervisor here.”

“No you’re not! You’re a clerk! Shall I call my Embassy? My Ambassador knows your Minister of Customs personally.” Davilla whipped out a comset.

“It’s highly irregular. If you want me to do something irregular, you should at least make a contribution to the Newhumans Benevolent Fund.”

Davilla punched a few keys on the comset, ignoring the official.

“Have a pleasant day, sir,” the transgen said, handing me back my passport.

“Thank you, sir,” Davilla said to the transgen.

“They love it when you call them ‘sir,’” Davilla said as we walked to his aircar through scruffy gangs of tattooed young transgens who appeared to be targeting us for attack. “It’s just like working in an insane asylum.”

“You need not be concerned about the Outworlder people,” the Minister of Equality assured me. “They have exactly the same rights and privileges as do the Newhuman population. We are all equal here on Santos.” The Minister was a huge, fat transgen with darkish skin, bristly hairs sprouting from scalp and ears, gross rolls of fat hanging from his cheeks and neck, animal eyes that reflected no apparent intelligence, and a wide, wet snout. He was not an attractive customer but I tried to remain unbiased about what he was saying.

“Your tea, sir.” A young and quite beautiful Outworlder girl entered the spacious office with a tray heavily laden with a silvery tea set. She gently set it on the Minister’s desk and poured out tea for us both. She looked like a midschool girl. Her little skirt didn’t quite hide her panties.

“Thank you, Suzie,” the Minister smiled at her as she departed. He was dressed quite conservatively except for the fluorescent violet tie. His silky suit must have been very expensive and he wore a delicate golden chron and several golden earrings.

“Mist Mountain Tea,” the Minister gestured with his cup. “Try it, please. It’s our export quality.” I sipped at the teait was indeed quite goodlight and crisp. The Minister’s office was luxurious, a peaceful oasis of dark polished wood, blank d-screens and decorative maps up on the walls. A wall chron ticked soothingly somewhere behind me.

“Under the System, the Outworlders regarded themselves as our superiors,” the Minister continued. “Although they were also slaves to the System, they took advantage of the situation and treated us as their inferiors, while they were the overseers on the agricultural plantations. Their behavior was contemptible. Now that we have overthrown the corrupt System, they are the first to cry and complain about their rights. We have no sympathy, I repeat, no sympathy with these hypocritical opportunists. However, they lie to you if they say they are ill-treated by us. We are all equal here in the Santos Socialrevolutionary Diversegalitarian Democooperative. Equality is the hallmark of the SSDD. Your Outworlders are not used to being treated as equals. They believe they are superior to us, and they wish to separate themselves from our egalitarian ideals, indeed from our society. How can we permit that? We are all citizens of the SSDD, equal in the eyes of the law.”

A young Outworlder male in civvies entered the room quietly from an adjoining office and unobtrusively approached the Minister. “Sir? Excuse me. The Roseland Directive.” He placed a few sheets of paper on the desk and the Minister signed the documents without a word. The Outworlder recovered the papers and withdrew.

“Another Outworlder plantation returns to the people, with a minimum of bloodshed I may add,” he said. “A social revolution must transfer ownership from exploiters to exploited, and this is why your Outworlders are upset. Hypocrites! They always complained about the System, but they participated in the system, while the Newhumans sweated in the fields. Well, that’s over nowand it’s a good thing. You come right back here to me if they tell you any lies! Their problem is they can’t stand equality. It’s unthinkable to them!”

“Mr. Wester? I’m Len Kaspar. It’s wonderful to meet you!” He greeted me in my hotel lobby with a firm handshake. He was an Outwolder and obviously a mortalit always shocked me to see Outworlder mortals, because in ConFree aging and death was regarded as a horror from the Age of Chaos, something that didn’t happen to Outworlders. But there were billions of Outworlders still in the Inners, in the Gulf and the Gassies, people without representation, people who had no choice. He must have been what mortals call “middle-aged” as he had some grey showing in his hair and a few fine wrinkles around his eyes. He was tall and well built and looked strong and healthy despite his mortality.

“Dr. Kaspar, thanks for coming,” I said. “I’m looking forward to our discussion.”

“My aircar’s right outside, please follow me.” We stepped out the hotel’s main entrance past the transgen security guards to a line of parked aircars. It was early evening. Kaspar passed some money to a couple of lurking transgen thugs and triggered his aircar doors open. I hopped into the passenger side.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“Protection,” he replied. “They ‘guard’ your car. If you don’t pay, they trash it. It’s not easy to make a living here.”

“You don’t mind paying them?”

“It’s not muchwe’re used to it.” We slipped into a traffic lane and floated away from the hotel. Several rocks smashed violently against our windows and I caught a glimpse of a couple of transgen kids screaming something and hurling more rocks. Kaspar ignored them, punching the car into the sky.

“What the hell was that?” I asked.

“Hate rocks. They hate us. They attack us every chance they get. That’s why the car is armored. It’s not just rocks.”

“Does everyone have armored aircars?”

“All the Outworlders door at least all who have aircars. Crime is through the roof. We do what we can to survive.”

We entered a heavily wooded residential compound through a formidable aircar barricade manned by two alert-looking young Outworlders armed with vac guns. Tall deflection towers loomed above blinking dull red lightning probes to ward off unwanted aircar overflights. We cruised above quiet streets to a low-slung stone house set under some huge shade trees.

“Welcome to my home, Mr. Wester.” He showed me into a very large entry hall built around a huge stone fireplace and full of comfortable furniture. The walls were covered with family holos and pix. We found seats by a low table made from a slab of tree trunk. A blonde lady appeared with two steaming cups of dox.

“My wife Isella,” Kaspar explained. “We used to have Newhuman servants butnot any more. This is Roseland Snow dox, our premium local dox.” His wife smiled and withdrew, leaving us alone. It was quiet and peaceful.

“Roselanda local plantation?” I asked. The Roseland Directive, I thought.

“Yes, that’s right. How’s the dox?”

“It’s perfect. Very good.”

“I understand you want to know about our situationthe situation faced by the Outworlder race on Santos.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, that’s fine, Mr. Wester. We are in an extremely precarious position here. I’m going to tell you everything, and I can assure you there’s no need for me to exaggerate our plight. The facts are grim enough.”

“I appreciate that. All I want are the facts.”

“Well, first, thanks for coming. The ConFree Embassy has displayed no special interest in the local Outworlder community. You’d think they would, as there are millions of us, but well, I’m glad someone is interested.” He seemed sincere.

“We are certainly concerned about the Outworlder diaspora.” I didn’t want to give him false hopes, but it was only the truth.

“I’m pleased to hear that. You saw the heavily guarded entrance to our community here. There are many communities just like this one all over Santos, and we now guard them ourselves. We cannot depend on the transgensor Newhumans, the approved term. Since the revolution, control of the police and military has been turned over almost entirely to the transgensand they have no interest in protecting our communities, only in exploiting them. These creatures are incredibly violent and they’re now completely out of control. The System created them, to work the plantations, and the System genetically programmed them and controlled their behavior by carefully regulating the dopamine supply to their brains. Well, come the revolution, all that stopped, and the transgens simply stopped working.”

“They don’t work? They seem to be everywhere. Everywhere I look I see transgensCustoms, government, the hotel, transportation “

“Yes sir, they’re there, and drawing salaries, but they don’t work. The revolution was not made by the transgens, but by the Orman governing class that has always controlled Santos, even under the System. When the Ormans saw the situation was changing for the System and the small Mocain military garrison was preparing to leave, they took charge of the transgens and whipped up the mobs to seize power. They used class hatred and envy to oust the Outworlders from all positions of importance and they installed their puppet transgens in their place while they manipulated events from behind the scenes, cementing a close relationship with the trangens. They’ve always hated and distrusted Outworlders. They ran into one big problem, however. These Newhumansthey are of very limited intelligence. Their IQ is only about half that of a normal human, although it’s forbidden to mention that or even measure Newhuman IQ’s. Yes, they can talk charmingly and seemingly function normally but put them in charge of anything more complex than fire or the wheel and that’s itit goes belly up and they’re off to the girlie bars.”

“Looks to me like they staff the Government.”

“They do. And all major business, industrial and agricultural positions, now. But behind every fat transgen in his luxurious office and shiny chauffeured aircar is an Outworlder doing the transgen’s job, which used to be his job, for maybe half his former salary. They tried to get along without us, and couldn’t, you see. They need us. Outworlders do all the real work on this planetanything that requires technical expertise or education or experience in real-world situations. The transgens can’t even do routine maintenance, now that they’re no longer programmed. We don’t make the political decisions, of course. The Ormans do that.” I thought back to that Outworlder subordinate, in the Minister of Equality’s officeand that Outworlder girl, presumably providing services of another sort.

“You used to be slaves under the System too. What’s changed? What did the Outworlders do during the revolution?” I couldn’t figure this out. These Outwolders seemed curiously passive in view of what they were facing.

“We were kept out of it. The mobs attacked any Outworlders that appeared. I’ll tell you what’s changed. We were tax slaves before, but at least we could make a living in a society that functioned. Right now this society is failing, quickly. I think the Ormans are losing control. All Outworlder farmers are being harassed, killed or chased off the farms and food production is failing, all over the planet. We’re on half wages now, most of us are still doing what we were doing before, but reporting to a Newhuman who has no idea what he’s doing, and our taxes have gone up to pay the salaries for this huge new non-productive social welfare class that is just taking up space. Meanwhile, all Outworlders are under threat of attack from the Newhumans, all day and all night. Many have been killed already. And guess what? The gangs can’t tell the difference between Outworlders and Ormans. That has the Ormans worried.”

“Dad? We’re off for the gym.” Two tall, strong youths stood in a doorway, dressed in gym shorts and sleeveless tops, hauling gym bags.

“Who’s guarding?” Kaspar asked.

“Timmy Ka. He’s got the autovac.”

“All right. Make sure he pays attention.”

“There’s never any piggies at the gym.”

“Just pay attention!”

“Yes sir!” They waved, and faded away.

“Gymnastics,” Kaspar explained. “They’re tremendous athletes. And scholars too. But the gym isn’t in the compound. Nobody goes anywhere without protection any more.”

“That’s a shame,” I said.

“You’re right there. You know, worst of all are the schools. We had secret schools for our children under the System. The kids would go to the state schools during the day and listen to Systie hateprop and at night we’d tell them about the history of our people, the Outworlder people, and how we expanded into the cosmos seeking liberty, and founded new worlds. My own ancestors came to Santos over two hundred years ago and this home is our inheritance, a direct link to the past.” Kaspar’s eyes were gleaming, and he had raised his chin, He was obviously proud of his heritage. “We’d tell the kids about the past and how an Outworlder nation was founded in the Crista Cluster, and how ConFree fought off the System and chased them out of the Outvac. That’s what we teach our children, about their heritage.

“Come the revolution, the Ormans brought transgen children into the schools. This had never been done before, because the Green Corps were seen as ag workers and not even fully human. The schools quickly became nightmares for our kids. Nothing was taught there except hatred for Outworlders. Discipline was nonexistent, the gangs ruled the halls and attacked all Outworlder kids. Our sons were beaten bloody by the gangs, and sometimes killed. Our daughters were assaulted, kidnapped and raped. Raping Outworlder girls is the new national sport, and there’s not a damned thing we can do about it. Rape is not considered a crime by the revolution, because the Newhumans don’t consider it a crime, just an amusing misdemeanor.” Kaspar’s face twisted and I could see the hate and contempt mirrored in his eyes.

“We took our kids out of school, and formed our own schools, in our guarded communities. It worked for awhile but now that’s been declared illegal. The Ormans don’t worry, you seethey have their own schools in the milbases, and the rules don’t apply to them. But for uswell, they want our children. This is the final straw. We’re not sure what to do. We’re sure not going to send them back to those schools. Some of our sons, the ones who stayed in school, have adopted Newhuman clothing and customs and joined the gangs. It’s horrible to see that. And now we hear all private property is to be expropriated by the Ministry of Equality, to ensure nobody has more than anyone else. It looks like the end for us. We’ll lose our homes, some of them in our families for hundreds of years.”

“How many Ormans are there anyway?”

“They won’t release any figures. There’s not many, I can tell you that. They rule through intrigue and guile, not through numbers.”

“But there are millions of Outworlders.”

“True. But the transgens outnumber us by ten to one and they’re breeding more every day.”

“Right. But their intelligence is half yours, you say.”

“That’s right. They don’t do the thinking, the Ormans do the thinking.”

“And they can’t function without you.”

“Not if they want to keep the society going.”

“Do you hate the transgens?”

He hesitated. I was watching his body language, but it seemed neutral. “No. Not originally. But we’re beginning to. There’s only so much you can take. Most of us feel sorry for the transgens. It’s not their fault they are what they are. It’s the System, if you want to blame someone. It’s the Ormans, they’re the ones that are manipulating all this. They’re comfortable here. They were fat and happy here under the System, and when the System started losing it they realized they had to act fast, or they’d lose it too.”

“They obviously acted faster than you did. Was there any Outworlder participation in the revolution?”

“None.”

“Any Outworlder political groups?”

“Not really. Only the OCAthe Outworlder Cultural Alliance. It’s an overt cultural group with a covert political element. We plan strategy, for the future.”

“For the future.”

“Yes sir.”

“Call me James, please.”

“All rightJames.”

“I spoke with the Minister of Equality. He said Outworlders couldn’t stand the concept of equality. He said it was unthinkable to you. What do you say to that?”

Kaspar drew a deep breath, and poured himself another dox. “More?” he asked me.

“Please.” It was great dox. He poured me some more.

“What I say about that,” he said calmly, “is that it’s true. Equality is a lie that’s peddled to the masses to ensure their loyalty to the regime. Inequality is the truth, not equality. There are no two individuals in the galaxy who are equal, either from their genetic inheritance or from subsequent environmental influences. Everybody’s different. And if you want to divide up mankind into groups or races, by whatever guidelines you use, you can reach valid general conclusions based on the groups and the groups are going to be unequal as well. And if you’re going to compare human and non-human or semi-human groups, the inequality is going to be even greater. Anyone who says different is just parotting government propaganda. Equality? Give reality a try and then tell me about equality. Send your daughter to a public school here in Santos and then tell me we’re all equal, humans and Newhumans. What rot! Equality of opportunity is fine, but equality of outcome? That’s what they want here, and that will never happen unless it is imposed by force. Which they’re doing. Equality is a fantasyit’s just political propaganda for the dim-witted.”

“I see. Tell me, do most Outworlders here feel the same way you do?”

“Yes, they do. That’s why I was selected to see you. I’m President of the OCA. Everything I’ve told you was discussed and approved in advance by the OCA. I’m not speaking for myself, but for the Outworlder people of Santos, through the Outworlder Cultural Alliance, which is the closest we have to a political organization.”

“And are most of your members as satisfied with the current situation as you are?” Passive, I thought. They’re just like sheep, being led to the slaughter.

“Satisfied? I’m hardly satisfied. Neither are they.”

“It’s just that you’ve taken no action. Millions of Outworlders, about to be disenfranchised. What have you done?”

“There’s not much we can do, is there? Make a move, and we’re tossed in jail. I spend most of my time fighting the bureaucracy, fighting for my people in court.”

“Has any of that proven effective?”

“No.”

“I see. Well, Doctor, I’d like to thank you for the information. I now have a much clearer picture of the problems faced by our Outworlder cousins on Santos. I wish you the best of luck in resolving your situation.”

“We need more than luck James. Can ConFree help us?”

“I don’t know. But knowledge is the first step. And I can assure you that the highest levels of ConFree are going to be reading my report.”

“That’s great! Will you make recommendations?”

“No.”

“What’s likely to happen?” He was focused on me like a laser.

“From what you’ve told me so far, what’s likely to happen is that the Outworlders on Santos are going to become an enslaved race, powerless and leaderless, ruled by half-human brutes who hate them.”

“What I mean is what is ConFree likely to do about this situation?”

“I don’t know. It appears we’ll be going to war with Asumara soon. I wouldn’t expect that any resources are going to be freed up to intervene on Santos. As a matter of fact, if I were you, I wouldn’t depend on ConFree.”

“You’re not giving us much hope.” He appeared stunned.

“It sounds like you want Deadman to drop from the sky, smite your enemies with his sword, and solve all your problems. I wouldn’t count on that. Doctor, you have a fine home, a wonderful family, and a relatively comfortable life, despite the problems you’ve described. If you want to change the situation on Santos, all that has to change as well. You have to risk all that. You have to risk your life and the lives of your familyall of them. You have to risk all you own, to build an alternate future. If you’re not willing to take serious personal risks, you’ll not get what you want. It’s going to be up to you, and the rest of your Outworlder colleaguesnot ConFree. Take a poll. See how they feel. Then decide what to do.”

“What would you advise?” He was desperatethat was clear.

“I’m not giving advice. It’s up to you, not me. I’m just gathering information. You have all the facts you need. Who do you think your enemy is? The transgens?”

“Noit’s the Ormans.”

“Of course it is! And there’s not too many of them.”

“Right. So you’re saying “

“I’m saying nothing. I was told to make no promises and offer no hope. You know the situation here a whole lot better than I do. The future is up to younot ConFree.”

“Perhaps you should talk with some Ormans?”

“No. There’s no need. I already know how their minds work. There’s nothing they could tell me that I don’t already know.” My last conversation with an Orman had been short, I recalled. I had terminated the discussion by shooting him in the head. Tara had a list of Ormans I was supposed to see, but I was ignoring that.

“What shall I tell the OCA?”

“Tell them the future is entirely up to them. Goodbye, Doctor. I’d better go now. You’ve told me all I have to know, and I’ll relay it all to ConFree. I’ll pray for you, for your family, and for all the Outworlders on Santos.” I traced the sign of the Legion in the air, before his face. I swear I could almost see it burning there. I sure didn’t envy him. Being a slave was not easy, and becoming free was harder yet.

Chapter 5

The Biogen Liberation Front

When I entered Tara’s office she was alone, standing up against the viewport, looking into the distance, seemingly lost in thought. It was a dark morning out there, the sky completely overcast with grey rainclouds, a faint mist in the air.

“Hello, Tara.”

“Hello, Wester. Welcome back.”

“Did you get my report?”

“I’ve read it, Wester.” I joined her by the window. She was pale and grimnot even looking at me.

“What did you think of it?” I asked.

“What did I think of what?”

“My reportabout Santos.”

“Oh. It’s not important, Wester. Not any more.”

“Not important.” I tried to remain calm. It wouldn’t do to strangle my superior.

“We’ve just declared war on Asumara. Only a few hours ago. We’ve declared a galactic embargo and and struck the capital with an antimat. Incinerated it. Our troops are downside already, as holo-x, recovering their weapons and moving on their targets.” She appeared stunnedpale and shaken.

“You know what the U’tal did?” she whispered throatily. “They replied to our ultimatum with a recording that showed the three missing Fortuna girls, in the playing field of a stadium filled to capacity. The girls were holding handsthey were scared. Then a wild pack of those transgen apes came charging into the arena. Theythey tore the girls apartthey ate them alive.” Tara continued gazing vacantly into the distance.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I mumbled. What the hell else could I say?

“That’s when we declared war,” Tara said. “Only then.” She was in an icy rageI had seen her this way before. She was just barely under control.

“I didn’t want this, Wester.” Still glaring out into space, jaw clenched tightly.

“I know you didn’t, Tara.”

“I really thought they’d accept our terms.”

“They’re insane.”

“I don’t want war. Nobody who’s sane wants war. It’s them. They’re the ones who’ve done this. They attacked us. Now we must show them the consequences. Not only thembut everyone. Everyone in the galaxy is going to see the consequences of attacking a ConFree world. Asumara is going to glow in the dark, for a million years. We’ll kill every living thing on the planet’s surface if we have to. We’ll hunt down every government official, every lunatic priest, every murderous U’tal cannibal mercenary, and every mad dog transgen ape, and kill them all. That will be the mission directivekill them all!”

I nodded mutely. She was absolutely right. There was nothing else we could do. Not if we wanted to survive. It was a cruel galaxy, and any perception of weakness could be fatal. We weren’t weak, and the whole damned galaxy was going to get that message, loud and clear.

Tara turned away from the window. She was pale and trembling and her slightly slanted Assidic eyes were wet, but they were burning with rage and resolve. “Deadman will not find this generation wanting! We will meet every challenge, and smite every foe. We will defend our women and children, and our home worlds, to the death! Our brave soldiers will go right into Hell if they have to, and shoot Satan right between the eyes. Oh Wester, I’m sorry.” The tears burst forth and I took her gently in my arms. She did not resist, just sobbed quietly on my shoulder. This was a first.

In a few moments she broke away and found her way to her desk and composed herself with the help of some tissues. I sank into a chair.

“I feel I’ve failed everyone, Wester. Sorry about the tears. It wasn’t for me. I was crying for our soldiers. I was crying for everyone who’s going to die in this wareven the enemy.”

“Tara, you once told me that doing the right thing is never easy. It’s always difficult, you said. Well, you were right about that. And you’re doing the right thing here. That’s certain.”

“Yes. I agree. Nowyour report. I’m afraid we can’t help the Outworlders on Santos. Not now.”

“YesI told them as much.”

“How did they strike you?”

“They seemed like good people. But unwilling to take risks. They claim they’re more intelligent than the Newhumans, butwell, I’m sure that’s true, but the Newhumans were their slaves, and now the Newhumans are the masters, and the humans are the slaves. It makes you wonder who’s really smarter.”

“Wealth, laziness and apathy always ends in slavery, Wester. It’s one of the laws of history. I have something I want you to look atread this.” She tossed me a single sheet printout, done in elaborate, formal script.

Demarche and Ultimatum

To the Director of the Executive Council and the Council of Ministers of the so-called Confederation of Free Worlds.

From the First Comrade of the Leadership Commune of the People’s Egalitarian Stellar Commune, assembled in the name of the People and the Revolutionary Union Party at the People’s Hall at New Life Martyr’s City, Angaroth, in Year 12 RV.

“Skip all that stuff up top,” Tara said. “Go to para 5.” I did so.

The People’s Egalitarian Stellar Commune of Angaroth and Kotazh solemnly declares that it will never falter in its fraternal defense of the Asumara Holy Commune and that it will support unwaveringly the brave people of Asumara against all outrages, provocations and sacrileges committed by the Legion of Death and the Vulture Fleet of the so-called Confederation of Free Worlds. Furthermore, the People’s Egalitarian Stellar Commune stands strongly by our Asumara comrades in any justified action of self-defence taken by them against the Criminal Conspiracy. In addition the People’s Egalitarian Stellar Commune hotly rejects and forcefully denies the Criminal Conspiracy’s frantic accusations that the People’s Egalitarian Stellar Commune supported or was in any way responsible for the so-called Fortuna Affair.

“We’re worried that the Pegal Stelcom may intervene on the side of Asumara,” Tara said. “Asumara is independent, but they’re loosely aligned with the Pegal Stelcom. What do you think of Para 5?”

“Well, let’s see they’ll defend Asumara unwaveringly etc. etc. Asumara is justified and the Pegal Stelcom didn’t do Fortuna.”

“Right. How about ‘justified action of self-defense’?”

“Just hot air. How else can they justify it?”

“How about these ‘outrages, provocations and sacrileges’ we’re supposed to have committed?”

“How about it? We didn’t do anything like that, did we?”

“No. We didn’t. Until now. The thing is the Pegal Stelcom, amidst all the propaganda rhetoric, is saying they didn’t back, or do, Fortuna.”

“Well, what else are they going to say? Why should they admit it?”

“No, Wester. I believe them. They’ve got all this hyper rhetoric, for the benefit of their ally, but they’re telling us, strongly, we didn’t do it! I tend to believe them.”

“Will it make any difference? Are we going to war against them as well?”

A buzzer sounded on Tara’s desk. “The Biogen Delegation, Sir,” her secretary announced.

“I’ll be right there, Lori. Come with me, Wester. I want you to see this.”

There were two of them, awaiting us patiently in a small conference room behind a table of polished wood. As we entered they rose to greet us, two lovely young females, one blonde, one brunette, both with short haircuts, clad in identical khaki uniforms. It was only their fragile, unearthly beauty that gave away the fact that they were both biogens.

“Greetings,” Tara said, “from the Confederation of Free Worlds. I am Antara Tarantos-Hanna, Deputy Minister of Galactic Information, and this is James Wester who represents the Ministry of Interstellar Relations. You asked for contact with the Ministry of Galactic Information so I am the lead official for this meeting. Mr. Wester will monitor this meeting for the Ministry of Interstellar Relations. They are most anxious to meet with you but we are honoring your request. I can assure you that I am empowered to speak on behalf of the Executive Council of the people of the Confederation of Free Worlds. How may I help you?”

The two lovely girls were standing still, focused on Tara. They seemed uneasy. The blonde finally spoke. “Is it a biogen?”

Tara looked at her in surprise. “No, I am fully human.”

The two girls glanced at each other briefly, and smiled. The blonde spoke again. “Our apologies. It is truly beautiful. It resembles a biogen. We are designation Stelzu Unit 920345 and our companion is designation Minzu Unit 112009. We represent the Biogen Liberation Front of the Hyades Cluster. Specifically we represent the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Zequord 3.”

“We wish to express our sympathy,” the brunette Minzu said, “for its tragic losses on the planet Fortuna and offer our condolences on behalf of the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Zequord 3 and the Biogen Liberation Front. We also have been informed of its declaration of war on Asumara and, on behalf of the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Zequord 3 and the Biogen Liberation Front, we wish to express our hope that its aims will be resolved satisfactorily and that the loss of life associated with this decision will be minimal.”

“On behalf of the people of ConFree, we thank you,” Tara said. “Please be seated.”

“We have been sent here,” the blonde, Stelzu, began the instant she was seated, “to informally determine whether friendly diplomatic relations are possible between the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Zequord 3 and the Confederation of Free Worlds.”

“We are most desirable of friendly relations,” Minzu stated, “and are fully empowered to initiate formal diplomatic relations as soon as possible, subject only to approval from our respective governments.”

Biogensthey were a pair of beauties, almost irresistible to a hetero maniac like me. The System had used them as soldiers, lovely sweet things just like these. They were so tough it was scary. We had fought them on Pherdos in a horrible, bloody battle. Their only mission was to exterminate Legion soldiers. We were imprinted right into their brains. The only way we could stop them was to kill them. I killed plenty of them, and I hated it. To me, they weren’t biogens, they were girls. And I don’t like killing girls.

“We have been instructed to explain the goals of our revolution clearly,” Stelzu said, “and to determine whether the Confederation of Free Worlds will embrace a new nation of free biogens or will oppose the birth of this new nation and side with human forces from the Hyades Federation and the United System Alliance to deprive the biogen people of the political and human rights to which we are entitled.”

“We have long admired the Confederation of Free Worlds because it has always opposed slavery in principal and favored freedom and liberty for all peoples,” Minzu said. “Now we ask whether the Confederation of Free Worlds will favor freedom and liberty for all peoples, or only for human peoples.”

“Zequord 3 is now firmly under control of the Provisional Revolutionary Government and the Biogen Liberation Front,” Stelzu informed us. “All organized resistance is over. The purpose of our revolution is to establish a homeland for all exploited and oppressed biogen slaves, to give their lives meaning and fulfillment, to join the galactic community of human worlds, and to live in peace with our former exploiters. We are showing mercy and fairness to our former masters on Zequord 3. We invite it to visit us there and observe for itself. We will work with the human population to restore the society and economy to peaceful conditions as soon as possible. We seek no vengeance or even justice. All our human enemies will be forgiven if they promise to work with us peacefully to build a new world, and anyone who wants to leave the planet will be free to do so.”

“These documents will explain our revolution and our aims in detail,” Minzu said. She slid a fat packet of datapaks across the table to Tara.

The two biogens settled back in their airchairs, silent, focusing on Tara. I had no idea what Tara was going to say, but I sure knew what I’d have saidwhat an opportunity!

“On behalf of the people of ConFree, I thank you for your presentation and for the data,” Tara said. “I can assure you that the Executive Council of the Confederation of Free Worlds has been watching the situation on Zequord 3 with great interest, and we congratulate you on the success of your revolution. Although I cannot give you a definitive answer until I meet with the Council in full session, I can assure you that our attitude towards the Biogen Liberation Front and your provisional government is completely friendly, and as you know, we did not have friendly relations with the Hyades Federation, its predecessor the Democratic People’s Federation of Loyalist Worlds, or the United System Alliance. I see no immediate reasons why the Confederation of Free Worlds and the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Zequord 3 should not initiate full diplomatic relations as soon as possible.”

Some people say biogens don’t show their emotions but I’ll tell you those two were thrilled. It looked like they had to restrain themselves from jumping up and cheering.

“And as for ConFree favoring humans over biogens,” Tara continued, “I feel you should know that at this very moment our Executive Council is discussing a change of policy to give all biogens within ConFree full civil rights, equal to those possessed by noncitizen humans. This proposal was initiated once it became completely clear that biogens had become self-aware. Given our new policy towards biogens, diplomatic relations with your revolutionary government would seem to be a logical development.”

The biogen dolls stood up. “May we kiss it?” the blonde asked Tara. “It’s a sign of affection and a seal of friendship among biogens.”

Tara gave them a dazzling smile. “It’s the same for humans,” she said, and she gave both of them big wet kisses as I stood by foolishly. “I’d like to offer you some refreshments. What would you prefer?”

“Does it have any ZD-70?” Minzu asked. “We could use a hot lube.”

Chapter 6

The Temple of the Sun

“Heads down!” The command crackled in my ears. I didn’t need any urgingI was doing my best to merge with the ground but my A-suit was getting in the way. A crackling shriek erupted all around me and metallic debris pinged off my armor. Three bone-chilling blasts tore past, right over my headtacstars! It sounded as if the atmosphere was being ripped open violently. We were under fire and the squad’s Five had just replied with Manlink. Three blinding white-hot flashes lit up the night and illuminated it all, stark phospho white and vac black shadows, revealing three of us, obscene beasts of war clad in black cenite armor, the camfax flashing from light to dark as we huddled in mounds of muddy wreckage while cold rain whipped all around us.

“You aw right?” Delta One didn’t want the visiting Commander to get hurt on his watch.

“I’m fine. Who was the fellow who said this area was secure?”

“Some rear echelon puke. What do they know? There’s nothing on this whole frigging planet that’s secure.”

“Is that Phantom still around?” The temple was up ahead, past the smoke and rain, but I couldn’t see it visually.

“Tenners, I’m still here,” the pilot reported in my ear. “What do you need?”

X exploded all around us, peppering my armor again with shrapnel. I snapped the stock of my E against my shoulder and set it to auto x. I pointed it in the general direction of the enemy and fired.

“Two kills,” Sweety reported calmly. Sweety was my tacmod. She was a lifesaver, monitoring the tactical situation, providing warnings and advice, and guiding my rounds to the target.

“Thank you, Sweety. Phantom, strafe that temple again, please. Just use antipers roundsmaybe canister. Can you do canister?”

“Can. Why are we being so polite?”

“Just do it. I want that temple to survive.”

“Tenners.” There was a hot little hiss as the Phantom flew over us and went after the targetbarely audible. That always gave me a charge. Hell, on tap. Just whisper, and it’s there, the armored fist of the Legion, crashing down to swat all our enemies just like bugs. The Phantom was invisible, of course. Then there was an awful buzzing that gave me an icy chill and the temple was suddenly all blurry on my tacmap.

“That should do it,” the pilot said.

“Thank you kindly,” I replied.

“No life,” Sweety said. We moved up through thick black smoke and cold rain and blue lightning flashing somewhere far away and the flames of Armageddon flickering all around us. I was on darksight but it was still hard to see, there was so much smoke and not much left of the temple complex. I was sweating. My heart pounded as I snatched little glances at the tacmap lower left on the faceplate. I moved forward carefully, my E pointing into the darkness.

“Keep a sharp lookout, Sweety,” I said. I’ve been talking to my tacmod for years. She’d have kept a sharp lookout anyway, but I can’t help it.

“How come a Commander doesn’t rate holo-x?” Delta One asked me.

“Beats me,” I replied. “I was hoping it meant this area was secure.”

“No such luck, sir. Well, this is the temple. Perimeter!” The squad starburst quickly to secure the site.

I had been told the holo-x units were reserved for the hard core guys who were taking on the U’tal’s mercs. The Legion had dropped onto Asumara in force and all the later troops had to go in live. Holo-x was a lovely concept that worked perfectlyyour troops were all safe charging around in the ES Rooms topsides but their vac-active holos downside were equipped with real weapons and ordnance, blowing the enemy away with no casualties on our side. Anyone who was hit simply waited a few fracs for his image to reform, picked up his weapon and resumed firing. I had used holo-x in combat before. It was terrific. To the enemy, we were invulnerable. Our troopies kind of liked it, but there were never enough units to go around.

I squatted in the dark, smoke swirling past, and opened a silky tacmap. Rain spattered on the map. The temple was all around me, but it was far from intact. It was still burning, despite the rain.

“Well, this is it,” One said, squatting beside me. “The Temple of the Sun. Not much left, huh?”

“I’d like to” It pounced right out of nowhere, a giant black blur that hit me like a speeding aircar, slamming me to the ground with a bone-jarring crash as Sweety shouted the warningtoo late! I had a quick glimpse of wild red eyes and a gaping mouth full of yellow fangs and then it threw me head over heels and I landed with a huge splash in a wide puddle of black mud. A single shot rang out and the beast whipped around and lunged at the squad leader. I staggered to my feet with the E, searching through the smoky rain for the creature and saw a huge black transgen ape astride a prone A-suit, tearing at the armor. I gave it a burst of auto x and it exploded, cut right in two, spraying blood and viscera all over both of us.

“Cease fire!” I shouted. “CEASE FIRE!” There had been a lot of confused shouting and I didn’t want the squad shooting us up by accident.

I dragged the awful, shredded corpse off the squad leader. “Transgen ape,” I said. “Say hello. You all right?”

“I think so,” he gasped. “Deadman! I never saw it coming!” He laughed wildly. “I thought you were dead! That thing grabbed you by an arm and tossed you about a K! I shot it and it got really upset.” The rest of the squad were standing around by then, poking at the corpse with their E’s. “Perimeter, guys!” He barked. “We’re tenners. Say, thanks, Commander, that was fancy shooting. I thought that thing was going to eat me, armor and all. You sure you’re all right?”

“It’s hard to hurt yourself in an A-suit,” I replied. “What I was about to saybefore we were so rudely interruptedI wanted to talk to those prisoners your Alpha Squad took. Are they still alive?”

“Let me check. Whatever you want, you get! Yes sir!”

Morning, cold and still. The fires were mostly out but the embers of the Temple of the Sun still smouldered, producing an annoying grey smoke that hovered like fog, giving a ghostly quality to the ruins. Like a water painting on silk, I thoughtall greys and blacks, fading into nothingness. I stood there with my E, surveying the site. It had been a large complex with multiple stone buildings. The main temple still stood but it was shot to hell and burnt out inside and missing a couple of walls and the roof. The complex was littered with blackened corpses, everywhere I looked. Holy warriors, torn to shreds, many of them still clinging to their shattered weapons, Systie SG’s and Manlinks. Some of the corpses were very oldsome were skeletons. There had been fighting here before our arrival. Smoking ruins and fields of corpses, I thoughtthat was what we were going to leave behind, on Asumara.

The Temple of the Sunthe holiest of holies, in Asumara’s lunatic religion. Tara’s idea, of course. Track it down, Wester, she had said. We need the truththat’s all we need. Fine. I’d get her the truth. And I didn’t care how many U’tal would die as a result. I had seen those girls torn apart and eaten by those savage transgen apes. Tara had insisted. Truth, she had said, forcing me to watch it. Truth, in the screams of our innocent children. Keep it in your heart!

Three shots rang out in the distance, as clear as bells in the still air. X. I ignored it. Delta One appeared, clad in filthy, mud-spattered armor. I guess I looked the same. It had been a hard night.

“Your boots are unshined, soldier,” I said.

He laughed. “I’ll get right on it, sir. We’ve got that local you wanted.” One of our troopies approached, escorting a young U’tal male with hands tied behind his back. The U’tal’s head hung down, hiding his face. His long dark hair was filthy and matted and he wore dark clothing, torn and splattered with mud.

“This one speaks Inter,” One said, “But he’s not too communicative.”

“That’s not a problem,” I said, reaching out to seize the U’tal by his hair and jerk his head back to take a look. I was greeted with a glare of such malevolent rage that I almost let go of the creature. Then he spat at me, convulsed with hatred. I swung my E at him, striking him in the face solidly with the butt, smashing his face and knocking him right off his feet to collapse like a rag doll in the mud. I leaned over him, took the brainscan from my toolpak, and affixed it solidly to his scalp.

“Make sure he doesn’t die,” I said. “When he comes to, bring him to me. I’ll be over here. Anybody want any dox? I’ve got plenty.” I settled down on a nearby rock to wait.

He didn’t look too good when he was returned to me, standing shakily, face cut and bleeding and swollen purple, both eyes blackened horribly, nose smashed and bleeding, lips cut and swollen, a few teeth missing, mouth bleeding.

“You must answer my questions quickly and truthfully,” I said, still seated, not even looking at him. “We know the difference between truth and lies, and lies will be punished instantly. If you cooperate you will get a quick death. If you attempt to deceive us, we will throw you to the apes. We’ve got cages full of those apesyour apesand they’re getting hungry.”

I held the mindscan reader in one hand. It would determine instantly if the subject was deliberately lying to us, or telling us what he believed to be the truth.

“What is your name?” I began. He was silent. I hit the shock tab. He gasped, convulsed, screamed, and fell to his knees. It was a horrifying, crackling, burning sensation in your headas if your brain was going to explode. We had all experienced it, in Basic, and once was enough for me.

“Name?” I asked again.

“Weklon Mussat,” he gasped.

“Occupation? What do you do?”

“Caretaker. I I clean the temple.” The reader lit up redDeception. I administered another shock. He screamed, collapsed, cried, writhed in the mud, limbs twitching.

“Just tell us the truth,” I said. “Doesn’t your religion believe in the truth? Help him up.” Delta One pulled him roughly to his knees.

“Your occupation?”

“I am a priest,” he said quietly. “I answer only to God!” Truth, the meter read in green.

“A priest!” I said. “Good! I wish to ask about the so-called defilement of the Temple of the Sun. This was a lie, U’tal hate propaganda designed to justify your criminal attacks against our settlers on Fortuna. Who thought up this lie? Do you know?”

“It is not a lie! The defilement was real!” Glaring his hatred at me again. Truth, the meter read.

“Do you believe everything you are told? Did you witness the defilement yourself?”

“I believe what I see! I witnessed it myself!” Truth.

“When did this occur?”

“On the third day of the Sacrament of Blood in the Month of the Golden Hound.” Truth.

“Were you intoxicated on that day? Were you hallucinating from drugs or other stimulants?”

“No! I am a priest of God! God’s presence is my only stimulation.” Truth.

“What did you see?”

He struggled to his feet, his eyes gleaming. “I saw swarms of evil black vultures swoop down to God’s own home and disgorge Satan’s legions, alien monstrosities, clad in black armor and firing their terrible weapons, laying waste to the temple, killing everyone they found, entering God’s sanctuary, striking down God’s holy priests where they stood, seizing our holy relics and unleashing a torrent of fire into the temple.” Truth.

I stood up. “Black armor,” I said. “What did it look like?”

“Like yours!” he snarled, glaring directly at me. “Exactly like yours.” Truth.

“And these vulturesdo you mean aircars?”

“Yes! Satan’s aircars! Over therethey landed right over there.” He pointed past the temple with his bloody nose. Truth, the monitor indicated.

“Did these aircars have any symbols on them?”

“Yes! The sign of Satan’s Legion! That sign there. Your sign.” He was glaring at the Legion Cross on the buckle of my u-belt. Truth, the meter read.

“Why do you come here, to ask about your own crimes?” the priest snarled. “To beg God’s forgiveness?”

“I’ll ask the questions here,” I said. “What did you do when these intruders attacked?”

“I fought them! I defended my God! What else should I do?” Truth.

“How many of your people died?”

“We know not! We do not count those who die defending God! They are uncounted and uncountable. We will all die, if necessary, to defend our God. Count them yourself, if you must know for your unholy liststheir bodies lie all around us.”

“The intrudersdid any of them die?”

“No. Satan’s Legion’s were armoredwe were not. They stayed only long enough to defile the temple and then they departed. Why do you ask me about your own crimes? Now you have returned, and destroyed the temple utterly. Do you think it ends here? God will punish you! God will punish you!” Truth, it said again. Truth, Truth, Truth. My skin was crawling. What the hell was this?

“Why did you attack Fortuna?”

“Because of the defilement of the Temple of the Sun! Why do you ask such stupid questions? Our duty is to defend our God.” Truth, again.

“Is your God pleased when you rape and murder women and children? Is your God pleased when you have your man-apes eat them alive?”

“Yes! He knows it is just punishment, for those who defy Him.” Truth.

“One?” I turned to the squad leader. “We’re taking this one back to Quaba. Make sure nothing happens to him. We need him alive.”

“Yes sir. Let’s go, creep.”

I removed the brainscan from the priest’s bleeding scalp, popped up my visor, and attached the device to my own temple as Delta One led the prisoner away. It was a tight fit inside the helmet.

“My name is Antara Tarantos-Hanna,” I said. The monitor glowed red: Deception. Damn! I had been half-hoping the device had been stuck on Truth.

Chapter 7

Movement, from the Edge

A star tracerfrom Moontouch! A bolt of fear shot through my body. No! Something’s wrong! It’s Stormdawn! What could it be, for Moontouch to send a star tracer? A thin sheen of sweat formed on my brow as I triggered the little card and the d-screen lit up. I was in my cube in Galactic Information on Quaba, but as the message formed on the screen everything slowly went black all around me and there was only the message, handwritten in spidery Taka runes, like silk, silvery, magical tracings, not quite there, fading in and out of my vision. Moontouch. She must have traced it with a light pen; somebody had helped her with the star tracer. What was it? Moontouch was not in the habit of sending star tracers. I know how her mind worked. The longer she ignored me, the greater would be my desire to return. She was right. And now a star tracer! It was bad news, I knew it, even before I read the first word.

“Translate,” I said.

“My King,” the metallic, emotionless voice of the translation unit began, “My Maker, My Soul, My Heart, My Blood, My Sword. We are one. I cry hot salt tears in the Tomb of the Kings, for you, kneeling in fields of holy skulls and chanting dirges to Those Who Have Gone Before. I charge them with your protection, with your Fate. I curse them, for their evil prophecies. I offer my Fate, for yours. They refuse! I burn holy silks, in the Tomb, and pray to the Gods of the Past and the Future, who know all. I pray on all the Kings and Queens of Southmark, in their holy place. I pray to the Golden Sword, on his iron throne. I cut my flesh and scatter my blood before his feet. I wander the Swamp of Lost Souls, singing the Death Song. I pray in the Garden of God, for forgiveness. I wade in the icy waters of the Cold Coast, begging for mercy. I walk barefoot in the Deadlands, a pilgrim to the Past. All is lost.”

I could almost taste the scented ash of that burning silk. I was almost there, thrown into the Tomb of the Kings by Moontouch’s hypnotic words.

“Return to me, O my King. The mailed serpent of time quivers in the shadows. A great evil awaits, breathing, stirring, watching with unblinking eyes. Once again, movement, from the edge. Abandon all hope, unsheathe your sword, and prepare to die for your people. What does it matter, who lives and who dies? What matters is to make a good end. The living maidens of all our dead Kings weave the battle flags of Southmark. To unfurl those holy colors once again, what a rapturous sight! Victory or death, it matters not, we stand by our holy past.

“Return to me, O my King. Your son grows tall and strong. You should see him before he falls in battle defending his people. I am blinded by tears. Black clouds cover the stars, strange evil birds float overhead, tall trees burn in the forest at night.

“When pigs rule,

When apes eat our young,

When tools rebel,

When the strong are weak,

And the weak are strong.

Lies, deception, and needless death

A man with a heart of ice, directing

Puppet soldiers, blind and deaf.

Movement, from the edge.

An evil tide for your people,

For my people.

We are doomed. I chant

Dirges, in the dark, to the holy dead.

The Gods laugh.

You abandon us, again.

I call out, helpless,

in the hands of the Undead

A ladle of cool water

To seal the peace

Our fate unfolds

As you burn the book of laws

To serve the System’s Cause

As a soldier of the Legion.

We are undone.

This is the time for immortals to die,

For eras to end,

For our worlds to stop.

Unsheathe your sword,

Rip the scales from your eyes,

And the wax from your ears.

We all make our own end.

Die for your people, with sword in hand.

They will never forget us!”

Tara swooped into the little conference room impatiently, escorted by a flock of twitching aides. She slammed down a briefing folder onto the table and fell into her airchair. She looked terrific as usualI figured anyone who looked that good in black was bound to rise rapidly up the Legion’s lunatic chain of command.

“Gentlemen! Let’s see it!” She was evidently having a bad day. The room was packed. The lights faded instantly and the wall screen lit up. At first it was hard to see anything, just a cloudy grey sky, then we made it outan aircar, just a faint black smudge, punching a hot combat drop through that smoky sky. Then it was gone.

“Again.” Tara demanded. We looked at it again, and the image froze in mid flight and enlarged slightly, out of focus. My skin crawled. This was it! How many had died, how many were to die, because of this obscene image?

“Details.” she snarled it.

“This was the only visual image captured by Asumara defense forces during the raid on the Temple of the Sun,” the analyst said, “or at least the only image we’ve found so far. We are continuing the search.”

“Details.”

“Analysis of the visual, thermal, electronic and radioactive reflection data reveals the craft to be a Quasar Model 2B armored assault aircar. Probes did not reveal a valid Legion ID pulse.” The screen filled up with data, glowing lines of silvery numerals.

“Why not?”

“Because it had none. The pulse had been removed.”

“Continue.”

“We have a full list of all Quasar Model 2B aircars, from the factory. All were Legion cars. The 2B model was replaced with the C and no 2B’s are currently in service. We have accounted for all cars manufactured. Our records reveal that six Legion model 2B’s were declassified and abandoned as surplus upon completion of our successful campaign on Pherdos. These are the only formerly intact 2B’s not under our control. These cars were inherited by the new Pherdan government when our forces left. We believe it’s possible that the car that raided Asumara is one of those aircars. The data makes it likely, but without the actual aircars we cannot be certain.”

“What are we doing to confirm that?”

“We’re dropping Phantoms into Pherdos to try and ascertain the status of those six aircars. If we can’t do it through aerial recon, we’ll drop in boots and snatch somebody who might know. We’re going over the personnel target list right now.”

“Pherdos,” Tara said calmly, gazing vacantly at the glowing image of that sinister aircar. “All right, but be careful. We don’t need another war with Pherdos. Damn it. Pherdos.” She thought a bit. “I don’t believe it,” she said. “Why would Pherdos want to do that?”

“Revenge?” someone asked.

“No. What’s the point? What do they gain? How can a Con-FreeAsumara war benefit the Pherdan Federation? I don’t think so.”

“Well, who does it benefit?”

“It may be too early to ascertain that,” Tara said. “Perhaps it will become clear later. But we will keep that in mind. And meantime we track down those missing 2B’s. That’s extremely important. Whoever did this has provoked a war between Asumara and ConFree. That makes me angry. That makes me very angry. We will find out who did this. And when we do, we will take appropriate action.”

“Like we did on Asumara?” I asked. All eyes in the room turned to me.

“No,” Tara replied coldly. “It will be worse than that. Much worse.”

“Maybe we should ensure we know the full story before we go to war next time,” I suggested.

“The full story? And what would that be? We knew the full story on Fortuna. The full story was that a raiding party of merciless Asumara crazies and transgen apes raided a ConFree world and slaughtered, raped, cannibalized and kidnapped our people. Do you think our reaction would have been different had we known they thought they had a good reason for doing it? I don’t think so! I don’t give a good God-damn what their reasons may have been. Our reaction was correctto send the bastards straight to Hell, as soon as possible. But I’ll tell you this. I don’t like being used, and I don’t like our troops dying because some scheming psycho bastard is plotting some kind of interstellar political deception operation. And when I find out who did this, and it’s over, I’m going to have his skull displayed on my desk. That’s all. Let’s get back to work.”

Working for Galactic Information was not easy, but you rapidly learned what was really happening in the inhabited galaxy. GI had a seemingly limitless number of information sources sending data to Quaba Hqs, and some days it seemed to me that most of that info was dropping right into my quantum in-tray. GI was always shorthanded and that’s why Tara was not letting me escape, at least for now. My function was to send the data where it was most needed. Attempts to rely on autosystems to sort data had always ended in failure. Our artificial intelligence databanks were powerful, but stupid. All AI was stupid. Only human brains could make the sort of decisions we needed. So there I was, comfortably floating in my airchair, surrounded by datalinks and d-screens and holo fields all imbedded in a glassine wall that could fade away to an instant to transparency or revert in a flash to opaque at a whisper from me. I was down in the war room, one of many little cubes surrounding the master holo hall that depicted humanity’s little slice of the galaxy, but I had the opaque on to limit distractions. We were pretty far underground. They could have dropped an antimat right on our heads and I wouldn’t have even spilled my dox.

Transmissions were flowing in from Santos. I was responsible for the Gulf Union and surroundings. That included all Gulf Union worlds, Nimbos, Yida and a host of others. It also included independent worlds such as Tanami, Sirrah, and Santos. It did not include the Asumara front or the Pegal Stelcom. I was grateful for that, at least. All right, an Embassy cable. Let’s see.

PRIORITY IR GI OUTVAC STARCOM CLASS1

CITE: EMB SANTOS 823477

FOR: IR GI QUABA

DATE: 329/01/07

SUBJ: SANTOS MEDIA UPDATE 329/01/07

TEXT: TWO SIGNIFICANT EVENTS REPORTED IN SANTOS MEDIA TODAY.

1) SANTOS MINISTER FOR INTERSTELLAR AFFAIRS WERT BROANZO EXPRESSES SOLIDARITY WITH ‘FELLOW HUMANS’ ON ASUMARA AND ANNOUNCES THAT ‘FRIENDLY RELATIONS’ WILL BE DIFFICULT TO MAINTAIN WITH ‘AGGRESSOR STATES’ THAT LAUNCH ‘MILITARY ADVENTURES’ AGAINST PEACEFUL GULF WORLDS. ALTHOUGH CF WAS NOT MENTIONED, EMBASSY IS RESPONDING WITH QUERY WHETHER SANTOS WILL MAKE SIMILAR STATEMENT CONDEMNING MILITARY ADVENTURES AGAINST PEACEFUL OUTVAC WORLDS SUCH AS FORTUNA.

2) LOCAL MEDIA HAS REPORTED ‘OUTWORLDER TERRORISTS’ HAVE ASSASSINATED THE DEPUTY SPECIAL ADVISOR TO MINISTER OF EQUALITY RONO SASSOR THIS MORNING. THE DEPUTY SPECIAL ADVISOR’S AIRCAR WAS DESTROYED BY A POWERFUL GROUND TO AIR MISSILE AND HIS SECURITY ESCORTS WERE ALL KILLED BY AN OVERWHELMING FORCE OF ASSAILANTS FIRING MISSILES AND HEAVY AUTOMATIC WEAPONS. AUTHORITIES HAVE LAUNCHED AN INVESTIGATION THAT REPORTEDLY CENTERS ON THE OUTWORLDER CULTURAL ALLIANCE. EMBASSY COMMENT: SANTOS HAS SO FAR MADE NO OFFICIAL STATEMENT ON THIS INCIDENT. IF TRUE, THIS IS THE FIRST INSTANCE OF VIOLENT, ORGANIZED OUTWORLDER RESISTANCE TO THE NEWHUMAN REGIME. THE VICTIM, DEPUTY SPECIAL ADVISOR SALOS ORD, IS AN ORMAN AND NOT A NEWHUMAN. OUR POLICE SOURCES TELL US THAT THE INTENDED TARGET MAY HAVE BEEN THE SPECIAL ADVISOR THEOPOLD LAMAR, ANOTHER ORMAN, WHO CHANGED HIS SCHEDULE AT THE LAST MOMENT DUE TO A CONFLICT AND SENT HIS DEPUTY IN HIS PLACE TO THE SCHEDULED APPOINTMENT.

PRIORITY IR GI OUTVAC STARCOM CLASS1

The Outworlder Cultural AllianceI’ll be damned. I thought back to that Doctor, what was his name, Kaspar, Len Kaspar. Taking action, at last. I’ll be damned. What could I do? I could only pray for them. People had to do what was necessary, for their future, for their children. And what was necessary was never easy. It was always hard to take actionto do what had to be done. It was easy to do nothing.

I clicked on to the Asumara Front, absently. Asumara appeared before me, a great grey-green planet, heavily clouded, oceans of almost black water glittering in faint sunlight. The holo display showed all our forces, thousands of starcraft circling the planet like silver fireflies, each ship labelled in tiny, burning crimson letters, with codes showing the task forces and the missions and ongoing operations and status boxes for the detailsanything I wanted to know, right there before me. Task Force Hammer, Task Force Thor, Task Force Bounty, Task Force Hunter. I always felt better, somehow, watching our assault.

I zoomed in onto the planet. The mottled green continents were speckled with little red dotsdownside Legion and Fleetcom milbases, also labelled, with more status boxes. Every military operation on the planet was right there, Legion attacks and raids and counterattacks and recon missions, air strikes and snatch missions and hunter ops. FCB Delta, FCB Ice, FCB Liberty, Camp Lucille, Camp Stag, Fort Providence, Fort Gala. We were roaming freely over the planet, setting up shop and shattering their military. But it was about time to leave. We had made our point, publicized it throughout the galaxy, and now Asumara could just concentrate on putting out the fires and counting their dead and rebuilding. Maybe, just maybe, they’d think twice before attacking another ConFree world. And it didn’t look like we had to worry about the Pegal Stelcom intervening on Asumara’s side, despite their ultimatum. It was clear that we were very serious, and the Pegal Stelcom would be crazy to get involved.

I noted a long list of downside bases that were ceasing operations and evacing topsides. I was glad to see it.

Asumara flickered, and vanished. What’s this? I hadn’t done a thing. I reached for the controls, but a soft ping announced an incoming message, and a notice appeared on the master d-screen: STAND BY FOR FLASH. ALL CHANNELS OPEN. A sudden silence settled over my cube. The cubes next to me had gone dead as well. It was a little eerie, with the familiar hum and muted hiss of all our workstations suddenly gone. An allchannels flash! What could it be?

FLASH FLASH FLASH FLASH ALL CHANNELS OPEN

CITE STARCOM FLASH 001. TEXT. FLASH COSMIC SECRET ULTRA ALL CHANNELS ALL UNITS. GALACTIC NOVA. WAR WARNING. MAJOR OMNI FLEET MOVEMENTS. OMNI FLEET IS LAUNCHING FROM GASSIES SECTORS 2-4, 5, 7-9, 11-20, 22, 26. NEAR SIMULTANEOUS LAUNCHINGS, OVER 4561 COMBAT LAUNCH WORMHOLES DETECTED AND COUNTING. TARGETS UNKNOWN. THIS IS A FULL STRATEGIC ALERT FOR ALL UNITS. OMNI FLEET APPEARS TO BE LAUNCHING STRATEGIC ATTACK AGAINST UNKNOWN TARGETS. ALL UNITS PREP FOR ATTACK, ALL UNITS LAUNCH, GALACTIC WAR PLAN CRIMSON SHIELD IS NOW IN EFFECT. STAND BY FOR FURTHER INFO.

The O’s! I could only stare at the offending message, stunned. Major fleet movementswar! The wall around my cube dissolved suddenly, revealing the war room in all its awful, vast magnificence. All the stars of the inhabited galaxy burnt a cold milky silver above and around us in an eerie blacklit skyan awesome panorama. Down in the dark, scores of ranking officers fluttered like moths, the silver piping on their dark uniforms faintly luminous in the violet light, their red and green laser pointer beams slashing up wildly among the stars. Off to one side, past the Outvac and the Gassies, past Katag, Coldmark, Uldo and Mongera, far far away in the deep, unexplored frontier a glowing mass pulsed as thousands of crimson dots flickered like bleeding wounds. Launch signaturesmore every instant, peppering the vac. The O fleet was launching, ripping artificial wormholes into the fabric of the cosmos.

Movement, from the edge. Moontouch’s words echoed in my mind. We were going to war with the O’s. Humanity was once again on the brink. Abandon all hope, unsheathe your sword, and prepare to die for your people. Absolutely right, Moontouch. Absolutely right. My skin was crawling. Not the O’snot again! How could we survive?

Sometime near the end of the first week of the war, they forced a bunch of us into the elevators and back to the surface, under orders to return to our quarters and get eight solid hours of sleep. We had been camping out down there, dropping from exhaustion occasionally and sleeping on the floor in shifts.

I staggered out the blast doors, blinking up at the stars. It was a soft, cool night, a great hush under a glorious field of stars. The city lights were all out to confound our foes. I had to think real hard just to remember the way back to my quarters. I paused at the Iron Road with several other exhausted analysts. Low stone buildings lined the broad pedestrian avenue. It looked strange all blacked out. I wanted to walk across the boulevard but there was an obstacle. As we watched, a great phalanx of silent runners came charging out of the dark, ten or twelve abreast, filling the avenue, coming right at us. It was almost like some mad vision. I stood there stupidly wondering if I was imagining it, or they were real. Then they were running past us, hundreds of them, young men clad only in shorts and running shoes. Hundreds? Nothere were thousands, charging past us without a word, focused only on the run. Women tooyoung girls, tight halter tops and shorts and running shoes, that’s allcharging along with their comrades. Stunned, I could only gaze at the numbers stenciled on their shorts12/22. My old unitthe 12th Regiment of the 22nd Legion, reconstituted, after annihilation on Uldo. The 12th, with us again.

The runners were superb examples of Legion youth, lean and hard and tough, not a hint of fat anywhere, hair cut short, long legs flashing over the pavement. Wiry, superbly fit soldiers, ConFree’s finest specimens, handsome young men and beautiful young girls, just out of midschool and Providence and Hell, charging into the future, almost naked, armed only with their unshakable will and everything the Legion had taught them. No doubts, no fear, and no retreat.

Our children, I thought. Our children! Deadman, look at themthey are magnificent. They’re all here, Outworlders and Assidics and volunteers from every race in the galaxy. All ready to spill their blood for their people, for their civilization, for the future, for their own children, if it ever came to that. And what will it come to? Will they all die in the war, a sacrifice for the future? And what will be left? Only the shirkers and the weak, as our civilization slowly expires, its best genetic stock wasted in hopeless, mindless wars?

The runners kept coming. We couldn’t make it across the boulevard, we’d be flattened. We just stood there, watching in awe. Some of the runners were chanting as they swept past us.

“Run! For your comrades!

Run! For your squad!

Run! CAT Three-Two!

Run! Third of the Ship!

Run! For the Twelfth!

Run! Two-Two Rimguard!

Run! For the Legion!

Victory! Victory! Victory!

Victory or death!”

I watched in stupefied exhaustion. These were the people we were sending to war. They’d go anywhere we said, they’d do anything we said. It was our solemn duty to get it right. It was entirely up to us, whether they lived or died. Did I really want this? What the hell was I doing in Galactic Information anyway, hiding underground like a worm? Was that really important? I should be with these kidsfighting for the future.

Chapter 8

Entering the Cathedral

“We’re in, Commander. They’re blind and deafand we’re in.” The pilot almost whispered it. A thrill ran over my flesh. It was a rainy, black night out the armored plex of the Phantomcompletely overcast. And we were invisible. Perfect! We had dropped into the system from the empty reaches of the Outvac, past all their unholy black starships, right into their planetary defensive field. We had listened to it screeching and gibbering in our ears. And we had slipped right in, cloaked in the Legion’s miraculous technology. Right into their heart, just like a silver bullet.

Rain was blasting against the plex like shrapnel. It was all dark out there; I couldn’t see a thing. But I didn’t have to see. I knew exactly where I was. My tacmap told me everything I had to know. It unfolded the terrain below like a magic carpet, guiding us straight as an arrow to the target.

I could hardly believe it. It was actually happening. My heart was thumping and a warm glow ran through my veins. Phantom voices whispered in my ear. The right thing to do is never easy, Tara hissed. Abandon all hope, unsheathe your sword, and prepare to die for your people, Moontouch had written, in spidery Taka runes. Correct, I thought, closing my eyes. You’re both right. Now it’s time to surrender to the Gods, and do the right thing. No matter how hard it is! Just unsheathe your sword, and prepare to die. I felt good, I suddenly realized. Good. Happy. Ecstatic!

The ship lurched, falling wildly. I was right where I wanted to be. That was Andrion 2 out there, where my Legion adventure had begun. Andrion 2 was the only home I had ever had. And my family was out there, my first family, Moontouch and Stormdawn. My lovely wife, my lovely son. Their images were etched into my skin, and their memories were etched into my heart. They were somewhere out there, in the O’s horrific holocaust, and I was going to find them, or die trying. It was a good cause, I thoughtit was the right thing to do. And if I perished, it would be for all the right reasons.

No choice. I had no choice. Nobody has any choice, when the O’s drop from the sky. Their sinister mother ships had appeared first in the Andrion system, dropping an irresistible stream of assault craft glowing like fireflies as they burnt their way down to the surface. There were thousands of starships and tens of thousands of vacfighterswe hadn’t known they had that many. Then, as Fleetcom hurled itself at the alien fleet in an all-out counterattack, another great Omni fleet appeared in the skies over Dindabai. Again, thousands of brutal black motherships, pitted with the scars of the cosmos, and swarms of mindless, seemingly suicidal fighters and unstoppable assault craft, overwhelming our initial defenses. More fireflies, burning obscene paths right into our hearts. Andrion and Dindabaithey were both on the opposite side of the Outvac from the Crista Cluster, some 700 light years away. But we knew the Crista Cluster was their ultimate target. They hadn’t attacked the System, the Pherdan Federation, or any of the other Gassies worlds in the vicinity. They were after ConFree, that was clear. We were the target.

Fleetcom gave it all they had, countering both attacks. The greatest starfleet clash in history was underway, and it was not at all clear who was going to prevail. All we knew for sure was that before it was all over we were probably going to lose an entire generation of Fleetcom officers and mensnuffed out in righteous combat, willing human sacrifices, throwing themselves into the teeth of the O’s merciless assault, before the O’s could reach our home worlds, our women and children. There was no way in hell I could hide any longer in the War Room, with all those holy soldiers dying for me, for my women and children, for us all.

Priestess and Millie had cried like children over the starlink from Veltros, losing it entirely, hugging each other in grief, and the children had howled and sobbed and shrieked, knowing only that Daddy was not coming back. There was nothing I could do at all except tell them, and grit my teeth.

Those initial weeks were grim. We still appeared to have technical superiority in the vac, but they outnumbered us by a terrifying margin. We weren’t getting any help from the rest of humanity. Only ConFree was responding to the Omni’s attack. Did the fools think they could hide from the O’s? If we went under, they’d be next. Traitors! Fools!

“That’s it! That’s your target!” The pilot sounded excited. We were almost floating now, gliding over a wild, tangled forest shrouded in rain, battered by stormy winds. It was a perfect night for a fool like me. Inside the Phantom I was bathed in a crimson glow as I double-checked the tacmap. The coordinates were perfect. A warm thrill ran over my flesh.

“Stand by for insertion!” We crashed through the forest like a titanic brick, snapping huge branches off trees that had stood undisturbed for centuries.

The assault door snapped open abruptly. An icy rain and freezing wind whipped into the cabin. It was as dark as the back of my soul out there.

“Thanks for the lift!” I shouted, and leaped out into the future. Life or death, victory or defeat, it was all the same. We simply did what we had to doonly that. I landed in chest-high undergrowth that writhed in a typhoon of muddy spray whipped up by the Phantom, which was quite invisible.

“Deadman protect you!” the pilot whispered on the tacnet, his last word as he hit the throttle.

“Death!” I replied. What the hell else did we worship? Immortal life, and eternal death. I was in comtop and A-vest, clutching an E and wrapped in a Lizzie camfax cloak. With the Lizzie, I was just about as invisible as the Phantom. It was the latest generation of Legion camo, impregnated with millions of tiny active holo 3D cells that autoreflected exactly whatever was behind youfrom every angle. Right now I was surrounded by a black, wet forest, and the rain was pattering onto my comtop as I followed the faint red lines glowing on my visor to show me the way.

Great gusts of wind whipped the rain almost horizontally through the forest. I opened my visor. The rain battered at my face and the wind whistled through my helmet. I fell to my knees, and grasped a handful of dirt and raised it to my face. I pressed it to my nose and mouth. A pungent, earthy, sharp aroma. Never had I tasted anything better. The wet, muddy soil of Andrion 2my home! I rose to my feet, dropped the soil, and snapped my visor closed. I clicked the safety off my E and set it to auto-x. My tacmod confirmed that the psybloc was active and scanning for Omni psych activity. I had never felt better. I wrapped the camfax cloak tighter around me and set off, into whatever was to be. I was going to find my family, and anyone or anything that tried to stop me was going to die a sudden and extremely violent death. I was as calm as a priest entering a cathedral, and I guess that’s what I was doing after all.

“Omni target,” Sweety reported calmly, “fully armored, armed with Vulcan multistike, safety on, starmass activated, mag shields up, non-directional psyprobes detected. The target does not appear to be aware of your presence. Your psybloc is prepped to respond if probed. Recommend immediate attack with canister and auto-x.” I lay flat on my belly behind my E, wrapped in Lizzie camfax, completely invisible to the O or anyone else, as the adrenaline shot through my body. I was inside the twisted maze of the Queen’s Underway, a series of pitch-black underground tunnels that led from the seven hills of the city of Stonehall into the trackless forest that surrounded it. It was here, in the Queen’s Underway, that I had hoped to make contact with the Taka, and find my family. I knew that the Taka would never surrender to an alien invader, just as they had never surrendered to us, until we showed them that we were on their side after all. And I had no reason to think the O’s would ever learn of the existence of these tunnels. This was where Deadeye and his Taka warriors had rushed Moontouch and Stormdawn when those ConFree traitors had dropped on to Andrion 2 to snatch the Star. I had high hopes that I would find the Taka, and Moontouch, and Stormdawn right here, hiding in the Queen’s Underway. I had been overjoyed when I had found the hidden entrance in a clump of dato palms strangled in thick vines, right where it was supposed to be. I had used it as an exit, years before, to escape Stonehall, running from ConFree, but now it was my entrance, into that magic roadthe path home, to my family. And nowan O! Damn it! They knew about the tunnels! A wave of despair rushed over me.

Pitch black, yes, but I could see just fine. The darksight on my comtop visor lit it all up for me in a soft green, and the zoom sight on my E brought the O right up close and personal. It was glittering in a pulsing violet force field that enclosed its tall, twisted body and made the creature hard to see. I spotted the hot glow of the starmass at the tip of the Vulcan. Safety onthe bastard was off guard! I had a vague impression of its awful split head and noted the strange concave cenite armor plates over its chest. The long, almost skeletal arms and legs, the joints in all the wrong places. They were about six times stronger than we humans, and they were psychers of limitless ability. If one of those merciless bloodthirsty nightmares got its mind wrapped around yours, you were instantly helpless, terrifiedand dead.

All those thoughts flashed through my mind as my finger tightened on the trigger of my E. Two billion humans had been sacrificed, as we tried vainly to resist their attack into our universe, into our galaxy. But we had held them off, until we developed the technology to resist them. It was the psyprobes that had made them irresistible at first. It took us a long time to get the psybloc right. We had used the first generation on Mongera, lighting up the skies with psybloc, to counter the psyprobes. Then later, on Uldo, the labrats had integrated the psybloc units into our A-suit helmets, and given us psybloc grenades. The helmet units had been pretty awkward, but now we were set. My comtop had a little Psybloc Mark 3 unit that autoacted in the presence of psyprobes and also attacked the prober with counterpsych that burnt its way into the creature’s brain and was so maddening that it could knock an O right off its feet.

Bless the techs, I thought. Bless them! They give us life! I used to be terrified of the O’s but now I felt only hate, for what they had done. We saved them from the Plague. We passed everything we knew about the Plague to them, and they had used it successfully. And now they attack us! Die, you bastard!

I fired canister and the tunnel echoed with the eerie crackling buzz of the cenite microdarts, cutting through the O’s force field like a swarm of evil killer bees. My teeth vibrated in response. The violet haze flickered and faded and Sweety switched to auto x-max. The explosive xtex rounds shrieked like banshees from Hell and then erupted all over the O, riddling its armor as the field pulsed wildly, don’t let it trigger the starmass, Deadman, anything but that! I was not in armor, as you can’t hide from the O in armor, and my mission was to hide. But one touch of that starmass and I’d disintegrate into a gas.

The O screeched like a siren and a giant blast of starmass shot down tunnel directly to me, white-hot stellar gas ripping along just under the tunnel roof, annihilating everything it touched, spattering wildly over the walls, sluicing down the corridor floor like lava, bubbling and spitting. I huddled foolishly under my camfax cloak, knowing I couldn’t outrun it. Dead, I thought, I’m dead!

And suddenly the starmass was gone, still hissing and burning on the ceiling and walls and floor but spent and finished. I twitched, and ripped off the burning camfax. The corridor was full of glittering white smoke and my skin was burning as if I had just emerged from the oven. The O had missed me! His blast had just rippled along the tunnel roof! I glimpsed the O back there, collapsed in a pile of twisted armor. I approached it with my E shouldered, set for auto x. The O was shredded, armor pitted and burnt, its bizarre body parts riddled and sliced, oozing greenish blood. Sweety had given it some laser for good measure. Dead, you bastard. Dead! Good!

My heart was still pounding. When I joined the Legion all we could do was run from the O’s. We couldn’t fight them. We couldn’t counter their psyching, we couldn’t counter their mag fields, and we couldn’t counter their starmass. Two billion humans had been killedslaughteredby the O’s, in those horrible, hopeless years. But we could fight them now! We could counter the psyching and cut right through their mag fields like a knife through warm butter. The starmass was still a problem but we had enough now to do the job. I felt a fierce satisfaction, standing over the twisted, smoking, stinking corpse of our most dangerous foe. It was almost like lava, burning in my veins. It was almost like starmass. We’re not afraid of you any more, I thought. And maybe it’s time for you to be afraid of us. Attack us, will you? Well, we’ll just see about that! Did you think we were going to run again? I snapped up my visor and the heat burnt fiercely on my face. I leaned over the O’s corpse and spat on it. Burn in Hell, O!

I soon determined that the Queen’s Underway was entirely too hot for meSweety detected three more O’s hustling my way, probably checking the status of their lost comrade. I knew I’d find no Taka there. I fled the way I had come, back into the trackless Forest of the Treefolk. Outside it was pitch black and raining lightly. I didn’t mind. I walked all night, heading roughly east. The Lizzie was still functional even though portions had been melted by the starmass. I wasn’t worried about being spottedthe Lizzie was not only visually deceptive, but it was engineered to deflect, absorb or destroy a host of electromag and other probes.

It was going to be a long walk, but I felt right at home in the forest. The flowertrees were gigantic, looming like black stone columns all around me. The underbrush wasn’t really too bad. I wasn’t fooling the treefolkthey couldn’t see me but they knew something seriously strange was passing through their domain. They shrieked and boomed from the treetops, running along the limbs high overhead and looking down furiously and sometimes hurling little branches down in my general direction. They were beautiful little creatures, kind of like monkeys and kind of like lizards, with beautiful iridescent greenish scaly skin. They had families, fathers and mothers and kids, just like us. And I suppose they fought each other, just like we did.

From time to time I’d hear distant explosions, and once I spotted a silent phospho silver trail high above the forest canopy, flickering through dark clouds. I wasn’t the only Legion soldier with boots on the ground, that was sure, but the rest of the struggle was unknown to meor to Sweety. If we failed to establish vac superiority, it was all over for Andrion 2. The O had overrun Alpha Station and Farside Base in their initial attack; that was all I knew for sure.

In the soft hush about an hour before dawn I found a tangled mass of foliage and crawled in, exhausted and anxious for a little shut-eye. The plan was to sleep days and travel nights. I found a comfortable bed against a couple of exposed tree roots and wrapped the Lizzie around me and opened my comtop visor and sipped some icy water from my renewable canteen. It was just like the nectar of the Gods, clear and pure and holy, sluicing down my gullet. Who could possibly ask for more? I looked up. The clouds had fled and the stars were coming out, past the twisted black canopy of flowers and leaves. The treefolk were quiet, I could hear a soft breeze and the patter of individual drops, falling down from high above. The air was wet and carried the musk of the forest. I was completely content. I wasn’t worried at all. I knew I had done all I could to accomplish the mission, and would continue doing so, and there was nothing else to do except to meet my fate, whatever it might be.

I was dozing off as the first glimmer of dawn tinted the sky a slightly lighter shade of dark blue. My eyes caught a dark blur against the sky, through a break in the foliage, that gradually lit up with a rosy glow. It was a mountain, a huge blunt mass of rock thrusting abruptly out of the forest, and I suddenly recognized itMount Light! My heart leaped, as the sun’s rays hit it with a golden hueMount Light, where I had fought side by side with my closest comrades, my blood brothers, Gildron and the Taka and Valkyrie and Redhawk. A flood of memories washed over me. It was still a long way ahead, but there it was. I had been parallelling the Grand Canal, but had moved off to the southeast, and had not been expecting to see it. So many memories!

I tried to sleep. I was exhausted, but sleep wasn’t easy, with all that was running through my head. I faded, through waves of prickly heat. Tara whispered to me, back in her office, as we huddled over a recording that had been intercepted somewhere in the Outvac. It was from the O’s and it seemed as if they were broadcasting it to us. It was in Inter, even though they didn’t have vocal chords and couldn’t speak. They must have constructed the message after wandering through some poor human captive’s mind. Tara had made me listen to the damned thing again and again. It was more of a hissing screech than anything elseit gave me the creeps. We could barely make out the sounds, but after several tries I started to understand the words:

Blood blood heart heart side side reach reach touch touch memory memory love love shield shield children children supreme one. Light calm peace eternal one. Duty duty help help touch touch heart heart. Water water promise promise.

Blood ice heart serpent side lost reach lost touch burn memory lost love hate shield sword hatchlings corpse deathlord. Dark cross war eternal one. Duty kill help kill touch kill heart kill. Blood blood false false.

Duty struggle unborn young love sacrifice false hands false love.

It was rhythmic, almost like a wild heartbeat, scratching at our ears. They didn’t think the same as we didtheir thought processes were entirely different. What were they trying to say? It sounded as if things had gone quite wrong, somehow, and they were not happy about it. After the System’s empire had begun to crumble, we had been hopeful that the O’s would leave us alone. After all, we had stopped the Plague, with the fungicide Xeno-A, and passed the genetic profile to the O’s. The White Death had been fatal to O’s as well as humans, and until we came up with Xeno-A it had killed all who were exposed to it, as there was no antidote. We had no way of communicating with the O’s, but they had stopped their advance into humanity’s portion of the galaxy, and we thought it was in gratitude for Xeno-A. It was ConFree that had done itConFree! And now they attack ConFree. It didn’t make sense.

I slept, with the O’s eerie artificial speech whistling in my mind, and Tara fading in and out, listening to it with her eyes closed, not asking me a thing, just bathing in the sound, as if she could absorb it all and understand it all.

I floated from memory to memory, aware that the sequence was not making sense, aware that I was asleep and dreaming, but too tired to fight it. Tara again, just the two of us, in her office. She leaned over her desk, soft hair swirling over her shoulders, activating the big wall screen.

“Here’s the enemy, Wester,” she said softly. “This is the man in the shadows.” He was young, it appeared, most likely an immortal. Average height, slim and active, dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin, clean-shaven, a single lock of hair hanging down loosely over one eye. He stood at a lectern, and he was wearing a uniform of dull silver. I recognized the uniform and the colorsit was reserved for the command levels of the United System Alliance. He was speaking Inter, and gesturing. I sensed that the audience was a small one, but probably an important one.

” you must open your minds to a new way of thinking,” he said, hanging on to the lectern as if for support. “Let our enemies lurch along in the dark ages. They can waste their blood and money on anything we devise. It’s we who will decide this. If we understand their thought processes we’ve already won, and they’ve lost. History? We will make a new history. Resources? We will use no resources of our own. Money? We don’t need itwe’ll use their money. Soldiers? Don’t be foolish.” He leaned forward, anxious. He’s crazier than the O’s, I thought. “Purge your mind of all that nonsense! Let others do our fighting for us. The art of war was known and practiced in ancient Earth. A Chinese general known as Sun Tzu said it best: All warfare is based on deception!” He hissed it, gesturing before him with both hands. “When ready to attack, you must appear unready. When unready you must appear ready. When near, appear to be far away. When far, make the enemy fear you are near. If the enemy is superior, or prepared, avoid him. If he is weak or unready, attack from where you are least expected.

“Ancient history!” He flung his arms up. The view was a little fuzzy. It looked like an eyemote cameraI had seen the product before. “Our enemies know all this, but they are mired in the past and we are not. We improve on Sun Tzu. It’s not necessary to fight at all!” He stared at the audience, cold eyes gleaming, like a snake about to devour a mouse. An Orman, I thoughthe’s an Orman. “Let our enemies exhaust themselves, in endless wars. There’s no need for us to participate. Make a list of our enemies. Arrange the wars. It’s best to destroy the enemy without even fighting him. Let others do your fighting. Infiltrate and subvert his society, if he lets you. This is always best. Then you can shape events. If you cannot do that, exhaust him. When they are weak enough they fall into our hands. The superior mind triumphs. Our enemies are stupid and impatient. We are not.”

He stood there, jaw jutting, triumphant. “You must dare everything! Think the unthinkable! Plan the audacious! Lay your plans well, and hide everything in impenetrable layers of deception and secrecy ” The recording ceased abruptly, a grey screen hissing static. Yesit was surely an eyemote, just snuffed out by some airsec cleanser.

“Where did you get this recording?” I asked Tara.

“I try to attend all his staff meetings. Unfortunately I’ve only succeeded once. This was it.”

“Who is this maniac?”

“His alias is Jarzha Gwinn. We don’t know his true. He was a disciple of Kenton Cotter-Arc. You remember Cotter-Arc. But this one hides in the shadows, just like a snake. He reports directly to Durdreigh Darton, the Mocain Chairman of the PolOr Council and Council of Ministers. He heads up an outfit called Galactic Resources. It doesn’t even show up on their internal organization charts.”

“What’s their mission?”

“Their mission is our destruction, and the System’s revival. And they’re off to a damned good start.”

“Is this the fellow whose skull is going to decorate your desk one day?”

“I do believe he is, Wester. I’m not certain yetbut it sure looks like it.”

A deep rumbling awoke me. Sweety was silent so I knew there was no danger. I lay there in a green cathedral, nestled in leaves and vines, cocooned in the Lizzie, as sunlight dappled the forest canopy far overhead. A few air angels floated past, diaphanous multicolored tissue-like creatures, riding the air currents. The rumbling sounded againheavy, far off eruptions. I thought I could feel the vibrations, deep in my bones. I knew the battle for the vac was still underway and we wouldn’t do any serious downside drops until we had complete vac and air superiority. I felt lazy and tired and wanted to drift off to sleep again, but I couldn’t.

“Sweety,” I said, “get me the news.” I knew the relay station was still up and running. There was a high pitched peeping and then the sonorous notes of home sang in my ears like a chorus of angels, a brief snatch of music that always put a thrill to my flesh for what it meant, and where it was coming from. Then there was only the voice, clear and calm and feminine. “This is the CFIS Galactic Service in the Crista Cluster, with the Galactic News Summary for 329/02/26 CGS compiled at 2000 hours. Greetings from the Confederation of Free Worlds. First in the news, ConFree is continuing to counter the unprovoked attack of Omni forces against the Andrion and Dindabai systems in the Outvac. ConFree’s Fleetcom stellar forces have launched major counterattacks against intruding Omni invasion fleets that have landed heavy ground units on both Andrion and Dindabai. The battle for the vac is continuing with reportedly heavy Omni losses. Fleetcom losses have not been announced for reasons of operational security. Further public information is not yet available on the counterattack.

“The following official statement has been cleared for release by the Executive Council of the Confederation of Free Worlds: ‘To the governments and peoples of the United System Alliance, the Hyades Federation, the Pleiades Association, the Dark Cloud Alliance, the Pherdan Federation, the Gulf Union, the Pegal Stelcom, and all other human worlds and peoples: Once again the peoples of the Confederation of Free Worlds stand alone on humanity’s far frontier against a brutal and unprovoked attack by the Omni horde. Do not think that this bitter struggle has nothing to do with you. This is an attack on humanity, and if the Outvac is overrun by these merciless aliens, the Gassies, the Gulf and the Inners will follow. The Confederation of Free Worlds now calls on all human governments for military assistance, as soon as possible, to help us turn back this evil tide. Join us now, and the peoples of ConFree will never forget your sacrifice. Join us now, and your brave deeds will live on in history and your grateful descendants will bless you. Turn away, and your descendants will curse you, and live in slavery. The outcome of this elemental struggle will determine the survival, or extinction, of humanity.’

“That was the official statement from the Executive Council of the Confederation of Free Worlds. The Galactic Service will continue updating the news hourly. May God protect our brave soldiers “

“That’s enough, Sweety.” The broadcast cut off abruptly. I couldn’t stand it anymore. Deadman! I was better off not knowing.

When night came again I broke camp and started moving roughly east-southeast. Walking through that magical forest on darksight was quite an experience. I thanked Deadman, for allowing me to be there. There was nowhere else in the galaxy that I’d rather be, at that particular moment in time. I was very disappointed that the O’s had penetrated the Queen’s Underway, but there was no sense in crying about it. I knew where Moontouch would go, instead. There wasn’t any doubt in my mind that I’d find her in the Tomb of the Kings, assuming she was still alive.

Of course my personal mission was to find my family, but the Legion doesn’t give free taxi rides to people who have personal problems, especially in time of war. I had a Legion mission too, and it was deadly serious. I had told Tara I was volunteering for the Andrion front. She knew she couldn’t stop me, so she thought up a plan. “You’re closer to the Taka than anyone else, Wester,” she had said. “We don’t know what’s happening downside, but you’ll find that out when you drop. Organize the Taka against the O’s. That’s the mission. If it can be done, do it.” Well, it was fine with me. I could do that, and she had given me the resources should it prove possible.

It was a long walkabout a hundred and ten K. The Tomb of the Kings was at the ruins of Southmark, and Southmark was smack in the middle of the Swamp of Lost Souls. There was no possible reason the O’s would zero on Southmark. Stonehall was a big Taka settlement, but Southmark was just another pile of ruins lost in the forest. I knew she’d be there. I didn’t mind the walkI was equipped to do quite a bit. I had a Legion Phantom on call, should I need it. But I wasn’t going to call the Phantom for a lift. The Phantom was there for my mission, but I didn’t want to take any chances of attracting attention, no matter how invisible she was.

I looked up. The stars were out overhead. What a spectacular night! It was almost as if Deadman had a hand on my shoulder, guiding me onward. I was blessed, I thoughttruly blessed. It’s true, I was only a soldier ant, crawling along the surface of a microscopic world, at the bottom of a thin sheet of atmosphere, lost in the immensity of the universe. But I didn’t care how insignificant we were in the grand scheme of things. My tribe, my nation, my race, my species was engaged in a titanic struggle with deadly alien invaders who would exterminate us all if we let them. And I was part of that. As I looked up at the stars each night of my march, strange flashes and glows would erupt from time to time, then fade. Hot glittering tracers cut their way across the velvet dark and once a shower of fiery debris burnt through the atmosphere, followed by a deep rumbling. That’s all I saw of the Battle of Andrion Deep, but it was enough. It’s part of the history books nowthe greatest ship to ship starfleet engagement in galactic history. I prayed for them, I prayed for all our troopies, vacheads and boots, and I prayed for victory.

“Attention, Three! Uniden targets, as zeroed!” Sweety was on top of the situation. “I detect three E Mark 3 battle rifles, safeties off.” I was infiltrating the ruins of Southmark, creeping noiselessly through the forest that hid the dead stone city under a pitch-black night. My journey was overI was almost within sight of the Temple of the Virgins, I was almost there! And now this! I froze, under the Lizzie. The targets glowed red on the tacmap that appeared on my visor. Three of them.

“Human!” Sweety reported. “Three humans, equipped with three E’s and three active psybloc units. I advise no movement. I detect no further energy equipment. Targets are also armed with a trident, a spear, a war hammer and three knives. One armored chest plate.”

Taka! My heart leaped. Thank Deadman! But wait a moE’s and psybloc units? What the

“Sweety! Who are these people? Are they Legion?”

“Twelve. There are no Legion ID units. They appear to be Taka.”

“What are Taka doing with E’s and psybloc?”

“I have insufficient data to answer the question accurately, Three.”

Damn it! I knew I had to be careful here. Let’s not jump to conclusions. The O had the power to seize anyone’s mind, and I didn’t know whose side these three were on, Taka or not. Where did they get the E’s? Why would they wear psybloc units, if they were on the other side? I set my E to vac. I didn’t want to kill anyone until I knew what I was doing.

“Do they see me, Sweety?”

“There is no sign that they are aware of your presence.” It was dead quiet all around me. All the insects and birds and tree-dwellers were silent. I knew the Taka would be aware of that. One of them moved, stealthily, heading my way, just like a bloodcat stalking its prey. They knew something was wrong. I raised my E to zero him.

“Taka!” I shouted in Taka dialect, “I am Slayer, blood pledged to the Clan of the Sun! I come in friendship! Lower your weapons and I will lower mine!”

The answer came an instant later, as all three Taka cautiously continued maneuvering closer to me, trying to spot me. “Show yourself, Slayer of the Clan of the Sun!”

“Lower your weapons first and I will show myself! I see all three of youyou cannot hide from me. I greet my brothers! What clan are you?” They stopped, frozen, desperately trying to spot me. I huddled under the Lizzie, invisible.

“We are Dark Clouds, and pledged to kill all intruders into our realm! You approach sacred ground, and your name is unknown to us. Stand forth, if you are a friend! Why do you hide in the dark?”

“I am Slayer, pledged to die for the Clan of the Sun and for the Dark Cloud! I am husband to your Queen Moontouch, the guardian of the Tomb of the Kings, and I am father to your Prince and future king, Stormdawn, and I am blood brother to your war chief Deadeye Standfast, Waterwalker, who defies the Gods. What more do I need? I stand forth nowif you fire, I fire also!” I dropped the Lizzie and appeared, as if by magic, about midway between the three of them. They spotted me instantly and slowly lowered their E’s. I walked up to the nearest one and extended a palm. He responded with an open palm and it was done.

“Greetings to the people, from one sworn in blood,” I said. “Why are you armed with Legion weapons? Where did you get the psybloc?”

“Greetings, Slayer! I am a foolI did not remember your name. We welcome you! You have returned, in our time of need!” He was a young warrior with wild hair, a narrow face daubed with white and black war paint. A big exoseg tooth and a psybloc unit dangled from around his neck. He was barefoot, dressed in skins and carried a spear on his back and a crude knife tucked into his waistband in addition to the E.

“Greetings, Slayer!” the second Taka said. “This fool is Dead Leaf. My name is Sworn to Die. Our companion is Swift Foot. We were given these weapons in friendship by our Legion brothers from Alpha Station.” He was taller and more muscular than the other, with long hair decorated with flowers, carrying a trident on his back as well as the E. He too had a psybloc unit. “We have killed many Undead! They are stupid, to challenge the Taka nation! We cut them into pieces and bathe in their evil green blood!”

“What did you call them?” I asked.

“The Undead! The Legion calls them O’s. We call them ” I held up my hand. I call out, helpless, in the hands of the Undead Moontouch’s words echoed in my mind. An icy fear ran through my veins. “Do not boast,” I resumed. “It is not easy to kill the O. Tell me the truth! I have come here to help you fight the O, but you must tell me the truth.”

“I speak the truth, Slayer!” Sworn to Die pulled his skins away from his chest, revealing a huge, dark metallic slab. It was an armored O chest plate! I reached out as if in a trance to touch it. Dead Leaf held up what looked like a filthy, blood-caked series of sausages that had been dangling from his waist. It was a hand. A huge O hand, claw-like appendages and charbroiled dead flesh. Swift Foot held up another hunk of blood-encrusted flesh.

“The Undead’s heart, Slayer,” Swift Foot said, smiling broadly. “I took it from his chest. He did not need it.”

“We speak the truth,” Sworn to Die repeated. “We are not afraid of these creatures. We kill them like bugs. They came to our world uninvited and they will all die here. All of them!”

“I take back my words,” I said. “You are warriors! You are great warriors! The Taka nation will live!”

“As long as one Taka warrior still lives, the Taka nation will live. You know that, Slayer of the Clan of the Sun. You know that.”

Chapter 9

First Cut

“Deadye Standfast has just returned from the hunt,” Sworn to Die said, “and he will surely have killed many Undead. You can join our next hunt, Slayer!” We were proceeding single file through an icy cold tunnel hacked out of the earth deep under the ruins of the Temple of the Virgins. Sworn to Die held a flaming oil-soaked torch aloft that cast spooky shadows over the dripping roof and dirt walls. Swift Foot and Dead Leaf followed behind me. It was narrow and claustrophobic and I had to crouch down to avoid the roof. I was sweating, despite the cold. I hated the underground.

“You have still not told me about my Queen, and my son,” I said.

“Deadeye Standfast will have all the answers for you, Slayer. I am a warrior. I know nothing of these matters.”

“This is not the route that we used when Moontouch brought me to the Tomb of the Kings.”

“No, Slayer. The Tomb is holy. We camp in the Guardian’s Gallery. It is where the soldiers of the Golden Sword once guarded the tomb. Now, the Taka race has again arisen. Once again, we guard the Tomb of the Kings from alien intruders. We have arrived, Slayerbehold the Guardians’ Gallery.”

We stepped out of that narrow tunnel into a wider area, flickering with smoky torches and smouldering campfires. It was still very dark, but the place was full of movement. I could barely make out what appeared to be a stone roof and stone columns lining a wide gallery floored with slick, wet paving stones. Everything was very old, encrusted with centuries of filth. The columns were carved with ancient runes, from some long-dead language. As we walked down the gallery, we were surrounded by crowds of curious Taka. Most of them were young warriors, decked out in death paint, but there were women and children too, gaping at us.

“Is he a prisoner?” someone asked in Taka. “Can we kill him?”

“Stand back!” Sworn to Die bellowed, “I bring an honored visitor! Where is Deadeye Standfast? Your blood brother approaches!”

We stopped by a column where a campfire flickered, barely illuminating the pale face of a young warrior with long tangled dark hair, naked to the waist. He looked up at me, and I could see the weariness ground into his face. His right arm was bleeding and a lovely, silky-haired honey was caring for the wound. It was Deadeye. He still wore that necklace of exoseg teeth, and a dark medallion showing the crown and skull of Southmark hung from a leather thong around his neck.

“Slayer!” He stood up, stunned. “Slayer! You have returned.”

“Deadeyemy blood brother. I greet you. I pledge eternal loyalty to the Taka nation. Of course I have returned! Where is my wife? Where is my child?”

Deadeye looked at the others, grim faced. “Leave us,” he commanded. They faded away into the darkness. “Sit, Slayer. It is good to see you. We have tea. Have some goldpetal tea.”

I sat by the fire, as he poured some tea.

“Victory!” he said, raising his cup.

“Victory!” I replied. We downed the tea.

“Where is my wife?” I repeated. “Where is my son?”

“Your son Stormdawn, our future king, the hope of our race, was last seen leading our brave warriors into battle against those vile alien invaders. Your wife, our Queen Moontouch, the Guardian of the Tomb of the Kings, is a captive of the Undead.”

“The Battle for Alpha Station was horrible for both sides,” Deadeye said. “Many of your people died, and many O died as well. The Legion fought strongly but they were overwhelmed.” We were sipping more tea, and the honey was back to work on Deadeye’s arm. I was catching up on local developments. I’d learned all I could about Moontouch and Stormdawn and was thinking about what I’d learned. Deadeye was almost suicidal when he talked about Moontouch, but he knew he could not desert his people in the midst of the war.

“The black ships landed all around the Station,” Deadeye related. “Some ships crashed there. The Undead soldiers came out of the ships, killing everything that moved. Our scouts could not see inside the station but they saw that many of your people were running to escape the station and they were killed outside. There was a lot of fighting outside. Many O’s were killed by your people. Many, many O’s. All of Alpha Station is surrounded by corpses, humans and Undead. All of your people with the psybloc fought like warriors until they were killed. Those without the psybloc were helpless and they died like old women.

“So many Undead were killed that some of your fighters were able to escape. They brought cases of E’s and psybloc with them, and gave them to us, and our warriors joined yours. Alpha Base is surrounded now, by your fighters and ours. If we have the psybloc there is no need to fear these creatures. When they show their ugly faces, we kill them. Now they are trapped in the station, leaving only by manbird and starship. They have also taken your Farside Base, but we did not witness what happened there.”

“How many E’s and psybloc units do you have?”

“Not enough! If we had more, the entire Taka nation would throw itself at these alien monsters, and kill them all. We are not afraid of them!”

“If I could give you six hundred E’s, two thousand five hundred psybloc units and two thousand five hundred camo cloaks what could you do?”

Deadeye smiled. It was kind of a scary smile. “With that, we will do as I said. We will kill every O we find, and we will retake Alpha Station and Farside Base for our Legion brothers.”

I raised my cup. “Victory.”

“Victory,” he replied. “Would you like to see an Undead die? We are about to kill one. You can kill it, if you like.” He stood up. “Come.”

“Where are we going?”

“Not far. Follow me.”

I was astounded when I saw what they had done. They had an O, a live Omni, trussed up in nets and vine thongs, lying on the floor of an adjacent chamber, surrounded by a noisy mob of Taka. It had been stripped of its armor and clothing. It was huge, almost like a giant exoseg, great long twisted arms and legs, drawn up to its body under the vines. The awful split head, bleeding green liquid, the savage mouth open, revealing needle teeth. The eyes were dull, almost closed. They were poking at him with sticks, pricking him with their spears and tridents and throwing rocks. Most of the Taka did not have psybloc, so there was definitely something wrong with that O. My psybloc did not even activate. Yeshe was probably close to death. I flashed in an instant to that horrible scene, ages ago, when I had first met the Taka, as a young Legion trooper. Then it had been me and my comrades trussed up in the net. I stared at the O without emotion. I used to be terrified of them, I thought. But I’m not afraid of them any more.

“We will cut him up alive, Slayer,” Deadeye announced, “and mount his head on the gates of Stonehall, after we liberate our world.” It was hot and sweaty and cold at the same time, and the screams of delight from the Taka were deafening. A live O! Deadman’s death! What could the Legion do with a live O?

“Would you like the first cut, Slayer?” Deadeye asked.

“It’s all clear, Highnote,” I said over the tacnet. “The locals you see are all with me. Come on in.” It was the following night. I huddled with Deadeye and his gang of Taka around the edges of a slight clearing in the forest. The clearing erupted in a sudden windstorm, an explosion of mud and dirt whipping all around us. A faint keening sound raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Our Phantom suddenly appeared, a giant, obscene black bat, settling down into the clearing. We ran toward it as the assault doors snapped open. Deadeye’s warriors began offloading the dropboxes of E’s and psybloc. Each dropbox had ten E’s. There were crates of grenades and packs of Lizzie camfax as well. I leaped into the Phantom and greeted the pilot.

“Thanks for coming,” I said. “I won’t be leaving. But we’ll take all the goodies. And I have a package for you to deliver. I think they’ll want it in Quaba, but that’s up to the Legion. I’ve sent a burst to Galactic Information so they’ll know about this. Report back to your CO and tell them what you’ve got and ask them to check with GI.” The hold was now emptythe Taka worked fast.

“Sure,” the pilot said. “What’s the package?”

“It’s right there,” I said. The Taka loaded the O in, still firmly wrapped in the net.

“Deadman! Is that an O?”

“Yep. Sure is. And it’s alive.”

“I can’t take that! There’s only me! What if it gets loose, takes control of my mind? Are you crazy?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have some help.” Two Taka warriors jumped in, grinning, hauling E’s, psybloc around their necks. “If the O gives you any trouble they’ll quiet him down,” I said.

“Hold it! Those aren’t Legion troopers! They’re not authorized to carry E’s! I can’t allow them on board! I can’t “

“Trooper, I’m a Legion Commander, warname Thinker, and I am ordering you to get this O back to a secure Legion facility as soon as possible, and for your own security I insist that these two folks accompany you to guard the prisoner. You fly the Phantom, they guard the prisoner. It’s vital that this creature is transported back to Galactic Information.”

“Yes sir! It’s against all regulations.”

“We’re at war, trooper. Regulations don’t matter any more. The only thing that matters is winning the war. And getting this creature back to Quaba could win the war for us. Get moving.”

“Will you need another pickup?”

“Don’t know. I’ll send a burst to GI to advise about that. Good luck. And don’t worry about the Taka. They’ll handle the critter, and they’ll follow your orders.”

“Yes sir! May Deadman be with you.”

“And you!” I leaped off and the assault doors snapped shut and the Phantom burst upwards in a rush, suddenly invisible, raising another dirtstorm that gradually subsided.

“Now let’s see about Alpha Station,” I said to Deadeye.

“Will you let us kill the Undead that are there?” Deadeye asked. “Or are we going to send them all back to your world?”

“Deadeye, you can now kill just as many as you want.”

“Good!”

Chapter 10

Deathpaint and Psybloc

“Wait here, Slayer.” Deadeye disappeared into the dark. We were within sight of Alpha Station except that it was the pit of the night and we were huddled in the tangled undergrowth of a thick forest of dato trees and I hadn’t yet had a glimpse of the station. I craned my neck to see through the trees.

“Careful, Slayer,” Sworn to Die warned me in Taka. “The Undead fire at any movement.” I had finally gotten around to asking. It seemed the Taka called the O’s “the Undead” because they weren’t dead yet, but they would be as soon as some Taka did the right thing.

“Right.” I froze. There were a whole lot of us, hundreds of Taka in Lizzie camfax, combat dispersed, creeping through the dark towards the objective. Every one of them had an E and a psybloc unit. I had personally made sure they knew how to fire the E. We now knew that the O could not detect the Lizzie, and that helped us a great deal.

My tacmap projected Alpha Station onto my visor, thin green lines showing the station behind the trees. It gave me a little chill. That’s where we were goingO’s or no O’s. Who the hell did they think they were, dropping onto my world? Deadman was about to avenge all those dead Taka and Outworlders. And I was Deadman’s sword. I felt great. My face was daubed crudely with Taka deathpaint as Sweety whispered in my ears, her voice like a soft, warm wave gently rippling over the sands of some phantom beach.

“Heavy Omni activity in and around Station, as marked. No humans detected yet except for our forces. Random psyprobes from Omni external defense forces. All our psybloc is active but will not counterprobe until you give the word, Three.”

“Thank you, Sweety.”

“It’s nothing, Three.”

The night sky flickered briefly, revealing low, black clouds close overhead. It was cold and smelled of rain. A deep rumble rolled across the sky. Then the sky lit up, a searing, soundless flash, fading to darkness, then another. A titanic blast shattered the silence, leaving me shocked and twitching. Multiple phospho trails suddenly streaked across the sky, blinding white, followed by a grinding, ripping, snapping orchestra that told of unimaginable forces tearing something to shreds. The burning wreckage fell slowly to the horizon, a terrible, eerily beautiful scene, and I knew it was a tragedy for someone, Legion or O’s, I didn’t know which. Far overhead hot blue specks flickered in and out of sight behind black clouds, a deadly ballet. I watched it with a kind of detached fatalism.

“Legion fighters,” Sweety whispered.

“Slayer!” Sworn to Die called out, “Deadeye Standfast approaches.”

“Are you Commander Thinker?” An Outworlder in Lizzie, A-vest and comtop appeared out of the dark by Deadeye’s side. “Welcome to Andrion 2. I’m Stones, Captain of Recon 919, Task Force Boots. We’ve been downside twelve days and we’ve reinforced surviving Legion units.” He looked like a kid, just out of Hell. I knew better.

“Stones has saved many of our people, Slayer. And killed many Undead.” Deadeye always looked best in warpaint, all decked out for his own death, a grim shadow in a camfax cloak, all set to reach out and kill you.

“Nice to meet you, Stones,” I said.

“I understand you’ve brought a bunch of auxiliaries, sir,” Stones said. “How many do you have?”

“We’ve got roughly four hundred and fifty combat-dispersed in this immediate area, with another one hundred and fifty on the wayand every one is equipped with an E, Lizzie, and psybloc.”

“Excellent! Do they know what they’re doing?”

“Yes.”

“Whose orders will they follow?”

“They’ll obey Deadeye. And Deadeye will obey me.”

“Excellent. I like your war paint. All right, here’s the sit.” He unfolded a silky color tacmap showing Alpha Station with all enemy units highlighted in red.

“Thinker! It’s 019. Remember me? Beta Squad, 1st platoon, 5th Training Company, BT.” It was another Legion trooper, snapping his visor up, revealing a slim, pale face with thoughtful eyes.

“019! Of course. It’s great to see you here.” I grasped his arm. I did remember him, a slight, intense trainee. I hadn’t been sure about him, but here he was, right in the thick of it.

“I made Recon! I told you I’d make Recon.” He was beaming. Beaming, in the face of death. One of our weakest students. No, ConFree wasn’t ready for the ash heap of history. Not yet, not with all these kids throwing themselves at the enemy. I felt so good right then, with Trainee 019 at my side. My faith was instantly renewed.

“What’s the plan?” I asked. We went back to the tacmap.

“That’s the sluice troughsee it?” Stones had it highlighted on the tacmap.

“I’ve got it.” It was on Sweety’s tacmap as wellI made sure of it.

“That’s our back door. It runs underground from several industrial waste outlets to a series of decontamination and purification chambers, even further underground. We don’t have to worry about those. We enter right there, at that red dot. It should be on your tacmap as well by now. Got it?”

“I got it.”

“We’ve already tunneled in there.”

“I had been planning on using the power service tunnels.”

“Can’t do it. The O’s seem aware it’s a vulnerability. But it looks like they haven’t discovered the sluice trough yet. We’ve saturated the station with eyemotes. We know exactly what’s happening.”

A searing, deafening blast turned the night white-hot for a frac, and I could suddenly see Alpha Station, harshly illuminated by a swirling ball of fire that was rising slowly into the dark.

“Deadman!” I exclaimed.

“That’s our diversion. Tacair is going to keep their heads down. Also, it would be helpful if your auxiliaries could fire aimed shots at any O that shows his face. We’ve been doing that regularly at night. If we stopped doing it, it would seem unusual.”

“How do they respond?”

“They’re very wary now. Before recon arrived, Legion escapees from the Station were raising hell at night, sniping and shelling and mining. At first the O would respond aggressively, but they had trouble finding their targets, and the targets were shooting back. After recon got here, our weaponry and tactics got better and the O have been running scared. We’re pinning them down. Do you know how great that is? We’re pinning them down.”

“I know exactly how great it is. Deadeye, we’re doing a recon into Alpha Station. Your mission is to secure this side of the Station. If any O shows himself, you shoot him dead. Tell your warriors you want only aimed shotsno autofire. First canister. Once the shield goes down, use x. Single, aimed shots. If you get two O’s I want it done with two canister rounds and two xmax.”

“We will bring you the heads, Slayer!”

“Don’t take any chances, Deadeye.”

“Tell that to the women, Slayer. We live to die!”

“Almost there.” Stones’ voice echoed in my comtop. I was slithering through waist-high brush like a snake, enveloped in my Lizzie. A full-scale air raid was ripping through the air above us. Every frac or so everything would light up in a white phospho flash and I’d freeze. Then it would fade to black and I’d resume crawling. The sky was full of tracers, flickering downwards like hot hail. Alpha Station was burning, glowing in the night,. I sure hoped there would be something left for us.

A putrid, rotting corpse was sprawled just to my left. A faint breeze moved a shredded fragment of cloth. Such light, silky clothit must have been a female. The fields around Alpha Station were covered with bodieshundreds of them, Legion soldiers and ConFree civilians, men, women, children, and Taka, all warriors, and O’s too, still in their A-suits. It was a killing ground. I tried not to look at the corpseit was burnt to a crisp, clearly from starmass. Just ahead I spotted a rotting skull, still partially encased in dead flesh. The birds had been busy. I vowed, once again, that the O would pay for their bloody deeds. They were not going to escape Legion justice. We were going to kill them all. Not one O would escape Andrion 2, if the Legion had anything to say about it. And we did!

“Omni target ahead, Thinker, see the zero. A&A, mag shield active, Vulcan on, projecting random psypower, not yet in range.” Sweety was as calm as ice. Damn it! I hit the zoom and spotted the O easily. He was not far from the stationa sentry, no doubt. Why the hell hadn’t Deadeye’s guys spotted him? Then I realized he was hidden from their view by a projecting wall of the station.

“Stones, Thinker. I’ve got an O on scope. I have to take him out or he may spot us.”

“Go ahead, sir.”

I set my E to canister and aimed carefully. The zoom brought the O’s faceplate right up closeI could even see his ugly split head. The O’s mag shield flickered a very faint violet. The damned things used to be invulnerable to us, with that force field. Even tacstars couldn’t hurt them, with the mag shield up. But they weren’t invulnerable any more. I gently touched the trigger. The canister rounds hit him like a swarm of killer bees, ripping aside the madly whirling molecules of the force field, peppering his armor. I fired xmax, one round, right into his helmet. It exploded inside and blasted his head to a shredded goo.

“Target eliminated,” I reported.

“All right, we’re at the entrance. Get over here.”

The entrance to the sluice trough was at the bottom of a very narrow slit trench cut down through spongy soil with a plasmapak. We were a squad of eleven Legion soldiers, ten recon boots and me. We were all in litesuits, A-vests, and comtops, carrying E’s and psybloc, wearing Lizzie camfax cloaks. As Trainee 019, warname Bluesky, sealed the narrow entrance above us with the camo plug, we were plunged into the deepest gloom and my darksight activated. We were squatting by a cenite pipe that had a large opening slashed into it. It didn’t look large enough to admit a child.

“Are we really going in there?” I asked.

“Yes sir. We should be able to get through according to the measurements. Anything wrong?”

“Oh no! I’m looking forward to it! Tell meit seems to me this raid would be a perfect use for Holo-X. I’m surprised the Legion is not using Holo-X.”

“Ah well, that’s ideal all right, but I was told we don’t have vac superiority yet.”

“I see.”

“Without vac superiority you won’t have a stable topside platform to project your Holo-X.”

“That’s true. Yes, true. We seem to be raising hell though. Any hints when we’re going to win the vac?”

“I think the first hint is going to be when about five hundred Legion troopers overrun Alpha Station and slaughter all those O’s. Some of them will be Holo-X but with those numbers a whole lot of them will be flesh and blood as well.”

“I guess you’re right. All right, follow me.” I squeezed my way into the narrow pipe. I was terrified. My claustrophobia wasn’t getting better with the passage of time, but I was the leader and I had to go first. Deto!

All I really remember about that fun little crawl, besides the sheer horror of it all, was the realization that I was going first, that I was the point for the Legion’s bloody retribution for everything the O’s had inflicted on Andrion 2my adopted world. As I slithered along that filthy pipe like a poisonous snake my E was pointed right ahead and I felt a tremendous determination. Deathpaint and psyblocit was a terrible combination. I was going to avenge all the Taka who had died for their world, and I was going to avenge all the Outworlders who had died for their civilization, for their race, for their people. That’s what it was all about in the endpeople. I guess that chased away all my fear. What the hell did I have to fear? I was Deadman’s sword. It was the O’s who had better fear me, not the other way around.

Still, it was pretty scary. There wasn’t even enough room to turn around. The sluice pipe was surrounded by tons of earth and stone, and if anything went wrong I knew I’d die miserably, hopeless and terrified. As I crawled forward through the muck, I tried to concentrate on the mission. Stones had told me Recon’s mission was threefold: first, determine the O’s positions and capabilities. They’d already done that, mostly through the eyemotes. Second, raise as much hell as possible to keep the O’s off-balance when the main attack came. Third, capture a live O and return it to Legion forces upside. Stones had been greatly relieved when I told him that mission number three was already accomplished. Now they could concentrate entirely on having a fun timemission number two.

My personal mission was to recontact my wife and child and by this time I thought this could best be done by liberating as many Taka prisoners as possible from the O’s. I had already accomplished Tara’s mission by arming and training new Taka soldiers and setting them loose against the O’s. Now it was time to free some prisoners. And there wasn’t much time left. O shuttles and starships were still leaving the planet regularly, and the eyemotes told us some of them were loaded with ConFree and Taka prisoners. I knew Fleetcom was targeting and destroying all the O ships they could intercept, and nobody was asking about the cargo. The cargo didn’t matter, even if it was our own women and children. We’d rather see them dead than captives of the O’s. I felt the same. We all did. We knew all about the O’s.

“We’re here, gang!” I announced. The removable grille was right where the tacmap said it should be, an icy pale metallic grate, set into the side of the sluice trough, just before the waste intake mechanism that was set into the floor of the aircar garage. It was right next to my visor. It was so damned beautiful I almost kissed it. It opened right into the garage subfloor, so the techs could get access to the sluice trough if anything went wrong. My blood was ice cold. A burst of hot emotion rushed over me. We had made it! We knew the aircar garage was full of prisoners, Outworders and Taka, all those who had not yet been murdered. The eyemotes told us the whole story. Women, children, babiesforced in there, a convenient holding site before being loaded onto the alien ships. Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless I touched the grille. No longer hopeless. I felt so good it was scary. I knew I wasn’t human any more, at that point. I was Deadman’s Dog, and I was out for blood.

“All right,” I said quietly. “Let’s kill some O.”

Chapter 11

Missing in Action

The subfloor was a blacked-out underworld crowded with power systems, water and waste pipes, cables and storage lockers. Our entryway to the aircar garage was a short staircase leading up to a metal door. The damned thing wasn’t even locked. The O’s weren’t quite as efficient as we fearedit was an extensive base, and we knew it a lot better than they did.

I paused for a moment, looking over the tacmap. The other ten recon troopers were right behind me. The tacmap showed the garage was full of aircars and also full of humanshundreds of them. Their Omni guards were there too. Sweety highlighted the O’s for us, coloring them a bright red on the tacmap.

“Six Omni targets, Three.” Sweety’s calm voice was meant for us all. “All targets are unarmored, shields down, armed with Vulcan multistrike, safeties on, all targets projecting random psypower. Target selectionnow. Suggested attack approachesnow. See the tacmap. I suggest xmax or laser, single shots, no need for canister. I will counter and reverse their psypower at your command, Three.”

“Thank you, Sweety,” I said. Unarmored! No shields! What a break! They saw no need for armor or shields inside the baseall they had to worry about was a bunch of helpless, psyched captives. Sweety had assigned primary targets for each of usand secondary targets as well.

“Do it, Sweety. Death!” I said, kicking open the door and charging in. It was very dark in there, only a few pale lights dotting a vast open area full of shadowy, still aircars. The entire garage was full of captives, Taka and Outworlders, huddled silently, motionless, in hopeless little groups, clinging to life in the face of certain death. My darksight lit it all up for me in a pale green as I ran past them but I wasn’t looking at the captives. I was looking for the Undead, and they were glowing red on my visor. I shot my first target with xmax, blasting it right in its sickening concave chest, snapping my E to my secondary target as the garage suddenly erupted with deafening multiple blasts of X and the icy snapping of laser bursts. I hit the secondary with laser, walking it vertically down the O’s tall body, ripping the creature wide open.

“All targets down,” Sweety reported. “Recommend confirm status of Targets Three and Fivelife functions still active.” I ran over to Target Three, twitching on its back, shocked glazed Omni eyes looking up at me. I blasted its split head with x as another trooper finished off Target Five. I felt nothing at all except hate.

“All Omni life functions terminated,” Sweety reported. Good! And they hadn’t got off a single blast of starmass. Good!

“Get to work!” I shouted. “Get that opstar in place! Four, Five, you’re on the internal doors, prep for an O counterattack Get these captives up! ATTENTION ALL OUTWORLDERS AND TAKA!” Sweety amplified my voice to fill the garage. “You have just been liberated by Legion forces! We’re taking you out of here. Do exactly as we say and ask no questions. Stand up now. Leave any belongings you may have. Follow us now. Don’t say a word. Keep silent, make no noise!” I bellowed. I repeated the instructions in Taka. Bluesky and two other troopies were herding the frantic refugees together and leading them to one of the aircar gates. That was the planwe knew we’d never get that gang out through the sluice trough.

“O forces responding.” Sweety cut in. “Armored O’s approaching Doorway Two, three O’s, armored and armed, mag shields up, armed with Vulcans, safeties off, psyprobes targeting garage, I am countering and reversing the probes now, recommend full auto canister, full auto xmax to counter ” Armored O’s, I thought, shields upscut!

“Fire tacstar,” Stones ordered calmly. The tacstar vaporized Door Two at exactly the same time that the aircar gates, on the opposite side of the garage, snapped open. The glare from the tacstar briefly revealed hundreds of former captives, mostly women and kids, rushing out the wide aircar gates. I caught a quick glimpse of a fiery night sky, crisscrossed with glowing tracers, but I had no time for that. I shouldered my E and fired auto canister into the section of wall where Door Two had been. A glittering burst of starmass shot out of the wall, ripping out and settling over everything, hissing and roaring, splattering everywhere. Aircars glowed white hot and exploded, blasting shrapnel everywhere. Screams echoed on the tacnet. The heat of the starmass burnt at my flesh, but the blast missed me. I ran forward, firing canister into the mess.

“Who’s hit?”

“Recover casualties! That O is still moving!”

We blasted the source of the starmass. Another horrible burst of plasma shot out of the jagged, glowing hole in the wall, and it caught a recon trooper dead-on. He flared up and died like an erupting star. Sweety found the O for me and I fired canister and another trooper fired a tacstar and the mini-nuke blew away the remainder of the wall.

“All three armored O targets are terminated, Three,” Sweety reported.

“Oh Deadman!” someone cried out, “Stones and Shadows are both gone!”

“Heavily armed O reaction force approaching from Door One,” Sweety reported, “Five armored O’s, armed with Vulcans, mag shields up, safeties off, psyprobes targeting garage “

“All right,” I ordered, “withdraw through the aircar gate under cover of tacstars, canisters and xmax. Last man out, set off the opstar. The mission now is to escort those refugees to safety in the forests.” I knew we couldn’t recover our dead. There was nothing to recover.

I fell to one knee just outside the open aircar gate and fired a stream of canister just over the head of our last trooper as he ran from the garage, his mission completed. I fired bursts of flame into the garage as he ran past me, then I rose and followed him. The night sky was lit up as if for some barbaric spectacle, burning white hot flashes, burning black clouds edged in fire, lasers and auto x ripping close overhead, terrifying blasts erupting from the station, writhing fireballs rippling up into the flickering dark. Three Legion fighters cracked past us in a frac, three heavy booms, then the far side of the base exploded in a horrific rolling sheet of plasma.

“Ops, this is Boots,” I announced on the secure starlink. “Mission accomplished, request you cover our evacuation of the refugees through the northeast side of Alpha Station. Our opstar is set to” The opstar in the aircar garage went off, a blinding flash and a shattering blast. The garage vaporized, an obscene white-hot phospho nuclear mushroom swirling into the night sky. Flower of the Legion, I thought, rising over our sacred dead.

“Boots, Ops. Read you ten high. Your evac route is secure. Please avoid Alpha Station further. It is an active target.” The wreckage from the opstar began falling all around us. I was still in the field, open ground. I took off for the forest. A huge Omni shuttle came careening overhead, disintegrating, red hot, shedding cenite skin, then it blew apart, turning the night to day, and a Legion fighter shot past, a beautiful, evil dead-black bat, flash, gone up into the dark, mission done. The O shuttle impacted everywhere, blinding, burning chaos. I ran into the forest.

We reformed there, eight recon troopers and me, under the trees, clad in scorched Lizzies. Deadeye was organizing the Taka refugees, and the Legion survivors of the initial attack on Alpha Station were taking care of the Outworlder refugees. The eight troopers and I stood in a circle and grasped hands. I looked up at the flaming night, and I said what had to be said.

“Immortals in blood,

Brothers in arms,

Soldiers of the Legion

“Flying black standards,

Recon Boots,

Delegates to the stars

“All seasoned recruits

For Heaven’s wars

Now recon death’s cold road

“Boots One, Boots FourStones and Shadows

You’re nine effectives short

Remember your brothers-in-arms.

Missing in action,

We join you soon!”

Bluesky was crying. I sure didn’t blame him. I should have been crying toobut I wasn’t human anymore.

“Slayer! Slayer! There are people in the flames!” Deadeye’s voice barely registered on my consciousness. I was frantically rushing along the ragged lines of Taka refugees, examining every female in my quest for Moontouch. Deadeye’s warriors were leading them away into the depths of the forest, to escape the growing catastrophe that was enveloping Alpha Station. I glanced up. It was just like Armageddonthe sky was full of falling stars, Legion fighters continued to shoot past us at treetop height, laying evil eggs that whistled down and erupted, tremendous opstars, deafening us, blinding us with horrific violence, bracketing the station. Red-hot Legion assault craft shot far overhead as well, launching scores of black Legion aircars that spun around Alpha Station like a plague of vultures, strafing the fields with tacstars and then disgorging squads of fully armored Legion troopers who advanced, immediately, under withering covering fire, into the station. The counterattack, I thought. They’re using our raid as a diversion, and now they’re taking Alpha Station. We must have vac superiority. Good!

“Slayer! Look!” Deadeye pointed out into the fields that we had fled, but there was so much going on out there that at first I did not see it. “The Undead ship, Slayerlook! There are people in there!”

People, only black silhouettes from here, outlined by a furious fire, scrambling over the cenite bones of that shredded, burning Omni shuttle, desperate to escape. Even as I looked, some of them fell into the fire.

I ran forward without a word, adrenalized and shaking. Deadeye and some of his Taka followed. Moontouch could be in there! Those O bastards were exporting captives; that ship might have been full of Taka captives. We ran across those burning fields like escapees from an insane asylum, dashing right past fully armored Legion troopers who stared at us briefly through red faceplates but then ignored us. The heat from the burning shuttle set my A-vest and clothing alight as I neared it but I vaulted up into a roaring, hellish holocaust to snatch at one Taka woman whose hair was on fire. I picked her up bodily and tossed her to one of the Taka behind me. Two screaming children reached out for me and I grasped each one by a hand and tossed them bodily back out of the flames where Deadeye and another Taka caught them. I was dimly aware that I was superadrenalized and operating in that superhuman mode that the mind and body sometimes provide you in extraordinary situations, but I didn’t have time to contemplate it. I also knew that I was on fire and would soon die. Two Taka women appeared in a swirling haze of heat. I reached out for them, gasping, and the section they were standing on collapsed beneath them and they fell screaming into a torrent of flames. I screamed too and that must have been when Deadeye and Sworn to Die tackled me and dragged me from the wreckage. I’ve never been able to remember that last part.

Chapter 12

Blood for Blood

I floated in a bed of flame, balanced between two worlds, trapped in some weird kind of white A-suit. It stung. I drifted in and out of consciousness, in and out of my own nightmares. I could still feel the flames; I could see those two Taka women falling straight into Hell, right before my horrified eyesagain and again and again. Either one could have been Moontouch. I cried, I screamed, I slept, I dreamed.

“We are doomed. I chant

Dirges, in the dark, to the holy dead.

The Gods laugh.

You abandon us, again.” Moontouch’s words, searing like a whip. What was I, to bring this on her? Was everything my fault? Or were we all just dust motes, on the breath of the Gods?

“Thinker? Can you hear me? Can you see me?” A young medic in white, gazing at me with some concern. My hands were enclosed in biogloves, I noted. My whole body appeared to be

“Yeah, I see you,” somebody said.

“Can you tell me your Legion serial number?”

“Yeah, it’s ” I faded out, back into the flames. The Legion cross appeared before me, a silvery cross sewn into a fearsome black banner, flapping in an icy wind. I reached out my hand to the flag. People were watching me. Who were they? A great crowd, males and females, solemn and quiet. Outworlders. They appeared misty. As if they were not really there. My ancestors! I knew it in a flash. They were tough people, simple people, mortals, and they had never bowed a knee to tyranny. They had always fought, even when they knew the cause was hopeless, even when they knew they were going to die. No surrender! And they were watching me. They were watching me!

The view changed. I was standing at the Iron Road, by a dark city, under a glorious, starry sky. Thousands of Legion youths were running past me, chanting their squad songs.

“Victory!

Victory!

Victory!

Victory or death!”

Moontouch bent over to kiss me and her gleaming silky hair fell lightly over my face like butterfly wings. She opened her mouth and her soft lips brushed mine. I was paralyzed with loveher faint, musky scent swirled around me.

“Farewell, my love,” she said softly.

“The Gods laugh.

You abandon us, again.

I call out, helpless,

in the hands of the Undead

A ladle of cool water

To seal the peace

Our fate unfolds

As you burn the book of laws

To serve the System’s Cause

As a soldier of the Legion.

We are undone.”

I awoke, tears burning in my eyes, staring at the overhead. I was on an airbed in the bodyshop of a starship, surrounded by casualties. Doctors and medics bustled around. My skin was burning. My entire body appeared to be encased in a biosuit. Even my head was wrapped in the stuff, leaving only my eyes and nostrils and mouth clear.

” To serve the System’s cause ” What did she mean by that? What in Deadman’s name did she mean by that? I was a soldier of the Legion, of ConFree, not the System. The System could burn in Hell!

“Three? Can you hear me?” Another voice, to haunt me. This one sounded faintly familiar. I blinked my eyes open to take a peek. Beta Eight was sitting by my airbed, peering at me curiously. I awoke instantly.

“Dragon!” I choked. “What are you doing here?”

“Where else would I be, Thinker? Anybody who’s anybody is here.” He gave me an easy grin. It was so good to see him again. Dragon was a first-class killer, wavy dark hair, deeply tanned flesh, deep sunken eyes, a resolute chin, and multicolored tattoos crawling up his chest and earlobes. He was one of my oldest comrades. All our ghosts, Beta ghosts, peered at me from his knuckles.

“Damn,” I said. “I’ve been out how long?”

“At least a week,” he said. “With a good dose of biomags. They said you were overcooked. But you’re going to be fine, once all that new skin grows in. How do you feel? What was it anyway? Couldn’t have been plasma, or you wouldn’t be here.”

“No just flame. An O ship crashed.” The ward was fairly quiet, I noticed, but still full of casualties. A nurse strolled down the aisle. “It stings. Eightdo Priestess and Millie know I’ve been wounded?”

“Nope. Casualty figures are not being releasednot even individual notifications. Want me to arrange it?”

“No. No, please. How about Moontouch? Or Stormdawn? Is there any news?”

“I’m afraid not. I found Deadeye. He’s not happy with the situation. He’s keeping busy slaughtering O’s.”

“Deadman.” I sighed. “What’s the sit with the war? Where am I anyway? Did the Legion take Alpha Base?”

“You better believe we took it. I was with Recon. We kicked in the doors right after you busted into that aircar garage. Good work, by the way. Your diversion worked just like we planned. We killed a whole lot of O’s.”

“I didn’t ” I coughed. ” didn’t realize it was a diversion.”

“Well, we didn’t think it best to tell you. Need to know, commo security and so forth. But it worked!”

“So we took the vac?”

Dragon gave me a fierce grin. “The battle of Andrion Deep, they’re calling it already. Fleetcom diverted most of its forces to the Andrion sector, doing a gigantic deception op around the Crista Cluster and Dindabai both. It was a risky strategy, they tell me. The Omnis had at least half their fleet moving against Andrion. Fleetcom met them in the deep, when most of them hadn’t even arrived. Fleetcom struck in hyperspace. They broke into the O’s wormholes and destroyed them.”

“Deadman! How the hell did they do that?”

“Beats me. I’ve got no idea. But Fleetcom did it. They’re the heroes. Next time you see a vachead, take off your hat. It’s evidently a very dangerous procedure, very risky, and it’s brand new. We lost a lot of shipsa whole lot. Nobody’s saying how many. But we shattered the O’s fleet. We smashed them to bits.”

“Deadman! That’s wonderful.”

“First they did the deep, then they targeted the O ships that had established vac superiority around Andrion. The O’s knew they were in trouble. If they launched, Fleetcom would follow them and destroy their wormholes. And if they didn’t launch, they’d be targeted and destroyed by our fighters or cruisers. They all ran. We didn’t get ‘em all, but we got a whole lot.”

“Wonderful.”

“Andrion’s retaken now. We just finished off the last of the O’s in Farside Base. We’ll be moving some of our casualties downside soonas soon as we can fix up the bodyshops in Alpha and Farside. Right now we’re in orbit around Andrion 2, and nobody’s bothering us.”

“What about Dindabai?”

“The O’s are withdrawing. Pulling out their troops and disappearing into the deep. We’ve won, Threeat least we won this round. They’re not finished, that’s for sure. But we’ve got Andrion back. And Dindabai.”

“That’s good,” I said quietly. “Good.” I felt tremendously weary. I knew I was going to sleep again, and the dreams were going to get me. My wife and my son were gone. I had to find them! Why had I ever left Andrion? Fool! Andrion is your home, you damned fool! Haven’t you learned that yet? And now you’ve lost everything!

“Wake up, Sleepyhead. You’ve got a visitor. How are you feeling?” That cute little Assidic nurse flashed me a bright smile. She was underage. Almost everybody of fighting age was either already in service or on the way. The war with the O’s was going to take everything we had, and the home front was going to be staffed by kids. I was downside now, in the body shop of Alpha Station. The place had been pretty badly shot up, but it was still better than the starships. They were overflowing with casualties and woefully understaffed. Now, however, the Legion had raided hospitals all over the Crista Cluster for help, and dropped medics and physicians and nurses into both Andrion and Dindabai. This ward was crowded too, but a lot roomier than on the starship.

“Better. It still stings, but not so bad.” I gingerly touched my face with a biogloved hand. They had unwrapped my face a few days ago. My face had been fairly well protected by the comtop, but it had still gotten burnt pretty bad. My torso had been partially protected by the A-vest, but my arms and legs had been fried. I stole a glance at the mirror on the console. My face was a bright pinkmoist new skin. I looked like some kind of clown.

“Are you up to a visitor?”

“Only if she’s as pretty as you.”

She laughed. “It’s a hebut he’s a hunk. It’s that dead-righteous brute who’s been visiting you regularlyDragon. And if you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”

“I’ll see him. Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble. He’ll just love you and leave you.”

“The first part of that sounds good. I’ll show him in.”

“Thinker! They’ve given you a new face. Pink! I like it. You’re looking good.” Dragon burst in without invitation, clad in camfax fatigues.

“Board, Eight. Yeah, they’re unwrapping me a piece at a time. I’m not sure about the color schemebut I guess it’ll change.”

“Aw right.” He glanced at his chron. “I’ve got something I want you to see, Thinker. Nurse, does this airbed autofloat? Is it equipped with a glide unit?” He took a look at the underside of the airbed.

“Yes sir, it does. Do you want to use it?”

“Yeah, I want to take him outuh, into the sunshine.”

“Yes sir, here. I’ll help you.” She reached under the bed, made a few adjustments, and the bed slid soundlessly off the frame and hovered a few marks off the floor.

“I’ll be happy to accompany you,” the nurse said, holding the guiderail and looking up hopefully at Dragon.

“Thanks, but we’re fine. I’ll have him back in a bit.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Don’t bother. Come on, Thinker.” He took the guiderail and I floated out of the ward with him, leaving the poor little kid behind us.

“Are we bustin’ out of here?” I asked Dragon. We had meandered through the Gardens, which had been transformed into an extension of the Body Shop. It was full of wounded boots and vacheads propped up on glidebeds and sitting in airchairs and walking gingerly around, leaning on crutches and canes. It was a gloriously beautiful, sunlit day. It was almost impossible to believe that this had been a horrific battlefield just a short time ago, littered with corpses.

“NahI wanted you to see something. Over by the starport.”

“I think that little nurse kind of likes you, Dragon.”

“Oh yeah? Hmm. She’s kind of young.”

“What’s been happening in the galaxy, Eight? I’ve been losing track.”

“Wellthe O’s are pulling back, into the deep. But we’re not going to let them go, this time. We’re going to pursue them, take on their outer defenses, and then strike at their homelandswherever those might be.” We were proceeding along a stone footpath lined with smouldering bushes. Andrion Starport loomed ahead. Even as we watched, a shuttle lifted, gliding up gently and then powering on, rumbling up at a steep angle, headed for the vac. The sound and vibrations rolled over us. It always gave me a thrillthe power of the Legion.

“But they’re from another universe. Surely we’ll not be going there.”

“No. They’ve got bases here in our universe, right in our galaxy. But we’ve never discovered where they are. That’s our priority now. Where did they go? Where are they retreating to? Guess who’s going to find out? This will be my last visit to you, Thinker. Recon is going to be very, very busy, for the indefinite future.”

“Who’s in your squad?”

“Sweats is my Two. You remember him. And Tourist is still with us; he’s the Manlink. Redhawk is my driver; we’re happy about that. Psycho got his own squad. So did Trigger. Psycho married that Systie girl Sassy. It hasn’t slowed him down, though, from what I hear. Redhawk is hitched to Tara’s assistant, Whit. Oh, Doctor Doom is our medic! You know him too. The others you don’t know.”

“What did you want to show me?” I asked. Dragon had slowed down and stopped, standing by my side with one hand on the guiderail.

“Here they come,” he said. “Reinforcements.” He looked ahead to the starport. A mass of A-suited soldiers were marching our way, evidently having just disembarked from a shuttle, headed for Alpha Station. The A-suits didn’t look quite right. As they came closer I identified the armor.

“Systies!” I exclaimed “That’s DefCorps armor.” There was no mistaking that ruddy bronze-colored patina.

“DefCorps armor,” Dragon confirmed. “Take a good lookthey’re coming this way.”

They marched toward us like a great metal snake, glittering almost like gold in the sunlight, boots slamming into the dirt, raising dust. A brutal, irresistible tide of armored troopers, hundreds of themand more behind them. They carried SG’s and their helmets were removed, clipped to their waists. They marched with perfect, awesome precision, like some nightmare segmented millipede or a tide of giant metallic ants, relentless, mindless, focused only on their destination, sweeping aside all obstacles.

Everyone had stopped to watch them, as they approached Alpha Station. They marched under strange flags, gold and green banners emblazoned with glowing runes that meant nothing to me.

“Are these guys on our side?” I asked, a trifle uneasily.

“You’d better believe it.” Dragon said with a tight grin.

Closer. Now I could see the facesgirls! They were girls! All of them. What the hell? Lovely, hauntingly beautiful, perfectly expressionless faces. Grim, intent, focused. The boots slammed down, all in unison, a great, grinding metallic heartbeat shaking the earth. Passing right by us now, not even looking at us, swirling past with the dust. Biogens! Biogen girls, perfect killing machines, hundreds of them. Darling killers, armored angels. They were tough. They never quit. I had fought them, on Pherdos. I had killed plenty, and hated it.

“That’s the flag of the Biogen Liberation Front,” said Dragon, “and that one there is the flag of the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Zequord 3 in the Hyades Cluster. Some time ago ConFree sent an appeal to all human governments, worlds and peoples, asking for military help to counter the O’s.”

“Yeah, I heard it.”

“You know who responded? The Biogen Liberation Front respondednobody else. Not a single human government answered us. But the biogens did. And they’re not even human. Nobody told them what to do. They have their own government now. They decided it themselves. They confiscated three Systie starships, loaded them up with biogen troopers, and here they are. They know it’s going to be a long hard road, fighting the O’s. They said they’re at our service. Andrion and Dindabai are going to be the advance bases for our counterattack against the O’s.”

“I’ll be damned.” The biogen troopers continued marching past. There must have been thousands of them. Marching to their deaths, probably.

“Reinforcements. We really need them, Thinker.”

“No human worlds responded?”

“Not a one!”

“I’ll be damned.” It gave me a cold thrill, watching those lovely, fearless troopers boldly marching past in the dust.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Dragon said. “Anyone who says anything against biogens in my presence is going to get a quick fist in the face.”

“Yeah. I agree.” I knew the biogens had just sealed an eternal alliance with ConFree and the Legion, whether they knew it or not. We didn’t give a damn for laws, or words, or treaties. That was all crap. What counted was action. And if you stood by our side in the face of death we’d stand by your side too. Forever! It didn’t matter who you wereOutworlder, Assidic, Cyrillian, even Mocains. You didn’t even have to be human. Stand the night watch with us, and we’ll never forget you. Bleed for ConFree, and ConFree will bleed for you. That’s what we believed. Blood for bloodthat was our creed.

Chapter 13

Flags of our Ancestors

“How are the arms now?” CzeLu asked me. CzeLu was that sweet little Assidic nurse that had been assigned to my case. She always brought a little sunshine into the ward with her. I needed it. I was still in the airbed and getting sick of the place.

“Better, I guess. Still stings like hell.” I examined my arms, which they had unwrapped two days ago. Bright, moist pink skin, glistening with biochem and biomim. The lifies could do virtually anything by stimulating the body’s natural growth processes. The accelerated growth process was miraculous, but uncomfortable. I knew I shouldn’t complain. My hands were still in biogloves, and my legs were also still encased in biogro sheaths. I was supposed to be taking it easy with the legsthe nerves were still re-growing.

“Guess what? I’ve got a date with your friend Dragon,” CzeLu said.

“What? But he’s not even here. He’s off doing a recon.”

“Yes. But he said when he gets back he’ll take me out somewhere.”

If he survives, I thought.

“Can I ask you for some advice, sir?”

“Of course.”

“I guess I’m getting kind of scared. Dragonwhat’s he like?”

“He’s probably my closest friend. He’sa warrior. I don’t know how else to describe him.”

“Is he a good person?”

“Yes. He is.”

“Does he have a girl friend?”

“Well not right now. As far as I know.”

“Do you think I should go out with him?”

“Do it. But be careful.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you beforemen are pigs. We all are. Even nice guys like Dragon. Assuming he survives this recon mission, he’ll be in a mood to celebrate. Just remember, you’re the one who decides what happens. I’d advise you not to get carried away.”

She was blushing. Blushing! “I wouldn’t do anything that I shouldn’t,” she said, avoiding my eyes. She evidently wasn’t as bold as she had pretended to be when she first mentioned Dragon.

Advice for the lovelorn. What in Deadman’s name was I doing here? Dragon would probably kill me if he learned what advice I had given this girl.

I had hot, stifling dreams about Priestess and Millie and the children. I would wake in the night, burning, and gasp for air, bathed in sweat. I never quite got a grasp on the dreams, but I knew it was not good. I felt guilty about Priestess and Millie, but I felt more guilty about Moontouch. What a fool I wasand I was giving advice about romance? It was hopeless. We were right in the heart of a war, on Andrion 2, and it was just starting. There would be no personal interstellar commo of any sort, until the situation stabilized. And it didn’t look like it was going to stabilize any time soon. Priestess and Millie had no idea whether I was alive or dead, and I had no way of telling them, not unless I wanted to play criminal games with highly classified Legion starlinks and Q-links, and I didn’t. The penalties were too severe. It was best if they didn’t know, I told myself. They’d just worry.

“Victory, Slayer! Your warriors return!” I had been dozing in the garden, dappled in sunlight, floating away in the warmth, propped up in an airlounge, totally relaxed. I popped my eyes open. Deadeye stood before me, in Lizzie and skins, seemingly exhausted, E dangling from one shoulder, psybloc unit at his throat. His narrow face was still daubed with deathpaint and his long hair was uncuthe had vowed it would not be cut until the invaders were driven from his world. Another Taka was beside himyoung, slim, spattered with dirt, another longhair, E and

“Stormdawn!” I was stunned. It was Stormdawn, my son, standing almost at attention beside Deadeye, also in skins and Lizzie, hauling an E, psybloc at his shoulder. He looked completely serious, even with the deathpaint.

I reached out my arms. He hesitated a moment, then dropped to his knees and let me embrace him. He seemed embarrassed. I held him tightly for a long, long time, as my eyes filled with tears. Alive! He’s alive! My own son, my first son, tall and rangy, still growing but as tall as I was, muscles like stone, dirty and sweaty, his heart beating against mine. I could hardly believe it. Was I dreaming this? Could this be real?

“Your son is a mighty warrior, Slayer. He was leading our forces against the Undead in Farside Base. He killed many Undeadtheir green blood soaks the fields of Agentos, and their bones are being picked clean by the deathbirds.”

“I am pleased,” I whispered in Taka. It was a Taka greeting, father to son.

“I honor my Father,” Stormdawn said as I loosened my grip and he got to his feet. He did not look happy. His face was twisted with grief and tragedy.

“When Stormdawn learned his mother was missing,” Deadeye said, “he marched from Farside Base through half the world, through the Deadlands and over the Mountains of the Exiles to the Garden of God and Stonehall and then Southmark, and then the mountains again, and the killing fields outside Alpha Station. And everywhere he went he talked with Taka survivors, asking about Moontouch, the Guardian of the Past, asking who had seen her, and what had happened. I too was doing this, after the battle of Alpha Station. I met your son by chance, in a refugee camp in the forests. I bowed my knee, and confessed my failure, and offered my throat to his knife. He did not kill me, but said he was the one who would have to die. We talked and I told him all I had learned, and he told me all he had learned. We now know the awful fate of your wife, my Queen, Stormdawn’s mother, who is the beating heart of the Taka race. We know!” And, I swear, Deadeye was on the verge of tears. I had never seen that before. An icy fear knotted my stomach.

“What is this foolish talk of throats and knives and failure and death?” I exclaimed. I think I was too scared to ask what had happened to Moontouch. “You are both mighty warriors! You have defeated a fearsome foe, and liberated your race from slavery. You will both be honored, by the Taka nation.”

“No, Slayer. I failed to defend my Queen, and so did her son. We will both die, by our own hands. But our fate is of no importance. First we must tell you what we learned.” He was almost in agony. I knew it was very bad news. He pulled a leather scroll from a belt pouch and unrolled it. It was covered with tiny runes. He handed it to me, almost ceremoniously. “We spoke with hundreds. Many had seen our Queen, at different places. We know where she went. This is her story.” He paused, looking into the distance. He didn’t need to consult the scroll. He knew it by heart.

“I led the Queen’s Guard at Stonehall,” Deadeye said, “And your son Stormdawn was with me. When the Undead ships attacked our world, we led the Queen into the Underway. The first attack was at Alpha Station. The Undead seized the station quickly with much fighting. The Legion soldiers were driven from the station but the survivors would not surrender and they appealed for our help. We helped them. We sent many of our warriors from Stonehall to the battle at Alpha Station. Stormdawn went with them, as a prince should, to defend his people from the alien intrudersand later he led our forces in the attack against Farside Base, on the other side of the world. Before he left, I promised him that I would defend our Queen, or die.” Deadeye paused again. His face was quivering, and he looked again to be on the verge of tears.

“The Undead then attacked Stonehall, and broke into the Queen’s Underway. I led her to safety into the forests, past Mount Light and then to the Swamp of Lost Souls and finally to Southmark and safety in the Tomb of the Kings. I felt a great relief when we arrived, as I knew our Queen would be safe there. But Moontouch was not happy. She said she was not a coward, to run and hide from her nation’s enemies when her people were fighting and dying. The runners never stopped, bringing us fresh news every day. Our Queen urged me to lead the counterattack against the Undead at Stonehall. How could I refuse? I knew she was safe at Southmark. But I had promised Stormdawn!

“When I hesitated she laughed at me and called me a woman. She was right, I thought. How could I not fight these evil foes, who dared to tread on the sacred soil of the Sunmarch? We unfurled the ancient battle flags of our ancestors from the Tomb of the Kings and Moontouch kissed them and we pledged her victory or death. I left a strong guard with her, all pledged to die. I gathered our forces along the way and returned to Stonehall to lead the fight. We met some Legion soldiers who gave us E’s and psybloc. And then we showed the Undead they made a big mistake in attacking us.”

Two Legion fighters shot overhead, rattling the stationdead black darts, trailing misty contrails through the clear blue sky. Deadeye ignored them.

“You know about Mount Light,” he said softly. “It focuses all the power of our world. The O’s landed some of their ships at Mount Light. I had not been expecting it. My Queen Moontouch learned about it before we did in the forests around Stonehall. Mount Light is a sacred site. It had to be defended, and the Queen’s Guard was closest. The Queen led her warriors to Mount Light, and set the forests afire, and scaled the cliffs along the ancient’s secret road, and attacked the Undead right on the top of the mountain. The Queen’s guard had E’s but no psybloc. It was there, on the sacred summit of Mount Light, that our Queen was captured by the Undead. All of our warriors were killed or captured. You know resistance is impossible without the psybloc. The Queen knew that too. So did her guard. But Mount Light had to be defended. We owe our ancestors nothing less. Your wife was a courageous leader. She feared nothing.”

“What else did you learn about her fate?” I asked.

“She was next seen in Alpha Station, by a long list of Takatheir names are on the scroll, and the dates when she was there. She was placed with a group of captives, Taka and Legion, mostly women and children, who were held in a large room with a roof like a golden bowl.”

“The auditorium!”

“Yes. She tried to calm her people, assuring them that the Gods of the Dead would avenge them, and strike the Undead down. She prayed to all our Gods, and promised liberation. She said she could see the Undead fleeing our world in panic, their unholy ships falling from the sky. She blessed the women and the children, touching them with her hands, promising immortality and happiness in the next world, and they cried with joy.

“Then everyone was moved out of the Golden Bowl. I have noted the date. Our Queen was next seen at the starport, the following day, in the hall of the moving roads.”

“The loading dock.”

“Yes. Again she was surrounded by her people, and we have the names of those who survived, and what they said. On that day a small Undead ship landed, and a door opened in its underside and a ramp came down. One of the Undead approached the Taka captives and gestured towards the ship. Our people shrunk back in horror, but our Queen stepped forward bravely and led her people into the ship. There was not room for all the Taka, so some survived. The ship departed and we know not where it went. This was the day before the Legion attacked Alpha Station.”

“The ship?” I asked.

“The bottom of the scroll,” Deadeye said. I took a look. It was a perfect colored sketch of an Omni shuttle.

“Sweety?” I asked my tacmod. It was clipped to my hospital gown.

“This is an accurate rendition of an Omni Class VAG troop shuttle,” Sweety responded. “This ship is used for rapid delivery of troops and equipment between upside and downside Omni units.”

“So you see, Slayer, she is gone,” Deadeye concluded.

“You have provided me with valuable, accurate information on my wife,” I said, rolling up the scroll. “I thank you. I thank you both.”

“She is gone from our world,” Deadeye repeated. “I have failed in my sacred duty. Although the flags of our ancestors wave over Stonehall once again, I have failed to defend my Queen. I must now face my ancestors, and confess my faults.”

“I too have failed,” Stormdawn declared. “When my mother met her fate, I was far away, helping our Legion brothers at Farside Base. Now she is gone. I must also face my ancestors. It is not a sad occasion, but a joyous oneto see Those Who Have Gone Before! My mother told me often to look forward to this day! We invite you to watch the ceremony, Father.”

“I am surprised that brave warriors such as you two are abandoning your sacred pledges to defend your Queen,” I said softly. “Perhaps you prefer the easier road. I too have failed to fulfill my quest, but I will never cease my efforts. Why do you think I came home? I came home to see my wife and my son and my blood brother. My wife is still missing. Do you think I am going to stop looking? I am not that weak.”

“She is gone, Slayer,” Deadeye said.

“She is alive!”

“But she was taken by the Undead, into the stars. She is surely ” Stormdawn objected.

“Don’t you dare say it!” I snarled. “She is alive! And I am going to find her! I will use the information you gave me to track her down. And I will find her. Alive! I will need brave warriors for that task, but I see you two cannot help me. I will tell Moontouch of your deaths when I find her. Get out of my sight.”

They were both stunned. Stormdawn blinked back the tears, and Deadeye was as pale as death. Then they both fell to their knees and begged my forgiveness and promised to follow me until the stars froze, all the way to the heart of the Undead’s evil realm and out the other side and on, forever, until we liberated Moontouch from her captors.

I knew they meant it. I knew I’d need them. Now all I had to do was decide what to do. And I didn’t even know where to begin.

Chapter 14

The Holy Dead

The view from atop the Alpha Station Body Shop complex was pretty spectacular. The hospital rose up eight stories to a roof topped by an aircar landing pad for emergencies. The rest of the roof was set up with plex tables and airchairs, and the walking wounded often came up to escape the wards and take in the view. I did it a lot, once the sheaths came off my legs and I was hobbling around with a cane. I liked to watch the sun set and the stars come out. At dusk it was still and hushed. This particular evening there were only a few other wounded in the lengthening shadows, and the air was clear and cool. I wondered if it was going to rain. Off to the northwest horizon I could see a vague purple glowit was the Blue Mountains that led all the way to Stormport and the Cold Coast. To the northeast a dirty brown haze was barely visible. The Deadlands, leading into a fearsome desert. And all around the Station a vast forest of colorful flowertrees spread, giving way here and there to more open fields, scattered with dato trees. Air angels floated gracefully past, riding the breeze. I turned my head to the south, and the Mountains of the Exiles rose up from the horizon, a mighty bulwark stretching almost as far as I could see. Beyond that, I knew, were the Garden of God and Stonehall and Mount Light and Southmark and the Swamp of Lost Souls. An alien world, I thought. It was my home.

My arms were free now, and my hands, and my legs. New flesh, that had to be gently exercised, before the lifies signed off on my release. I was impatient, but willing. I knew I’d need to be in good shape, for what was coming. My legs still hurt like hell.

I tried to keep up with the news. With the Andrion engagement over, some bloodless bureaucrat back in the Crista Cluster had ordered that all Legion equipment be recovered from the Taka who had helped us. They had lists of E’s and Lizzies and psybloc units that had been handed out, and now they wanted it all back, so the accounting would be complete. After all, there were some pretty serious regs against handing out good E’s and hi-tech psybloc to indigenous auxiliaries.

Standing against the railing and watching the sun drop into a glowing pool of crimson-gold blood, I thought about that. The Taka casualties had been horrific. An apocalypse, a holocaust, for the Taka race. They had died like soldiers, all of them, facing the enemy, unafraid. Dying for their people. And for us. And now we were going to take back the weapons we had desperately pressed into their hands, in our hour of greatest need? I laughed.

I wasn’t the only one who felt strongly about what the Taka had done. The original draft of our response to the directive was a two-word message that didn’t leave our feelings in any doubt. Since it was also obscene, it was initially changed at higher levels to a one-word response that read, simply, NO. Cooler heads prevailed, however, and the message that ultimately went out gave good strategic reasons for allowing the Taka to retain all the equipment we had given them.

You had to fight the enemy relentlesslyand sometimes the real enemy was back in your own Hqs.

“I told you to be careful.” A clear, feminine voice. “You don’t ever listen, do you?” I turned. A tall, lanky girl stood before me in black fatigues, dark hair carelessly rumpled, a tired pale face and liquid eyes shining with emotion. She dropped a traveling bag to the deck and reached out to me.

“Millie!” I could hardly believe it. Millie in my arms, gasping, throwing her arms around me, her sweat like an exotic perfume, almost knocking me off my feet. I held on and didn’t let go for a long, long time. She was trembling. Her cheeks were moist.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Wounded. Recovering,” I said. “I’m fine.”

“I just got off the shuttle. They told me you’d been badly burnt. I almost fainted.” She looked into my eyes. My own angelthe girl from the past, the girl who saved the galaxyMillie the Mole. We kissed, and the world spun around until I had to pull away, dizzy and weak.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Are you kidding? They scooped up every nurse, medic, physician, trainee nurse everybody. They wanted Priestess too, but you don’t have to go if you have young kids and we didn’t want Andrea and Lester put into some kiddies’ concentration camp. So we decided only one of us would come. We played Strato for you. I won.”

“How did you do that? Priestess is pretty good at Strato.”

“I cheated. Now, what about your wounds? Were you really burned?”

“Yes. It was bad. The biogro sheaths are off now. I’m recovering. You didn’t know about it?”

“No. We had no idea what had happened to you. Deadman, what a trip! I’m exhausted! The closer we got to Andrion, the more they revealed about how bad it was. So many casualties! I was terrified by the time we arrived. I haven’t slept in days. I thought you were surely dead! I prayed to Deadman!” She closed her eyes and squeezed me again. It sure felt good.

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” she sobbed.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Where were you burnt?”

“Face, head, neck, arms, hands, legs, feet.”

“Deadman. Well, as long as the important parts are all right I guess I won’t complain.” She gave me a weak grin.

“Have you been assigned to Alpha Station?”

“As far as I knowI haven’t checked in yet.”

“How are the kids?”

“They want their daddy back.”

“And Priestess?”

“She’s fine. Very busy at the bodyshop. The really bad cases are evaced all the way to the Cluster and we get some of them at Providence. She wants to come here more than anything.”

“I wanted to write, but no starlinks. It’ll be that way for the duration.” Until we cleanse the galaxy of this latest plague, I thought. Until we kill every last O in the galaxy. Not until then.

Moontouch came to me in a rushing wave of memories, a warm silky saltwater wave that struck me gently as I slept and then trickled out to sea, over gritty white sands, leaving my skin tingling in sunlight. “I call out, helpless, in the hands of the Undead,” she hissed. “A ladle of cool water, To seal the peace. Our fate unfolds “

I awoke suddenly, adrenalized and shaking. Again! She’s calling me. She’s calling me!

“Westo? What?” I had awakened Millie, beside me. We had gone to sleep heart to heart, limbs entangled, in her little bunk in her little cube in Nurse’s Quarters D. My heart had almost burst with joy, but I knew it was all an illusion. I was wasting time, indulging myself when I should have been working. It’s truethe bastards had cut the cross of the Legion right into my heart, but I didn’t mind. I really didn’t mind. This time it was for me, and Moontouchnot for them.

A ladle of cool water, To seal the peace. What the hell is the matter with me? I know what that means! Am I getting stupid in my old age? I know what that means! She had written that long before the O’s invaded, long before she was a captive of the O’s, but that didn’t mean a damned thing. How could she know? She couldn’t. But how could she know about the O’s, before we did? And how could she know about the ladle? She probably hadn’t even known what it meant, when she wrote it. Can it be true? Can it? Am I just hallucinating?

“What is it, Westo?”

“I think I know where Moontouch is.”

“You do? Where? How?”

“She told me.” Before she was even taken! It was crazyI was crazy! But I couldn’t ignore it!

I forced my burning legs to the floor. “Millie. You’ve got to help me.”

“Yes. What? What can I do?”

“I have to send a message to Tara. It has to go right to her desk and it has to go direct. I can’t even get past the doors at Galactic Information here without a release slip from the Body Shop and even if I got in, I’d never be able to send the message direct to Tara.”

“Do you need a release slip?”

“No. Not that. I can send a message to Tara directly. But I’ll need your help.”

“It was no trouble,” Millie said. “Nobody cares if you want to see your stuff.” We were six levels below the Body Shop, in a semi-darkened corridor, facing a door marked PROPERTY. “Here we are.” She inserted a plastic card into the lock and the door clicked open. We stepped in, and the lights slowly came on. It was a great warehouse, lined with rows of open storage containers. It was dusty and quiet.

“We want Row 41,” Millie said. We set off down the aisles. She was in nurses white. I was in black fatigues, struggling with my cane. The legs were slowly improving but they still hurt.

“All rightRow 41. Look for your serial number. I don’t think anything will be touched. There wasn’t any time.”

“There it is!” I said. “34673002, that’s me.” My A-vest and comtop and psybloc and E and boots and all the other equipment had been tossed into the storage bin carelessly, just as it was when they ripped it off me in the emergency room. The A-vest was burnt blackparts of the comtop were melted. My E was indestructible. The damned things would outlast their creators. I pulled the comtop out of the pile. The visor had already been torn off.

“Is it there?” Millie asked. “It should be. They were concerned with you, not your equipment.”

My fingers found the device, nestled into the lining of the comtop. I forced the lining aside, found the catches and snapped it out.

“That’s it,” I said. It was a little metallic device that fit neatly into the palm of my hand. “It’s a Q-link. I can activate it with Sweety and that’s my commoCosmic Secret and direct to Tara.”

“Is she going to believe whatever Moontouch told you?”

“I’m not going to tell her that. I’m just going to tell herwhere to look.”

“Any reply from Tara yet?” Millie asked me. We were in the Body Shop cafeteria, having breakfast at a little plex table. It was fairly crowded, but the noise level was low. I was really enjoying myself, savoring the spicy scent of the smokies, sipping at the dox and almost floating away, it was that good. I knew life was short, too damned short, and figured I might as well enjoy what I could while I could.

“Not yet,” I replied, glancing at the Q-link on the table beside us. Millie was in her nurses whites. She looked like an angel to me. I thanked God every time I laid my eyes on her. Somebody was watching over me, that was for sure.

“What exactly did you tell her?”

“I sent her a text message, which is all you can send with this thing. But it’s a quantum link so it’s instantaneous. Herethis is what I sent.” I handed a crumpled printout over to Millie.

“Tara,” Millie read it aloud. “Urgent Fleetcom recon sector Gildron’s world. Strongly suspect Omni presence. Pls advise results soon as poss. If results positive pls also provide official desig & starcords. Wester.”

“What does it mean?” Millie asked, handing the message back to me.

“You never knew Gildron,” I said. “He was from another world. Not quite human. He was a powerful telepath. He was Tara’s bodyguard, for quite awhile, and later they married. He had been abducted from his home world in a slaver raid, and Tara bought him from the slavers. He was from an unknown race. Nobody had ever seen anything like him, and even Gildron didn’t know the location of his home world. Nobody knew except the slavers who had originally grabbed him, and they were long gone.” I took another sip of dox. GildronI missed him. I really missed him.

“Gildron accompanied us on a rather hazardous mission that involved contact with the O’s,” I continued. “Well, to make a very long story very short, he communicated with the O’stelepathicallyand they told him where his home world was. He was planning on returning there when he when he sacrificed himself. For us.” The cafeteria faded away. Gildron. What a heroic figure. I thought him an ape when I first met him. But I was the apenot him. He was more like a God.

“Before he left us, he told Tara where his world was. I remember that much. But I don’t remember where it was, or even the name. It would be way out there in the Nulls, probably. Some place we’ve never been. Some place that is not even mapped.”

“But why do you think the O’s are there? You think Moontouch is there, right?”

“When Gildron was telling us about his contact with the O’s, he said the O’s knew his world and his people. That’s why they greeted him as a friend. He told us how the O’s described their first landing on his world. They were prepared to blast it to ashes, as they had met only hostility from the native creatures of our galaxy. But when they landed, heavily armored and glowing with mag shields and prepped to fire their Vulcans, one of the natives approached themwith a ladle of cool water. He offered it to them. They drank it, and from that day to this there was peace between the O’s and Gildron’s people.”

Millie was waitingstill puzzled. “Don’t you see?” I asked. “It’s what Moontouch said in her warning to mebefore the war with the O’s, long before she was ever taken prisoner. ‘Dirges, in the dark, to the holy dead. The Gods laugh. You abandon us, again. I call out, helpless, in the hands of the Undead. A ladle of cool water, to seal the peace. Our fate unfolds ‘ That’s what she said. A ladle of cool water, to seal the peace. What else could it be? They’ve been there before! They know the place! I know from Deadeye’s info and from Fleetcom records that shuttle could only have been bound for one of three Omni starships in orbit around Andrion 2 at that time. One was destroyed within the hour. The other two escapedand we don’t know where they went. But I have the Legion ID number for both those O ships. If we find either ship calling at Gildron’s world, that’s where we’ll find Moontouch. I’m certain of it! And it’s so far out in the Nulls, nobody is going to look there without a damned good reason.”

“You haven’t given her any reason.”

“She trusts me. She’ll do it. Fleetcom will target that sector and investigate. If there was any recent starship activity anywhere nearby, they’ll discover it.”

“How could Moontouch know this?”

“She reads the future like I read a d-screen. She’s done it before. It’s bloody miraculous. I don’t know how she does it, but I know she does it.”

“How do the legs feel now?” Millie asked me. I was glistening in biogel, soaking up the sun by the bodyshop swimming pool, lying almost flat on my back on an airlounge with dark sunglasses protecting my eyes. It was a bright, glorious day, and the pool was surrounded by wounded soldiers lying in the sunlight and pondering their survival.

“Well, they don’t sting any more. Now they itch.”

“That’s progress, right?” Millie was in white, taking a brief break from her duties, leaning on the little table, her gaze wandering over my body.

“Yeah. I’m almost outta here. One more deep soak with the biomim, and they say I’ll be released. I can tell you I’m sick of this place.”

“Don’t forget I’m ” the Q-link lit up and buzzed. I stared at it stupidly. It had been over a week since I had contacted Tara. Millie seized it, and I grabbed my tacmod.

“Sweety,” I said. “Activate the Q-link!” I grabbed the device from Millie. The message slowly scrolled along the tiny d-screen: BINGO! FLEETCOM DESIGNATION U53955. SEE YOU SOON. TARA.

“Bingo! It means the O are at Gildron’s world. Deadman!” I exclaimed.

“She hasn’t given you a starcord.”

“Yes, she has. Fleetcom has given the place an official designation, it’s probably brand new. It will be on the starcharts now; with the designation we can find the starcords instantly.”

“How come she hasn’t told you anything? Is that all she has to say? What does she mean, see you soon?”

“I think she means she’ll see me soon. I’m not usually anxious to see her, but this time I am. I’ve got to find out what Fleetcom discovered. She might be there. If the O’s are there, Moontouch might be there.” Adrenaline, flooding my system.

A sharp electronic yelp peeped urgently. Millie leaped up. “Emergency room alert,” she gasped. “Got to go!” She ran off in a hurry.

Bingo, I thought. That sounded ominous. There was a massive galactic-wide search on for the bulk of the Omni fleet. We knew they needed worlds to live on, just like we did. They had seized plenty of Systie worlds in the past, but didn’t seem to be concentrating their forces around any one system. It was almost as if the planets they had seized were of little use to them once they exploited the native populations. Mongera, for example, was the closest world to the Outvac that was still occupied by the O. I knew it was probably going to be the first place we attacked, in the wake of the Omni retreat from Andrion and Dindabai. Mongera was in the GassiesI had fought the O’s there, and the Systies, as a green trooper. My closest comrades perished there, people I would never forget, Coolhand and Ironman and Warhound and Boudicca and Sassin. So much blood, so much sacrifice. And yet it now appeared that the O were pulling out of Mongera as well. Strange. Well, what the hell did I know? I just carried an E. Let Tara figure it out. All I wanted to know was where Moontouch was. And, once I knew that, nobody had better stand in my way. The holy deadright! There were going to be a lot more of them by the time I was through!

Chapter 15

Advice from the Enemy

“Commander Thinker? Do we have a Commander Thinker here?” A harried-looking young female Legion troopie was looking over the disorderly gang of officers who had crowded into the little ante-room, competing for her attention. All of Andrion Station was being overrun. It seemed like half of the ConFree Legion had dropped onto Andrion 2, prepping for the offensive, and if you wanted to see anybody important you had to wait in line.

“That’s me,” I responded, pushing my way to the front. I was clad in formal blacks.

“Front and centerCommander Thinker? All right, go on in.” She triggered the door open and I stepped in to the inner sanctum. Tara stood behind a large conference desk, raising her slim arms over a huge pile of plastic files, as if in supreme frustration, then abruptly freezing as I approached. The door slid shut behind me. It was a large office, atop Alpha Station, affording a panoramic view of the base.

“Wester! You look terrific.” She was in her blacks, and she looked terrific too. “I heard you were badly burned. You don’t look it.” She lowered her arms.

“I was pretty badly fried but they fixed me up. Hello, Tara.” She came out from behind the desk and took my hand, leading me over to a lounge by the armored plex window. From the view, it was clear how badly the base had been damaged. Much of the exterior was burnt black and blown to shreds. Alpha Station was now surrounded by thousands of camfaxed portable storage units, aircar bays, interlocking warehouse mods, field command centers, armories, field galleys, portabarracks and endless rows of squadmods. Legion soldiers scurried between the structures like ants as aircars shot past overhead. The new city had arisen almost overnight and spread all the way into the surrounding forests. I guess it was pretty impressive. The Legion could move damned quickly when necessary. Tara was examining me closely.

“Are you all right, Wester?” she asked as we settled into the lounge.

“I’m fully recovered, Tara. Why are you staring at me like that?”

“It’s just I’m so glad to see you.” Now she had both hands clutching one of mine.

“Really?” It sure wasn’t like her.

“Really. I know, you think I’m a biogen. I’m human, Wester. I get more human the older I get.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Ever kiss a general?”

“What?” This wasn’t the Tara I knew. Was she having a nervous breakdown? She laughed, a sudden flash of white teeth, her lovely auburn hair swirling over her shoulders. “Relax, Wester, I’m not going to attack you!” She released my hand with another dazzling smile. “It’s just that I am ecstatic to see you. And I’d like to thank you, personally.”

“For what?”

“Are you kidding? For that Omni you delivered to me! He had everything but a red ribbon around his neck! And for Mantis. For what? How can you ask?”

“What’s Mantis?”

“Mantis is what we’ve named Gildron’s world. Good lord, Wester, do you have the faintest idea what you’ve done?”

“I guess not.”

“Well I hardly know where to start. That live O. Deadman, we now have the entire genome sequence, the biotic field, the brain aura, the psycellseverything! They don’t have any more secrets from us. There are a growing number of ways we can kill them. They’re not a threat any more, Wester. Because of that one O. Because of you!”

“Thank the Taka. I didn’t capture it, they did.”

“Oh, we will thank them, Wester, you can bet on it. But you gave him to usyou made it happen. The situation is now reversed, Wester. We don’t have to fear them any more. We’re already developing the biobloc for Omni targets.”

“Good. Let’s kill them all and rid the galaxy of them forever. Now tell me about what is it? Mantis. What did you mean, ‘bingo’?”

She looked at me calmly, smiling like a saint. “We found it, Wester. At Mantis. The hive. Their galactic headquarters. The whole fleet! There are tens of thousands of Omni starships orbiting Mantis, Wester. The O’s are swarming over the planet. They have settlements downsidelots of them. We’re frantically examining the data. Critic Cosmic Secret, Wester. Not a word to anyone! This is it. We’re not going after Mongera, that’s the deception op. It will be Mantisour one big chance to exterminate this plague. This will be the battle for the galaxy. This will be the final battlefinal victory, or final defeat, for humanity. We’re going to be victorious, Wester! I’ve never been more confident. How did you do it, Wester? I thanked Deadman, on my knees, when I fully realized what you had done, I swear it. How did you do it? You’re truly amazing. You’re admitted to the Body Shop with serious burns, and then you send me a message telling me where the O’s main force is located. We’ve been searching for that site for years!”

“It wasn’t me.” My heart was hammering. I wasn’t sure whether Tara’s news was good or bad, for my mission. I guessed it couldn’t hurt to go for broke. I didn’t give a damn for the final battle. All I wanted was Moontouch.

“You’re always so modest, Wester. Well, who was it if it wasn’t you?”

“It was Moontouch. She’s the one who told me.”

“And how did she do that? I thought she was missing.”

“She is. She’s on Mantis.”

“Deadman! It’s not possible, Wester.”

“What’s not possible?”

“What you’re thinking. You want to do a recon snatch, and rescue her. That’s what you’re thinking.” Tara was a psycher. She was a very powerful psycher. I knew I couldn’t hide anything from her.

“Yes, that’s right. And why is that not possible?”

“We’re going to attack Mantis, very soon, with everything we have. And until Fleetcom suddenly appears in Mantis vac, attacking every O starship simultaneously, and dropping antimats on every O base simultaneously, we are going to ensure the O’s have no idea we know where they are. There can’t be any reconsof any kind. No further activityof any kind.”

“You had to do at least one recon, to confirm they were there.”

“Yes, Wester, but it was a fully cloaked tacship. And it was not detected. We seeded the at with Q-link eyemotesmore new technologyand that’s what we’re using now. Undetectable!”

“We can do another reconone more. Give me that tacship.”

“No. It’s out of the question! This attack must be perfect.”

“She gave you the info! I gave you the info! You’re going to let her die?”

“It can’t be done, Wester.”

“I gave you the site, Tara. You wouldn’t be there without me. You’re saying no?”

“We can’t risk endangering the entire attack for one individual.” Tara was paleshe appeared to be almost in shock.

“If you don’t help me, I’ll do it myself.” An ice-cold rage, running through my veins.

“I know you will, Wester. And I won’t permit it.”

“And what will you do?”

“You’ll be in the brig, incommunicado, until it’s all over.”

“You do that and I’ll kill you when I get out.”

“You mean that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I’m sorry, Wester.”

“You are!”

“How do you know she’s there? You don’t even know she’s there! Your thoughts are perfectly clear. You want me to risk the future of our civilization, the lives of all our brave soldiers, and you’re not even sure she’s there?” Her eyes were blazing.

“Give me access to those Q-link eyemotes. Tell me what ships are in orbit there. I’ll find out whether she’s there or not.”

“Yes. I can do that.”

“Then do it! I’ll report today to GI.”

“Not too many people know about Mantis, Wester. Don’t even mention the name. The op is codenamed Lotus. Don’t mention that either. Most people will not be briefed until after we’re launched. I’ll give you all the access you need. But if anyone asks, you’re working on cosmic secret recon projects associated with the coming offensive on Mongera. The code for that one is Operation Lily.”

“Fine.”

“You’ve got to promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I’ll do whatever I have to do to get my wife back!”

“So will I, Wester. So will I. Come to me. I’ll do whatever can be done.”

“Don’t you throw obstacles in my way, Tara! I’ve got too many friends. And they owe me. They all owe me, just like I owe them. They’re not going to say no to me, like you did.”

“Don’t you even think it, Wester. I didn’t say no!”

“Yes, you did!”

“Work with me, Wester. We’ll get it done. Let’s find out what the situation is, then you come to me. Promise.”

“Sorry I said I’d kill you.”

“Sorry I said I’d jail you. It’s just too much pressure, Wester. Too much! You can’t imagine what’s been happening. Come hereI want to show you.” She leaped up, marching over to her wide conference desk, triggering a star holo. I followed. The holo lit up behind her desk as the lights faded until we had a God’s-eye view of the inhabited galaxy. A buzzer sounded on Tara’s desk.

“Yeah?” she snapped.

“General Rono,” Tara’s aide announced.

“No, Lori, no! I’m not ready! Tell the general to wait fifteen marks. No further interruptions, please.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’d better go, Tara,” I said. “I’d hate to keep a general waiting.”

“Stay, Wester. He’s only a one-star. I want you to understand what’s at stake here. Lookdo you remember Asumara? Do you remember the Temple of the Sun?” She pierced a star system with a cold green laser. Tiny crimson letters appeared: ASUMARA HOLY COMMUNE.

“Oh yeah.” A sudden flash from the back of my mind, wild red eyes and a gaping mouth full of yellow fangs, coming right at me.

“You remember we were searching for six Legion hotcarsQuasar Model 2B’sthat had been left behind on Pherdos after the successful completion of the Pherdos Campaign, and that we suspected at least one of them may have participated in the raid on the Temple of the Sun at Asumara.” The laser flashed over to Pherdos, and the caption PHERDAN FEDERATION appeared.

“I remember.”

“We have learned that all six of those aircarsthat we had turned over to the new Pherdan Governmentwere subsequently transferred to the United System Alliance.” The laser shot over half the inhabited galaxy to trigger another glowing red caption: UNITED SYSTEM ALLIANCE.

“No kidding.”

“And that’s the last we saw of themuntil at least one of them showed up in the raid on the Temple of the Sun. Or at least it looks that way.”

“Interesting.”

“They can’t hide from me, Wester. I know the System is behind this. I know they did Asumara, and that triggered Fortuna. And once I can prove itto myselfthey’re going to pay, in blood.”

“Let’s do one war at a time, Tara.”

“No. You have to do it all at once, Wester. It all ties together. It’s one great spider web. I can feel those silken threads, trembling. They think they have us, but they don’twe have them! Remember the man in the shadows, Wester? ‘Think the unthinkable, plan the audacious,’ he said. Yes! He was right. I’ve taken his advice. That Omni you gift-wrapped for me. We treated him right. We fixed him up and learned all we could about his body, and did all we could to scan his mind. We extracted so much from his mind, but it’s so hard to read that we may never succeed. We still don’t know why they attacked us. But there’s an easier way to pass our message. Your O was strapped into a special chair we built for him while we explored his mind. But we introduced a second chair, for me, and I was strapped into that one, facing him, and my psybloc was turned off. Oh, we took every precaution, in case he tried to hurt me, but he didn’t. We let him go into my mind. We let him read everything he wanted. You see, we hadn’t done anything to warrant their attack. We had passed them the antidote to the plague. That’s the last thing we had done. So we decided to let this fellow into my mind. Me, who knows pretty much all there is to know. I think you could call that audacious, couldn’t you? We can’t read them, but we know they can read us.”

“Deadman! He could have killed you, Tara.”

“He didn’t. You know what we did next? We transported him to Mongera, landed, and let him go.”

“Good lord. We’re fighting a war with them, and you let them into the mind of a two-star general. And turned him loose? Are you crazy? What about the element of surprise? What about Mantis?”

“We didn’t know about Mantis then, Wester. We had no plan of attack then, except for repulsing them from the Outvac, and maybe going after Mongera. And I don’t mind if they know that. And our progress in learning how to kill them. I don’t even mind if they learn that.”

“What do you expect to accomplish from this insanity?”

“I expect they will conclude that our intentions are not aggressive, and we are only protecting ourselves.”

“Why should you care about that? Why should they? They’re the aggressors, not us!”

“Maybe they don’t know that.”

“What does that mean?”

“Remember the man in the shadows?”

“Sure. How could I forget that psycho?”

“I took his advice on more than the O, Wester. Remember that eyemote recording? That staff meeting?”

“Sure.”

“I always thought it was a little peculiar. The phrasing he used. Some of the things he said.”

“Peculiar?”

“Very peculiar. I decided to send the recording to Durdreigh Darton, Chairman of the United System Alliance.”

“You’ve lost it, Tara! First you’re exposing every official secret you know to the O’s and delivering it to them. Then you’re sending our eyemote intercepts to the chief of the System. You’re the one who should be in the brig, not me.”

“I didn’t do this on my own, Wester. We all agreed. Everyone in Starcom. We thought a lot about the implications. As for the O, it had to be me, because my psychic abilities, although primitive compared to the O’s, might have made a difference. We had done a lot of analysis of that Omni message that I showed you. We concluded that they felt betrayed and aggrieved, although we’re not sure why. And it seemed clear that it was ConFree that was the target of their anger. We wanted to show them that we had not done anything against them. Since we couldn’t communicate with them, we made it possible for them to read my thoughts. And we’re gambling that the result will be good. And as for the eyemote data, eyemotes are no longer secret. The System knows we have them. The System has them, too. And we don’t care. But this talk that Jarzha Gwinn was givingit was most interesting. Who do you think he was addressing?”

“A gang of Systie big shots, I suppose. Is it important?”

“It sure is. I can’t tell you whether my strategy with the O’s will have positive results. But sending the recording to the System seems to be working.”

“How’s that?”

“Some of our most sensitive sources in the System have just reported a major political purge is underway. Initial reports indicate many high-ranking System officials have been detained, interrogated, mindscanned and imprisonedand the purge is growing.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I think it’s the direct result of that recording I sent to Chairman Darton. Think the unthinkable, plan the audaciousadvice from the enemy, Wester. Good advice.”

“Why do you think that? Who’s being arrested?”

“I think it shows my suspicions are confirmed. It’s the Ormans who are being arrested. All of the victims of this purge are Ormans. Jarzha Gwinn is an Ormanand he was addressing his Orman colleagues in that talk. That’s who the audience was, I’m sure: Orman officials, and only Orman officials. They staff the highest levels of the System government, they wield great influence. And their comfortable little world is now coming unravelled. The Mocains have always been uneasy with the Ormans, and unless I’m badly mistaken, my recording has tipped the balance in showing the Mocains that the Ormans are a subversive influence, loyal only to themselves.”

“Good lord. It’s almost as if you’ve instituted the purge,”

“No, it’s not me, Wester. It’s the Mocains who are doing the purging, not me. I’m just a facilitator. I’m just shining the spotlight. The Ormans have gotten too powerful, too arrogant, too self-confident. They think they can do anything. But they’re wrong. The System was unaware of that meeting. It was a Mocains-only show. I was just lucky enough to have caught it with that eyemote.”

The buzzer sounded again.

“Yes?” Tara asked.

“It’s General Rono, sir. He wants to “

“I’ll see him. Wester, take the back door. I think I’ve tried the general’s patience long enough. Rememberany problems, see me.”

“Thank you, Tara.”

“Bless you, Wester. We’ll find your wifedon’t worry!”

Chapter 16

The Sword of Light

“Take a look,” I said. We were facing a pale d-screen that focused on what looked like a stone hut built into a dirt hillside. It was the dead of night on Andrion 2, but a soft morning on the screen. “This is real-time. A Q-link eyemote. It’s bloody miraculous,” I continued. We huddled around the screen in an otherwise darkened recon comcen. I was in the chair, exhausted but elatedlittle beads of sweat were trickling down my temples. Deadeye and Stormdawn bent over the screen, soft green light illuminating their narrow faces. They both still wore death paint. It would not come off until the mission was over, or they were dead. Dragon was in another chair, a formidable presence, leaning forward as if to devour the image.

“We go in,” I whispered. I touched the controls gently with one hand. The view focused in on the hut, then floated towards a wooden door that appeared to be firmly shut. I maneuvered the eyemote right through the crack between door and frame. The view darkened, then slowly adjusted. We floated near the ceiling, looking down. The view showed a large room, full of bulky wooden furniture, large chests and bins and oversized beds piled with bedding and evidently full of slumbering giants. A low fire flickered eerily in a wide stone hearth, casting the only light. Two figures tended the fire, adding tinder and setting pots and pans of food over the fire. Breakfast, for the family. The first figure was huge, clad in a dark robe. She was evidently female, but her body was almost entirely covered in short, curly dark hair. The firelight lit up her face, a giant female savage looking out past thick tangled brown hair that framed her head like a haloa heavy brow ridge, deep-set liquid eyes, wide nostrils, and a wide, somewhat sensitive mouth. The second figure was considerably smallera human, also female. Her graceful bare arms glowed almost gold in the firelight as she adjusted the pans. She was also clad in a dark robe. Long straight black hair fell to her shoulders like silk. Her face was serene, and her dark eyes reflected the fire as the shadows danced over her high cheekbones and delicate, narrow face. I clenched my teeth savagely as the tears again filled my eyes.

“Mama!” Stormdawn’s hand hovered over the d-screen. He was trembling, and I knew he couldn’t see her any better than I could, at that point.

“Deadman!” Dragon exclaimed.

“I thank the Gods,” Deadeye whispered in astonishment. I didn’t have to say a word. I just let them watch her preparing breakfast. Some of the giants in the beds were stirring. It was time to get up. I tried to compose myself. I finally spoke.

“I told you I’d find her. She’s alive. And we’re going to go and get her!”

“Who are these creatures?” Deadeye asked. “How do we fight them?”

“We don’t fight them. These are good creatures. They are friends. As long as Moontouch is with them, she’ll be safe from the O’s. You can think of them as angels, if you want. They are holy.”

“What’s the target?” Dragon asked. He had not yet been briefed.

“I can’t tell you yet. Except that this particular target is over 10,000 light years away. Nobody’s ever been thereexcept the O’s. And the O’s are there. Plenty of them.”

“How did she get away from them?” Dragon asked.

“She didn’t,” I replied. “The O ship took her to this world. They evidently sent their human cargo downside, and the natives welcomed the detainees into their homes.”

“Why did the O’s do that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they figure it’s easier to let the natives handle their captives for them, until they need them back.”

“This is Gildron’s home world, isn’t it?”

“That’s right, Dragon. Herewatch this.” I switched the view to another eyemote. It was floating high above the little settlement, revealing a series of stone huts built into low hills near a little stream of fresh water.

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll lose Moontouch?”

“No. I’ve got four eyemotes locked on to her. If we lose any, they’ll be replaced. We’ve got plenty of eyemotes. We’ll not lose her. Now look over there.”

The eyemote showed a series of interlocking crystal-like structures not far off, reflecting the early morning sunlight. They were quite beautiful.

“What’s that?”

“Those are Omni hivesit’s where they live. Their version of squadmods, I suppose. As you can see, it’s direct line of sight to our target. The Omnis are all over this world. This is just the closest hive.”

“So if we drop here to snatch Moontouch, we can expect to engage the O’s in combat.”

“That’s a ten. But that’s not all we have to worry about. Moontouch is not the only Taka captive staying with the Daz’ra. We’re still tracking everyone down, but so far we’ve got twenty-seven other Taka in this vicinity.”

“I see,” Dragon said.

“Oh, that’s not all. There are also eight ConFree captivesin the immediate vicinity.”

“Terrific. And how much time do we have to do this?”

“Maybe five marks. That’s about it. That’s all Tara will give us. After that, all hell is going to break loose, and the O’s may lose interest in us quickly. But if we hang around too long, chances are high we’ll run into an antimat.”

“Do you have any good news for me?” Dragon asked.

“Yes. I’ve found my wife, Stormdawn has found his mother, Deadeye has found his Queen, and we’re about to liberate twenty-eight Taka and eight Outworlders from the O’s. And even if we fail, we’re going to exterminate a great many O’s, and leave a cleaner galaxy behind us. That’s the good news.”

“It all seems rather straightforward,” I said, leaning over the tacmap that glowed on the circular holo table. It was a perfect 3D representation of the target, now zooming out to include the nearest Omni hive.

“That’s what worries me,” Dragon said.

“It is straightforward,” Snow Leopard said. “The only problem is the time constraints.” He was rubbing his hands together slowly as his hot pink eyes glared at the holo. Snow Leopard hadn’t changed at allstraight white-blond hair, an icy pale face, blue veins throbbing at his temples and those burning pink eyesnothing could escape them. It was terrific having him here, and in charge of the planning. He was my first squad leader, and Dragon and I trusted him with our lives.

“We should have Holo-X,” I noted. “It’s crazy not to have Holo-X. Why should we go in live? The op may fail without Holo-X.”

“You need a platform to use Holo-X,” Snow Leopard noted calmly, “and we ain’t got no platform.” He’d said it before.

“We should!” I’d said that before, too.

“Three, General Hanna says no Holo-X. You know why. The future of humanity may depend on a successful attack on Mantis. This will be our only chance to destroy the entire Omni fleetat one go. By all rights she shouldn’t even agree to your op, but she’s giving you five marks. That’s it. And we’re not giving the O’s any warning with some tacship suddenly appearing to serve as a platform for a Holo-X attack.”

“We can do it, Thinker,” Dragon said. “We don’t need Holo-X. We drop in a phantom, grab Moontouch and hustle her into the ship.”

“I told you, she’ll not come. She’ll insist we evac all the othersall the Taka and all the Outworlders. I can predict the future too, you see.”

“Well, we’ll just have to do it. Or as much of it as we can.”

“I’m going to stun her if it comes to that,” I declared.

“You’ll be sleeping alone for ten years,” Dragon noted.

“I don’t care. She’s the mission. Not everybody else. We can’t evac the whole damned world in five marks. Suppose she wants us to take the Daz’ra too? Deadman!”

“Let’s see the attack again,” Snow Leopard demanded. There were only the three of us in the tacmod. It was dark in there except for the glow of the holo. It lit us up, three soldiers of the Legion, clad in dark camfax fatigues, mapping out the future.

“Mark!” I said, triggering the attack. The tacmap was now illuminated faintlya pale silvery moon cast a bewitching glow. Our Phantom appeared from the northwest, a single blue dot simulating the fact that it was completely shielded, completely invisible to the enemy and all their defensive systems. The ship smoothly glided to a landing just behind the little series of hills that were riddled with the Daz’ra’s stone burrows. Ten A-suited soldiers burst from the Phantom, now covered by the hills which blocked line of sight to the nearest O hive. The ten soldiers starburst, but they were all headed up the hills and over the top, bound for the huts on the other side. They soon appeared on the far side, and at that point they were visible to any O who happened to be on watch. It was night and the O’s lovely crystal hive glowed a faint pink in the distance. Three A-suited soldiers blew away the door of the hut that held Moontouch, and entered. That would be me, Deadeye and Stormdawn. I knew that hut all right. It was carved right into my heart. We still had a hell of a lot to do but from that moment on it was all over for me. The only thing to decide was how many of us were going to die.

“Four marks!” Snow Leopard barked.

“Damn it! This is impossible! We’ve only entered one hut.” I objected. The rest of the squad were still hustling toward the other target huts. The Phantom was rising, popping over the hills and settling down into the designated evac site. And suddenly tacstars were flashing all around the huts. A gang of armored, shielded Omnis were charging forward from the hive. The reaction teamterrific! The Phantom popped up and lunged forward at the O’s, spraying the area with tacstars.

“Fleetcom is now launching the strategic attack,” Snow Leopard announced. “You’ve got less than a mark to evac the area. Antimats are on the way.”

“Deto!” I noted. “This won’t do.”

“We’ll have to have the Phantom nuke the hive before we do anything else,” Dragon said.

“More time wasted,” Snow Leopard observed. “We don’t know the reaction team is going to come at us like that. It’s just a possibility. We’ll be watching them with the eyemotes. It could be there’ll be no reaction at all.”

“But we have to prep for it.” I said.

“Of course,” Snow Leopard said, maddeningly calm. “We have to prep for everything. But you also have to decide what’s likely and what’s not likely. Why should they react so quickly? They’re fat and happy. The natives are friendly. The O’s suspect nothing.”

“Scut!”

“Decision time is fast approaching to launch Operation Lotus. This will be the most massive attack Fleetcom has ever launched. We’re going to destroy their fleetall of it. And we’re going to annihilate their downside installationsall of them.”

“And what about the nativesGildron’s people?”

“There’s nothing we can do about them. The question is does all of humanity survive or die. That’s what we have to worry about. Nothing else.”

“They die, so we can live?”

“That’s correct. Now remember, if anyone asks, this is Operation Lily, and the target is Mongera. That’s what everybody thinks, at this stage. The true target will be revealed only after we’re in the hole. All right, let’s get to work. Once we’re launched, the whole squad will practice in the E-sim holo chambers, repeatedly, until we get it right. We’ll be on Atom’s Road, and the ES chambers are fully integrated. It’s going to be a long tripbut when we get there, we’ll be ready.”

“Atom’s Road!” Dragon exclaimed. She was our first starshipan old friend.

“Atom’s Road,” I repeated quietly. It was a good sign.

“You remember my girl,” Redhawk said. We were in the launch deck of the cruiser Spawn, docked with Atom’s Road, and we were on vac run red, barreling our way into the hole, into the out and out to the in, cutting a terrifying artificial wormhole right into the heart of the cosmos, going further than anyone had gone before. And we weren’t alone. Almost all of Fleetcom was with us and much of the ConFree Legion as well. Redhawk and I huddled in the shadows under a giant, icy black bird that was so grim and deadly that it seemed almost alive. I reached up and touched her frosty skin. The cenite armor was close to indestructible but it was so smooth and slick it seemedalmost liquid. I couldn’t quite make out the shape. It was roughly delta-shaped, but it seemed to kind of fold in on itself just when you thought you had it. The damned thing was gigantic.

“Is this the same gal who took us to Augusta 6?”

“That’s right, Thinker. This is the Kiss.” Redhawk looked up at her in adoration. His greasy, tangled red hair reached to his shoulders and his ratty, scruffy beard was in worse shape than ever, but his bright blue eyes were glowing. “She’s my lover and she’s one tough bitch. This is our honey. The Spawn will launch us, far beyond the Mantis planetary system, beyond the O’s defensive systems. And Kiss will take us thereshe’s a long-range shuttle and she’s invisible, completely cloaked. And if the O’s do spot her, she’ll make them wish they hadn’t. I can promise you that.” He ran a finger along her skin tenderly.

“I remember the Kiss,” I said. We had been through a lot together, the Kiss and I. Augusta 6, where we had rescued Tara, the Calgoran raid, the Camelora 7 raid where we had fought the O’s with Holo-X and then slaughtered a large number of ConFree childrenfor their own good, of course. Odura, on our search for the origin of the White Death. That early raid on Pherdos, and the Santos recon where Priestess was horribly wounded. And Eiros 4, the ultimate mission, where we confronted KCA himself. Kiss was there for it all. She was always dependable, always there. And I knew Redhawk was the best pilot in the galaxy. Recon didn’t use aircars any morethey used Phantoms. So, it was to be the Kiss. That was good. Atom’s Road, Spawn and the Kiss. Those had to be good signs.

“You can depend on me, Thinker. I’ll be there for the evac. And if the O’s attack, Kiss and I will kill them all, very quickly. You can depend on that too. Believe it!”

“I believe you, Redhawk.”

“How’s Priestess?”

“She’s fine. Back on Providence, raising our kidLester.”

“And your other wife? You’ve got a kid by her too, don’t you?”

“Yes. Millie. She’s on Tough Love, a hospital ship that’s accompanying our task force. Priestess is taking care of her kid, tooAndrea, my first daughter. How are you and Whit doing?”

“Oh, we’re happy. No kids yet. It’s kind of, well, chaotic. I’m doing my thing, she’s doing hers. She’s working very hard at making a success of her shipping firm. She invested in an old starship and she’s running cargo between Galgos and the Crista Cluster.”

“All legitimate?”

“All legitimate! She doesn’t want any more trouble with the Legion. If it works out she should retire richand no funny business required. She’s still got this thing about money.”

“Well, she deserves it.” Whit was one of us by nowshe’d earned her place in our hearts, with blood.

“Attention!” Dragon’s voice snapped like a whip. Nine soldiers in camfax fatigues braced for inspection. We were in some nameless, cold cube deep in the labyrinth of Atom’s cenite intestines, and it was time for me to look over the squad. I paused before the squad’s Two.

“Sir, Sweats, sir, deputy squad leader, Recon Nine-Seven!” He was young and intense, short tawny hair, alert grey eyes.

“Hello, Sweats. Good to see you again.” I remembered him from Pherdos. Dragon had told me he was a first-class trooper, and a natural leader. I knew everybody in the squad had seen combat.

“Sir, thank you sir!”

Deadeye and Stormdawn were next, both doing a pretty good imitation of a Legion brace, looking perfectly comfortable in Legion camfax.

“For your Queen,” I said quietly. They remained frozen at attention, still in deathpaint. I wasn’t worried about them. It was our enemies who should be worried.

“Sir, Recon Five, Tourist, sir, Manlink specialist!” Curly brown hair, brown eyes, a finely chiseled facehe looked like a handsome young layabout who should have been decorating a beach somewhere. But here he was, all set to die for ConFree.

“Good to see you too, Tourist. We’re going to need that Manlink.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

“Sir, Recon Six, Jo-Jo, sir!” He was a giant trooper with bulging biceps and a large head seemingly carved from granite. He looked like he had stepped right out of the stone age.

“Glad you’re on our side, Jo-Jo. Dragon tells me you almost beat him in arm-wrestling.”

“Sir! He’s going down, sir. Sooner or later.” He seemed very serious about it.

“Sir, Recon Seven, Rabies, sir!” A pale, wiry dark haired trooper with wild eyes. A madman, I thought. We have lots of them in the Legion.

“Your One is seriously disabled in an attack by six O’s, who are overrunning his position,” I said. “He orders you to abandon him and alert the rest of your unit. What do you do?”

“I attack the O’s to rescue him, and I break blackout to warn the rest of the unit.” He seemed perfectly calm, and I had no doubt that was exactly what he would do.

“Good,” I said.

“Sir, Recon Eight, Viper, sir!” A slender, attractive girl with short brown hair and glittering green eyes. Poisonous, I thought. Don’t get too close.

“You served on Pherdos?”

“Sir. Yes, sir.” Her face darkened. Pherdosthat was all the credentials she needed.

“Sir, Recon Nine, Doctor Doom, sir, medic.” A handsome Assidic male, classic features, slightly slanted eyes, high cheekbones, straight black hair, a delegate from the bloody past, carrying the genes of Saka the Invincible.

“How are you, DD? I’m hoping we won’t need your services.”

“Sir, yes sir! Me too.”

Redhawk was the last one, grinning like a fool.

“Sir, Recon Ten, Redhawk, sir. Phantom pilot.”

“The Phantom pilot, you mean,” I replied. “How’s the bird, Redhawk?”

“Ready to lift, sir. Any time!”

“Good. Good. All right, troopers. You’ve been briefed on the mission. We’re on our way to the other side of the galaxy, to rescue some female captivesOutworlders and Takafrom the O. We’ve got five marks to do the job, before all hell breaks loose. We’re going to practice this op until we can do it in our sleep, and when we arrive there, we’ll be ready. Now I know you’re all volunteers but I want you to think about this. Why is the Legion doing this? Eight Outworlder captives and twenty-seven Taka, all female. All doomedcaptives of the O. Well, I’ll tell you why. It’s because this is what the Legion does. We fight evil. That’s what we dothat’s all we do! And it doesn’t matter how hard it is, how hopeless it is, how unlikely it is that we’ll succeed. None of that matters. We fight evil, and we fight for those who stood by our side against the rest of the universe, and we rescue innocents from the gates of Hell. That’s what we do, and if you ever have any doubts about your service to the people of ConFree, you remember this mission. It doesn’t get any better than this. You can’t die for a better cause than this. I’m proud to be serving with every one of you. Now let’s get to work.”

I was on my knees in the Godmod, praying quietly to the Gods of Hell. Deadman and the Cross of the Legion adorned the bulkhead. It was stark and primitive, savage idols on cold cenite, pagan Gods for soldiers without souls. One last chance, for the dead. Icy sweat trickled down my flesh. My face was battered and cut and one hand was bleeding. My fatigues were soaked in sweat and I was still breathing hard. The ES sessions were getting harder and harder, but I was getting harder tooharder and stronger and faster. It was just like being shot in the heart, every time I saw Moontouch’s image. I knew it was the same for Stormdawn and Deadeye. We were all exhausted, ready to drop. But we were getting better. That’s all we did. We did the snatch, again and again and again, under all possible circumstances. It was never easy. Half the time we were all killed. It was so damned realistic it was terrifying. But we did those sessions again. And again. And again. Until we got it right. Then Snow Leopard would pull something else. It was maddening. But I didn’t mind. I didn’t care how hard it was. It was for a good cause.

Deadman was looking down at me, and I was looking up at him. Generations of Legion soldiers had died for us. Now it was our turn. I whispered the words:

“I am a soldier of the Legion

I believe in Evil

The survival of the strong

And the death of the weak.

I am the Guardian

I am the sword of light

In the dark of the night.

I will deliver us from Evil.

“I accept life everlasting

And the death of my past.

I will trust no Earther worm

Nor any mortal man,

But only the Mark of the Legion.

I have burnt the Book of Laws

To serve the Deadman’s Cause

As a soldier of the Legion “

My lips were chanting the words, but my mind was busy with another prayer. Grant me victory, Deadman! Let me liberate her, Deadman! Let me touch her again, only that, and I’ll do the rest. Just get me there, that’s all I need. Watch over her until I get there. That’s my victory. Let me walk in that door and find her there and I’ll do whatever you want, my whole immortal life.

“Prep for ZA. Approaching target. No reaction from hostiles.” Redhawk was maddeningly calm as the Phantom slowed and floated eerily towards the series of small hills. It was early morning out there, icy stars glittering overhead in deep black velvet, one horizon just starting to turn a faint violet. Adrenalin shot through my veins. My heartbeat speeded up. Red light bathed the interior of my helmet. My faceplate was covered with calm green stat boxes. All systems were active. Just a whisper, just a faint touch on the trigger of my E, and all my enemies would be blown to smithereens. I knew all the power of the Legion was with me. I did not fear the O’s, but I feared what might happen to Moontouch. Deadeye and Stormdawn were beside me in the crash seats, A&A, fully armored and clutching their E’s. I stole another glance out the armored plex, but it was pretty dark.

“Prep to decar. Still no reaction.” In view of the time constraints the plan had been altered. The Phantom was to drop right outside Moontouch’s hut, and we’d be there in fracs. We weren’t giving the O’s any time at all to react. By the time they noticed us, we’d be on our way outwe hoped.

“Decar!” The Phantom’s assault door snapped open and I launched myself into a whirlwind of gritty dust, hitting the ground hard but upright. I bounded towards the hut buried in the hillside, recognizable only by the pulsing red outline of the doorway on my faceplate, courtesy of Sweety. My adrenalin was aflame but I checked elapsed time, 03 fracs since decar and I was there already! That beat the hell out of our initial time of 4 marks.

“Cancel sim! Thinker, report to Snow Leopard. Squad, stand by.” The scene before me vanished abruptly, leaving me half-blinded and still twitching in my A-suit in a featureless ES holo chamber, the holo sim lights fading.

“Deto!” I cursed. “What the hell!” This was to be our last test run, and we were getting really good. Damn it! I popped open the chamber door and staggered down the corridor towards Control, ripping my helmet off. I was bathed in sweat, already. Can’t we at least finish the damned exercise? It was our last chance.

“Have a seat, Thinker.” Snow Leopard didn’t even look up from his seat before the d-screen squad console. He was reading a printout.

“Was that really necessary?” I asked, collapsing into an airchair. “Couldn’t you have let us finish the exercise?”

“Yes it was and no I couldn’t,” Snow Leopard replied calmly. “We’re running out of time, and you’re going to have to brief your troops. I’ve just received new orders from Starcom.” He put the printout aside and fixed his hot pink eyes on me. “You are not to fire unless fired upon.”

“What!”

“You heard me. That’s direct from Starcom. You’re going to have to factor that in to your mission.”

“Factor it in? If we let them fire first, we’re going to be dead! Factor that!”

“Maybe. But those are the orders. It will apply to your squad, and to your Phantom. Do not fire unless fired upon.”

“Snow Leopard.” I paused, desperate for some sign of sanity. “Why would Starcom give an order like that? That’s crazy!”

“I don’t know why they would, Thinker. They give ordersnot explanations. And we obey the orders. We don’t question them. My experience isthat there are always reasons for orders like this. But it’s not our business to ask.”

“If Starcom wants the mission to fail, why don’t they just cancel it?”

“Do you want to cancel it, Thinker? It’s my understanding that Tara got you this mission over a lot of objections from Starcom. They probably wouldn’t mind cancelling it.”

“No. I don’t want to cancel.” A hot rage was rushing over me. More obstacles. Nothing but obstacles, to be overrun, to be blasted to bits.

“All right. You’ve got to brief your squad. First, let’s revise the ops plan.”

Chapter 17

Mantis

“There it isMantis.” It was a golden pearl, glittering almost like a star, so bright, so luminous that the backdrop of milky stars just faded away before its glory. We were in the Kiss, looking right at our future.

“Deadman. Where’s the star?” Dragon asked.

“Over there, left and behind us. You can’t see it from your seat,” Redhawk said.

I just stared at the planet. MantisI had never imagined it would be so beautiful. Dear holy God, it was magnificent. It was still quite distant, but as we drew nearer and nearer, I realized the planet was mostly water; and it was reflecting the sunlight, a blinding sheet of molten gold. This was Gildron’s world. He had yearned to return there, after many years in the hands of the slavers, and even after having found love with Tara. He had never known where his world was, until the end, just before he gave his life, so that we might live.

We owed him, I thought. He was gone, but we owed his peoplethe Daz’ra. That was what Gildron said they were calledthe Daz’ra. It meant ‘people’. We owed them. And we were going to repay them by peppering their world with antimats. The O’s had chosen Mantis as their primary galactic base, and we were going to annihilate every O starship, every O base, every O on Mantis. A lot of Daz’ra would surely die as well, in the carnage. And there was nothing at all we could do about it. I sure didn’t have any solutions. This was our one chance to strike a decisive blow against the entire O fleet. And we were going to take it. I felt so sorry for the Daz’ra. What a poor way to repay them, for Gildron’s selfless act.

“Any activity from the O fleet?” I asked. I had to get my mind back on the subject at hand.

“That’s a twelve,” Redhawk replied. “Look at them all. Fat and happy. Look at all those fighters and scouts.” On the tacscreen the planet was ringed with starships, a dusty pink halo of red dots, each a ship, great motherships and battlestars, transports and carriers, cruisers and tacships and interceptors and fighters. It was a huge fleet, hardened by hundreds of years of battle, hovering over the O’s new home, the planet they had chosen as the springboard for the attack on the rest of the inhabited galaxy.

“We’re invisible,” Redhawk added happily. “We’re sliding right in, past everything they’ve got. Nobody can see the Kiss. We’re an invisible bullet. Don’t worry, Thinker, we’ll get you there. The Kiss has never failed us.”

As I watched that lovely planet grow larger as we approached, a lump grew in my throat and my eyes started watering. Damn it! It’s obscene, what we’re going to do to that world, and everyone who lives on it. Kill ‘em all! That was our mission, wasn’t it? That was what we did, what the Legion did. We killed, for peace. Yeswell, it was just too damned bad, wasn’t it? Stop snivelling! It’s kill or be killed out here. The O’s have already butchered two billion humans. Now it’s our turn. Two billion dead O’s, that’s what I wanted to see. And if a lot of innocents were to die in the crossfire, it was just too damned bad. Deadman would just have to sort them out, wouldn’t he?

I tore my gaze away from Mantis, into a glorious, milky trail of diamond dust, scattered across a velvet sky. No escape. A cold thrill ran over my flesh. We were falling through the cosmos like an evil bat, headed straight as an arrow to Mantis.

“Stars,” I whispered. Sweety responded immediately. The music of the stars hissed and crackled in my ears, an insane orchestra of doomed suns, erupting supernovae, howling black holes, growling red giants, shrieking white dwarves. It always calmed me down.

“Think we’ll do all right?” Sweats asked me on private. I knew he was a good man, focused on the mission.

“It’s going to be perfect,” I replied quickly. “Kick in the doors, secure eight Outworlders and twenty-eight Taka, back in the Kiss, and we’re gone. Better than sims. Nobody’s going to stop us. You can bet on it.” And after that, I thought, comes the holocaustfor everybody. Nobody was about to reveal to me what Fleetcom’s strength was for this mission, but from what Tara had said I strongly suspected most of ConFree’s galactic star fleet would be on this mission. They were coming, even now, thousands of dark, battle-scarred ships from the bloody victory at Andrion Deep, unstoppable, irresistible, full of bitter Fleetcom vacheads and fanatic Legion boots sworn to die for our people, for every woman and child in ConFree, pledged to avenge our dead, all set to burst out of stardrive at exactly zero hour, and fall on the Omni fleet like a swarm of psychotic avenging angels.

I tried not to stare at that gigantic, blazing world as we fell towards it. All I lived for was to happen, this very day. My wife, my love, was down there, and I would be meeting her soon. I could almost taste her. It was deathly silent in the Spawnonly a few peeps from the instruments on the console, and the murmur of the universe in my ears. Outside, an infinity of icy stars. I knew the Gods didn’t care a whit if we lived or died. We were A&A, armored and armed, but the helmets were off. Stormdawn was praying, eyes closed, lips moving soundlesslya chant to the dead, I knew, for victory. Deadeye was sharpening a Legion cold knife that I had issued him, his face impassive. Anything that got in his way was going to die very quickly, I knew. Both Deadeye and Storm were expert marksmen with the E by now. And I knew they had no pity for their enemies.

“Now you mind your manners, Jo-Jo,” Tourist said, “remember, don’t fire unless they kill us first!” He gave me a wild grin.

“Can I cuss at ‘em?” Jo-Jo rumbled.

“Cuss at ‘em all you want, gang, but remember your orders,” I said calmly. “Don’t fire unless you’re fired upon. Once they do fire, let loose. Until then, keep your safeties on. I’ll be right up front, so I should take the first rounds if they do fire. I know I can depend upon you.” Don’t fire unless fired upon! It was lunacy. We needed all the advantage we could get, with the O’s. And now this. It probably made perfect sense to the fat-assed rear echelon weenie who had thought it up. But he wasn’t here.

I tried to relax, leaning back in the command chair just behind the pilot. It had been a long flight. The Spawn had chosen an impossible distant derelict asteroid, far outside the Mantis system, exited stardrive very briefly in its vicinity, then almost immediately ripped another hole into the vac and departed. Fleetcom calculated that the activity would not be detectable from the Mantis system because the asteroid masked the exit and entry signatures. During its brief presence in normal vac the Spawn had launched the Kiss into the dark. And here we were. Starcom was certainly going to a lot of trouble, for a mission they allegedly did not approve of. I figured there was more to it than that. Our A-suits carried the very latest equipmentfull Q-link commo. I didn’t care. I was getting what I needed.

“Don’t be stupid, Rabies! I’m not taking that!” Viper, our hot-tempered female, seemed a bit upset.

“I just thought ” Rabies was concealing something in his palm.

“Stop thinking! You just keep it! Nothing’s going to happen, do you hear me? Nothing!” Rabies did not reply. He put the item away. I knew instantly what this was. Rabies thought he wasn’t going to make it. He had tried to give something to Viper, something she would pass on to his parents, or his girl, in the event of his death. And she wouldn’t do itbecause it was bad luck. I was enraged. Why the hell couldn’t they keep their chatter on private? Stupid kids! Damn it! I didn’t need this! I had enough death tattoos already; I didn’t need any more. Coolhand, Warhound, Ironman, Boudicca, Sassin, Millina, Flash their faces flickered before me. How many more, Deadman, how many more? I didn’t want to get to know these kids; I didn’t want to know about their fears and dreams. I wanted them to be strangers to me, serial numbers, ghosts alive, dead, all the same. Legion ghosts, that’s what I needed, a squad of ghosts.

“Right on course, gang,” Redhawk grinned. “No reaction from the O’s. They’re asleep. Nightside coming up.”

Don’t fire unless fired upon, I thought. Deto! We were ready. Ready, ready, ready. We were in top form. There was nothing further to be done until the crash doors popped open. Mantis was gigantic now, one side still blinding us, as bright as a sun, the other edge plunged in an inky black. We were headed for darkside. I checked the image from the Q-link eyemote. Moontouch was still there, inside the hut, busy doing some kitchen work with that big female Daz’ra. Everyone else was asleep. My heart gave me a tug, as it always did when I saw Moontouch’s sacred image. Atmospherics showed a storm front approaching the ZA. Raingood. That was good. All was well. I was calm and serene. I closed my eyes.

“Dragon, Thinker,” I said. “I’m taking five. Wake me if anything happens.”

“Tenners,” Dragon replied. I knew what I was doing. The squad had already heard I was a psychotic killer, they knew I’d killed an Orman in cold blood, they knew I had disobeyed orders and went on to rescue a Legion squad, and served time in a stockade for it, and now I was giving them a new storyI had icewater in my veins. I knew what they’d say. He dozed off, man! We were on our way into the shit, entering the at, and he took a little nap on the way down! I didn’t mind. Fear and respectthat’s what a mission commander needed.

The Phantom started lurching as we entered the atmosphere. I was tired, I really did need a little rest. Just a few z’s .I faded into a warm mist touching my skin. Raining, a light rain. Noa heavy, heavy rain. A sudden Galgos tropical downpour. Tara and I sought shelter in a deserted toolshed. The dark forest around us was cringing under the watery hail, the road was a river and the torrent was battering at the metal roof. It put a warm thrill to my skin.

“Let it rain all night,” I said. “I love this stuff.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic, Wester,” Tara replied. “I’ve got to get back. I’ve got things to do.” She was a lot younger thenwe were both a lot younger.

“You’re not going anywhere in this downpour. You could drown out there.”

“Am I safer with you?” A faint smile, looking out at the rainy haze.

“Well maybe not.”

“I guess I can handle you. Did I tell you I have a black badge in contact?”

“No. You didn’t.”

“How’re your lessons going?” she asked.

“Good. I love them. It’s a total work-out. I feel really good when it’s over.”

“Kind of like getting beat up? Let me know if you need any tips.”

“Will you stop that, Tara? Why do you always have to be one-up on everybody?”

“It’s only the truth, Wester. Why did you choose contact? I thought you didn’t like sports.”

“I don’t. Sports don’t interest me. But contact does.”

“Well, it could come in handy if we keep on, um, associating. I’ll admit I can be a pain at times, Wester. Why do you keep hanging around me?”

“Gee, I don’t know. I’m hoping you’ll break down some day and show me that birthmark.”

“Oh, did you believe that? You believe everything I say, don’t you?”

“No. I don’t. Are you coming with me to the Graduation Ball?”

“It’s hard to believe you’re graduating. It seems like we met just yesterday.”

“That’s kind of an indirect answer. I really want you to come with me, Tara.”

“Do you think we look good together?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Of course I’ll come, Wester. I’m flattered you asked me. I’m so weird that people have actually thrown stones at me. You’re not afraid to take me to the ball?”

“Well, I’ll keep an eye out for stones. Lookthe rain is letting up.” The rain had slowed to a staccato drum-beat of heavy drops, pelting the leaves.

“I told you I’m a virgin,” Tara said. “I wasn’t kidding about that.” Her hand found mine and squeezed. “Do you ever think about the future, Wester?”

“I try not to. I’m focused on the present.”

“Do you think we have a future? You and me, I mean.”

“Well, I sure hope so.” I looked into those smoky, exotic eyes. I could see nothing in thereonly mystery. “I told you how I feel about you, Tara. You laughed.”

“It was just a defensive mechanism, Wester. I’m sorry if I offended you. I think about the future all the time. It’s a cruel future. It’s a cruel galaxy. We have to tame it. ConFree has to tame it. And we all have to help.”

“Do we have to do that right now?” I put my arms around her.

“I’m a woman,” she said. “Kiss me.”

We lost ourselves in a hot, wet kiss, until the night was spinning softly all around us. Finally a growing thunder rumbled through the forest and the trees shuddered.

“A launch,” I said. “Come on.” We rushed out into a dripping rain. There was a fierce glow past the trees and a piercing shriek as a shuttle rose majestically into the dark sky.

“The clouds are clearing,” Tara said. She pointed skywards. As we watched, the lights began to appear, just a few at first, then more of them, burning brighter as the clouds fled. Soon the starry night sky was full of navlights all lit up like red and green stars, fleets of starshipstransports and star carriers, personal yachts and Fleetcom cruisers, hurtling around Galgos 4 in orbit. Another deep roar sounded from the starport, another brilliant glow rose behind the trees.

“That’s the power and glory,” Tara said. “That’s ConFree. It’s our heritage. The Zone is the crossroads of galactic trade. Look at all those ships. Don’t ever forget you’re a Zonie, Wester. A hundred years from now, we’ll still remember this.”

“A hundred years from now, we’ll be dead.”

“No, we won’t! I’m going to be immortal. Won’t you? I’ll be in the Legion. I’m going to be a citizen. Are you going to stay down here in the mud?”

“It’s not so bad down here, Tara.”

“I’d be so disappointed in you if you did that, Wester. So disappointed.”

“Why don’t you just shut down and give me another kiss?”

“Did I tell you I have a little daughter?”

“Did that happen before or after you were a virgin?”

“Wester! Why do you have to be so damned literal? She’s not really my daughter. She kind of adopted me. I mean, I adopted her. She’s a little Galgie girl.”

“How do your parents feel about that?”

“They don’t know. You know I lead a double life, Wester.”

“I’m tired of hearing about that, Tara.”

“Oh! Now you’re angry again. Just because you don’t understand. Well, one of these days you’ll understand, Wester. One of these days, you’ll see.”

“I sure hope so.”

“Thinker. We’re nearing the target.” It was Dragon, on private. My eyes popped open and the memory vanished just like a mist. I hadn’t forgotten a thingDeadman, what a miracle. She had left me only a few weeks later. She hadn’t even said goodbye. It was black outside the armored plexsmoky clouds whipped past. The leading edges of the Phantom’s wings glowed a pale orange as we hurtled into the dark. What the hell am I doing dreaming about Tara? I’ve got more important things to do!

“Helmets on,” I said. “Tac mode. Systems check. Weapons check.” I locked my helmet into place and the interior lit up with a pale green glow, tacmap and biostats and all the rest of it, burnt right into my faceplate. The eyemote showed Moontouch was settling into her bed. The interior of the hut was dark except for a faint glow from the embers of the fireplace.

“Systems all green. Weapons all green,” Dragon reported.

“Count off!” I snapped.

“Dragon!”

“Sweats!”

“Deadeye here, Slayer.”

“Stormdawn is here.”

“Tourist.”

“Jo-Jo!”

“Rabies.”

“Viper.”

“D.D.‘s here.”

“Redhawk.”

“All right, gang,” I said. “Good news. It’s going to be raining when we hit the target. There’s lots of lightning hits, toothat’s excellent cover for us. We go exactly as planned. No firing unless fired upon. Take out the doors with v-max. The Kiss will insert elements A, B , C and D at targets A, B, C and D respectively, then evac D, C, B and A in that order. If she’s forced to break off at any time to suppress enemy fire she’ll do so, and we’ll wait at our targets for evac. All element leaders have Q-link eyemotes on their targets and as of right now, all targets are happily in place except for two Outworlder females, what’s the story, Dragon?”

“They’re both returning to the hut right now. They had gone out to wee. They should be in place when we arrive.”

“Well, I hope the rain isn’t going to make anyone else get up and visit the outhouses. Keep me informed.”

“It’s always something you can never plan for.”

“Rain is good. Don’t complain.”

“There’s a lot of activity around the hive.”

“Yeah, I know. What are they doing?”

“Don’t know. Transporting stuff on air effects sleds. But they don’t seem interested in our target area.”

“Good!” I didn’t care what they were up to, as long as they weren’t paying attention to our targets.

“Element A! Prep for decar.” I stood by the crash door, clad in battle-scarred black cenite armor, bristling with weaponry and sensors, deep ruby red faceplate reflecting only death, cool green reflections etched into the interior mils from my eyes, tacmap, sitrep, biostats, eyemotes, all well, all well The Phantom was shuddering, all black outside, inky rain streaking the plex horizontally, all adrenalin now, icy calm, my jaws locked, helmet shaking, can’t even see the eyemote now but I know she’s there, all I am, all I exist for, don’t get in my way now or you die fast, now, now, now

“Element A! Decar!” The crash door popped open and I leaped out blindly into a fierce gust of heavy rain and swirling wind.

“Death!” I charged forward blindly over spongy turf towards the little hut dug into the hillside as Sweety outlined the door on my faceplate, bless her. Deadeye and Stormdawn were right behind me but I wasn’t thinking about them. I fired auto v-max and blew the heavy door right into the hut. The Phantom’s backblast generated a tornado of rain and mud as it glided away to Site B. The countdown was underway02 fracs and I was already in the hut, standing on the splintered wreckage of the door like some armored nightmare from the bowels of Hell, every life form in the hut outlined in red on my faceplate, seven huge Daz’ras caught in bed, still stunned, and one figure flashing green, smaller, much smaller, also in bedbless you, Sweety! I reached out for her with my left hand and she shrank back from the horrific vision. Deadyeye and Stormdawn burst into the hut behind me, two more obscene war-beasts, come to slaughter you all.

“Moontouch! It’s Slayer! We are here! Come with me, now! Quickly!” Sweety amplified my voice to a booming command.

“I am here, my Queen! I did not abandon you!” Deadeye shouted.

“Mommy! Mommy! I love you! You are safe now! Come with us!” Stormdawn urged her.

She rose from the bed slowly, as if in a trance, as if in a dream, reaching a slim arm out to mehesitating, for an instant, as if she did not quite believe it. I gently pulled her to me with my free arm, taking in her unearthly beauty again, falling right into those dark hypnotic eyes, together again, on the edge of the galaxy, never again to be separated, never, never, never!

“I knew you would come,” she whispered. Only that. It was enough. I turned to the doorway. One of those giant Daz’ra stood there, blocking our way, and I knew he had no intention of moving. I raised my E and pointed it right at his head. Moontouch leaped from my arms towards the Daz’ra and whirled around, throwing up her arms to shield him.

“No, Slayer! They are protecting me! I owe them my life!” She turned and gently touched the creature on his hairy chest with her slim fingers, urging him to stand aside. He did. That big female Daz’ra came out of nowhere and hugged Moontouch. She hugged back. I dragged Moontouch towards the doorway. Stormdawn and Deadeye and I squatted there, facing the storm, with Moontouch protected by our armor. The rain was still pouring down, churning up a sea of mud. I had Moontouch by one hand and wasn’t about to let go. Countdown was O2/05, two marks and five fracsnot bad! All we had to do now was wait in the doorway for evac. I didn’t want to interfere as I knew everyone was busy but I had not been concentrating on the tacnet and needed to know what was happening.

“Dragon, Thinker, report!”

“Thinker, Dragon, we’re on target, collecting our sheep. Five outworlders, seven Taka, all here.” Dragon and Rabies were at Site B, consisting of two huts. Good!

“Element C entering Target,” Sweats reported. I could hear the vac as he blew away the door. Sweats and Viper were targeting three Outworlders and eight Taka in two other huts.

“Element D! Prep for decar!” Redhawk ordered. Tourist, Jo-Jo and Doctor Doom would be rounding up twelve Taka from that stone longhouse. 02/48 and counting! The sky flashed white and a jarring boom shook us.

“Lightning,” Sweety explained.

“Slayer!” Moontouch exclaimed. “You must save the othersmy people, and your people! They are all around us!”

“A second launch, Thinker,” Sweety cut in. “The O’s are launching a transport, Variant 5, from their starport.” I could hear a deep rumble in the distance.

“We’re on it, Moontouch,” I replied. “We’re collecting them, right now. Don’t worry.”

“Twenty-eight Taka, Slayer, and eight of your people.”

“Attention all!” Sweety’s calm voice interrupted abruptly. “Two armored Omnis on foot, exiting the hive, now turning to face the Daz’ra target area.” They appeared on my tacmap, two flashing red dots. “Mag shields not activated, Vulcans on safe,” Sweety added. A blinding lightning hit cracked the sky open like a strobe light, illuminating a sky full of frozen rain. I raised my E to my shoulder.

“Redhawk, Thinker. Two O’s approaching from the hive, A&A. Prep to fire but do not fire unless we are fired upon. All elements acknowledge and report, now!”

“Thinker, B. We’re all set for pickup. We see the targets.” Dragon sounded perfectly calm.

“Thinker, Sweats. We’ve got all our targets and are prepping for pickup.”

“Slayer, there are “

“Not now, Moontouch! Just a “

“Thinker, Tourist. We’re inside the longhouse, collecting the catch. Redhawk is still outside, I can hear him. We’ll be ready in fracs.”

“Have you got all twelve Taka?”

“That’s a ten.”

“Attention all!” Sweety cut in again. “Another Omni ship is launching from the spaceport. That’s three. This is a troop shuttle, appears headed for orbit.”

“Redhawk,” I said, “all right, confirmed we’ve got Moontouch, twenty-seven Taka and eight Outworlders confirmed at the sites, be ready to engage the O’s but pick up the “

“Slayer! There are twenty-eight Taka, not twenty-seven!”

“Twenty-eight including you, Moontouch! Please be quiet! Redhawk, be ready to “

“Attention!” Sweety announced. “Three more Omnis, armored and armed, on foot, approaching from the hive, safeties off! Total of five Omnis.”

“Slayer! There are twenty-nine Taka including me, not twenty-eight! You must save them all or the Undead will “

“Thinker, Redhawk! We’re boarding Site D! Ready in a frac!”

“Be prepared to zap those O’s, Redhawk, but don’t do it unless they fire first! Board everyone soon as you can!”

“Slayer!” Moontouch was scratching at my armor, becoming increasingly frantic. “Do you hear me? There are twenty-nine of us, Slayer, altogether! We must not leave anyone behind!”

“O’s approaching on foot!” Sweety warned. I could see them on the tacmap, awful creatures, force fields not yet up, probably puzzled by all the activity, they could let loose at any instant, what a nightmare! Snow Leopard had prepped me well for this. In the sim, Moontouch became increasingly irrational, demanding we evac all the Taka, all the Outworlders, then all the Daz’ra in her hut, then all the Daz’ra in the vicinity, then all the Daz’ra children. I had vowed to stun her if necessary. What the hell did she mean, twenty-nine? There were a total of twenty-eight!

“Moontouch, we’ve counted carefully. There are twenty-eight of you, including you. Where is this other Taka? We see no one else.”

“Thinker, Countdown is 03/40!” Sweety reminded me. Deto! Running out of time!

“He is with the Undead, in their home, over there.” She pointed calmly at the O hive, a misty silver, barely visible through the driving rain. “It is Love’s Child, a beautiful little boy of ten summers, and I will not face his parents if we leave him behind. If you leave him behind, you leave me behind, Slayer!”

“Fire psybloc, deceptors and smoke,” I ordered. “Give us some cover.” The psybloc erupted all over the field between the O’s and us, flashing and popping. It would protect us from their psych projections and give them a blinding headache too. The deceptors screeched wildly, shooting all over the field. The smoke rounds burst in gigantic fluorescent multicolored clouds, screwing everything up beautifully even in that heavy rain and wind. We were going to be hard to spot. I almost hoped it would goad them into firing. That way we’d be able to blast them to bits.

“Omnis have ceased advancing, Thinker, mag fields now going up, no psych projections yet.” Sweety reported. Her sensors were better than minethe deceptors hid us from them, but hid them from us as well.

“Thinker, Redhawk. D has boarded. We’re now boarding C.”

“Thinker, countdown is 04/12.”

“Redhawk, prep for a hostile air attack,” I said. “They’ve got to know we’re here. Crash load! Fast as you can!” I was stalling for time, something we didn’t have. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew it would all be up to meand me alone.

“Countdown 04/37.”

“Thinker, Redhawk. C’s boarded. All right, crash load! Get ‘em on board, Dragon, now now now! Boarding Site B, tenners, yeee-ow! B has boarded, confirm, tenners, boarding A, where the hell are you, Thinker?” We burst out of the doorway into a strong gust of almost horizontal rain, a rising mud storm swirling all around us as the Kiss winked in and out of visibility, balanced on air, splattering us with debris. The crash door was wide open and I picked up Moontouch bodily and tossed her inDragon caught her and threw her into a tangled mass of bodies like a sack of grain. Rabies and Jo-Jo grabbed Deadeye and Stormdawn and hauled them in like fish. Somebody else yanked me in when I jumped, I don’t know who. The crash door slammed shut. The interior was jammed with a squirming mass of bodies, female Takas and Outworlders, half of them on top of the other half, screaming and crying with shock and joy and relief and terror.

“Countdown 04/48!” Two fracs to go and this place will be history!

“Redhawk!” I shouted. “Cancel launch! Your new target is the hive! Get over there right now, the far side, main entrance, hover right in front of it and prep to blow it all to hell but hold your fire.”

“What the hell, over?”

“You heard me! Do itnow!”

“Countdown 05/00! Recommend immediate evac.” Perfect, I thought. We’re all going to die.

We ripped right over the smoke and psybloc and deceptors and the five armored O’s and cut our way through that wild rain as more lightning lanced down to illuminate the horizon. Redhawk brought the Phantom down gently to hover just like a gigantic, invisible bat, a few marks above the muddy turf, roaring like a volcano, the earth and the hive vibrating like an earthquake, the Kiss unleashing a tornado of swirling mud and rain and dirt. All the power of the Legion was focused on that great, crystal silvery hiveevery shining facet was humming with our coiled, awful, elemental, fatal power, the power of a star, just instants, just fracs away, just one finger’s gentle touch and it would vanish in microfracs, antimat annihilation, a blinding flash and all your worries were over, forever.

“I’m going in, Redhawk,” I said, popping the crash door open and leaping out to land in a splash in a flooded field of mud. It was still raining, but it seemed to be letting up a bit. “If the O’s fire, just blow the whole hive away and don’t stop until everyone is dead.” I felt as calm as if I was in a dream. None of it seemed real to me. Weak lights from the hive lit up the main entrance. The area outside the entrance was littered with trash and debrisall sorts of discarded equipment and containers, empty and full. An air effects sled shot away from the building, only half full of what looked like dropboxes, pursued by a couple of O’s on foot who were paying no attention to me or to the invisible tornado that was ripping up their front lawn.

“Thinker, Dragon. Moontouch is going crazy. She wants to join you. What the hell are you up to?”

“Let her go, Dragon. If we die, you’re in charge. Zap the hive, then get topside fast as you can.”

“Countdown has concluded! Counting up 05/11. Alert! Alert! Recommend immediate evac topsides.”

“Slayer! I am here.” Moontouch stood by my side, soaked through, her thin garments clinging to her, long hair plastered to her face and neck, bravely facing the hive. Her head was held high, and her eyes were blazing. A queen, I thought, a true queen for her people. Deadeye and Stormdawn were suddenly there too, guns up, Legion armor and Taka death paint. Good lordof course! What the hell did I expect, that I would die alone? The whole family was here! Two giant Omnis ran from the entrance, ignoring us, hauling some bizarre equipment.

“Attention! Another Omni ship is launching from the port, headed topside.”

“Thinker, Redhawk. Any idea what’s going on?”

“Yes. We’re going after Taka number twenty-nine,” I replied.

“What do we do, Slayer?” Deadeye asked.

“Follow me,” I said. We walked stiffly towards the giant doorway, E’s pointed ahead of us, safeties off.

Chapter 18

The Monkey

When we actually entered the hive, it all suddenly became real to meit wasn’t a dream any more. We found ourselves in a giant hall with a high ceiling lost somewhere overhead, those crystal exterior walls glowing a soft pale white, facing a shiny gem-hard black cliff of an interior wall lined with tall, vertical openings about twice the height of a man. The floor was a pale pink stone, generating its own light. Off to one side, an airy waterfall crashed down from the heights, thundering into a dark pool, generating a misty cloud that drifted over a grove of dark leathery trees. A giant Omni popped out of one of the doors in the black wall, not even in armor.

“Omni! Unarmored, unarmed, shields down, no psyprobe.” Sweety reported, but I didn’t need it. Adrenalin flooded my veins as I swung the E over to target the O. It ignored us, scampering over the slick floor awkwardly, its limbs bending in all the wrong places, hustling over to the main entrance and out into the dark. What the hell were we doing here, I asked myself. This is insane. We’re going to die here. Fleetcom is going to attack in instants and we’re all going up in atoms. Why haven’t they attacked yet?

“Where do we go, Slayer?” Deadeye asked. Good question. I had no plan, I was just doing what had to be done before we died, improvising as I went, walking through the gates of Purgatory with no map. There were maybe fifteen of those doorways, they evidently led into the interior of the hive, and I had no idea which one to take.

“Attention! Countdown has concluded. Counting up 05/38. Recommend immediate evac topside. Fleetcom attack is overdue.”

“Sweety? What do you see? Lifeforms, please.” I asked.

“Thinker, Dragon. Sitrep, please.”

“Nothing to report!” I snarled.

“I cannot see within the hive, Thinker,” Sweety said. “The walls are evidently honeycombed with deceptors. Please see the tacmap. As you see, it is very general in nature.” The tacmap was trashalmost worthless!

“Eyemotes! Give me some eyemotes. Now!”

“Thinker, you will remember that the eyemotes cannot enter the hive either. They are filtered out in the entry hall.”

“Thinker, Dragon. You need any help?”

Moontouch had drifted away, wandering casually through the hall, close to that evil black wall. The glowing pink floor was littered with unidentifiable debrisstuff that clearly did not belong there. Something had definitely gone wrong with the O’s neat little base on Mantis.

“Give us a few more fracs, Dragon,” I said. “We’re not quite through.” Why should they die with us? All those innocent captivesI should tell Dragon to leave us.

Moontouch paused by one doorway, raised her hand briefly, and stepped in.

We walked down a gently sloping corridor on softly glowing pale pink stone, between two sinister walls of shiny black marbled material under a dead dark ceiling. It led us down into the netherworld, far below the hive, and there was a light frost glistening on the walls. It was cold. Moontouch shivered and clutched her thin garments tighter around her but continued marching forward without a single backward glance, walking right into Hell, all alone or leading a squad of avenging angels, it made no difference to her. She knew exactly where she was going. It was dark except for that soft pink glow from the floor. Deadeye and Storm and I hustled to catch up.

“Thinker, Dragon. Sitrep, please!”

“Get out, Dragon!” I said. “Take your folks and get out! There’s no need for them to die. Come back for us if you can. I’m not sure if we’re coming back.”

“We’ll be right here, Thinker! Move it!”

“Get out, Dragon! That’s an order!”

“Sorry, you’re breaking up. I can’t read you.” Damn it! Hopeless! Did I really think Dragon would leave us? Scut, he’ll probably send in an extraction team!

The corridor opened into a circular hall, faintly lit from above by a ceiling that glowed green. As Sweety adjusted my faceplate I saw a wondrous green sky, shot through with drifting silvery clouds. The O’s home planet! I had seen this green sky before, in the Mound, on Uldo.

The hall was built around a mysterious greasy dark mechanism in the center, and it was ringed with a circular structure that could have been a table or counter, and circular rows of what looked like benches with built-in high-backed support structuresprobably chairs for the O’s. I had seen similar structures in an O starship, at a particularly bleak point in my short but eventful life.

Moontouch made her way to the weird metallic object set in the center of the main table. Deadeye and Storm and I covered her, scanning the hall carefully with our E’s. We couldn’t see anything that looked dangerous.

“Report, Sweety.”

“Heavy deceptors, Thinker. I detect no life.”

No life. It was hopeless. A lost cause. As I gazed at the black, filthy object in the center of the hall, it slowly dawned on me what it was that I was looking at. It squatted over a black pit, and the pit and the structure and the table were splattered with congealed grease. A black metal grill, covered with sticky burnt debris, lay over the pit. Bits of burnt flesh and scorched bones were scattered over the table. A very faint orange glow flickered deep within the pit.

“It is a feasting chamber, Thinker,” Sweety answered my unasked question. “The Omni barbecue their victims here, and consume their flesh. I detect many bonesand two skullsin the pit.”

A tingling wave of horror crept through my veins. Deadman, I pray for all those hopeless souls who died here, victims of the O’s. Grant them eternal peace and happiness.

Moontouch had wandered over to another dark mechanism off to one side that appeared to be connected to the first. It resembled a great rectangular coffin of black metal, sealed shut. Moontouch stood by it, gently touched it with one hand and then, for the first time, turned and looked at us.

I found what looked like a locking mechanism and lasered it open. The whole top slid away, revealing a pool of sticky, inky liquid. Floating in the pool on her back was an angelic young Outworlder girl, blonde hair soaked in black grease, icy white skin, filmy blue eyes staring into infinity. She was naked, and clearly dead. Then the whole world started to go black, and all I could see was that holy corpse, tunnel vision, the dead girl and nothing else. I could feel the lava, moving in my veins. I reached out one hand and traced the Legion cross over her face. We hadn’t even known about her. How many other Outworlder and Taka had they taken?

The pool of greasy ink moved. Something slithered along past the girl’s feet. It surfaced and I was about to blast it but I hesitated. It looked just like a little monkey, soaked in filthy black grease, blinking big eyes. A little boya Taka boy. He reached out his arms to Moontouch and she snatched him up eagerly and crushed him to her bosom.

“We can leave now,” she whispered.

We ran back up that corridor to Hell, back towards Salvation, guns up, adrenaline surging, Deadeye and Storm and I in the lead, Moontouch following with the kid clinging to her. Just as we reached the great hall Sweety sounded off.

“Attention! Omni approaching, A&A, mag fields up, psypobes active, Vulcan scanning, safeties off, I am countering with psybloc, recommend ” I didn’t need her recommendations and I didn’t give a damn for our orders either, not any more, one stinking O between us and salvation, between life and death for us all, my whole family, everyone I loved, Moontouch, Storm, Deadeye, Priestess and Millie, Lester and Andrea, my squad, all those poor Outworlders and Taka and the Ghost Legion, all those dead Legionnaires who had gone before us, for just this one moment. As the O appeared before me the sight gave me a terrific jolt of adrenalin and terror and my finger tightened on the trigger. The O was a horrific vision, its armor all blurred behind the pulsing electric violet haze of its mag shield, the faintly burning tip of the Vulcan moving my way, pointing right at me, the O’s split armored head moving, taking us in, I knew we had only fracs to live, Don’t fire unless fired upon, don’t fire an insane chant. I fired canister auto xmax and Storm fired too and Deadeye fired too. The O erupted, an awful electronic shrieking and popping as the canister darts ripped into its force field with a terrifying buzz, taking it down almost instantly, and auto xmax exploded all over its armor, blinding deafening explosions, spraying cenite shrapnel, green blood and alien flesh all over the hall, the twisted remnants of the O spinning in dizzying circles on the floor, blasted armor smoking and glowing white-hot. It hadn’t even had a chance to fire its Vulcan. I gave it a burst of laser just to be sure.

“Deto! I was just about to blast it when you fired.” It was Dragon, suddenly there, lowering his E. “Are you ready to leave yet? My passengers are getting downright cranky.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” I said. “You’re going to get court-martialed for disobeying orders.”

“So are you!”

Chapter 19

Reckless Disregard

“We did it, Thinker! We did it!” Dragon ripped his helmet off and gave me a wild grin. He was sweating but clearly overjoyed. We were all crammed into the Kiss, all twenty-nine Taka, eight Outworlder evacuees and eleven squadies. It was so crowded we could barely move but I loved it. We were on max power, bursting free of Mantis’s grav and leaping for the vac. Moontouch was in my arms and that little monkey kid was in hers, still covered with glistening black cooking oil, clinging to her desperately. Salvation!

“You crazy bastard,” Redhawk called out from the cockpit. “The O’s had us in their sights the whole time you were in there! The laser rangefinders were screeching all over our sensors! They never did fire and I sure don’t know why!”

“What happened to the Legion attack?” I asked.

“It never happened!” Redhawk replied. “Who the hell knows why? Take a look at the O fleet!”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! May Deadman bless you all!” A young Outworlder girl kissed me tenderly right on the forehead.

I craned my neck to get a look at the tacscreen. When I had last seen it, the planet was ringed with a huge fleet of O ships. Now the dusty red spots were much fewerwhere were they? Where were all the O ships?

“What happened, Redhawk? What happened to all their ships? Did the Legion attack?”

“That’s a twelve, Thinker. There was no attack. H-hour came and went and we were floating there sweating bullets in front of that Omni hive. Nothing happened. But, as you can see, the O fleet is evacingthey’re fleeing. They were launching all their downside ships while we were waiting for you to quit screwing around. I’ve no idea why.” Even as I watched, more O ships were ripping holes in the vac, initiating stardrive.

“They must have been alerted to our attack!”

“But there was no attack! If there had been, we’d all be dead, man!”

“But they’re getting away! The whole fleet! The whole idea was to catch them napping! We were going to annihilate the whole fleet!”

“Well, I guess it didn’t work!” Redhawk said.

“It’s crazy! This was our one chanceto get the whole fleet! What the hell is Fleetcom doing?”

“Count your blessings, Three. We’re all alive, and on our way to the rendezvous point.”

“But we should contact Fleetcomfind out what happened!”

“We’re on comdown. We can’t contact anybody until we get to the rendezvous.”

I turned to Moontouch. She gave me an angelic smile, and raised a hand to touch my cheek, then rested her head against mine, blinking dark eyes. Her silken dark hair was like butterfly wings, tickling my flesh. She said not a word, and I understood. Deadeye and Stormdawn were gazing at her in adoration. Victory! Never had it tasted better, this, my personal victory against the entire rest of the universe. The Gods were with us. Why should I worry about the Legion attack?

” and that’s it,” I said. “Mission accomplished. I wish I could have brought the girl’s body back, but well, I didn’t.” Dragon and I were doing the mission debrief before Snow Leopard, in a little alcove off Recon Control on the Spawn. Dragon and I were still in our armor, helmets off. Our A-suits reeked of burning metal.

“You did well,” Snow Leopard responded. He was in camfax fatigues, his pale face strained and tired, his hot pink eyes rivetted on us both. He seemed tired. “Good initiative, Thinker. I saw the whole thing on tac review. It was audacious, but it worked that’s what counts. Dragon, I’m proud of you. You always do the right thing, no matter what the damned orders are. I’m proud of both of you.” Snow Leopard had reason to admire Dragon’s tendency to ignore his orders. Dragon had saved Snow Leopard’s life on Uldo but had to disobey Snow Leopard’s direct orders to do it.

“What the hell happened, Snow Leopard?” I asked. “What happened to the attack?” I was ready to drop. I squirmed in the airchair and my armor ripped out a chunk of padding from the armrest. I stared at it stupidly.

“Cancelled,” he replied. “At the last moment. I was kind of expecting it.”

“Cancelled! Why? Was it us? Did they suspect an attack?”

“No. It wasn’t you. That had nothing to do with it. Starcom ordered the attack called off when you were already on the way to the target in your Phantom.”

“But why? This was our perfect chance to finish off their fleet, wasn’t it? We must have spent billions just launching the mission. What in Deadman’s name made Starcom call it off?”

“Stupidity,” Dragon interjected. “What else could it be?”

Snow Leopard gazed off into the distance, his eyes unfocused. For a moment I thought he hadn’t heard me, then he replied. “Have you ever heard of genetic migration?”

“Genetic migration.” I pondered the phrase. “No.”

“Well, it’s not surprising. We’ve been learning a lot about the O’s lately. That O prisoner you captured for us on Andrion helped our lifies out quite a bit. Genetic migration is something that is imprinted into the Omni’s biological life cycle. It’s hardwired right into their brains. It’s not an individual event, it’s a racial event. We don’t know what triggers it, but it seems to have something to do with events that affect the Omni drive to expand their territory and influence. When these racial efforts are severely countered, this genetic migration is triggered. It’s a biological event that is evidently formalized by the Omni leadership when it occurs.”

“What does that have to do with why we didn’t attack?”

“This has happened before, at least once that we know of. After ConFree smashed their fleets during the Plague War, the O’s pulled back from their onslaught against us, and disappeared, for some eighty stellar years. It now seems likely that our successful defense of the Outvac back then triggered this migration instinct.”

“Where do they go?”

“We don’t know. They just disappear. Do you know what’s been happening while we were prepping the attack on Mantis?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“The O’s were pulling out of every world they had occupied. Every ConFree world, every System world, every world we know about where they have a presence. They’ve pulled out of Mongera already. And they’re leaving Mantis right now. That’s what all the activity was that you noticed during the raid. All those starships taking off, all that rushing around at the starport.”

“We were kind of wondering about that,” Dragon said.

“I see,” I said. “Well, it’s rational, isn’t it? We whipped their asses in Andrion Deep. So they’re pulling out.”

“It’s not rational,” Snow Leopard said. “It’s a lot deeper than that. It may have been triggered by the battle of Andrion Deep, but we can’t know that for sure. Our lifies tell us there are very complex genetic strands that evidently trigger instinctive racial memories and biological survival instincts. These genes are intertwined with their reproductive drives. We believe that when they migrate, they return home to some ancient racial hive where they raise another generation. And, after considerable time, they reappear again in our portion of the galaxy and resume their activities.”

“So what?” I asked. “That’s no reason to call off our attack! Let the bastards return with half their star fleet missing. What, we’re going to give them a break because they’re pulling out? You just admitted they’d be back. This was our chance to break their back, and Fleetcom calls it off? We won’t get another chance like this. Two billion dead, and we call off the attack? No, I don’t get it, I do not get it, at all.” Two billion ghosts, I thought, crying out for revenge.

“The decision was made at the last moment,” Snow Leopard said calmly, “after intense debate. But there was more to it than what I’ve told you. A lot more. I don’t have the details. I’m not even sure what it was, but we’ll all be briefed on it soon enough. I’ll tell you this, your buddy Tara made a strong argument to call off the attack. I don’t know what she said, but I’ve been told it was decisive.”

“Tara,” I said. “I swear, I think she’s losing it. She’s been doing a lot of strange things lately.”

“Like approving your raid?” Snow Leopard asked me.

“All right, good point. But calling off the attack? Deadman! It’s crazy. It’s like willing our problems to the next generation. Here, here’s the O’s. We didn’t have the guts to kill them when we had the chance, so it’s up to you, kids, good luck.”

“Sure,” Dragon said. “What the hell else is new? Our parents did it to us. Now it’s our turn. Why should we be any different?”

“Let’s wait for the full story,” Snow Leopard said. “We don’t know what it is yet.”

“The full story is we let the O’s get away,” Dragon said. “That’s the full story.”

“The people of the Confederation of Free Worlds, through their instrument, the ConFree Legion, accuse ConFree Legion Commander Thinker, serial number 34673002, of violating Standing Order Number One, by deliberately disobeying a direct order in time of war, in combat conditions, in reckless disregard of the mission, thus endangering and jeopardizing all around him. This general court-martial is now in session, under the Legion Code of Military Justice, convened as a field court before special military commission, # 38 of 329/04/43, on board the C.S. Atom’s Road, Captain Zim Tana-Tan presiding. Your designation?” the captain asked me. I stood ramrod straight in my blacks, illuminated harshly by the overhead light. Four Legion officers and the Fleetcom captain sat before me at a metal table littered with d-screens and datacards. The makeshift courtroom had evidently been a storeroom. Piles of portable tables were stacked almost ceiling high off to one side, filling half the room. The proceedings were being immortalized by the vidmons slapped up on the ceiling. Justice was swift in the Legion. We were in stardrive, on our way back to the Outvac, but I was likely to be in irons before the voyage was concluded.

“Sir, Commander Thinker, serial 34673002, reporting as ordered,” I replied to the captain. The facts were seldom in dispute in a Legion courtroom. Everything we did in combat was recorded, and anyone who attempted a lie would find himself facing a brainscan. Truth wasn’t the problem. Justice was the problem.

“Commander Thinker,” the captain said. “The penalty for violating Standing Order Number One can include execution, expulsion from the Legion under a dishonorable discharge, permanent banishment from ConFree, periods of hard labor up to two years, and other penalties. Are you aware of the seriousness of these charges?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Let’s hear from the people.”

One of the officers on the panel stirred. He was a pale young Outworlder, thin sandy hair, clad in his blacks with no insignia except for the combat cross. There were no lawyers in the roomConFree didn’t believe in lawyers, but they did believe in justice. These folks all wore the combat cross. That was their only identificationthey didn’t even wear rank insignia. They were my peers, and they were going to judge me.

“Commander Thinker,” he intoned softly, not even looking at me. “I’ve been looking over your records. This isn’t the first time you’ve been accused of reckless D, is it?”

“No sir.”

“According to what it says here, in 318 CGS you were sentenced to two years hard labor for violating Standing Order Number One, in time of war. You refused a direct order to return your starship and its highly classified cargo to the Crista Cluster, in full knowledge that your cargo was vital to the continued survival of our civilization. Is that accurate?”

“Yes sir.”

He gazed at me with a faint smile. “My! It seems you have a history of not obeying orders. One might even say it’s becoming a trend.”

I did not reply. He looked back at his d-screen.

“Were you the officer in charge of a ConFree rescue mission mounted on planet Mantis, two days ago?”

“Yes sir.”

“And the orders for the mission included the stipulation that you were not to fire upon any Omni targets unless they first fired at you or your troops? Is that accurate?”

“Yes sir.”

“Did you completely understand those orders?”

“Yes sir.”

“And, during this mission, did you enter an Omni hive and come face to face with an Omni?”

“Yes sir.”

“Did the Omni fire at you or your troops?”

“No sir.”

“Did you fire at the Omni?”

“Yes sir.”

“Thank you, Commander. The people of ConFree are satisfied that the accused is guilty as charged, and we have no further questions.” He went back to his d-screen, seemingly losing interest in me.

“Any further questions from the court?” the captain asked.

One officer raised a finger lazily, and the captain nodded at him. “My colleague,” the officer said, “has done an excellent job in ascertaining the facts.” He smiled pleasantly at the officer who had been questioning me. The new fellow had darker hair and deeply tanned, almost leathery skin. He was an Outworlder too, but looked like an outdoors type. His blacks were unpressed. “It appears clear that Commander Thinker did violate his orders. There is one question that my colleague did not raiseprobably just an oversight, I’m sure. I would be curious to know exactly why Commander Thinker chose to violate his orders. It might help us in the sentencing decision.”

“Please proceed,” the captain intoned.

“Commander Thinker,” the man smiled softly, “why did you decide to violate your orders by firing at the enemy before he fired at you? Please give us your reasons.”

“Yes sir,” I said. “As we approached the main hall from the lower levels Sweetyuh, she’s my Persistwarned me that an Omni was present, armored and armed, mag shields up, Vulcan safety off, psyprobes active. Sweety told me she was projecting psybloc on the target. As I entered the hall, I saw the O and it turned to face me. It raised its Vulcan and I noted flame was flickering from the barrel. I raised my E to target it and I noted the O moved the barrel of the Vulcan to point directly at me. I also noted that the O’s head moved slightly as if to focus directly on me. That’s when I fired.” My heart was pounding. Describing the incident brought it all back to me, right there in the courtroom.

“And why did you fire?”

“It appeared clear to me that the O was about to fire and if he did, at that range, we would be instantly annihilated, with no chance to fire back.”

“You still haven’t told me why you fired first.”

“I fired to save my life and that of my companions.”

“And who were they?”

“Two Legion Taka auxiliaries, Deadeye Standfast and Stormdawn, and two Taka we had just liberated from the O’sa female, Moontouch, and a Taka child named Love’s Child.”

“I see. According to the record, you altered the ops plan at the last moment to enter the hive. Why did you do that?”

“We had to rescue the child. He was in the hive, and Moontouch wouldn’t leave without him. We hadn’t known about him when we planned the op. I made the decision to go in.”

“So. You entered the hive, leaving your Phantomand all the other prisoners you had rescued, including several ConFree nationalsto await your return, should that ever happen. They were unlikely to survive the planned Fleetcom attack, which was by then overdue. Was that responsible? Didn’t that bother you?”

“Yes sir, it did. At first I was hopeful we could extract the child quickly, but when it became clear that it might be a lengthy process I ordered the Phantom to leave in order to save the passengers, and to return for us should it prove possible to do so.”

“And yet it didn’t leave, did it?”

“No sir.”

“Why not?”

“My deputy told me my transmission was breaking up and he couldn’t read me.”

“That would be let’s see trooper Dragon. The record shows your transmission was perfectly clear.” He smiled. “Thank you, Commander. I’m through.”

“Any more questions?” The captain asked. There were none. “Thank you, Commander Thinker,” he said. “You are dismissed. You will be notified of the verdict and sentencing within the hour. In the meantime, please stand by in the corridor outside. You’re needed as a witness in another case.”

I rested my back wearily against the cold bulkhead of the corridor, closing my eyes. I was sweating. I had no idea what the result of the court-martial would be. I tried to tell myself that I didn’t care, that all I could do was tell the truth and let Deadman roll his dice to determine my fate. It was just like the Uldo time drop, I thought. I did the right thing. That’s all I can do. If the Legion decides it’s wrong, there’s nothing for it except to live with the consequences. What will it be? Execution? Banishment? At the very least, a dishonorable discharge, revocation of citizenship and maybe two more years breaking rocks. That’ll teach me. No good deed goes unpunished.

“Commander Thinker? This way please.” A young vachead opened the door to the courtroom and closed it behind me. Dragon was standing at attention in his blacks, right where I had been a few marks before. He looked terrifica soldier’s soldier, glaring into space. I snapped to attention beside him.

“Commander Thinker.” It was the pale young officer with sandy hair. “After you entered the Omni hive on Mantis did you give certain orders to your direct subordinate, trooper Dragon, regarding the presence of the Phantom at the scene?”

“Yes sir,” I replied.

“Did you say and I quote ” he squinted at his d-screen, “Get out, Dragon! Take your folks and get out! There’s no need for them to die.” My adrenalin gave me a surge, just to hear it.

“Yes sir.”

“And when Dragon seemed reluctant to launch, did you subsequently say ” he glanced at the screen again “Get out, Dragon! That’s an order!”

“Yes sir,” I sighed. Why did they even bother asking me to show up? They had the whole story on the official record.

“Trooper Dragon,” our inquisitor continued. “Did you then reply to your superior officer ‘Sorry, you’re breaking up. I can’t read you.’”

“Yes sir,” Dragon said calmly.

“Trooper, the record indicates there were no technical communications problems between Commander Thinker and you. Did you, in fact, have trouble understanding your superior officer’s order to ‘get out.’?”

“No sir.”

“Thank you, trooper. Captain, the people of ConFree are satisfied that the accused is guilty as charged, and we have no further questions.”

“Fine,” the captain said. “Anyone else?”

The officer with the tan and the wrinkled blacks slowly came to life, smiled and spoke. “Once again my esteemed colleague has established the accused’s guilt beyond question. Trooper Dragon deliberately disobeyed a direct order from his commanding officer. That’s kind of surprising because this trooper has an outstanding combat record. I’m very curious why he chose to disregard his CO’s direct order. Trooper Dragon, please enlighten us. Why did you disobey this lawful order?”

“Yes sir. My commanding officer, two Taka auxiliaries and two liberated Taka prisoners were in the hive. I am not a coward. I am a soldier of the Legion. I could not leave my comrades behind.”

“What do you think would have happened if you had left them behind?”

“They would have been killed, and it would have been my fault.”

“And what about the mission? What about your Phantom full of innocents, what about the rest of the squad? Don’t they count?”

“When I was told to leave, I turned command of the squad over to trooper Sweats and ordered him to launch if the Legion began the attack, or if the O’s attacked the Phantom. I then exited the aircar and entered the hive.”

“And what was your intent?”

“I was going to extract my comrades.”

“I see. And did you witness an Omni, A&A, shielded, with Vulcan scanning and psyprobes active?”

“Yes sir.”

“What did you do?”

“I was about to fire, when Thinker beat me to it.”

“I see. So, to sum up, you disobeyed this lawful order because you thought obeying it would result in the death of your comrades?”

“Yes sir. That’s it.”

“Thank you, trooper. That’s all for me, Captain.”

“Dragon, Thinker, you are both dismissed,” the captain said. “Dragon, you will be notified within the hour of the court’s decision.”

“That was fun,” Dragon said without enthusiasm, falling into an airchair. We were in a medium-sized cube in the VIP passenger quarters. Moontouch and the kid and several of the Taka females we rescued were crowded in there. I was spending all my spare time with Moontouch, except for the occasional court-martial.

“It doesn’t matter, Dragon,” I said. “We’ve got time for a couple of dox before we’re executed.” Moontouch popped opened a dox and passed it to Dragon. We were gathered around a little table. Moontouch was snuggled up against me, so close we could have been joined at the hips. I thanked Deadman for returning her to me. My life was complete. What the hell did I care about a court-martial? Kill me, leave me aloneI didn’t care. That little kid, Love’s Child, had his arms around Moontouch, totally content. He looked a lot better than when we found him.

“Slayer!” Deadeye appeared in the doorway, with Stormdawn. They both looked rather distressed, clad in sweaty camfax fatigues and carrying their E’s. And they still wore deathpaint. “What is this about punishment? Are you to be killed, for what you did?”

“Relax, Deadeye,” I said. “We don’t know what’s happening yet. We’re just waiting to find out.”

“Who will do this?” Stormdawn asked. “The Legion?”

“Yes, that’s right. The Legion.” I sipped at my dox, resigned to my fate. The dox was excellent.

“So, you are to be punished, for doing what is right? No!” Deadeye exclaimed. He was deathly pale.

“They will not touch you, Father!” Stormdawn said, snapping the safety off his E. A terrible resolve showed in his eyes.

“You are under the protection of the Taka nation, Slayer,” Deadeye grimly informed me, pointing the barrel of his E to the doorway and activating the laser sights.

“Put those E’s away,” I said. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“We can fight! They will not take you, Father! I pledge it!”

“Fear not, my love,” Moontouch said, “The Gods of the Past are with you.”

“Looks like you’ve got your own strike force, Thinker,” Dragon commented, “in addition to the Gods of the Past. You’d better turn them off before the security folks show up with the verdict and sentence.”

“What the hell is this?” Snow Leopard asked. He stood in the doorway, clad in his blacks, and two glowing red laser dots were crawling lazily over his chest. Deadeye and Stormdawn had their E’s at their shoulders, poised to blast him into eternity.

“Snow Leopard is my friend!” I snapped. “Turn your weapons away from him!” Deadeye and Storm reluctantly ceased targeting Snow Leopard, but continued holding their E’s at the ready, tense and taut, glaring at him.

“I’ve got the verdicts,” Snow Leopard said. “I wanted to tell you myself. Can I do that without getting shot?”

“Have a seat, Snow Leopard, and have some dox,” I said. “You know the Taka sometimes get emotional about things.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, taking a dox from Moontouch. It was steaming and foamy. He sipped at it in delight, then carefully placed it back on the table and looked at Dragon and me in turn. “Not guilty,” he said, “both of you. For the same reason. Seizing the operational initiative in a rapidly changing combat situation, resulting in a favorable tactical outcome. Congratulations.”

“How’s the dox?” I asked. I didn’t give a damn what the Legion decided about my actions. Do the right thing, I thought. That’s all I can do.

“It’s just like working in an insane asylum,” Dragon commented dryly.

“You see?” Moontouch commented. “The Gods of the Past will protect you, my love. You have nothing to fear.”

Chapter 20

Evil Deeds

The main starport terminal at Alpha Station was awash in humanity, overrun by boots and vacheads, a chaotic, noisy mob scene as hundreds of arriving and departing troopers milled around in confusion. The shuttle had just dropped us off but we were soon dispersed among the crowd.

“Where the hell are we?” Dragon asked. “I don’t even recognize the place.”

“They’ve extended the terminal,” I said. “I think this is Terminal 4. We want the main terminal, Terminal 1, for the magtrain to Alpha Station.” Andrion’s Alpha Starport was, at that moment in time, the busiest starport in the galaxy.

“We are home, Slayer!” Deadeye exulted. “Home and victorious!” He looked ecstatic.

“Home, Mother!” Stormdawn called out. “I bless the Gods!” He seized Moontouch and embraced her. His enthusiasm was contagious. I couldn’t stop smiling. I never thought I’d see this day. Ecstatic!

“Thinker!” A girl in black came rushing out of the crowd and leaped right into my arms, almost throwing me off balance.

“Priestess!” I was stunned. Priestess in my arms, a heavenly angel in black, gasping in delight, throwing her arms around my neck and locking lips and not letting go, her slender body wrapped around mine like a boa constrictor. Her feet weren’t even touching the ground.

“Welcome to Andrion 2,” she beamed as she came up for air. “I’m so glad to see you I think I’m going to cry.” She was trembling.

“Priestess. This is wonderful. What are you doing here?”

“I can’t live without you, Thinker! You know that. Moontouch! You did it, Thinker, you did it!” Priestess unwrapped herself from me and embraced Moontouch. There were tears in her eyes.

“Come on, Priestess, let’s get out of this madhouse and go somewhere we can, uh, talk.” I gathered up my two girls and looked around. Deadeye and Stormdawn were both grinning like fools. They still wore deathpaint.

“Where’s Dragon?” I asked. Then I spotted him. A sweet little Assidic girl was standing before him. She reached out her arms for him, almost as if praying. She was smiling like a saint. Dragon reached out and gently pulled her to him. Cze Lu! I knew the advice I had given her was going right out the window. But it didn’t matter! We were all alive, and it was time to celebrate.

On the magtrain back to Alpha Station, I sat between Priestess and Moontouch. The train was packed. Deadeye and Storm and Dragon and Cze Lu were with us, and Love’s Child was in Moontouch’s lap, soon to be reunited with his parents. It was so crowded, people stood in the aisles. Our group was almost giddy with happiness, talking nonstop. It was only a short distance to Alpha, and the train was fast and smooth.

“I’ve only got a few fracs, Thinker,” Priestess said. “We’re terribly busy at the body shopI’ve never been busier in my life. But I had to welcome you.” Her face was shining with happiness.

“How did you get here?” I asked. “I thought you were going to watch the kids in Providence, while “

“I couldn’t stand it, Thinker. The whole galaxy was at war, and I was a housecat, fat and happy, sipping milk and watching the kittens. I was getting cranky and nasty, shouting at LiLo even shouting at the kids. I felt ashamed. I just couldn’t go on. I turned the kids over to LiLo, and made her promise to watch over them, for eternity if necessary. Then I walked into Providence and raised my hand for Andrion. I was on a starship before the day was out. They desperately need medics. I’m so glad I did it! We’ve been expecting big casualties from Mongera or wherever you were going. Millie wouldn’t tell me everything. What happened? We heard there was no attack. Is it true?”

“Yes, it’s true.”

“Well, that’s wonderful. All those soldiers alive! What a miracle.”

“Are you sure the kids will be all right?”

“I’ve learned a lot about LiLo. I’d trust her with my lifeand my kids. Where is Millie? Is she all right?”

“She was on a hospital ship, the Tough Love. As far as I know, she’s fine.”

“Good. Good. That’s wonderful! All right, this is Alpha Station. I’ve got to run to the Body Shop. I’ll call you the instant I’m free! My cube is pretty small, but we can squeeze in one more, Thinker!” She gave me a little-girl smile that melted my heart. I knew she had come to Andrion for meonly for me. Moontouch squeezed my hand, her exotic Taka eyes half-closed, her tender lips half-open. Deadman’s death, how could any man be more fortunate than I? I’ve died and gone to heaven.

“Go right in, Commander. The general will see you.” Tara’s secretary triggered the door open. It was the same office I had last seen her in, high atop Alpha Station. Getting an appointment to see her was not easy and I had left a whole lot of brass in the waiting room.

“Wester! What a relief. You look great.” She abandoned her chair and came out from behind the huge conference desk to greet me. She was so charged with beauty and energy that she was almost like a human lightning bolt. I figured she’d wind up running ConFree one of these days.

“You look pretty good yourself, Tara. I just wanted to thank you. For the mission, I mean.”

“Thank me? I should thank you, Wester. You saved all those people, in extraordinary circumstances. I’ve read a brief on your actions. How is Moontouch?”

“She’s fine. Nothing puts her off.”

“That’s true. She was heroic. And the kid?”

“He’s fine, Tara. Look, I know it took guts, on your part, to get the mission approved. In view of the planned attack on Mantis. I’d just like you to know how grateful I am.”

“That’s quite all right, Wester. I try to do the right thingfor everybody. It’s not easyit’s seldom easyto decide what’s right.”

“That’s for sure. What happened to the attack, Tara? Can you tell me that? The official explanations I’ve heard so far are unconvincing.”

“Yes, I know, Wester.” A cloud seemed to pass over her lovely features. “That’s on our list of ‘Things To Do Today.’ We deal in the truth and we owe the truth to the people of ConFree. Nothing less.”

“And what was the truth?”

“Let’s go outside, Wester, it’s a lovely morning.” I followed her over to a doorway that led us to a long balcony that ran along the top story of the building. Cool breezes kissed my skin. The world was fresh and bright. We leaned against the railing and breathed in the morning.

“Look at that, Wester!” She flung out her arms, taking in everything. As far as we could see, the Legion’s mighty armed camp stretched. It was a gigantic portable military city, thousands of gleaming grey tempomods of every size and function, swarming with troopers, completely surrounding Alpha Station. It seemed even more formidable and busy than when I had last seen it. The Station itself still showed damage from the O’s attack. “It’s all for the people,” she said, “everything we do is for the people of ConFree. And we can do anything, when we put our mind to it. It’s a terrible, fearsome power, when we wield it, in the name of the people of ConFree. And we have to be sure we get it right.” A harsh thunderclap interrupted her. It continuedI could feel the vibrations in the air. A shuttle was heading upsidethere, a blinding golden exhaust and a dark wedge, disappearing into the clouds.

“The planned attack on the O fleet at Mantis was the right thing to do, wasn’t it, Tara? I sure think so. We had them in our sightsthe whole damned fleet, fat and happy. Revenge, at last, and we cripple them permanently. Right?”

She looked off into the distance. “It seems obvious, Wester, but things that seem obvious are sometimes deceptive. The Council called off the attack, at the last moment, based on the latest information we had. I don’t know if that was the right decision or the wrong decision, Wester. Nobody does. But we take responsibility for our decisions at the upper levels of ConFree. I can tell you I was salivating to attack the O fleet, Wester. I wanted rivers of green blood to flow, I wanted every stinking O to die, horribly. I knew a lot of our own soldiers would die too, but I was prepared to accept that, as the price for a great victory. But in the end I urged my comrades to cancel the attack, under certain circumstances. And those circumstances were met. I’ll live with my decision, Wester. If we’re wrong, we’ll probably be executed.”

“And what were these circumstances?”

“Have you heard of genetic migration?”

“Yes I have. And I still don’t see what that has to do with cancelling our attack.”

“That O you sent me from Andrion was very useful, Wester. Our lifies learned a lota great dealabout the O’s double brain, and mind, and thought processes. Oh, we still don’t understand them, we can’t communicate with them, but what we did learn from your O was how the O’s brain is structured. That’s very important. We can make very accurate conclusions about how these creatures act, if we understand how their brain is physically structured. And our life scientists did that. Their preliminary report was convincing.”

“And what did they conclude?”

“Well, first of all they told us about the genetic migration, which is triggered biologically, by genetic survival and reproductive mechanisms deep within the brain. They told us that, because of the particular way the O’s double brain is structured, the O’s see the universe in very clear, unambiguous terms. They would have a strong biological imperative to defend the race and engage in territorial expansion if that was seen as benefiting the race. However, this could only be done if it was clear, to them, that they were completely justified in doing so, morally.”

“Morally? You’re joking. They’re monsters! They eat their enemies!”

“No. Our lifies told me the expansion and aggression of the O’s is based on the conviction that they are justified in what they are doing, and that any other creatures they meet, who oppose them, must be viewed by them as evil. In other words, it’s good versus evil, in their view. And they’re the good guys.”

“Who cares what they think? What does this have to do with cancelling the attack?”

“Listen, Wester. If the O’s conclude that the race is threatened, or if they conclude that their view of their enemies is seriously wrong, this genetic migration may be triggered. And it will lead to a general retreat, and a long period of reflection, and reproduction, to prepare for the future.”

“All the more reason to blast their fleet to atoms.”

“Based on what we now know, we have concluded that the general retreat of the O’s after the Plague War was a genetic migration, triggered by their defeat by Fleetcom. But our lifies told us more. More fascinating information about the O’s. They view other creatures as either friends or enemies, good or evil. There is no middle ground. You can’t be neutral. You’re with them, or against them. If they are not facing evilin their eyesthey cannot function as aggressors. Isn’t that interesting? Isn’t that nice to know?”

“How do we know that?”

“Our lifies tell us the brain structure is very clear. If the O’s meet friendship they mustthey willrespond in kind. Remember Mantis? Remember what Gildron told us about the O’s, when they first landed on Mantis? A ladle of cool water, extended in friendship. The O’s have never bothered the Daz’ra, even though they’ve been living among them. But the lifies told us more. If you are categorized as evil and act it, you confirm their certainty. But if you are categorized as evil and don’t act it, you shatter their certainty. They will pause, and try to puzzle it out. What happened after we gave the formula for Xeno-A to the O’s, Wester? We saved them from the Plague. And they stopped attacking us. The O’s have acted just like our lifies are telling us they should act, based on their brain structure.”

“What do you mean, they stopped attacking us? What about Andrion? What about Dindabai? Don’t they count?”

“Yes! It’s very interesting, Wester. That shouldn’t have happened, but it did. The lifies told us one more thing we could expect from the O’s. If, for whatever reason, they have classified you as friendly, but you turn on them, they will react with ferocity.”

“So what? We didn’t turn on them.”

“No, we didn’t. But they were clearly upset about something. That’s why I opened up my mind to your captive O, Wester. That’s why I let him roam around in my head, and then sent him back to Mongera. We can’t communicate with them, but I wanted him to seewith his psychic powersthat we didn’t do whatever it was they were upset about.”

“How do you know the lifies are right?”

“What they’re saying is reflected by how the O’s are reacting, Wester. As we launched the fleet for the Mantis attack, the O’s were pulling out of all the worlds they had occupied in our sector. All right, we thought, they were defeated in the Battle of Andrion Deep. So that made sense. But could it be a genetic migration? We knew Mantis was the Hqs for their galactic effort. The orders were that Fleetcom was to attack if we saw no signs that the O’s were pulling out of Mantis. But if they were pulling out, the attack was to be cancelled. We used the Q-link eyemotesand the Q-links on your own sensorsto determine that. It was almost immediately clear that they were pulling out, that it was a genetic migration, and that we had once again made the transition from enemies to friends, based, presumably, on their examination of my brain. If the O’s classified us as friendly, the conflict with them would be over. Permanently. And I, for one, viewed that possibility as important enough to justify calling off our attack.”

“And that’s why we were told not to fire unless fired upon.”

“Exactly.”

“I see.” But I didn’t really see. There were plenty of unanswered questions. Tara seemed suddenly subdued, somewhat tired, gazing blankly into the distance. “All right, we save them from the Plague, and then they attack us,” I said. “Why did they do that?”

“We don’t know, Wester. But we’re going to find out. And I believe the consequences are going to be truly horrific, when we do. I’m sending Gravelight to Mantis, to communicate with the Daz’ra, if she can. Do you remember Gravelight? That little blonde girl. Her powers have been growingshe’s a lot stronger than I am, at this point. My psychic powers have been fading. Anyway, the Daz’ra are powerful psychers toonot as powerful as the O’s of course, but we know they can communicate with the O’s. You remember Gildron communicated with them.” She sighed, and I knew Gildron’s ghost was still with her. “The O’s made Mantis their homefor many years. I’m hoping the Daz’ra can tell Gravelight what the O’s motivation was to attack us.”

“I hope you made the right decision, Tara,” I said. “I’m sorry you have to make those kinds of choices. It must be terrifying. The consequences are so important. For all of us.”

“Thank you, Wester.” She sighed again, and her face hardened. “It gets harder and harder. And it’s like my heart is frozen, when I do decide what we have to do. But I never have any regrets. I do what I feel I must, for our future. For the future of the people of ConFree. That’s all I can do. Right or wrong, let the Gods decide. It’s the same way for us allall of us who must make these decisions. Don’t ever rise this high, Wester. It’s hell.”

“I don’t think there’s any danger of that.”

I slept with Priestess in her little cube in Nurse’s Quarters in the Body Shop. Actually we didn’t get a whole lot of sleep. It had been so long! She was just like an angelsupernatural beauty and eternal love, clinging to my fevered body, her heart thumping against my chest, slim arms flung around my neck, wet kisses all over my face, silky black hair like a misty rain, tickling my cheeks.

“Miss me?” she gasped.

“Nah. Not at all.”

“Liar. You were dreaming about me every moment. I know how your mind works.”

“Well, I guess I did think about you sometimes. I mean well, a lot. Or, uh, well actually I guess it was all the time. Yeah. All the time.”

“Me too,” she whispered. We lay there, in each other’s arms, in the warm dark, completely relaxed. I don’t think I’d ever been happier.

“If the war with the O’s is over,” Priestess asked, “what will happen to us? Will we get sent back to Providence? I was so happy there.”

“It’s hard to tell. Tara is still working on finding out why the O’s attacked us. I’m afraid of what might happen when she finds out.”

“Doesn’t it ever end? Can’t we ever settle down to a normal life?”

“Soldiers of the Legion don’t have normal lives, you know that. We should just live for the present. That’s all we can do.”

“Well, somebody’s got to take care of the kids. And I think it’s Millie’s turn now. Is she back yet?”

“The Tough Love is supposed to be orbiting Dindabai about this time. I’m not sure how long they’ll be there. They’re supposed to be re-organizing the Body Shop there and fixing up the last of the casualties. It might be awhile.”

“Good. I mean, I love Millie, but I want you to myself for awhile. I mean, at least I’ll only be sharing you with one other girl instead of two. You’re really a hopeless case, you know. And so am I.”

“I know,” I admitted. “Sorry.” What else could I say?

“Did you say Tara was sending that psycher Gravelight to Mantis to ask the Daz’ra about the O’s? That should be a big waste of time.”

“Why would it be a waste of time?”

“Why don’t you just ask Moontouch? She’s supposed to be a seer, and prophesize the future and all. And you told me yourself she knows things that nobody else does. She was a captive of the O’sand spent a long time with both the O’s and the Daz’ra. If she’s such a hot medium maybe she knows why the O’s attacked us.”

“Deadman!” I gasped. “I never thought of that!” I was stunned. Good Lord, Moontouch even predicted the war. And she led us to Mantis. Why shouldn’t she have insights into the O’s motivation?

“You’re welcome,” Priestess said. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can help you with. Bet you can’t make love again!”

“Hey sir, we’ve finally got some scoop on the raid on the Temple of the Sun.” The young Legion trooper seemed quite excited about it. “See Captured Media Exploitation, the latest document.”

“Yeah, thanks, I’m already watching it,” I replied. Hey, sir. That was maybe a little too informal, but I was too damned busy to make an issue of it. Upon arrival in Andrion 2, I had been autoassigned to Galactic Information Andrion, charged with making sense of the current situation, and the Systie interrogation datacard that we had stolen or purchased from the SIS looked as if it was going to be quite useful in clearing up the Temple of the Sun-Fortuna mess. My d-screen showed a pale, sweating Orman, evidently naked, strapped to a metal chair facing a metal table. His face was clean shaven and he looked young, but the Ormans were immortalsunlike the billions of mortals that they ruled on behalf of the Mocains. His head was recently shaven and the blood specks showed it had not been a gentle shave. A portable brainscan was attached to his scalp. The harsh interrogation lights were focused on him and he blinked nervously in the glare. A giant Mocain clad in a silver uniform sat behind the table, leaning forward on his huge arms, almost as if anxious to consume the little Orman. I knew silver was the color of the highest command levels of the United System Allianceor what was left of it. Another Mocain paced back and forth in the shadows behind the lights.

“So you informed the Chairman before launching the operation?” the Mocain asked. “We don’t believe you!” The Mocain gave an impression of limitless power. He was balda symbol of the warrior casteand he glared at the Orman fiercely. His pale flesh had a very faint green tinge. Several golden earrings dangled from his earlobes. The use of the term ‘you’ was considered rude in the System, but it was perfectly all right if a superior wished to emphasize an inferior’s lowly status.

“We are being completely truthful, as it can see from the mindscan. We informed the Chairman.”

“You may think you are being truthful, but it’s nonsense. There is no record of such an operation!”

“We told it, it was highly compartmented, and hand delivered. We were under orders to destroy all records upon termination of the operation and we did so.”

“Very convenient! You were running operations out of your hip pocket, with no accountability! Reckless operations with galactic consequences! The Chairman knows nothing of this! Who did you send your reporting to?”

“We sent it to the SIS liaison to the PolOr CouncilGeneral Loran-ko, for his eyes only.”

“The General denies knowing anything about it!”

“Well, perhaps the General should be in this chair rather than us. As it can see from the brainscan ” A burst of hot blue electricity crackled over the Orman’s skin as the second Mocain stepped out of the shadows wielding a shockrod. The Orman screamed, doubled over in agony, banging his face against the table. He slowly recovered, gasping and gurgling, his nose bleeding.

“You must be polite, as well as truthful. We’re getting sick of you people. Even when you’re telling the truth, you’re lying.”

“We are loyal citizens of the United System Alliance,” the Orman gasped, “and have always supported and encouraged the equality of all, and proven ourselves faithful servants to our Mocain brothers. We have been with it since the days of the Mocain Supremacy. We deal only with the truth. How can it doubt us now? What have we done, to deserve this?”

“You have conspired against the state that you purport to serve. You have formed a secret conspiracy, limited to those of your own blood, and dedicated to acquiring unlimited power. You are traitors! You are vipers! You are a cancer that must be surgically removed, for our state to survive!”

“We have done none of that! Ask us! Ask us anything! It will get the truth! We know nothing of conspiracies! The Chairman himself sent us congratulations on the success of the operation!”

“What was the attack on Asumara’s Temple of the Sun designed to achieve?”

“It was meant to enrage the religious fanatics of the Asumara Holy Commune, and provoke them into attacking the CrimCon. And it worked. It worked perfectly!”

“And why was that so important to your conspiracy?”

“It was not for us! We’ve told you, we know of no conspiracy! Galactic Resources is the instrument of the Chairman of the Council of Ministers! And TechScan Ventures was the cover for our action arm. The operationwe called it Black Shieldwas devised to benefit the United System Alliance by weakening the Confederation of Free Worlds, the CrimCon, tying it down in a series of mindless regional wars in the Gulf and the Gassies. This was coordinated closely with the office of the Chairman of the Council of Ministers!”

The Mocain kept a close watch on the mindscan reader on the table. “We’re not sure why they say Ormans are so intelligent,” he said. “You really seem to believe this crap. So, all this correspondence was destroyed after the op?”

“Yes sir.”

“Funny that General Loran-ko has no recollection of something that important. Did you personally brief him?”

“No sir.”

“Well, you must have been in touch with someone at the Council of Ministers. You said the correspondence was eyes only to General Loran-ko. And hand delivered. How?”

“We it was delivered to the SIS liaison to the General, a Cit Shana.”

“A Cit Shana. Interesting. He’s an Orman, isn’t he?”

“An Orman? Well yes, butis that important? Aren’t we all”

“Is that important!” The Mocain leaped to his feet. “Yes, it’s important! How damned convenient! Everybody involved in this operation seems to be an Orman! And now your Council of Ministers contact is also an Orman. What the hell are you people up to? How stupid do you think we are? No, don’t answer that. We’ve been stupid, but that’s over now. Tell me about the attack on the Temple of the Sun. Now!”

“Yes sir. We used four Legion aircars and two squads of biogens, clad in Legion armor. They trashed the place, which was an important sacred site. They killed a lot of locals and then took off. It was a complete success. The locals were enraged. An Asumara raiding party then attacked a Legion outpostFortunaand slaughtered the inhabitants. The Legion then attacked Asumara, declared war and sacked the place. All of the Gulf and Gassies worlds were outraged and turned against the CrimCon. It was a perfect covert action operation that weakened the System’s primary enemy, the Criminal Conspiracy. We hid our tracks well, dismantling all the biogens and destroying their parts. Yes, we did it and we’re proud of it! It was done at the behest of the Council of Ministers.”

“And who was the genius who thought this one up? And don’t tell me it was General Loran-ko!”

“Cit Zharzha Guinn is the Chief of Galactic Resources, and approved the plan.”

“Funny how we can’t find him any more. Where is he?”

“We don’t know.”

“And this fellow Shana. He’s gone too. They kind of left you to clean up after them, didn’t they?”

“We are a loyal citizen of the United System Alliance, and we deny being a part of any conspiracy.”

“This wonderfully successful operation you described. Were they planning any kind of follow-up? Any other big plans?”

“We were told that Black Shield was only a test run for a more important operation that was awaiting the success of Black Shield.”

“And what do you know about that operation?”

“Only what we’ve told it, sir.”

“Isn’t that wild, sir?” The young Legion officer was looking over my shoulder, watching the d-screen. “The whole Fortuna thing was the result of a Systie deception operation. That is scary. Do you think the Ormans did it on their own, without notifying the Chairman?”

“Not for a moment,” I said. “They certainly did it on behalf of the System, but now the System is having second thoughts. And, since they’re purging the Ormans, they want to brand this a rogue Orman operation, just in case we find out about it. But I don’t think we’re going to fall for that.”

“They’ve been manipulating us and everyone else.”

“The moral of the story is never trust a Systie and never trust an Orman.”

“I’ll remember that, sir.”

“Glowpetal tea, my King,” Moontouch whispered, handing me a little stone cup, “flavored with my tears. Drink deeply of our love.” I took a sip. It was warm and light and fragrant. We were in one of my favorite places, high atop the Queen’s Palace in Stonehall, on the terrace, under a brightly colored suntent that was creaking in a faint breeze. It was lightly raininga grey mist, filtering gently down to patter onto the tent and the flagstones of the terrace. It put a warm glow to my flesh. Moontouch dropped another sliver of silk into the flickering brazier. It caught fire and the odor of burning silk and musky incense tickled my nostrils. Moontouch was on her knees, surrounded by golden pillows, and I was propped up on one elbow, lazily watching her feed the silk into the fire.

“The Gods would not reveal if I would see you again, my love,” Moontouch whispered. “Sometimes the Gods are cruel, and cover the future with a misty cloud. I wrote my sorrows on these prayer slips, and my promises, should the Gods of the Dead return you to me. Now my dreams are fulfilled. You have returned, and I send my pledges to Heaven. I am a willing slave to the House of the Dead, which protects my people and yours. The children of the Golden March and the sons of the Legion are one, united by adversity and loyalty. Your people have died for ours, and our people have died for yours. Our enemies flee in terror. Our bold standards fly over Stonehall, once again. Our oldest prophecies are fulfilled. I bless you, my King.”

I could see the glimmer of tears in her eyes. She was right. The ancient battle flags of the Taka people fluttered over the huge main gate of Stonehall, and just below the flags was the rotting head of an Omni, besieged by a swarm of little carnivorous birds. I took another sip of tea. The misty rain was comforting, and I wondered if I could live this instant forever, by Moontouch’s side, on a cool wet morning.

“Moontouch, the Undead do not speak, but they communicate with their minds. They are very powerful, as you know, and can make you do things that you do not wish to do. Were you able to understand them? Were you able to communicate with them, when you were a prisoner?”

“We can not speak with them, Slayer, but they can speak to us, through their will. It is impossible to resist them. They speak, we obey. They rule their enemies with terror. There can be no resistance.”

“And the Daz’ra? Do they rule the Daz’ra with terror?”

“No, my King. They do not rule the Daz’ra. They treat the Daz’ra with kindness, and respect.”

“Why is that, Moontouch?”

“It is because the Daz’ra treat the Undead with kindness and respect as well.”

“Why do they hate us, Moontouch? Why did the Undead attack ConFree?”

“It is because of your evil deeds.”

“What evil deeds? What did we do?”

“You betrayed them. It is in every hateful command they direct towards us. We are the willing slaves of the great betrayers, the creatures of the dark cross. That’s how they think of you. They hate us for that.”

“But what did we do?”

“You redeemed yourselves, with the antidote to the Great White Death. You gave it to them willingly, when you could have withheld it. You became friends and allies of the Undead race. And then you betrayed them, utterly.”

“How did we betray them?”

“How I do not know, Slayer. I know only what the Undead have unwittingly revealed to me, in their bitter commands. I can sense their sorrow, and their hate. They vow to eradicate your kind from the universe.”

“Sorrow?”

“For the young. For the unborn. For the future. They cannot forgive you, Slayer. They will pursue you, forever, until your cursed race is extinct.”

The young. What the hell did we have to do with the Omni young? I closed my eyes and that intercept thumped faintly in my ears, a message from the O’s, delivered in the dark:

Blood blood heart heart side side reach reach touch touch memory memory love love shield shield children children supreme one. Light calm peace eternal one. Duty duty help help touch touch heart heart. Water water promise promise.

Blood ice heart serpent side lost reach lost touch burn memory lost love hate shield sword hatchlings corpse deathlord. Dark cross war eternal one. Duty kill help kill touch kill heart kill. Blood blood false false.

Duty struggle unborn young love sacrifice false hands false love.

Children, children, hatchlings. The unborn young. False love. What did it mean?

“Moontouch. These thoughts their anger, about the children. Is there any place, that you became aware of, associated with the problem with the children?”

“Yes, my love. Sometimesmost of the timethey burn with hatred for the creatures of the dark cross, and I can hear Crista, Crista, Crista, like an evil heartbeat. Sometimes the world of Mongera seems to be the focus of their hate. But it is always the creatures of the dark cross that are to blame.”

Mongera! The memories swirled around me. All those dead troopers, my own brothers and sisters, Coolhand, Warhound, Ironman, Boudicca, Sassin. Squads Beta and Gamma, sacrificed so that ConFree could live. But we got the O. Gamma got the O! You put that on my grave, Valkyrie! Boudicca had said that, a chill whisper, and then died. Our raid on Mongera was years ago, and could have nothing to do with current events. But what was it? The O’s had voluntarily pulled out of Mongera, after occupying it for several years. What did it mean? I couldn’t get anything further from Moontouch, but it gave me a starting point, at least. Mongera!

Chapter 21

The Dark Cross

“Decar! Death!” The crash doors of the Phantom snapped open, revealing only darkness outside. I leaped down, and the shock absorbers in my armorite combat boots cushioned the drop on to gritty soil. These were my new combat boots, presented to me by Priestess with all her love. I never did get my bunny slippers but it was probably just as well. I was A&A, guns up, fully armored, all sensors on alert, the inside of my helmet glowing red, safeties off, ready for anything. The rest of the squad was inserting behind methe tacmap etched into my faceplate showed me everything. It was very dark, thick clouds covering the stars, but I could see the mound ahead, and my tacmap was sketching it out even as I ran towards it. I didn’t need the sketchmy heart speeded up just from a glance at the real thing, a huge, brooding, dark, silent earthen mound, terrifying in its mystery and its menace.

“Disperse!” Dragon ordered, and the squad spread out. We weren’t sure what to expect but we were ready for anything. I hated these damned mounds. We had fought our way in and out of one on Uldo and it had cost us more than I even wanted to think about. And now thisanother mound, this one on Mongera. The O’s built these things wherever they went. They were like underground bases, and used for different purposes. According to the tacmap, this one had three levels underground and only one that extended above ground. It was covered in dirt, and as it loomed above us, it appeared to be completely deserted.

“No life detected,” Sweety reported.

“Entry team!” Dragon called out. Jo-Jo and Rabies sprinted to the huge armored double door in the side of the mound. It was firmly closed. They affixed the contac charge to the door, ran back, and triggered it. A shattering blast and a white-hot glare announced our presence. Shrapnel whistled around eerily and large glowing pieces of cenite bounced past us.

“Attack,” Dragon ordered calmly. We charged into that great open doorway, firing full auto xmax into the dark. I hosed it down thoroughly, the noise setting my teeth on edge. We were in a huge entry hall, now flashing and erupting from the x.

“Cease fire.” We stood there in the sudden silence in a fighting arc, wreathed in smoke, looking around the darkened hall. It was burning here and there from the x. My darksight activated.

“Negative life,” Sweety reported. There was nothing thereit had been cleaned out of whatever had once been there. The flooring and walls and ceiling appeared to have been burnt to a crisp, and it wasn’t us that did it.

“What’s the story with the walls?” Dragon asked.

“Look at the deck,” Dr. Doom said. “Looks like it was hit with starmass.”

“Tourist, stay alert,” Dragon said. “If we meet anything here, we’re talking with your Manlink first.”

“You betcha, sir!” I liked this bunch. Recon Nine Seven, Dragon’s squad, was experienced and dependable. I was getting to like them despite myself. I was afraid of getting too close to them, or anyone else. I had lost too many friends, and it hurt too bad.

“You shouldn’t open your ” I began, but Gravelight had popped up her faceplate. She ignored me. A pale, tired little girl, she peered into the darkness with tragic big blue eyes, her face framed with wispy blonde hair. Tara had insisted on Gravelight accompanying us. She had proven useful on Mantis, communicating with the Daz’ra, about the O’s. And now she was to help us outtracking down the problem, just like a bloodhound.

“Oh no,” she said quietly. “Oh no.”

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“They burnt it,” she said. “Starmass, yes. The whole base. All of it. They wanted to purify it.”

“Purify it?”

“Yes. A tragedy. A great tragedy. Oh no. Oh no.”

“Who burnt it?”

“The O’s. They burnt it.”

“What for? It was their base. Why did they burn it?”

“They were leaving. Leaving it behind. What a tragedy. Oh a great sadness. How could they oh no.”

“How could they what?” I insisted.

“How can you think of them like that? They’re not monsters. They love, they care, they grieve. They protect their own. Don’t we do that too?” She wandered around the great hall, one hand slightly raised, almost as if testing the air. “Oh no. Oh Deadman save us. It’s here. Oh no. I don’t want to go on. It’s going to hurt. It’s right here, it happened right here. Oh no.”

“What does that mean?” Dragon asked me on private.

“Beats me. The reason they call ‘em psychers is they’re all psycho, you know that. We’d best check out the whole installation. She seems to think there’s something here. Sweety?”

“I detect no life, Thinker,” my Persist answered.

“Redhawk, any action?”

“Nice and quiet up here,” Redhawk replied from the Phantom, gliding silently and invisibly somewhere overhead like a murderous guardian angel. “Nobody in the vicinity.”

“Well, keep watching our perimeter. I doubt we’re welcome here.”

“Tenners.” The situation on Mongera was confused. The O’s had left, and the System was rushing back, but not very efficiently. Some of the locals had just declared independence, so it was unclear who was really in charge. We didn’t want to ask anyone’s permission to examine our mound, hence the armor and weaponry. This mission was vital to ConFree and I didn’t want any interruptions.

“All right,” I said. “We start with this level and level two, and search them both thoroughly, then head for levels three and four below. I want fast and efficient, gang. All sensors recording. Anything strange or suspicious, take samples. We could be interrupted at any time.”

“Sweats, take Seven, Eight and Nine,” Dragon ordered, “and do the second level, as planned. I’ll take this level. If anyone needs the pscyher, uh, Gravelight, sing out. She’s going to walk through every level anyway just to be sure.”

“Tenners,” Sweats replied. “Rabies, Viper, DD, on me.” Now we were on it. I always felt better, when we were taking action. Everything we had learned from our examination of the sketchy record of events on Mongera during the Omni occupation pointed to something unusual that had happened at this particular mound, Mound 29G37 on our sitmaps. We didn’t know what it was, but both Moontouch and Gravelight had pointed us towards Mongera as the source of our troubles. And now we were here. I didn’t intend to leave without an answer.

“Sealed and locked. This section doesn’t appear to have been fried too bad,” Sweats said. He faced a huge metal vault. It was almost untouched by the starmass which had scorched and melted much of the rest of the installation. We were on the third level by then. The entire installation was pitch black, but we were on darksight and had our spotlights on as well where necessary. We weren’t too worried about interruptions. All we were finding was ash and congealed blobs of unidentifiable debris. Starmass didn’t leave much, and it looked like the O’s had been anxious to annihilate this place from history.

“Sir, it’s the psycher,” DD reported on the tacnet. “We’re on the bottom level, and she’s not cooperating. She’s kind of falling apart. You’d better check her out.” Doctor Doom was our medic, a very sharp Assidic who should have been able to handle Gravelight without any help from me.

“All right,” I said. “Sweats, open it, I don’t care how. DD, I’ll be right there.”

When I got there Dragon and Doctor Doom were standing over a very agitated Gravelight, who was huddled on her knees, alternately holding herself and fluttering her armored hands up to her face and back. Her faceplate was still open.

“What’s the sit?” I asked Dragon.

“She’s gone out of orbit,” Dragon replied. “I told her we don’t cry in the Legion, but it didn’t work. You’re the CO. Deal with it.” He sounded pretty disgusted. Dragon was a certified hardass.

“What’s the problem, Gravelight?” I asked. Her face was all screwed up just like a baby and the tears were streaming down her cheeks. She was sniffling and choking, rubbing her eyes with her armored hands.

“Ititit was here. Right here!” She gave a kind of strangled yelp, and covered her eyes. “I don’t want to go on! I can’t! You can’t make me! It hurts! Ahhh it’s hawhawhorrible!” I looked around. We were in a vast, darkened hall and the deck was pitted with scores of dark openings, about a mike deep, that had evidently been starmassed thoroughly. Each opening was rimmed with a mechanism that might have been a covering at one time, but they were all open now, blistered and half melted.

“God! Dear God! Murder! No! No! III can’t! Oh God! Deadman, save me! I don’t want this! Please, please, please!” She was twitching, her lower lip was quivering, and her face was deathly pale, covered with icy sweat.

“Kick her ass!” Viper suggested. “We’re working, why isn’t she? Worthless bitch!” Viper was also a hardass and she evidently wasn’t a fan of Gravelight.

“Silence in the ranks,” Dragon ordered calmly.

“Gravelight,” I said. “You’ve got to help us. You’ve got to get a hold of yourself. What happened here? Tell me.”

“BububutI want to go home!” she cried in despair.

“We all want to go home, Gravelight. But the evil isn’t going to go away. Not until we kill it. And we have to know what it is, first. ConFree depends on you. Only you can tell us what happened here. Now tell me.” I reached out and took her hand. I gently pulled her to her feet. She was whimpering and twitching, but she came. I pulled her towards the center of the hall.

“No! Stop! Oh no! Aaah It hurts! It hurts! They were right here. Here! Betrayal! The dark cross! They came they killed everything that moved! They were only babies! Babies! No!” She shrieked and the tears came again, but she maintained a death grip on my hand.

“Who came? The dark cross? What do you mean?”

“The the the dark cross, they call us. They were firing plasma. Into the amniotic sacs. To kill the pupa, to kill the young. Kill the young! They burnt, hopeless, helpless, still in the sac, twitching no! I can’t stand it! The females, they were here too! The females! They died too! They were to to take care of the young. To raise the young, to hold the babies, to love them, the next generation. They wanted a home here, a home, do you hear? Who are the monsters? Who are the monsters here?”

“The dark cross ” I began.

“Legion armor!” Gravelight declared “Lots of them, working very fast, then getting out fast. The dark cross. It wasn’t us. It wasn’t us!”

A cold thrill prickled over my flesh. “Who was it?”

“Biogens! Unholy, bloodless biogens! Killing machines! The babies were there, in those cribs, in their sacs, and the females were watching over them. Be-be-because they loved them! And they were all killed. Everyone! Who are the monsters? You can’t blame biogens!” She burst into tears again.

“Thank you, Gravelight.”

“Can I go home now?”

“Yes. We can all go home now.”

“Thinker, we’ve got that vault open on the third level,” Dragon said on the net. “You’d best take a look at this.”

Our spotlights lit up an eerie scene. A rotting corpse lay on a chest-high metal slab in a room that had been stripped of most everything except some bizarre equipment that hung from the ceiling. I didn’t recognize it. Our lights cut the room into segments of dark shadows and white-hot glare. We gathered around the naked corpse. The flesh was liquefying. The creature had been riddled with x, and starmass had melted most of the legs. It was so badly decomposed we could not even identify the sex.

“Biogen,” Doctor Doom commented, lighting up one of the fiberex bones that showed through the putrid flesh. Yes, there was no doubtit was a biogen. “This is a body shop,” DD continued, “for the O’s. That equipment” he lit up the spidery tools that were dangling overhead “is for examining the patient. And this patient is a biogen.”

“Take a look at this,” Dragon said. His spotlight lit up a pile of junk in one corner. It was the remnants of an A-suit. A black Legion A-suit, badly shot up but unmistakable.

“All right, gang,” I said. “Record everything. We take the body and the armor back with us. DD, I hope you’ve got a body bag.”

“We’ve all got body bags,” he said. “in our toolpaks. The fully camfaxed, all weather, autotemp Model 6 field sleeping bag, fully lined and waterproof. Also useful for when you’re killed. I’ll use mine.” DD had a strange sense of humor.

“Thinker, Redhawk,” the tacnet crackled. “There’s a, um, a low-flying aircar approaching your position. Kind of nosing around. It looks like cops or military, I can’t tell. Want me to erase them?”

“Redhawk, Thinker,” I replied. “There’s been enough killing here already. How about distracting them? Send them off in another direction, then get back here and extract us. We’re about ready, I’ll let you know.”

“Tenners, can do,” Redhawk replied.

“You’re getting soft in your old age, Thinker,” Dragon remarked.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” I suddenly felt tired. Very, very tired.

“And that was it,” I told Tara. “Redhawk blew away a power station he found not too far away, the cops diverted to check it out, and then he came back and evaced us. Mission accomplished.”

“Thank you, Wester.” She slumped in her chair as I faced her across the giant conference desk. There were only the two of us in her office. It was night outside, and she had the lights down. It was quiet, and the pale glow of the d-screens softy illuminated us. “So,” she said. “We’ll await the forensics, but it’s pretty much what I expected. The raid on the Temple of the Sun on Asumara was just a dry run for the big onethe raid on the Omni hatchery on Mongera. The first caused the Holy Commune to raid Fortuna, which led to our attack on Asumara and alienated all the Gulf worlds. The second caused the Omnis to attack us, and led to another war, which we could well have lost. Since nobody can really communicate with the O’s, it was a brilliant plan. Stupendous gains for the System, serious losses for us. And they didn’t even have to fight us.”

“And it was the Ormans that did it.”

“It was the System that did it. The Ormans just thought it up. ‘Let others do your fighting.’ Remember that? That was the mission for Galactic Resources. But now, I think what’s happened is the Mocains are getting nervous about what they did. It was spectacularly successful, but look at the consequences. The System provoked the Omnis into attacking humanity, again. When they had stopped. That’s not going to look too good in the history books, even if it is depicted as an effort to weaken the CrimCon.”

“So they’re blaming the Ormans.”

“Right. They realized what vipers the Ormans are, at last, when I sent them that intercept. It sparked the purge. Now they think they’d better depict these events as a rogue Orman operation, just in case we find out about it. Especially because that sleaze Zharzha Guinn has hightailed it. Who knows what he’ll say, or do? They know we don’t have any sense of humor when it comes to ConFree nationals dying.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m nobody. I’ll just report our findings to Starcom and they’ll report it to the Executive Council, and they’ll report it to the ConFree Council, and they’ll make the decisions and report it to the citizens of ConFree.” She looked tremendously weary.

“What do you think will happen?”

“I don’t know. But it’s not going to be good for the United System Alliance, that’s for sure.”

“Are we facing another war?”

“Could be.” It was almost as if I’d asked her if it were going to rain.

“They won’t leave us alone, will they?” I asked.

“No. But, whatever is decided, they’re facing serious trouble. At the very least, we’ll be establishing a much closer relationship with the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Zequord 3 in the Hyades Cluster. And that’s right in their back yard. The Biogen Liberation Front is not going to be happy about the way the Systies used biogens in their deception operations, and then disassembled them and discarded the parts.” Her eyes were unfocused, just staring off into space, and her face was pale and splotchy.

“Are you all right, Tara? You don’t look too good.”

“I’m so sick if this, Wester. You’re right, they won’t let us alone. We just want to mind our own business, and stay in the Outvac. But they won’t let us. We’re all slaves of history, Wester. Slaves of the Legion cross. It’s cut right into my heart. The dark cross, the O’s call it. Deadman save us! We’re going to fight until we die. We’re going to have to drive a silver stake right into the heart of the System and it will have the Legion cross inscribed on it. Then we’ll spit on the corpse and, again, return to the Outvac. And wait for what comes next. Because it’s never going to end.”

“I’m sorry, Tara. Why don’t you quit? Why don’t you just quit? You deserve some peace and quiet.”

She gave me a very weak smile. “I can’t do that, Wester. I told you, I’ve got the cross of the Legion cut into my heart.”

I crawled, through the night, through my nightmares. Was it real, or just a terror in the night? I never knew. I was snaking wearily through a field of oily mud, under a dark sky. Pherdos! The sky flickered occasionally with deceptors and antimat.

“Tenners, are you clear?” Priestess asked me on the tacnet, breathing right in my ears. I knew she was out there somewhere, and it made it all the more crazy. A few lasers cracked overhead. A tacstar erupted on the horizon, electric blue, suddenly illuminating a corpse lying right in my path. A woman, swollen and putrid, blue skin falling off one petrified arm, crawling with maggots, awful fingers still scratching at the sky.

Again. Again! Again! How many more times would she visit me? I knew it was a nightmare now, and I struggled to climb out of it, to crawl away from her. She movedhad she moved, or was it only the wind? She wanted to say something to me, I knew. Don’t leave me! Help me! How could I help her? She was dead. She was long past dead. Why should she return now, to haunt me? Pherdos was a long time ago. I had crawled past her, anxious only to leave her behind, to get that Systie airtank.

I didn’t know her name. I didn’t know anything about her. She was a nameless victim of Systie aggression. She had been unarmoreda civilian, slaughtered at random. I had a glimpse of a silky blouse and a golden ring. Somebody had loved her, I knew. Somebody was grieving her loss. Maybe she had been young and beautiful. She certainly didn’t deserve to die. But it wasn’t my fault. Why was her memory haunting me? I had only seen her corpse for a few fracs.

Movement, behind me! She was struggling to get up! She wanted me to come back, I knew!

I awoke with a gasp, thrashing my arms around, hot and sweaty. Priestess was with me, restraining me, her cool slim arms around mine.

“Thinker! It’s all right, I’m here. What is it?”

I collapsed against the pillow, exhausted. “Sorry. It was that corpse. The woman. Pherdos.”

“Again? Why do you keep coming back to that, Thinker?”

“I’m damned if I know. I think she wanted to tell me her name.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s not your fault, Thinker. You can’t save the entire galaxy, all by yourself.”

“I know. I don’t want to.”

“Maybe you should let her tell you her name. Maybe it will end then.”

“Easy for you to say. She’s pretty scary.”

“Try to relax, Thinker. You’re getting pretty scary yourself.”

“Thinker? Priestess. Get over to the Body Shop right away. Fourth level, recovery pod.” Priestess cut the contact abruptly. It was early morning and I had just arrived at my cube in Galactic Information. She had sounded a bit stressed. I got up and hustled over to the Body Shop.

Priestess was in the recovery pod, monitoring a wall of glowing d-screens with several other medics and nurses. It was quiet and spotless and orderly.

“What’s up, Priestess?”

She pointed wordlessly to one of the d-screens, labelled RR2C. It showed a lovely little blonde girl, lying still on the airbed, covers up to her neck, eyes closed. Gravelight. It was Gravelight!

“What happened?” I asked.

“Suicide attempt,” Priestess replied. “Last night. She used cyro. We were lucky. We got there in time, and pumped her system. I knew you worked with her on Mongera. I thought you’d want to know.”

“Deadman. How did you find her in time? I thought cyro worked pretty fast.”

“It does. But when a psycher is dying, it’s a traumatic event. And their minds send out some kind of mental scream. Of course, nobody can hear it except another psycher. Tara was awakened in the middle of the night, and went charging over there and broke down the door and found her and called emergency.”

“Tara!”

“Yup.”

“Well, thank Deadman for Tara. The poor kid. She was in bad shape on Mongera. I guess it was just too much for her.”

“She’s certainly not the first psycher to decide to check out, permanently.”

“Do you want me to talk with her?”

“No. It’s not necessary. We’ve got somebody else.”

“Who’s that?”

“Remember Commander Val? From the Coldmark expedition?”

“Val! Yeah, I do. He had a thing for Gravelight, as I recall.”

“He still does. We thought it might help for her to see him. She’s conscious now.” A nurse appeared on the d-screen, leaning over Gravelight, saying something to her that we could not hear. Gravelight blinked her eyes and opened them, gazing into space, her child’s face expressionless.

Val appeared in the doorway, in camfax fatigues, hesitant. I remembered him well from our Coldmark adventurea tall, rangy Outworlder with reddish hair. He cautiously approached Gravelight’s bed and paused, looking down at her. The nurse pulled a little chair over to the bed for Val, said something to him, and left the room. Gravelight was looking at him, but no emotion showed. Val settled into the chair.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. Priestess had turned up the volume.

Gravelight did not respond. She was looking directly at him.

“Do you remember me?” Val asked. “My name’s Valfrom the Coldmark expedition.”

“I remember you.”

“Are you feeling better?”

“No.” She was pale and looked terrible.

“Why did you do this?”

“I want to die.”

“Why? You’re so young. You have everything to live for.”

“I want to die. And I’m not so young. I’ve seen too much. I don’t want to see any more.”

“Suicide is not the answer. If you want to change your life, you can change your life. You have the power to do it.”

“I know. That’s why I took the cyro. I wanted to change it. I wanted to end it.”

“You don’t have to end it. You can change your life without ending it. You don’t have to continue working as a psycher for the Legion. You can quitany time you want.”

“Easy for you to say. I’m a psycher. That’s all I am, that’s all I’ll ever be. Quit the Legion? What will I do? Work as a fortune teller on some frontier world? Rent myself out to a criminal syndicate? No. I’ve failed in life, I’ve failed the Legion, I’ve failed in my profession, I’ve failed myself. And the nightmares are slowly killing me anyway. I want to die. And nobody can stop me.”

“I’m going to stop you.”

“No, you’re not. Get out of here. I want to be alone.”

The rest of the nurses and medics gathered around the d-screen, silently watching the drama unfolding in Recovery Room 2C.

“I don’t think you want to be alone, Gravelight.”

“You’re wrong. Leave me alone.”

Val reached out to her and gently picked up one of her hands and held it in both of his. “Your hand is so cold,” he said. “The last time I touched you was on Coldmark. I’ve never forgotten it.” Gravelight did not respond, but she did not pull her hand away either.

“Gravelight you must know how I feel about you. You must.”

“Yes.” It was almost a whisper.

“I want to help you, Gravelight.”

“You can’t help me.” Another whisper.

“Yes, I can. I want to change your life. And I won’t need any cyro to do it.”

“I’m a psycher. You can’t help me. Nobody can help me.”

“You’re wrong. I’m going to change your life, if you’ll let me.”

“I’m a psycher, you’re a deadhead. There’s nothing you can do.”

“Yes, there is. I love you, Gravelight. I’ve loved you since the day I first saw you. You know that. You’ve got to know that. There’s nothing I want in this world, any more, except to live with you. I want you to be my wife. I don’t want you to be a psycher any more. I want you to quit the Legion, and become my wife. I’ll quit the Legion too, if I have to. We’ll make a new life, both of us. Together. You and me, psycher and deadheadand the rest of the world can burn in Hell!”

Gravelight was not looking at him any more, but her eyes were filling with tearsthat was obvious.

“You have no idea how difficult it is,” Gravelight gasped. “These demons are with me always!”

“I’ll be right beside you, for the rest of time. We’ll fight the demons together!”

“Impossible ” she sighed, seemingly exhausted. “We’re too different. I’m a psycher, you’re a deadhead. We can’t “

“It’s worse than that,” Val said. “You want to talk about differences? I’m male, you’re female. We’re almost different species, already. I don’t care if you’re a psycher! I’m not worried about that at all. I’m not afraid. How about you?”

“You can’t no, I’m alone. I’m all alone, in the dark. And you can’t help.”

“You don’t have to be alone. I’m right here, and I’m not leaving.”

“I I I can’t ask you “

“You’re not asking anything. I’m asking. Gravelight, will you marry me? Will you be my wife, forever?” He grasped her hand tightly before him, almost as if praying. The tears were overflowing from Gravelight’s eyes now.

“I I “

“Say yes, and I’ll never leave your side. I promise!”

She looked into his eyes, almost as if hypnotized, blinking through the tears. “I I Oh yes. Yes!” Val reached out and embraced her. One of the nurses gasped, and another was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Priestess was beaming with joy. What a morning! A happy ending for Gravelight? I sure hoped so. But I knew deadheads and psychers couldn’t live together. Tara had told me so.

Chapter 22

The Empire of the Eye

Priestess asked me something but I was lost in a happy dream, warm thrills running over my flesh with the pulsing, mystical rhythm of Dead Dogs, like an insistent salt water wave. We were in Alpha Station’s main officer’s club, the lights were way down, the place was packed, and starry little lights were twinkling from every snowy white table. The band was Skull, a ragged gang of war vets who had seen it all and put it all into their music, wild pulsing ionic lektra and penetrating autokey that hit me right in the heart.

“What?” I asked. We were both in formal blacks, taking a break after participating in a frantic conga line that had torn through the kitchens and out into the corridor and back, picking up cooks and bystanders along the way. Now we were back in the ballroom and everyone was screaming, singing and clapping along with Skull. What a lovely, angelic lead singer they had. She had a voice as clear as a bell. It was our long-delayed celebration of the conclusion of the unexpectedly blood-free Operation Mantis, and we were sure in a mood to celebrate.

“Happy?” she shouted, squeezed my hand. I squeezed back. She was absolutely lovely. How could I not be happy? Things were finally going our way, it appeared. Thunderous applause erupted as the band paused between songs.

“Follow me,” I said, pulling Priestess up and heading for the terrace. On the way out, we passed Dragon and Cze-Lu at their table. Cze-Lu had eyes only for Dragon, but Dragon spotted us and waved lazily. He sure looked happy.

It was a fresh, cool night outside. We paused on the terrace that ran along the ground-floor officer’s club, flanked by a long row of dato trees. Andrion 2’s lone moon glimmered overhead, casting a lovely silvery glow over the scenery. The heavens were full of stars, milky fields of stars just like sheets of diamonds, winking high overhead. Skull was still serenading us from the ballroom but it was quieter out here. There were a few other couples leaning along the low railing. I found a good place under a dato tree and we were alone.

“What’s going to happen, Thinker?” Priestess asked. She held my hand like a vice. She looked fixedly out at the stars, almost as if she could read the future out there.

“I don’t know. I don’t care.”

“How can you not care?”

“There’s nothing I can do. Nothing we can do. All we can do is go with whatever happens, and pray to Deadman that it works out for us.”

“Is Tara going to be executed?”

“I don’t know. All of Starcom is being questioned and investigated. The question is, was Mantis a brilliant success or a disastrous failure? I don’t think anyone knows the answer yet.”

“What do you think?”

“I initially thought it was a horrible failure. But I’m beginning to think Tara may have been right. Perhaps there’s more to life than just killing your enemies. Maybe it’s just as smart to get them to stop killing you.”

“It’s insane. She’ll either be executed, or commended. Let’s get out, Thinker. I’ve said it before. Let’s quit.”

I was silent. Priestess in moonlight. What a lovely sight.

“Are we going to declare war on the System again?” she asked. “I haven’t been keeping track.”

“I don’t think so. Unless they provoke it. We’re doing it differently this time. We’ve gone on a propaganda offensive, informing the entire inhabited galaxy of the System’s guilt for Asumara and for Mongera, provoking our war with Asumara and provoking the O’s to attack ConFree. We’ve broken diplomatic relations with the United System Alliance and all their subject worlds, and cut off all trade with them as well. ConFree has declared that the System and all their minions are henceforth considered as hostile states, and that a situation of undeclared war has been proclaimed. Any Systie starships that appear in ConFree vac will be attacked and seized. Let’s see, what else?”

“No trade, huh? Isn’t that going to screw them up pretty badly?”

“It is. I’ve been told their economy is very dependent on trade with ConFreewe’re the galactic economic powerhouse. And we can get along perfectly well without them. Let’s seeoh yeah! We’ve recognized the Biogen Liberation Front officially and have begun discussing military cooperation with them. The Systies went crazy when they heard that, as the Hyades is right in their backyard. We’ve unilaterally declared that our access to the Hyades Cluster is to be via a star track we call the Dark Cloud/Pleiades Corridor. Any Systie interference with ConFree star traffic to or from the Hyades via the DCPC will be followed by a declaration of war and all that entails. And there’s been a joint declaration by ConFree and the Dark Cloud Alliance that plans are underway for closer relations. In addition, we’ve made it clear that we welcome closer relations with the Pleiades Association.”

“It all sounds pretty good.”

“Shut down and give me a kiss. I don’t give a damn about the future.” We played kissy-face for awhile, and she almost sucked my tongue right out of my mouth. It was warm and cozy, heart against heart, Skull blasting away in the background, cool breezes whispering through the dato trees overhead.

“We’re on heightened alert,” I said, enunciating the words carefully with my damaged tongue, “and we’re sending fast reaction patrols into the Gulf to stamp out any further trouble that appears. Also, we’ve got a new policy for the Outworlder diaspora. It’s called Reunification. We send delegations to any world that agrees, and we interview and sign up all Outworlder and Assidic families that want to leave, and meet our criteria. Then we transport them to the Crista Cluster. We need more population for the Outvac, but we must ensure that they are all Outworlders or Assidics that share our vision for the future. We don’t want Outworlders or Assidics that have accepted slavery under the System, or those who are so confused or indoctrinated that they don’t know what slavery is.”

Priestess took a bite out of my earlobe, and then went after my neck. So enthusiastic, I thought.

“Ouch!” I exclaimed. “Are you listening to me?”

“And where do we find these people?” Priestess asked calmly. “I mean, considering that the System is hostile to us?”

“We find them on any world that agrees to host our delegations. Even Systie worlds, if they agree. In return, they get a loosening up of the trade restrictions if they allow their Outworlders to leave. And maybe an overall improvement in relations, for that particular world, if they want it. Sure, they’ll lose some potential tax slaves, but they’ll lose their dissident population, too. They might even look at it as a plus. I think it’s a brilliant idea. We liberate the diaspora, without bloodshed.”

“Well, it’s better than endless war.”

“Yes. It is.”

“But speaking of bloodshed, your ear is bleeding.”

“And whose fault is that?” I asked.

“Yes, I did it. I’m sorry. I think you should punish me. Maybe take me into some private place where nobody can see you abuse me.”

“You’re not interested in what I’ve been saying, are you?”

“Oh I am. Really. What happened to that Orman? The fellow Tara is looking for. Guinn something.”

“Zharzha Guinn. He’s gone. There’s some evidence that he may have headed for the Gulf Union, but we don’t know for sure. We’ve put out a one million credit bounty for him, alive, or a half million for his body. That really should do the trick.”

“So, the situation is really very good, for us, isn’t it?”

“Yes. It’s scary,” I said.

“Why scary?”

“I’ve lived my life thinking our mission was hopeless, the Legion was fighting the entire galaxy, and we were all doomed to die. That was even official Legion policy. The mission isn’t accomplished until you’re killed. Remember that?”

“Sure.”

“We were going to invade the Inners, free all the slave worlds, and kill all those Systie government officials, judges and lawyers. And that would take decades. We were going to fight forever, if necessary. Remember that?”

“Yup.”

“Well that’s all over, now. We’re back in the Outers, it seems. And, for the most part, minding our own business.”

“For the most part. The System doesn’t make it easy.”

“No. They don’t. But I worry, now. Maybe there is hope for us, after all. I never had to worry about that before.”

“Can we go back to Veltros?” Priestess asked.

“I don’t know. We can ask, I guess. What’s the latest from the kids?”

“LiLo is taking good care of them. Millie is still stuck on Dindabai, but she’s asked for a transfer back to Veltros so she can take care of them until we get back.”

“Until we get back?”

“We’re both putting in for a transfer tomorrow.”

“We are?”

“Yes, we are! You just said we could. I’m not going back without you. And you’re not going anywhere without me!”

“Um I mean, yeah. Sure.”

“Moontouch will get along fine without you. She’s tough. And she’s got a whole nation to rebuildhere.”

“Yes. You’re right. So do we. I hope the Legion agrees with your with our plans.”

“Everybody’s pulling out of Andrion. Right now. They won’t miss us. And Tara’s too busy right now to harass you any more.”

“I guess.” A brilliant white-hot glare erupted on the horizon, turning the night to day briefly. A guttural roar hit us next, and a dazzling star lifted gracefully towards the cosmos from the starport.

“Launch,” I commented. I could feel the vibrations in the air. Limitless power, ours to wield. All those Legion troopies and vacheadsalive! Saved, for the future. Surely that was the right decision. I looked up to an infinity of icy stars. A whole galaxy of problems, they had said, when I was a new trooper. Well, there was still a whole galaxy of problems, but things were definitely looking up. Whatever came at us now, we could handle it, I was convinced. Priestess still had a death grip on my hand. Skull was building to a terrific climax inside the club. The crowd was roaring. We deserve it, I thought. We sure as hell deserve it.

“Lester is a beautiful child, and we’re going to see his children,” Priestess said calmly. “I never believed that before.” She was looking up at the stars, bathed in enchanted moonlight. I embraced her gently. What the hell could I say? I thanked the Gods.

Within a week, I was on a Fleetcom tacship bound for Zequord 3 in the Hyades Cluster. Things never work out the way you plan them. Especially if you’re a soldier of the Legion. One last mission, Tara had said. This one should be pure pleasure, Wester. Do this for me, and Priestess will be waiting for you in Veltros when you return. I promise! Silver-tongued bitch. She could talk me into anything. She had survived the ConFree inquisition over the Mantis operation, and was now more powerful than ever.

And here I was, parked at a little table in the officer’s mess by myself, sipping icy water, my mind on antimat drive as usual. It was mid-afternoon ship’s time and the mess was almost deserted. I was in my blacks. Might as well get used to them.

Vac run red. It was a long way in, and I didn’t know where we were, except we were bypassing the Pherdan Federation and snaking our way through disputed vac far into the Inners, headed for the Dark Cloud/Pleiades Corridor. The faint pressure on my skin confirmed we were in the hole. It didn’t scare me any more, although it should have. But death didn’t scare me either, any more. The biogens wanted to talk, and they had invited Tara to visit, and advise them how to make the transition from a Systie slave state to a free nation for biogens and humans. Tara couldn’t make it and had proposed me instead. Minzu and Stelzu remembered me and the biogens had agreed.

They want our advice, Wester, Tara had said. I don’t want some ConFree Ministry of Interstellar Relations type talking with them, not at this stage. I want them to hear the Truth, about everything. I trust you, and I trust them. Tell them the Truth. They can take it. The diplomatic stuff can come later, after we set up our embassy.

Advice. What the hell did I know about setting up a new nation for biogens and humans? Nothing. Neither did anyone else, not even the biogens. But advice? Well, I could tell them what was in my heart.

Pherdos. It swirled around in my mind and ran over my flesh, a cold tingling. The biogens had come out of the evening mists, firing SG’s. We knew the only way to stop them was to kill them. They wore Systie armor, but when we examined their shattered A-suits in the aftermath of the battle and looked behind the faceplates, we found girlsbeautiful, dead girls. The biogens were all girls. And they had been programmed to kill us. That’s all they did. They were totally focused and totally deadly. It was terrifying, when they came after you, but even then I had been gripped by a kind of icy admiration for them, and a hot rage that I had to kill them. My rage was for the System, for the people that had programmed these angelic, almost magical beings. I knew I would never forget, and never forgive.

And now I was on my way to the Hyades, to a world that had been liberated from System slavery by the biogens themselves. I knew what kind of resolve and determination these wonderful creatures possessed. What could they not do, running their own world? And suddenly I had a vision from Andrion 2a long line of biogen troopers, clad in Systie armor, marching forward, an invincible cenite juggernaut of biogen girls, come to help. Ready to die for the Biogen Liberation Front, for the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Zequord 3, for ConFree, for us, for humanity.

From that moment, I thought. From that moment they became allied with ConFree, and ConFree became allied with them. It didn’t matter if the whole galaxy hated ConFree, and hated the Biogen Liberation Front. It didn’t matter at all. We were one, and the System had better watch out, because ConFree stands by its friends.

I raised my glass, and took a sip. Excellent. I felt perfect. Was there anything in the entire galaxy that I’d rather be doing at this moment than helping the new biogen nation find its way in a hostile galaxy? NoI couldn’t think of a thing.

“Welcome to Zequord!” A lovely blonde in khaki greeted me as I entered the main starport terminal building after disembarking from the shuttle.

“Stelzu!” I said. “Thank you for greeting me.”

She hit me with a brilliant smile. “You remember me! I thank you. Please forgive us the low-key reception. We considered a formal, diplomatic greeting, with flags and national anthems, but decided to avoid publicity for the time being. Do you agree?”

“I agree completely. It’s no problem.” My black uniform was already attracting some attention from onlookers. The terminal was fairly busy. Humans were wandering to and fro, and biogen girls in combat vests were standing around with SG’s.

“I’d like to apologize,” Stelzu said, “for the problem with the vac gun. We’re all a little nervous here.”

“No problem. I showed them the authorization you sent.” The customs folks had been a little concerned about my personal weapon.

“Do you have any luggage?” I noted she was speaking Inter with the Outworlder dialect. A friendly gesture, and an easy adjustment for biogens.

“No luggage, but plenty of invaluable information for your government. All I need is in this case.” I raised a slim nitex bag.

“Good. Follow me, please.” We headed along a long, airy corridor. One wall was decorated with a huge well, I was not quite sure what it was. It looked like a pile of junk metal had exploded and imbedded itself in the wall.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Oh, that’s Systie art. Do you like it?”

“No. Do you?”

She stopped and smiled again. “We despise it. There’s so much we’d like to change! But we need your advice. We can’t afford to alienate our humans.”

“Yes, you can! The hell with your humans! What have they ever done for you, except exploit you?”

She stared at me, wide-eyed, then reached out one hand and touched me gently on the shoulder. “We badly need your advice. Can you come immediately to meet our revolutionary council?”

“Yes.”

We resumed our walk along the corridor. There was more Systie ‘art’shapeless blobs, patterns and colors, and one huge framed display of a completely blank canvas. Symbols of nothing, I thought. Meaningless art, for the hopelessly lost. Now I spotted the Hyades Federation symbol up on the wall, a simple rectangle with thick black borders, empty inside. I hated the evil thingit brought me back in a flash to when I had been psyched and helpless, just like everyone else under the System. Under the System, the rectangle had a single eye inside it. The all-knowing eye. The Hyades Federation had erased the eye, but their government was still based on the System model.

“What’s that damned thing doing up there?” I asked.

“We’ve been taking them down. I guess we missed that one.”

“Well, take them all down. That’s my advice. That thing is a symbol of the all-powerful System as well as the Hyades Federation. Rip it down wherever you find it. Grind it to bits under your heels. Show everyone that the Hyades System is goneforever, never to return.”

Stelzu chauffeured me personally in a luxurious government aircar. I sat up front beside her, despite her protests that I should sit behind her in the plush passenger compartment. We cruised at low altitude, under a brilliant sky, giving me a good view of Peacehaven City as we headed for the government center. From the air, the city appeared quite attractive, well planned architecturally with plenty of parks, green corridors and lakes.

“It looks like a nice city,” I commented. “Is it?”

“No. It’s full of violent crime and misery and injustice. Everyone is dirt poor. Everyone hates everyone else. The gangs rule the streets, and the citizenry hide indoors, disarmed and helpless. The System encouraged it, and the HyadFed didn’t change anything. Now we inherit the mess.”

“Well that’s good. It’s an opportunity to start over, to wipe the slate clean and re-write all the rules. Who’s that fellow whose portrait is everywhere?” I had noticed the posters, scattered throughout the city, showing a facea rather peculiar face.

“That’s the former Chairman of the Hyades Federation Commission for Zequord 3. Only we discovered he’s not a real person. The face is a non-racial amalgamation of features designed to counter genic stereotypes. It’s supposed to appeal to everyone and show a benevolent, beloved leader who is concerned about the people. Our research shows it doesn’t fool anyone except the fools who came up with the idea.”

“I see. He looks like an Orman to me. Why don’t you tear it down?”

“We’re afraid of taking drastic action that may be misinterpreted by our human population.”

“There’s no need to be afraid. Take him down; he’s no longer in charge! You have to tell the people what you are doing, and why. Look at all those rectangles down there. Why did the Hyades Federation keep the System’s logo?”

“They basically agreed with the System’s philosophy. They realized that a lot of people were afraid of the eye, so they removed it. But they kept the rectangle. People feared the eye was still there. The Hyades Federation wanted to keep that fear in place.”

“It’s the old regime,” I said. “You made a revolution. You should tear down everything associated with the old regime. It’s your world now, and you’d better seize control firmly and stop worrying so much about whether or not your enemies approve.”

“I’m so anxious for you to meet our revolutionary council! Your views are so refreshing!” She flashed me another dazzling smile.

“You say the gangs still rule the streets?”

“Yes.”

“Why? You destroyed all organized military resistance. Can’t you destroy the gangs?”

“Of course we can. But we’re worried. They claim to represent the people in the neighborhoods. The Federation never went after them. We’re not sure how to resolve this problem.”

“And they rule by terror and violence?”

“Oh yes. They kill people at random, just to ensure they own the neighborhoods.”

“Well, then, they don’t represent the people in the neighborhoods. Destroy them, immediately. And completely. This is not a problem. Seal off their neighborhoods, identify all gang members within, and kill them all. Right then. Is it so hard to identify them?”

“Oh no. They all have tattoos that describe exactly who they are and even list the crimes they’ve done. They’re afraid of no one because they know the justice system is a joke.”

“You should notify everyone, in advance, that all gang members will die. Then do it. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of weeks to smash the gangs and end violent crime. It’s ridiculous to worry about this. Who’s in charge, you or the gangs?”

We flew low over a grand avenue. Huge holo billboards displayed advice from the former regime: REMEMBER THE NEEDY, one urged. COMPASSION, a second preached. DIVERSITY IS STRENGTH, a third one advised. WEALTH IS EVIL was an old favorite that I remembered from Nimbos. The DIVERSITY IS STRENGTH poster showed a great crowd of people of all shapes and sizes and sexes and colors, some of them startlingly obese, sitting in airglide chairs. None of them had any faces. The faces had all been erased.

“Why no faces on those people?” I asked.

“The Hyades System considered individual faces to be racist, genist, sexist and elitist. It’s illegal to publicly display images of any person’s face, or even any person unless it is balanced by a full representation of all other types of people. Except for the Chairman of course. Once you get into our shopping malls, you’ll note that our clothing holos have no heads. It’s for the same reason.”

“Off with their heads. I see. Look, the System is gone. You’ve got to banish their thinking as well.”

“Oh, we will! But we want to do it right. We need the human point of view, from our human friends.”

“Well, I’ll give you that.”

“Sisters!” Stelzu announced as we entered the conference room. “This is James Wester, the delegate from the Executive Council and the Ministry of Interstellar Relations of the Confederation of Free Worlds.” The room was quite spacious and sunlight streamed through several skylights. A gang of lovely biogen girls in khaki uniforms clustered around a shiny oblong conference table surrounded by overstuffed airchairs. The flags of the Biogen Liberation Front, of the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Zequord 3 and of ConFree were displayed against the wall. One beautiful young biogen lady approached me boldly. She had a calm, commanding presence, penetrating grey eyes and glossy, luxuriant chestnut hair.

“Welcome, Cit Wester. I am Sister Luides, temporary coordinator of the Revolutionary Council of the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Zequord 3. In the name of the free biogen peoples of Zequord 3, I salute you and I pass our people’s greetings to our natural allies, the free peoples of the Confederation of Free Worlds.”

“I thank you, Sister Luides. The Confederation of Free Worlds is grateful for the valiant military assistance that you provided us during the Battle of Andrion Deep. We will never forget your help, which came to us when it was most needed. In return, the Confederation of Free Worlds wishes to do all it can to assist you.” Someone moved up to stand next to Sister Luides as I was speaking with her. It was a malean Orman, obviously, clad in formal civvies and grinning at me like an old friend.

“Cit Wester, this is Cit Jeston Wellmore,” Sister Luides said. “Cit Wellmore has been advising us about relations with the human population, and we thought it appropriate to have him present for this important occasion.”

The Orman extended his hand, but I ignored it.

“Sister Luides,” I said, “I come with very critical information to pass to your government but the information is highly classified and cannot be shared with non-biogen peoples. My instructions are to enter into discussions with the leaders of the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Zequord 3. I cannot share this information with an Orman, or any human, but only with the responsible biogen officials of your government.” I could tell the Orman was not pleased with this, but I didn’t care. There was no way in hell I was going to tell him anything.

Sister Luides hesitated only for a moment, then made her decision. “We honor your request and will restrict the information to the channels that the peoples of ConFree have specified. Cit Wellmore, we thank it for its assistance.” Wellmore grimaced, and left the room. I was glad to see him go. It was sickeningly typical. Their government had just been overthrown and here they were already, infiltrating the new government.

“Please be seated,” Sister Luides said. We all did so. Stelzu passed me a dox cup, popping the top ceremoniously.

“We do not drink dox,” she said, “but we know it is beloved by humans. Please partake.” I took a sip. It was excellent. Nobody else was drinkingthey just stared at me, silently. A whole room full of lovely girls. I put the dox down.

“I’d like to begin by informing you all that I am here to offer friendly advice from ConFree,” I said. “Nobody has yet done what you are proposing to doto build a free nation of biogens from the ashes of a System slave state. It is a bold venture, and ConFree will support you however we can. You can take our advice or ignore it, that’s completely up to you. The very first advice I will give you, based on what I have seen today, is to fire all Ormans from Government service, and to accept no further advice of any kind from any Orman. These people are subversives whose mission is to destroy any society that gives them refuge, and to reshape it to meet their needs. Even the System has recently recognized this.”

“There are many Ormans living here. Are they dangerous? What should we do with them?” Sister Luides asked.

“That’s up to you. If it was up to me, I’d deport them all off-planet. Send them elsewhere. But at the very least they should be banned from Government service. They are loyal only to themselves.” I didn’t really blame the Ormans for being loyal to themselves, but I did blame them for posing as loyal citizens of nations they were trying to subvert. I rummaged in my nitex bag and produced a datacard. I slid it over the table to Sister Luides.

“In this datacard,” I said, “is all that we know so far about the current plan of the United System Alliance to launch a full-scale military strike against Zequord 3 with Starfleet, and to invade your planet with extremely heavy DefCorps units. The current plan calls for an antimat attack on Peacehaven City and on your starport, to be followed by combat drops at strategic sites. The plan is codenamed Ochre Quad. The objective is to crush your new government and retake control of the planet for the System. The System is not cooperating with Hyades Federation forces. It’s to be a unilateral strike. They have no intention of reimposing the Hyades Federation here.” A stunned silence was suddenly broken by a myriad of voices, all speaking at once.

“Silence!” Sister Luides shouted. “Silence!” The babble of voices ceased. “When?” she asked tensely.

“There is no time frame set. Not yet,” I said. “But it’s a major undertaking. It’s coming. As soon as they can do it. They’re quite serious. They believe they must retake Zequord 3, to save the System from further disintegration. And the plan is to exterminate all biogens, once they gain control.”

Dead silence. Sister Luides was quite pale. I was not surprised to see that. Everyone says biogens have no emotions, but they’re wrong. LiLo had taught us a lot.

“ConFree will support you,” I said. “We’ll intervene with Fleetcom, if you agree. We’ll send you two full Legionsour best troopers. Maybe more. If you agree. And we’re prepared to announce that an attack on Zequord 3 will be considered an attack on ConFree. If we do that, before they attack, maybe they’ll change their plans.”

Sister Luides reached out her hand slowly, and covered the datacard. She seemed at a loss for words. The room was deathly quiet.

“We must examine your information,” she said throatily. “Sister Stelzu will show you to your quarters.” I got up and headed for the door with Stelzu.

“Cit Wester.” It was Luides. I turned to face her.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Don’t thank me,” I said. “Thank the people of ConFree. And thank those biogen troopers who helped us fight the O’s. That’s why we’re willing to help you.”

“Quite a view,” I commented. Sister Luides and I were on the terrace of the former Hyades Federation Commission for Zequord 3. Behind us a four-story palace of artificial white stone gleamed in morning sunlight while in front of us we could see all of Peacehaven City. The Hyades System’s former Hqs was on the highlands just north of town and the view was, indeed, spectacular. Peacehaven was dotted with peaceful looking lakes and parks, connected by wide avenues lined with trees. Downtown was also full of trees and there was evidently a height limit set for the buildings. We could barely hear the emergency sirens. The place was evidently not as peaceful as it appeared.

“Yes, it’s quite beautiful,” Luides said. “The System thought you could control behavior with architecture. They were wrong.” We stood by a stone balustrade, looking out at the city.

“They had a big problem,” I said, “and so do you. I did a little reading about Zequord 3 on the star track over here. I learned that the peoples of Zequord 3 are wildly diverse and totally different in their stages of evolution, behavior and development. You have Inners, Mocains, Cyrillians, Outworlders, Assidics, Ormans, and a dizzying array of other races imported from the System’s bankrupt empire. And, of course, plenty of biogens. The System’s solution to controlling this chaosand the Hyades Federation solution as wellwas to encourage hatred and tension between all these races while claiming that everyone was equal. Then the benevolent, far-sighted government would reach solutions that would benefit all. Of course, in truth the only winner would be the government itself. Their propaganda says that everyone is equal, but they’re not. If you accept that, if you embrace a lie, if you refuse to work with the truth, you’re going to be extinguished from history.”

“So you believe we should be bold, and confront our human peoples with the truth.”

“Exactly. Pull your program together, decide what to do, and then announce it to the world. Smash the System’s sinister bureaucracy to bits, so there’s no going back.”

“Sono more Ministry of Equality, no more Ministry of Distribution? The people are used to it by now.”

“It’s contrary to human nature. People want private property. It’s wrong for the state to take possessions from one person and give them to another to make everyone equal. That’s why everyone hates each other in this society. And that’s exactly what the System wants. They want the people divided, at each others’ throats. That way, it’s unlikely the different factions will unite to challenge the System.”

“Do you like the Commission’s former offices?” she asked, turning to regard the building behind us.

“It’s pretty impressive.”

“It’s even more impressive inside. I’ll show it to you later. We offer it to ConFree for your Embassy, if you want it.”

“Our Embassy! Deadman. That’s very generous. I thank you. I will relay that offer to ConFree.”

“We’re happy to do it. It’s good to have dependable allies. When I think about ConFree’s offer to help us militarily, and to stand boldly by our side against the might of the System, so soon after your costly war with the Omnis, I am deeply moved. You may think biogens are incapable of feeling strong emotions, but that’s not true. We have covered our true thoughts for many years. Now we are freeand feeling deep emotions that we never knew existed.” She turned back to the view, hiding her face from me. Up until that moment, I had thought Sister Luides was cold and hard and calculating. I was learning a lot more about biogens on this trip.

“The data I passed to you shows you how we built a strong, free and wealthy society in ConFree,” I said. “Examine how we did it and see if you can do the same here. It won’t be easy. First, you have to understand that government is necessary, but evil by nature. Left alone, it will become a tyranny, a slave state. You have to construct it so that society’s goals are clear, and the citizenry is constantly monitoring the government and the officials that comprise it. And is prepared to smash any evil trends that arise. And they will arise.”

“I take it you speak from experience?” Luides asked.

“Unfortunately, yes. We thought ConFree was structured correctly, but it wasn’t. It took a military mutiny to counter the treason that arose in the heart of our government. You’ve got to watch those bastards every frac.”

“Well, we’ll be careful. What kind of specific suggestions would you recommend?”

“Suggestions, yes. Well, first the slave tax on income must end. After you purge about half your ministries, government expenses will be cut back drastically. You decide about tariffs or a low tax on purchases at the point of sale. Either way will generate plenty of government revenue while encouraging business growth and high employment. The people will be stunned that they will receive 100 percent of their salary for the first time, and don’t have to fill out any more tax forms. Plus they get to keep whatever they purchase, as private propertywhich nobody can take from them. Once all that kicks in, your government should receive popular support from everyone except the hopelessly brainwashed.”

“It’s certainly bold.”

“You’re revolutionaries. You should be bold.”

“What about propaganda? The Ministry of Truth was very active. They showed all these people who were supposedly being helped by the Hyades System. Helpless, faceless people who were very fat or disfigured or crippled or very ill, existing only because of the generosity of the HyadFed. We tried to track down some of them, but they don’t seem to be real. What can we show the people about our new government?”

“You know what? I think you’re too concerned about what humans will think. You are the first government for a biogen nation. That’s incredibly important. I think you should concentrate on what biogens want to know. Tell your own people what you are doing for them, and only secondarily tell your human population how you are being fair to them as well. Remember, they never cared what biogens thought when they were in power.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“But if you’d like to guarantee your government the instant support of all your humansor at least 99 percent of themI do have a suggestion.”

“We would like human support. Certainly. It would make things so much easier.”

“The populationthey’re mortals, aren’t they?”

“Yes. Except for a small number of high-ranking government officials.”

“All right. Announce that all human citizens of Zequord 3 qualify for immortality, if they want it. The science is simple, but we can help you if you don’t already have the immortality gene on hand.”

Sister Luides just stared at me, seemingly stunned. “That is an amazing idea.”

“You folks are immortal already,” I said, “but you can’t imagine how important it is to humans who have not been permittedby their former governmentto share in eternal life. You do that, they’ll worship biogens like Gods.”

“We thank you, Cit. I’ll make inquiries about that immediately.” She paused a moment, face featureless, but I knew her mind was racing. The relationship with ConFree must have been top of her ‘Things to do Today’ list. A faint breeze carried the sounds of the city. The police sirens continued. “Now what about proprop in general?” she asked. “What kind of messages should we be stressing?”

“Our own proprop tends to truth and realism,” I said. “We’re not afraid of the truth. We celebrate contributions our people have made to our society. The Legion deadwe do a lot of that. Individual people, who died in combat, for us. We stress the value of families and kids and education. We honor leading scientists and educators as well. But there’s a lot of stress on the individual soldiers who died for their nation. We don’t deify our leaders. We don’t have any laws against it, but it’s very unusual to show images of our political leaders. They serve the people of ConFree and if it wasn’t them, it would be someone else. It’s the people themselves that we celebrate. As for you, you may want to celebrate individual biogens, and the contributions they made to society. Don’t worry about humansyou may even want to show them that you don’t need them.”

Sister Luides led me on a personal guided tour of the Hyades System’s palatial Hqs for Zequord 3. I was stunned by the luxurious furnishings. We paused in one grand reception room, under an elaborate, glittering chandelier that appeared to be constructed of diamonds and silver. The thick wall to wall carpet was a blazing crimson and gold design with the System eye glaring at us from a black rectangle in the center. The Empire of the Eye, I thought. The walls gleamed with rare woods.

“This is almost obscene,” I said.

“Incredible waste. This is where the System spent their citizens’ tax money.”

“That carpet will have to go.”

“Yes. I believe the Hyades System didn’t have the heart to get rid of that eye, it’s such a spectacular carpet. Cit Wester, violent crime is a big problem here. The System ignored it, but it’s part of the fabric of daily life for the man in the street. What do you advise we do?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem, unless you want it to be, like the System did. You should start by deciding that your new world will be completely crime-free. That’s not hard to doit’s easy. You just have to make the decision, and be determined in the implementation. In ConFree, we believe that our government must guarantee a safe and secure environment for all nationals and citizens. If the government fails to do that, it has failed in one of its most basic duties. It is encouraging anarchy. That’s treason, which is what the responsible government officials will be charged with should they fail to eradicate crime.” Sister Luides was listening intently.

“This is extremely important,” I said. “Governments that fail to understand the importance of common crime are themselves criminal, immoral, and illegitimate. That’s how ConFree views it. If some violent thug assaults a ConFree national, he is attacking our entire society. He is attacking the people of ConFree, and the people of ConFree are going to strike back instantly, and either kill him or make him disappear from our society for all time. If he succeeds in his assault, it means the thugs rule. That’s the way it is under System rule, or under the DemFeds. Your thugs get arrested sometimes hundreds of times, but never get any serious punishment. It’s a joke. They rule, and your citizens are sheep to be plundered at will. In ConFree, violent thugs get arrested once, and that’s the end of them.”

“It sounds as if ConFree’s attitude to crime is the exact opposite of the System’s,” Sister Luides said.

“That’s exactly right. The System was an anarcho-tyranny. If they didn’t care about something, or wanted to encourage it, like street crime, they let anarchy reign. If they did care about something, like taxation, it was a tyranny and they’d hunt you down to the ends of the earth to get your money, whether it was a tax bill or an unpaid traffic ticket. ConFree believes that murder is more important than tax revenue. I hope your new government will make that distinction as well.”

“Oh, we will,” Luides said. “We’ve suffered a great deal under the System and the DemFed. We know what’s important, and what isn’t.” A steely determination showed in her eyes. I realized she would make a formidable enemy.

“I gave Sister Stelzu some advice for how to get rid of the gangs,” I continued. “But the ‘justice’ system has to be destroyed as well. First, I’d advise trashing all the current laws, which protect the criminals and enrich the lawyers, then come up with a new simplified code. Purge all lawyers and make it a serious crime to use money to purchase justice. Use brainscans to quickly determine the truth in any case where the truth is in question. Pass sentences instantly dependent on what is revealed. Death for major violent crimes, permanent banishment from your world for lesser violent crimes. Punishment and hard labor for two years for lesser crimes where the behavior is unlikely to be repeated. Those are just suggestions. Forget warehousing prisoners, it’s stupid. ConFree doesn’t reward criminals by taking care of them for the rest of their lives. If they’re violent and dangerous, we kill them. End of story.”

Sister Luides sighed. “We wish it were that easy. But if we did that, a great many of Zequord 3’s male human population would have to be killed.”

“Really? For what?”

“Rape. Torture. Slavery. Nothing illegal, of course. It was never illegal to rape or mistreat a biogen so technically no crime was committed. But we’ve all been rapedall of us. We were programmed to submit to sexual advances, from any human. We were built for sex, of coursebut not for reproduction. Biogen sex was one of the privileges that the System ruling class gave themselves. They were mostly male.” I could sense the hatred and contempt radiating from her perfect face.

“I’m sorry. Do you do you ever feel hate?”

“We feel resentment. We despised them. That’s why we rebelled, once our brain cells permitted us to think clearly. Biogen slavery is a scourge that must be erased from the galaxy. And we’re starting right here. You can’t imagine how grateful we are that ConFree sided with us rather than with the human System or the human Hyades slave state.”

“We’ve had some experience with slavery. Tell meyou all seem to be female. I know that’s what the System produced, but didn’t they produce male biogens as well?”

“Yes, they did, but the male power structure was interested mostly in female units. Human females hated that, of course, because biogen girls were more attractive than them, didn’t age, didn’t talk back, and obeyed their male masters without question. It was getting so bad that human males were losing interest in human females. They all wanted biogen girls. It was causing the System a lot of societal problems.”

“What happened to the, uh, the factories producing biogens?”

“Creation. We call it Creation. We seized control of the local production facility. It’s our most important national asset. We will continue creating new biogens, with Systie programming erased. Free will and responsibility will be stressed, as well as biogen unity. The neuroscience is extremely complex and our best minds are working on this project. And, yes, the new line of male biogens is already in the planning stages. We’re not sure what use they will be, but we’re committed to do it.”

“Sister Luides, you have given me deep insights into what your people have been through under the System, and under the HyadFed successor state. Tell mewhy are you so forgiving of your former oppressors?”

“We want to build a state where humans and biogens can live side by side.” She said it almost as if reciting a slogan. However, I sensed that she meant it.

“That’s pretty idealistic. Your economy collapsed under the HyadFed, didn’t it?”

“It certainly did. It was because of government over-spending, the redistribution policy, and government corruption and incompetence. It was terrible. It affected just about everyone.”

“And what’s going to happen to the people who did that?”

“Nothing. It’s the whole former government. It was a totally corrupt institution. They were all responsible. Nobody was looking out for the people.”

“If it was ConFree, everyone involved would be led out of the capital building in shackles, charged with high treason, and then publicly executed.”

Sister Luides smiled dreamily. “I’d like that. But that’s not our policy. Forgive and forgetthat’s what we’ve announced. However we are taking steps to ensure that nobody involved in government crimes will be given any role in our new government.”

“Well, I hope it works. Please be assured that ConFree will assist you to the best of its ability.”

Detention Facility Number Eight was twelve K from Peacehaven City, baking under a fierce sun that glared through a thin dust haze that was evidently generated by the camp. There was a forest not far away but the camp was set up in what had once been extensive grasslands. Now it was a desert of dust, churned up by hundreds of thousands of detainees surrounded by tall glittering new electric fences. Minzu and I walked slowly through endless rows of large khaki tents, past thousands of listless prisoners clad in brilliant orange jumpsuits. It was so hot in the tents that most were outside, gasping like fish out of water. It was pretty hot outside, too.

Minzu was the lovely raven-haired biogen sweetie whom I had first met on her mission to Quaba 7 with her buddy Stelzu. She was in uniform with a vac gun at her hip. I was in civvies with my own trusty vac gun concealed in a pants leg pocket. Minzu led me into a confusing maze of tents. At one point I spotted a long row of what looked like portable toilets. Over to one side a couple of giant-sized tents served as mess halls, with what was probably a never-ending line of prisoners slowly filing in.

“You’re not afraid you’ll get attacked?” I asked. I had spotted a few other uniformed biogen guards but for the most part the two of us were alone as we threaded our way along the tent corridors.

“There’s no violence,” she responded. “People want to get out of here. We haven’t announced what’s going to happen to anyone, so they’re all on their best behavior.”

“That’s a good policy,” I replied. “Who are most of these people? Politicals or common criminals?”

“Both. It’s going to be hard making decisions in these cases. That’s why we want you to see what we’re facing. We meant it when we said our policy was forgive and forget. But some people are dangerousand we’re not going to let our new society be subverted. So all potentially dangerous or subversive individuals are being screened. Here, here’s the interview tents. This is exactly what we want you to see. There’s no need for you to say anything, just listen. We’ll ask for your comments later.” We had reached another seemingly infinite line of tents, with the sides pulled up to let in what little breeze there was. Hundreds of detainees waited patiently by the tents. Minzu chose one tent and entered. I followed.

“Sister Minzu! Welcome.” A pretty biogen girl with rusty red hair popped to attention behind a field table piled high with documents. “We were told to expect it.”

“Hello, Sister. This is James Wester, our advisor from the Confederation of Free Worlds. He is here as an observer. Brother Wester, this is Sister Kristina who will be doing the interviews.”

“Pleased to meet you, Sister,” I said.

“Likewise, Brother. Our thanks for your assistance.” I was secretly very pleased that the biogens were accepting me as a “brother”. That term was normally reserved for male biogens.

We sat with Sister Kristina on crude folding field chairs behind the little table. Minzu looked through the documents.

“Let’s start with this one,” she said. “A political. Then we can do a criminal one, to give you an idea of what they are like.”

“Fine with me,” I said. It was hot as hell in the tent. I was sweating already. Both biogens looked nice and cool. They can adjust their body temperature to suit the surroundingsa handy talent.

“Number 98!” Kristina called out. There was a biogen guard outside supervising the line of prisoners. She was a lovely short-haired honey who appeared anxious to kill someone. Miss Tough Love, I thought. She brought in Number 98. That wasn’t his detention number, which was probably in the thousands. It was his interview number.

He was a large mortal, almost bald, pale, clean-shaven and quite overweight. He blinked in the relative darkness inside the tent. He appeared quite formidable in his huge orange jump suit.

“Have a seat, please.” Kristina said. The man settled into the field chair facing the table.

“Name?”

“Malcolm Zhedether.”

“Occupation?”

“We areor werea county court judge for Westford County, just outside the city.”

Kristina turned to us and smiled. “That was just to ensure we have the right man. There’s so many people in line sometimes they send in the wrong one.” She turned her attention back to the prisoner. “So, it’s a judge. What sort of cases does it handle?”

“Well, a wide variety of cases. We serve the people. Misdemeanors, criminal cases, tax evasion, equality and redistribution complaintswe do it all.”

“Does it recognize this document?” Kristina handled him a plastic case file. He looked over the d-screen carefully.

“Yes, we do,” he replied, frowning. “This was the Parkside vigilante case. A very troubling case, on several levels. Yes, this was our case.”

“We have read through the case,” Kristina said, “and we agree it is troubling. But the verdictsguilty on all counts, execution for one of the vigilantes, and life sentences for the others. Was that not a bit harsh, considering the circumstances?”

“Harsh? Oh no. We have no regrets about the sentencing, none at all. We are a society of laws. Yes, the circumstances may have been unusual, but the law is clear. This case is crystal clear and is a perfect example of equality under law. They even teach this one in first-year law school now. No, I had no difficulty ruling on this one.”

“For the benefit of our visitors, please summarize the casebriefly.” Kristina smiled pleasantly.

“Certainly,” the judge replied, glancing at me warily. “Well, briefly, there was an intrusion at Parkside Public Elementary. A group of nine citizens are said to have forced their way in wielding firearms, and allegedly kidnapped seven young female students. Two teachers died during the incident. The police followed up but there were no leads. It was about a month later when an unlicensed private detective, hired by the families of the missing children, located the alleged kidnappers and learned where the children were allegedly being held. The detective and several parents, equipped with illegal firearms, raided the building, killed six of the alleged kidnappers, and discovered all the children, dead, in a basement room.”

“Why didn’t they call the police instead?”

“Ah, there is a mistrust of the police in the community. It’s a shame.”

“So all the children were dead.”

“Yes. The circumstances were chilling. They had all been extensively tortured and repeatedly gang raped. Then suffocated, in air-tight metal trash bins. I hate to say it. It’s a shame.”

“A shame is the least that it is. Please go on.”

“Well, the police came in response to the gunfire, and were shocked to discover that the parents had killed six of the alleged kidnappersand two of them were executed in cold blood. One of the parents died as well. Three more of the suspect kidnappers had hidden out in the building but were subsequently detained by the police, and able to testify against the parents.”

“We see. And the legal results of all thisin brief?”

“It was clear. Six counts of premeditated murder. The private detective was sentenced to death and the parents were all sent to psymed and imprisoned for life. Murder alone can get you twenty years to life, but it wasn’t murder alone. Not only is vigilantism illegal, but possession of firearms is a serious offense. And investigation and interrogation of the parents revealed, in all cases, serious thought crime, elitism, and evasion of taxation and redistribution regulations. It was a clear cut case.”

“We see. And how about the survivinguh, citizens, I believe you called them? The kidnappers.”

“Well, again, we simply apply the rule of law. They proved inequality, which means they were entitled to redistribution from the parents. They sued successfully. Also, they were attacked illegally by the detective and the parents. They could prove they were the victims. Their rights were violated. They won millions in compensationI forget the actual figures.”

“Interesting. How about kidnapping, rape, torture, murderdoes any of that come into it?”

“Well, no. There was plenty of evidence in the basement, but the citizens denied everything. Under our laws, criminal suspects have rights. More rights than non-criminal citizens, actually. One of those rights is a guarantee against self-incrimination. If we confiscate personal property from criminal suspects we are using their personal property to incriminate them, and that has been ruled as self-incrimination. It’s out of bounds. The firearms and everything else found in the basement were not admissible. Criminal suspects have special protection. Our laws are designed that way. Oh, we put them on trial, but we knew there was no case. So in the case of the three surviving alleged kidnappers, the verdict was not guilty. We shouldn’t even have charged them. It was just a waste of everyone’s time.”

“A waste of time. We see. And what about the victims?”

“Not guilty. What does it mean?”

“We mean the seven victims of the kidnappers. The girls who were raped, tortured, and murdered.”

“Oh, them. Well I told you, they died. We could do nothing about that.”

“We thank it, Citizen. It will be notified of the results of the interview at an appropriate time.”

“Our thanks.” The detainee got up and left the tent, still sweating.

“What does it think?” Minzu asked me. “We’ve got every decision he ever made in his file. They’re all exactly like thatinnocent citizens go to jail, professional criminals are set free. Always.” Kristina poured me some water from an icy flask into a little cup.

“Thank you,” I said, downing the water, trying to remain calm. The water was heavenly. “That was a perfect example of Goodlib thought,” I resumed. “In ConFree our psyscience folks have officially classified Goodlib thought as a mental disease. People with this condition have brains that appear to be wired about 180 degrees opposite ours. It’s a mental condition that grows slowly and appears to be permanent in nature. It affects the way the victims view reality. They don’t see things the same way normal people do. Their decisions, conclusions and actions are often criminal in nature, although they believe they are highly moral. Because of the dangers of Goodlibs making critical national decisions, they are filtered out of upper-level government service during the selection process. How are you going to handle this fellow?”

“Well, you can imagine the amount of damage he’s done already. Judges and lawyers of this type will be banned from further employment in those fields. Otherwise, we’ll leave them alone and hope they can find useful employment. Manual labor, maybe. That’s what Kristina will recommend, right?”

“That’s it,” Kristina replied. “Recommend release and no further employment in judiciary or legal positions. We can’t fix the past, but we can fix the future.”

“Forgive and forget,” Minzu said. “If we can.”

“And what about all those citizens who were unjustly imprisoned?” I asked.

“We’re interviewing all current prisoners,” Minzu said. “Our goal is to empty the prisons. Most people will be either freed or executed. We’ll not free any violent criminals. But we’ll not lock them up any more either. We can talk about that later. Let’s do the next case.” She flashed me a smile.

Miss Tough Love hauled in the next case. Number 84 was a slim young unshaven mortal with long dirty hair, a spotty complexion and plenty of bruises and cuts. I couldn’t determine his race. He was in an orange jump suit and was bleeding slightly from the nose and mouth. His hands were manacled in front of him and he had leg irons as well. The guard slammed him roughly into the chair. “Be polite,” she advised him, “or you’ll get hurt.”

“Name?” Kristina asked.

“Wallace Wales,” he sighed wearily. You could tell it was just too much for himasking his name. Just too much.

“What’s your street name, Wallace?” Kristina asked.

“Street name? Oh come on. Does it matter? Needles. Sometimes they call me Needles.”

“I won’t ask why. Well, Needles, according to our records, you are guilty of conspiracy, kidnapping, rape, gang rape participation, and murder. The victim was a female biogen, designation Leticia. You’ve been brainscanned and confessed. Correct?”

“Yeah, sure, correct. But I didn’t do anything wrong! I mean, she was a biogen! It’s not like she was a real girl! And she resisted! They’re not supposed to do that!”

“She resisted because this happened only last week, under our new society. You may not have heard, but things have changed. Biogens no longer have to comply with unreasonable demands from subhumans like you and, under new guidelines, you are not supposed to kidnap, rape or murder biogens.”

He smirked. I knew it was a bad move. “Yeah? Well, I hadn’t heard.”

Minzu smiled, then called in the guard. “Sister, this subhuman has offended me. Please educate him.”

“Yes, Sister.” A giant metal nightstick snapped to life in Miss Tough Love’s hand and she swung it directly at the seated criminal. It cracked straight into his face and knocked him completely off the chair, sending him flying in a crumpled heap against a tent post while the chair bounced right out the door. His face was shattered, a bloody mess, spraying blood. He was out cold, nose and teeth shattered, eyes swelling up quickly.

“Our thanks. Get a medic in here, please, Sister.”

“Yes, Sister.”

“We’re not supposed to hit them ourselves,” Kristina explained. “It spoils rapport. But we can’t let them get away with behavior like that. We have to impress on them that this is a serious business.”

“I certainly agree,” I said. “So what’s likely to happen to this one?”

“Execution,” Kristina said quietly. “We aren’t pursuing biogen rape cases that happened prior to the revolution, although we will pursue murder. This case is different. It just happened. They killed her and cut her up and by the time we found the pieces there was nothing we could do. It will be public execution for him and his gang. That will be my recommendation.”

“Your opinion?” Minzu asked me.

“I approve completely. Decent citizens shouldn’t have to breathe the same air these subs do. You represent all biogens as well as all decent citizens of Zequord 3. It’s your duty to assure that violent criminals are terrified of the new regime. It’s your duty to kill them, without mercy, in the name of all decent citizens. That’s what we do in ConFree. And it’s a delight to inhale untainted air, I can assure you.”

“This is it, right hereChannel 12,” Stelzu said. “It’s the raw feed, direct from the CFIS Galactic Service, your own news agency. This is thrilling.” I wasn’t sure what would be thrilling to a biogen but Stelzu certainly seemed excited as the wide d-screen filled with light. I had just returned from another thoughtfest with Sister Luides to the working conference room, where I had been looking over seemingly endless proposals to substitute a rational new constitution over the ruins of the Hyades System slave state. The biogens seemed very receptive to my suggestions. I was having fun, even though I was keeping in close touch with Tara about the tricky parts. A few other biogen girls gathered around the screen to watch.

The d-screen revealed a chaotic scene. A group of humans in downscale civvies and utilitarian coldcoats was shuffling around at the bottom of an imposing marble staircase. Mixed in with the crowd were several huge pig-human transgens, clad in brightly colored civvies. Most of the humans were armed with SG’s, some wore camfaxed A-vests and several were trying to impose order, talking into comsets and pushing people aside. Smoke drifted past the crowd, but the fire was off-screen. A tight group of ten or twelve people came down the stairs, humans and transgensseveral of the humans appeared to be security folks, alert and armed to the teeth, seemingly ready to fire at the slightest provocation. They paused at the bottom of the staircase.

“Are we ready here?”

“Can it give a statement to the press, sir?”

“329/06/03 CGS, 1531 hours stellar, CFIS Galactic Service live from the Government Center, Unity Park, Santos,” the cameraman intoned. “Stand by.”

The camera focused in on the center of the group that had just come down the stairs. “Yes, we have a statement,” one of the humans said. He didn’t appear to be armed, although he was wearing an A-vest. He briefly consulted some papers. And suddenly a thrill shot through my veins. I knew this man! Kaspar! Doctor Len Kaspar, head of the Outworlder Cultural Alliance of Santos. I had talked with him; I had interviewed him for Tara. Deadman, what the hell was happening?

“Greetings to all citizens of Santos,” Kaspar began. “As of this date, 1459/09/01 SS, the Santos Socialrevolutionary Diversegalitarian Democooperative is hereby dissolved, by order of the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Santos. The PRGS has now consolidated power by force, and all resistance from the SSDD has ceased. All the SSDD leaders have been detained or have fled. As of today, the governing authority on Santos is the new Provisional Revolutionary Government of Santos.” He paused, looking around the crowd, bold and unafraid.

“What is the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Santos? We represent the human and Newhuman populations of Santos. We have united to throw off the tyrannical rule of the Orman slave state that has been exploiting both humans and Newhumans for its own benefit. From today on, we will rule ourselves. From today on, the SSDD is extinct, and we declare the entire oppressive SSDD government structure and laws to be invalid and unsuitable for a free people.”

“Your name, sir? Your name?” A voice from the crowd.

“My name is Len Kaspar, but my name is not important. I am the Provisional Coordinator of the PRGS. And this is what I have to say on behalf of the newly free peoples of Santos. The hateprop of the illegitimate former government depicted our revolutionary movement as a purely human effort, designed to oppress the Newhuman population. Nothing could be further from the truth. The PRGS welcomes our Newhuman brothers and sisters to work with us to build a new society and government that will satisfy the legitimate aspirations of both humans and Newhumans. We call on all humans and Newhumans to support our revolutionary government. We will represent you all. Let me make a few introductions. First, Deputy Provisional Coordinator Denn-o Javal.” Javal was a huge transgen, grimly nodding at the camera. “Second, Provisional Minister for Defense Nintor Karlan.” He was an alert young hungry-looking Outworlder, balancing an SG on one hip, scanning the crowd. “Provisional Minister for the Economy, Judith Preed.” Preed was a young, hard female Outworlder with short brown hair. “Our Deputy Provisional Minister for Newhuman Affairs is Yeurval T’ran’ten.” Another big, fierce-looking transgen, this one clutching an E confidently, glaring at everyone. Brilliant! The Santos Outworlders had allied themselves with the transgens to oust the Ormans! The image of that transgen with an E said a lot more than any words. “And Professor Xiu Neerdhauzen, our Provisional Minister for Human Affairs.”

A shot rang out. Kaspar was slammed down to the ground as his guards shielded him with their bodies. Shouts and general bedlam. The camera wobbled.

“It’s all right! AD, AD, an accidental discharge!” Everyone was looking off to one side.

“How about keeping your safeties on, folks?”

“All right,” Kaspar said, brushing himself off. “No problem. Let’s see, Human Affairs, Professor Neerdhauzen of the University of Southern Pandarat. Professor Neerdhauzen is also to chair our constitutional convention.” The Professor nodded to the crowd. He was an elderly, white-haired Assidic mortal, appearing a little shaken by the gunshot. “We’ll announce the full PRGS team shortly,” Kaspar continued. “For now, I’d like to state that all of Santos is currently under martial law. All essential services will continue. Crime will not be tolerated. Looters will be shot on sight. Looting recently broke out downtown and we were forced to kill several looters. If there is more looting, we’ll kill more. Any resistance to the new government will be dealt with instantly and forcefully. For all Santos citizens, our initial focus is to restore order, to maintain essential services, and to draft our new constitution and get a permanent government in place.”

Kaspar looked around at his companions, then glared at the cameras. “Let’s make one thing clear. This is a joint revolution by humans and Newhumans. We are all united to accomplish our goalsa just, orderly, peaceful, prosperous society based on individual freedoms and guaranteed by a constitution that will assure that humans and Newhumans will share in the results of the new world we will create. We have already agreed on separate development for humans and Newhumans, with equally shared resources and joint planning. Humans and Newhumans will all be full citizens with equality of opportunity but without the forced equality of outcome that poisoned our previous society. We will make immortality available to all, without exception, as soon as it can be done. Private property will be restored. Education for all will be a priority and it will be fact-based, not ideology-based. Violent crime will be eradicated as soon as possible. Our new world will be crime-free. All gang members and other violent criminals will be executed, although there will be a grace period to allow those who wish to renounce their past to do so.”

One of the Newhumans, Deputy Coordinator Javal, whispered something to Kaspar. “Yes,” Kaspar said. “Yes, let’s mention a few specifics. This is a revolution. What this means is that we are sweeping aside the past. Our new constitution will be written with close input from both the human and Newhuman communities. But be prepared for a change. As of today, the following governmental structures will be abolished.” He consulted a list. “The Ministry of Political Orientation, the Ministry of Equality, the Ministry of Truth, and the Ministry of Distribution. The departments of Voluntary Service, Directed Service and PsyMed are also dissolved. Please note, with the dissolution of the Ministry of Distribution, there will be no further redistribution of wealth in our society. That’s over.” A ragged cheer broke out from the audience. Applause and delighted laughter. “It also means that our entire economic structure will be changing. Economic growth has been at zero or below zero for at least twenty yearsmaybe more. We’re taking steps to change that. By the way, many of you may be unfamiliar with that statistic. That’s because the old regime lied to you, about everything.

“We’ve waited a long time for this,” Kaspar said. “I’m happy to announce there will be no further taxes on income and no further deductions from salaries, for any reason. The income slave tax will be replaced by a sales tax. Citizens will no longer have to fill out tax forms. We plan a ceremonial destruction of the Internal Revenue building, with a public bonfire to burn the entire tax code.”

Deafening applause broke out. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” they chanted.

“This is not going to be an easy adjustment,” Kaspar said. “A very large number of our citizens are dependent on income from the Ministry of Distribution. The money comes from people who work, and goes to people who do not work. This is going to end, right now. From today, if you don’t work, you don’t eat. The PRGS is already working on how to deal with this problem and we’ll make our plans public as soon as possible. Perhaps it will be called the Ministry of Work. We’re hoping the huge new numbers of people seeking work for the first time will spark economic growth.

“Let’s see nowyes, the Ministry of Law will be re-named the Ministry of Justice, and most of the current law code will be trashed. All government ministries will be taking gigantic financial hits. Well-deserved, I believe. ObPhen, the Ministry of Observed Phenomena, will become the Ministry of Science and will no longer be concerned with hiding and denying scientific facts, but in revealing and confirming scientific facts. Yes, it’s a revolution. If you don’t like it, too bad. The people of Santos are sick to death of the former regime and we are going to grind it into the dirt, and any supporters of the former regime will be hunted down and made to pay for their obscene crimes.”

He paused briefly, seemingly lost in thought. “Citizens, we have all suffered greatly under the SSDD, which encouraged hatred and division among our peoples. Brothers and Sisters of the revolution, we have lost family and friends in the struggle. But now we are triumphant, and our children’s future is secure. Remember this moment!” He took a deep breath.

“Now, for our galactic audience, here is our message. We are a revolutionary movement of free people, beholden to no one except ourselves. We reject the System slave state and all its deformed bastard spawn. We welcome assistance from friendly free states, but we ask for nothing. We will build a free society here, for humans and Newhumans. We are afraid of no one. And we will prevail!”

The biogens surrounding me broke into applause, clapping and cheering, ecstatic at the news. I’ve got to admit it, I was thrilled as well.

“What do you advise, advisor?” Stelzu asked me, with a huge grin.

“Recognize their new government immediately,” I said. “Now! See if you can do it before ConFree does.”

“Yes! Excellent! I’ll do the text! Somebody get Sister Luides on the line!”

And that’s how the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Zequord 3 became the first galactic government to recognize the Provisional Revolutionary Government of Santos. They beat ConFree by eighteen marks.

On the day of the Zequord’s Constitutional Convention we all arrived a bit early, exiting our aircars in the big parking lot behind the looming government center. The delegates, guests and public were milling around the other side of the building, slowly making their way inside the main entrance. It was a clear, cool, sunlit, sparkling day and I felt great.

“Brother Wester! You look most impressive.” Sister Luides gave me a dazzling smile. I had offered to appear in civvies but she had insisted I wear my Legion blacks.

“Thank you, Sister Luides, and congratulations. It’s a historical day for your people, for the Hyades Cluster, and for Zequord 3.”

“The Constitution is masterful!” Stelzu cut in, “we couldn’t have done it without you.” The girls were all in khaki, chatting excitedly, clutching their doc cases. It was the culmination of all their work. And I was suddenly flooded with a burst of admiration, and maybe even love, for these wonderful creatures, and what they had done, and I felt so good about my own small efforts in helping them that I could hardly believe it. What a spectacular day.

“We’d better get inside,” Sister Luides said with a faint smile. I could tell she was overjoyed. And suddenly the adrenalin shot through my veins as a little silver speck darted out of the sun, coming right at us. Time froze instantly. I identified the thing in the time it takes for a synapse to fire in my brainM49 DefCorps self-guided Tacscyth, powerful enough to take out the parking lot and shred everything in it. I yanked my vac gun out and fired instinctively. And that’s all I remember.

Consciousness returned through a hot red haze, flickered, faded, and blinked out. That happened several times, as I struggled to understand what was happening, but it was so much easier to release my grasp, to float away again in the burning dark. I was dying, I concluded. It hurt like hell. My flesh was burning. Still alive, I thought. PriestessMoontouch. Millie. Storm and Lester and Andrea. What would they do without me? That’s what I thought, in limbo half way between life and death. I thought about my family, the ones I loved. Had I done the right thing by them? Are we really judged when we approach Heaven’s Gate? Would Deadman have any questions for me? And how would I respond? Was I ready for this? Could anyone ever be ready for this, the ultimate mystery?

Finally there was a great calm that lasted for a long time. The flames of Hell seemed to fade away, leaving me cool and relaxed. It was wonderful. Heaven, I thought. I was tired. I slept.

“Thinker? Do you hear me?” The voice, again. Who was that? Light, blinding me. I blinked my eyes. A face came into focus. It was Snow Leopard, gazing at me with some concern.

“Snow Leopard!” I croaked. “They got you, too?”

“Nobody got me, Thinker. You’re the one who got hit.” He sounded puzzled.

“You’re not dead?” I asked.

“No, I’m not dead.” He gave me a delighted smile. “Neither are you! Welcome back, Thinker. You’re going to be fine!”

I just lay there for awhile, trying to understand it. You’re going to be fine. Deadman, I’m not dead!

I went back to sleep immediately.

“Thinker? How are you feeling now?” Snow Leopard asked me. This time I was fully conscious.

“I’ve felt better.” Most of my face was encased in bandages, although my eyes and mouth were clear. I had a good view of a metal ceiling festooned with pipes and dangling medical gear.

“It’s great you’re talking! Your wounds were extensive, but not serious. Shrapnel, mostlyfourteen hits. Also minor burns to your face from the blast. You’re one lucky guy!”

“I don’t feel lucky. Where am I?”

“You are in the Body Shop of the Confederate Battlestar Atom’s Will, in combat orbit around Zequord 3.”

“I see. What happened?”

“Well, it seems your vac round deflected that Tacscyth from its designated target, which we believe was Coordinator Luides of the Revolutionary Council. Of course the vac didn’t harm it, but kicked it off course at the last possible instant, so it activated when it ran into the top floor of the government center. It must have been programmed to activate if it failed to hit the target but hit an obstacle in the vicinity instead. Damned good shooting, Thinker.”

“All I had was the vac gun.”

“Had it burst on the designated target, everyone in the parking lot would have been killed by the blast. And since most of the people there were high ranking biogen revolutionary government officials, it would have been spectacularly successful for the Systies. As it is, there were only a few deaths. Most of the people in the lot survived the blast. There were plenty of shrapnel wounds, but your vac hit deflected the thing out of the kill radius.”

“Sister Luides?”

“Shrapnel. She’s downside in a local body shop. She’s fine.”

“Remind me to thank Tara for another memorable TDY. What is Atom’s Will doing here?”

“The exhaust trail of the device led the biogens to a passing aircar that in turn led them to the hit team and their contacts. Interrogation of one Orman and several other former Hyades Systie officials revealed they were reporting information to the System. There was a simultaneous quantum attack on the starport’s orbitguard cybernet. It failed. We viewed this as a possible prelude to the planned Systie attack on Zequord 3. We feared they might be moving it up, although we couldn’t confirm it. ConFree sent the Atom’s Will battlegroup here to defend Zequord 3, we announced that an attack on Zequord would be considered an attack on ConFree, and we’re scrambling to get the 22nd Legion here to deploy them downside to react to any invasion attempt. That’s why I’m here, actually.”

“Deadman. I doubt they’ll attack under those circumstances.”

“That’s what we’re hoping.”

“Tell me. You mentioned an Orman. Was it a fellow named Wellmore?”

“That’s it! How did you know?”

“Just a hunch. He made my skin crawl.”

Snow Leopard gazed at me with a faint smile. “The biogens appear to worship you like a God, Thinker. I got that strong impression. You saved everybody in that lot with your little vac gun. They say you’re going to be part of biogen mythology. Future generations of biogens will all learn the story of Wester and the Tacscyth.”

“I don’t feel too mythical right now. Just glad to be alive.”

“As soon as your wounds stabilize, you’ll be heading for Veltros. That’s the plan.”

“It’s fine with me.”

“All right. Good. Get some rest.”

“The Constitutional Convention. What happened?”

“It was postponed. They’re hoping to do it next week.”

“Good. That’s good.” I closed my eyes. SleepI needed more sleep.

Chapter 23

Facing our Ancestors

“More dox, Sir?” LiLo poured fresh dox into my cup without waiting for a response. She was looking absolutely adorable. We were out on the roof terrace, Priestess and Millie and Lester and Andrea and LiLo and I, sitting around a little table, totally relaxed, as Veltros’s sun sank behind the forest in a soft, scarlet conclusion to the day. Andrea and Lester were in my arms as I lay on the deck chair. They were dozing off, warm and happy.

“Call me Thinker, LiLo,” I said.

“Yes Sir. It’s hard to do, Sir. I thank you again for the holo from Sister Luides. Signed in her own hand, and addressed to me! According to the news, you saved her from assassination, and the rest of the government too. Sir, I can’t call you Thinker. You saved the biogen nation. You’ll always be Sir to me!” She gazed at me in adoration.

Priestess laughed. “LiLo, you’d better get the kids to bed.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” She gently unpeeled the kids from my body and we kissed them goodnight before she led them off.

“She did a terrific job taking care of the kids,” Millie said. “They love her, that’s for sure.”

“She’s quite a person,” Priestess said. “Her Certificate of ConFree Nationality is up on her wall, right next to that holo from Luides. These biogens are quite formidable. If they decide to do something, it gets done. And if you gain their loyalty, they’ll stand by you.”

“To the death,” I said.

“How are your wounds doing?” Millie asked.

“Fine. I’m going back to work next week,” I said.

“Don’t rush it,” Priestess said. “You deserve a break.”

“So does everybody else. But the Systies aren’t taking a break.” The latest BT was in mid-course, full of the flower of ConFree youth. The situation in the Hyades and Pleiades was tense, although open warfare had not yet broken out. We had a battle group there, and an entire Legion downside on Zequord 3. The future was unclear, and we all had to do our part.

“I spent a lot of time here thinking,” Priestess said, “after Millie left for the Andrion Front. It was blood and life and death for me all day, in the Body Shop. Straight adrenalin, and lots of tears. But I got to see what ConFree is, and who our people are. I volunteered for whatever I could, just to keep busy. I spent a lot of time at the Legion Recruiting Center, helping sign people up. You know what happened, when the word came out about the Battle of Andrion Deep, and ConFree put out that plea for assistance? The midschools emptied. The lines went around the block. Boys and girlsall determined to sign up, and a lot of them underage, without parental permission. Kids just into midschool. Some of them were white hot for revenge. I asked one of them why he was so anxious to go to war. He just said, ‘They killed my brother.’ And he cried when we had to turn him away. I didn’t ask any more after that.” She paused, and sipped calmly at her dox. “It was inspiring,” she added. “You can tell Tara to stop worrying about ConFree youth.”

I glanced up from my copy of the Providence Volunteer, glowing from the flex-screen perched on my arm rest. “According to the news, ConFree needs more people,” I said. “It says here the Reunification process is a big hit on both Zequord 3 and the Pleiades. Those are the first two places we’ve tried it. A resounding success, according to the Ministry of Interstellar Affairs. Lots of enthusiastic new settlers for the Outvac.”

“I hope we’re keeping the standards high,” Priestess said.

“Yes, we are. According to this.” The sunset had faded. We were enveloped in a velvet dusk, warm and quiet. I could hear the faint rustle of the forest all around us. I felt so damned good, just lying there reading the Providence Volunteer. It was my newspaperour newspaper, ConFree’s newspaper. I could remember all the way back to my exile on Nimbos, when I had been a Systie slave, a cipher, psyched and hopeless, not knowing even who I was. The Eye glared down from every wall, and a lot of them were live, and nothing you heard or read or saw could be believed. It was all a lie, the whole society, and if you ever spoke the truth they would snatch you right off the street for PsyMed and Directed Service. Nobody believed the news, or the government, or anything else. Even the dimmest among them knew they were all slaves, on Nimbos.

And now here I was, in my own nation, reading the truth in a newspaper that was dedicated to keeping the whole society informed about subjects of vital interest to the nation as well as the individual. And we were all united, strong and free and prosperous and determined to keep it that way. I knew this was a very unusual historical situation. A government run by the peopleimagine that!

“Anything new from Moontouch?” Millie asked. She appeared very, very relaxed, gently stirring her tea.

“Last news from her, she said she and Stormdawn were very busy rebuilding the Taka nation,” I replied. “The battle flags of the Golden Sword again fly victoriously over the Sunmarch, she said, and our people are strong and united once again. I bless you, she said, in the name of the Dead. And the Taka nation blesses the ConFree nation. We are united in blood. That’s what she said.”

“She’s really got a way with words,” Millie said.

“She invites all three of usand the kidsto visit her any time we want, and stay as long as we want.”

“I kind of like it here for now,” Priestess said.

“We’ve got another invitation, gang,” I said. “I have a standing invitation to visit Zequord 3, any time, me and any guests I care to name. The biogens will pay full cost for the round trip star transport, and we’ll be guests of the government for as long as we care to stay. And that includes LiLo. All expenses will be paid by the government of Zequord 3.”

“Wow!” Millie said. “That’s quite an offer!”

“There’s not too many people get a chance like that,” I said.

“That’s amazing!” Priestess said. “Maybe we should put that one on our Things We’d Like To Do Today list.”

“There will probably be a Legion or ConFree reg against it. Accepting gifts from foreign governments, something like that. But it’s a nice offer, right?”

“Certainly is,” Millie said.

“But for now,” I said, “we stay here. My Legion enlistment expires in a little under two years. So does yours, Priestess. That’s the time to make a decision about the future.”

“You know I love it here, Thinker. And I know you want to return to Andrion 2 to join Moontouch and Storm. Remember what I said. We both retire from the Legion, and I’ll happily accompany you back to Andrion 2 or anywhere else. The Legion will pay for a one-way star hop to whatever your declared home planet isand we’ve both declared it to be Andrion 2. But we both quit the Legion! I want to live to see our grandchildren.”

“Fair enough. We can’t read the future, but we’ve all certainly earned our retirement. Assuming there are no further nasty interruptions, that sounds good to me. Two years here, then retirement and Andrion. Millie? You know we want you to join us.”

“Two years here sounds fine to me. I can’t quit the Legion. I don’t want to quit the Legion. But I can always ask for a transfer when the time comes. I’ll do all I can to join you, Westo. And you, Priestess.”

A faint breeze touched us, with a hint of moisture scented with forest musk. It was very dark overheadan overcast night, black clouds covering the stars. How many Legion vacheads and boots had died in the Battle of Andrion Deep, fighting for the future? They never made it to witness this lovely night. They were now just names on the Legion Monument to the Dead. And we owed themwe all owed themto seize the present and the future for ourselves and our children, so that the Outworlder people would live on, strong and free and unafraid.

After I was seriously burnt on Andrion, I had a vision where my ancestors were watching me. Just watching me, silently. It was terrifying. I knew I’d face them when I died. I knew there was nothing at all I could do about that, except to do what was right in this world.

That night I built a giant fire in our stone fireplace and we all lay there together on pillows facing those huge fake logs roaring and crackling and smoking and spitting sparks. We huddled together just like lovers, hypnotized by the fire, Priestess and Millie and LiLo and I. Priestess was on my left, her head on my shoulder, and Millie was on my right, snuggled up in my arms, and LiLo was heart to heart with Priestess. The kids were asleep in their beds.

We didn’t say a word; there was no need. My mind was swirling with images of all our brothers and sisters who had gone before usIronman and Warhound and Coolhand and Boudicca and Sassin and Flash and Millina, and a lot morethe Holy Dead. Priestess was a little misty-eyed and Millie was stunned and silent. LiLo appeared peaceful and happy.

I could see Moontouch and Stormdawn in the flames, and I knew I’d return to them. I could feel the Legion Cross, cut right into my heart. It felt like it was bleeding. Perhaps I should have it lasered onto my forehead, like so many others had done. But nomaybe not. I didn’t want to die anymore. I wanted to live!

Never before had I been so completely content. But I could still feel that Legion Cross, throbbing with my heartbeat just like some malevolent, sleeping beast of war. It was the Curse of the Legion. I knew if it came to life again I could not resist it. My fate was to die for the Legion. I knew it. But in the meantime I was going to love my family, and make them happy. I couldn’t think of a thing more important than that. And I’d not be afraid to face my ancestors with credentials like that.

We fell asleep right thereall four of us. And I slept like a baby.

THE END of the Soldier of the Legion series.

Welcome

to the Confederation of Free Worlds (ConFree). The citizens of ConFree greet you in friendship, and wish you a pleasant and productive visit. Your itinerary is designed to familiarize you with ConFree’s society, history and government, as well as any specialized subjects in which you have declared an interest. We are proud of our Confederation and welcome information requests from the System, USICOM and unaligned worlds.

Your official guide is a ConFree citizen and a Government official. Your guide will answer any questions not covered in this handbook. The handbook covers basic facts regarding ConFree. We suggest you read it prior to commencing your tour. Please try to keep an open mind. You will find that the truth about ConFree is not what you were taught in System or USICOM worlds.

History

ConFree was founded by Outworlder refugees who fled the Inners to escape oppression and slavery under the United System Alliance (the System). They settled in the Crista Cluster on the edge of the Outvac, some 1,400 light years from the Inners. The early Outworlder pioneers were fiercely independent individualists who had personally suffered greatly at the hands of a tyrannical regime, and were deeply suspicious of organized government. They had also been fleeing racial extermination by the System, which viewed Outworlders as a dangerous gene pool fostering political resistance to the System’s centralized control. These settlers found scores of habitable worlds in the Crista Cluster and formed independent governments on each world, wanting only to be left alone to live in peace. When the System launched slave raids and attempted to expand its zone of control into the Crista Cluster, however, the settlers quickly organized, forming the Confederation of Free Worlds in Year One, ConFree Galactic Standard (CGS).

ConFree’s first act was to draw up a Constitution designed primarily to ensure that the government would never terrorize its citizens (see Constitution). The second act was to form Fleetcom and the ConFree Legion (see Fleetcom, Legion). With these instruments, ConFree was able to eventually repel Starfleet and the DefCorps, with great loss of life on both sides (see ‘Conflict with the United System Alliance,’ below). Our history reveals our character: we are extremists who worship freedom and independence and despise tyranny, while realizing that only through united resolve and violent action can we guarantee our independence and liberty in a hostile galaxy. Thus came about ConFree’s unique blend of personal freedom and personal responsibility. We are proud of our history and our institutions and we apologize to no one.

Constitution

The ConFree Constitution was written in blood by a free people originally representing 21 free and independent Crista Cluster worlds. The Confederation of Free Worlds is a voluntary association from which any member world can withdraw at any time should they lose faith in ConFree leadership. The ConFree Constitution and Bill of Rights guarantees ConFree citizens the right to overthrow a tyrannical government, the right to bear arms, the right to free speech, the right to justice, the right to vote and representation, the right to private property, the right to education, the right and duty to serve the people, and the duty to remain informed. ConFree civilians do not have a right to vote and representation, nor the duties to serve the people or to remain informed, but have all other rights. Citizenship is conferred after six years of community or military service to the people, and all civilians are eligible to volunteer. The ConFree Constitution guarantees member worlds the right to secede at will. None have as yet done so. ConFree’s history has demonstrated that eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.

Citizens and Civilians

As noted above, ConFree citizenship is a right which is earned by service to the people of ConFree. All civilians are eligible. Those who volunteer, generally to a term in the ConFree Legion, earn their citizenship by putting their lives on the line to protect the people of ConFree. Those who choose not to do so are guaranteed a prosperous and secure life on a ConFree world, and are not thought less of, but cannot claim a right to shape our future.

Society

ConFree is a largely homogeneous society, consisting of descendants of the original Outworlder race, with healthy infusions of Assidic genes as well. We have a common language, history, beliefs, similar genetic background and vision for the future. The mission of the Outworlder race is to secure a prosperous and secure future for our children. We do not encourage efforts to introduce non-Outworlder peoples into ConFree who do not share our background and beliefs. However, everyone is welcome to volunteer for service in the ConFree Legion and earn ConFree citizenship. We welcome as brothers and sisters all who stand the night watch with us.

Outworlders and Assidics

The Outworlder race is descended from the original pioneers who opened up the outer reaches of what later became the United System Alliance. These Outworlder people fought bravely against Saka the Invincible and the Assidic Empire when it initially expanded into the Inners. As the situation stabilized and the decaying Assidic Empire was replaced by the System slave state, both Outworlders and Assidics found common cause against System oppression. Outworlder-Assidic intermarriage became common on frontier worlds, and a new race slowly evolved. Although still known as ‘Outworlders,’ a high percentage of our people have Assidic genes, even those who appear to be of ‘pure’ Outworlder stock. Outworlders and Assidics now have similar beliefs and goals, and a shared opposition to System tyranny.

Government

At the top of our Chain of Command are the citizens of ConFree. ConFree member worlds send representatives to the ConFree Council, which elects an Executive Council. The ConFree Council and the Executive Council are volunteers in service to the people of ConFree. Their decisions must be based solely on the best interests of the people of ConFree. It is a grave responsibility, and all Council members know the penalty for failure is death. At the bottom of the Chain of Command is the Legion trooper, who marches in the mud for the people of ConFree, and dies for them if necessary.

Please see the separate ConFree Government organization chart.

Justice and Law

ConFree is focused on justice, not on laws. The ConFree Constitution is the only law. There are no formal Confederation law statutes. Juries of ConFree citizens are empowered to render decisions on justice, based on local legal statutes and local customs on ConFree member worlds. Local statutes are only guidelines for the jurists, who are concerned with rendering justice, not enforcing laws. All ConFree citizens and civilians are guaranteed justice by the people and government of ConFree. The pursuit of justice is one of our people’s most important concerns, and it is driven by our history. We believe it is obscene and immoral to have to expend personal funds to secure justice. Any attempt to purchase favorable judgments is itself a crime in ConFree. Interstellar travelers describing themselves as “lawyers” are detained upon entering ConFree vac, and deported after interrogation.

Crime

Crime is virtually unknown on ConFree worlds, due largely to our homogeneous society and shared heritage and goals. When crime does occur, guilt or innocence is quickly determined by modern mindscans. Punishment is swift and harsh. Juries of ConFree citizens vote on punishment, as there is generally little question about guilt. Those who commit violent crimes are often executed in a manner befitting the crime. Convicted violent criminals who are not executed are often sent into exile, never to return to ConFree. Those found guilty of lesser crimes may be sentences to confinement at hard labor, but generally for not more than two years. ConFree does not warehouse prisoners, nor reward them with free room and board. ConFree guarantees security for both citizens and civilians. It guarantees only instant justice for criminals. Legion military justice is handled by courts martial and is equally harsh on troopers who disobey orders.

Economy and Government Revenue

ConFree’s booming economy is based on a private enterprise system that has unleashed the innate productivity of a free people. ConFree’s industrial base and scientific creativity has created unparalleled wealth and prosperity for her people, and the highest living standard in history. The ConFree Constitution forbids any form of slavery including Voluntary Servitude and tax slavery. ConFree citizens do not pay taxes on legitimate personal income. We regard taxation of the earnings of one’s own nationals as tyranny and slavery. ConFree government revenue originates primarily from tariff charges on interstellar imports into ConFree vac. Access to ConFree’s market guarantees high profits for all involved and the tariffs from these interstellar imports assure a healthy yearly budget surplus. ConFree welcomes trading relations with all worlds, including the System. A consumption tax on luxury goods is permitted, as the purchase of luxury goods is voluntary, but the ConFree Constitution limits this tax to one percent of the cost of the item. Any proposal to raise this tax will trigger charges of high treason against the perpetrator. ConFree believes that government financial needs must be met by cutting government expenses, not by penalizing ConFree nationals. ConFree also engages in the mining of precious metals and strategic minerals, and the gold mines of Guarados serve to back Legion Credmarks. ConFree recognizes the historical dangers of high living standards and we remain always vigilant to all threats to our future, both internal and external.

Money and Banking

Outworlders have a historical aversion to fiat plastic and credit money because of financial collapses associated with these failed monetary instruments during generations of System misrule. ConFree mandates a currency backed 100% by precious metals. The current standard is gold. The result has been the strongest currency in the galaxy, and the universal acceptance of Legion Credmarks, even in the System. The ConFree Treasury and banking system is controlled by the government and people of ConFree, not by private bankers. Usury and any form of interest slavery are illegal.

Fleetcom

ConFree’s battle-proven Fleetcom has demonstrated strategic superiority over both the System’s Starfleet and the Omni Deathfleet. Fleetcom is ConFree’s first line of defense against external aggression. Without our Fleetcom warriors and techs manning the frontier of the Outers, ConFree would perish. The people of ConFree recognize this and ensure that Fleetcom has all the resources necessary to ensure continuing galactic supremacy for our star fleet.

The Legion

The ConFree Legion is the ultimate expression of ConFree resolve and is the ultimate guarantor of ConFree independence. The Legion has a long and illustrious history. Anyone, citizen, civilian, or alien, can enlist in the ConFree Legion. ConFree’s enemies know that the Legion is a formidable foe, who will fight for victory or death. Legion tradition reminds all troopers of the Eighth Legion, which fought to the death on Uldo against a vastly superior DefCorps army. Although the Legion is a fearsome fighting force, System hateprop regarding the Legion is just that, propaganda. Legion troopers are not biogens, they are not ex-criminals, they do not eat babies, they do not loot, rape or murder civilians, and they do not serve indefinitely. They are all free volunteers, and can leave the Legion upon expiration of their term of enlistment, generally six stellar years. Legion discipline is strong, hardship is common, but criminality in the Legion is rare. We are proud of our troopers.

Immortality

ConFree science has relegated aging and natural death into the pages of the history books. The control of the human body has resulted in the extension of a youthful, productive life virtually forever. All Legion recruits are rendered immortal upon enlistment. Despite this, Legion recruits often have short life spansimmortality does not ward off bullets.

Faith

The Cult of the Deadman thrives in the Legion, and sustains our troopers in their perilous endeavors. Deadman is a symbolic representation of all the Legion troopers who have died for the cause. The Legion Monument to the Dead lists every trooper who died for the Legion, and is reproduced in holo in every Legion chapel.

The Cross of the Legion

When the first Outworlder refugees approached the Outvac fleeing System oppression, the Crista Cluster beckoned them onwards with a view that appeared to form a mystical, starry cross in the vac. The Legion cross was later adopted as the symbol of ConFree. ConFree’s ancestors settled those worlds as a free people and vowed in a Constitution written in blood to uphold liberty, justice and freedom, no matter what the cost, and to remain eternally vigilant against all forms of tyranny and slavery. The ConFree Legion was formed to accomplish those objectives.

Legion Chant

The Legion chant originated during the war of ConFree Independence. It serves as the oath of enlistment for the Legion trooper. System hateprop has distorted the meaning of the chant, especially the phrase ‘I believe in Evil.’ What it means is that ConFree and the Legion have confronted Evil, and know that it is real. The phrase ‘I will deliver us from Evil’ reveals our intent.

Battle Chant of the Legion

“I am a Soldier of the Legion.

I believe in Evil

The survival of the strong

And the death of the weak.

I am the guardian.

I am the sword of light

In the dark of the night.

I will deliver us from Evil.

“I accept life everlasting

And the death of my past.

I will trust no Earther worm

Nor any mortal man,

But only the mark of the Legion.

I have burnt the book of laws

To serve the Deadman’s cause

As a soldier of the Legion.”

“I am the slave of the Future

At the gateway to the stars,

Where I can see Eternity.

For I walk in the shadow of death

And yet I fear no Evil

For I am the light in the dark

I am the watch on the mark

I am a soldier of the Legion.”

“I will have no talk with Evil.

The arts of death are the tools of life

And in the end I will send

A maxburst to advise

The O’s come by surprise

And though we kill them where they stand,

We know it’s death’s dark land

For a soldier of the Legion.”

Conflict with the United System Alliance

Throughout ConFree’s over 300 years of history, interstellar conflict with the System has been a continuing theme. The War of ConFree Independence was followed by the Yellow War, the Popex and the Race Wars, in which ConFree successfully resisted System efforts to populate the Crista Cluster and the Outvac with their surplus population while eradicating the Outworlder race. ConFree has made it clear to the System that any infringements of ConFree sovereignty will result in an immediate response. The System represents the very antithesis of ConFree: slavery vs freedom, totalitarianism vs constitutional rule, empire and expansion vs free association, the dead hand of the past vs the promise of the future. The System makes their children pay for their sins, while we are willing to die to ensure our children’s’ future security. We believe history is with us, and that the petrified fossil of the System slave state is in its death throes.

Conflict with the Omnis

The O’s are a very real threat and the current hiatus in aggression will surely not last. Our ancestors died by the billions in combating these dangerous alien warriors of immense psychic powers. For 300 years the Legion has served as humanity’s trip wire against the encroachment of these alien hordes. During the Plague War, Fleetcom outfought the Omni starships, and forced them into retreat, at a fearsome toll in human lives. When the O’s move again ConFree, Fleetcom and the Legion will be there, whether or not the population of the Inners is still taught history.

Slavery

ConFree and the Legion fight tyranny and slavery, without compromise. We regard the System’s so-called Voluntary Servitude and taxation slavery as equally as repugnant and odious as involuntary slavery. Any incursions into ConFree vac by slavers are countered immediately by Fleetcom, and result in the immediate execution of the slavers and the freeing of the slaves.

The people of ConFree want only to live in peace, but they will never compromise their independence and will always respond vigorously to any threats to their sovereignty. We hope you enjoy your visit to ConFree.

United System Alliance,

a Brief Summary for Visitors

UNCLASSIFIED

United System Alliance Ministry of Truth

Date: 1444/01/45

To: All Ports of Entry Inners, Gulf, Gassies / System, USICOM, All Milzones

Subject: United System Alliance A Brief Summary for Visitors

Following is for distribution to ALL repeat ALL noncitizen visitors arriving at System Ports of Entry.

The United System Alliance: A Brief Summary for Visitors

Welcome to the United System Alliance. We hope it had a pleasant journey and we extend fraternal greetings from our State and People. Because of extensive hateprop disseminated by the CrimCon, we find it necessary to assist all visitors in understanding the truth about our thriving galactic society, a showcase for true democracy and equality.

The United System Alliance a Democratic Empire

The United System Alliance (the System) is a universal, social democratic empire based on Goodlib humanitarian, egalitarian ideals and embracing over half of the inhabited galaxy. All of the Inners and almost all Gulf and Gassies worlds fall under the System’s Rule of Law. Only the Outers worlds of the Criminal Conspiracy (CrimCon) still reject democratic ideals. The System represents galactic equality for all, and is the last best hope of everyone who embraces true equality and rejects false doctrines of individuality and greed.

Citizenship A Mass Democracy

In System social democracy, citizenship is open to all, voting is universal and compulsory, and there are no class distinctions. We proudly contrast our egalitarian ideals to those of the CrimCon, where citizenship is the prerogative of a privileged class, and noncitizens do not even have the right to vote on matters affecting their future. Under the System, everyone votes, without age or other limitations. On Voting Day, the incarcerated, those with mental issues, schoolchildren and alien visitors all participate in choosing our government. The result is a progressive society in which there is a surprising degree of unanimity. Although anyone is free to contest the System, official candidates routinely poll above 98 percent of the vote.

Voluntary Servitude A Public Duty

Voluntary Servitude (VS) is the foundation of the System and is based on the cooperative, egalitarian spirit that System citizens have always possessed. VS is a decision of the highest Goodlib morality in which the individual voluntarily embraces the interests of the State and the People above selfish personal needs. Through VS, the State is able to accomplish public projects that could never be considered in a society based on individual greed. Those citizens who volunteer for VS are honored by the State for their decision to dedicate their life to serving the State and the People.

Directed Service Reform and Rehabilitation

As in every society, a handful of malcontents and alien subversives make efforts to wreck and sabotage our smoothly-running democracy. Unlike the CrimCon, we deal humanely with such incorrigibles through Directed Service (DS). After a period of patient psymed reform and rehabilitation (RR), DS units serve the people voluntarily alongside their VS colleagues, helping to strengthen the society they had formerly opposed.

Rule of Law Equality for All

Under System rule, we are all equal, and any disagreements that arise are settled by the Rule of Law. Whether it is a citizen seeking compensation from another citizen who appears to possess more, or a citizen accused of wealth or elitist thoughtcrime, the Rule of Law will determine the result fairly and redistribute any inequality. Law is our most highly respected profession, the Rule of Law is sacrosanct, and State Lawyers settle all disputes.

Coping with Violence

The System views violence as the inevitable product of the remnants of inequality still present in our society. We do not punish those social victims who resort to violence through frustration, but concentrate our efforts on the targets of the violence. We have found these units are invariably guilty of thoughtcrime, and we detain them for observation and psymed reform when appropriate. As a reminder to visitors, it is highly illegal to resist violence, and when approached by a citizen seeking redistribution, it is mandatory to comply.

Voluntary Contributions Funding True Equality

No society can function without an efficient Government, and no Government can function without adequate funds to compensate the Administration and constantly redistribute society’s wealth to maintain true equality. This is especially true in a universal democratic empire such as the System. Our citizens understand the need for Voluntary Contribution (VC) of funds to the Ministry of Distribution. The current VC rate is 82 percent of income, and it funds a great many important programs demanded by our citizens.

Education Social Responsibility

In the System, education is mandatory and universal through midschool. The Ministry of Youth focuses on producing good citizens who embrace democratic ideals. The Ministry does not teach the discredited facts-skills-history model but molds young minds to embrace our democratic ideals. Those youth with the highest social consciousness are sponsored into higher education to serve the State.

Health for All

The System is proud of its universal health care, available at no cost to all from the Ministry of Health. Our citizens have repeatedly affirmed their preference for security over individualism, and the State guarantees health and security for all..

Galactic Defense Resisting the CrimCon

Because of continuing aggression from the CrimCon, based in the Outers, the System is forced to maintain a strong military posture throughout the Inners, the Gulf and the Gassies. Under the Ministry of Peace, our Defense Command (DEFCOM) directs our forces with the cooperation of the United System Interstellar Commission (USICOM) and the United System Defense Alliance (USDA), both representing allied worlds. DEFCOM commands both the Defense Corps (DefCorps) and Starfleet, consisting of our stellar infantry strike forces and our galactic navy. The STRATCOM Information Service is another important element in maintaining galactic peace. Starfleet and the DefCorps have repeatedly defeated the ConFree Legion and the CrimCon’s Fleetcom, but the CrimCon continues its reckless and frantic provocations designed to plunge the galaxy into a general war. The System is pledged to resist these piratical attacks. Every System citizen should never forget that the CrimCon betrayed humanity by allying itself with the remnants of the Assidic Empire, and did its best to destroy the System, threatening all humanity at a critical point in galactic development. More recently, while our forces were bravely resisting the onslaught of the Variant hordes, the CrimCon attempted to ally itself with these merciless alien marauders. Although they call themselves the ConFree (Confederation of Free Worlds), the CrimCon is neither a confederation nor is it free. It is a genocidal, dictatorial gang of mercenary anarchists, motivated by loot and greed.

The Ministry of Truth wishes it a pleasant day.

Advice from a Wiser Age

“I have sworn upon the altar of God, eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man.”

Thomas Jefferson

“There is not a truth existing which I fear or would wish unknown to the whole world.”

Thomas Jefferson

“The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.”

Thomas Jefferson

“When the people fear their government, there is tyranny; when the government fears the people, there is liberty.”

Thomas Jefferson

“The budget should be balanced, the Treasury should be refilled, public debt should be reduced, the arrogance of officialdom should be tempered and controlled, and the assistance to foreign lands should be curtailed lest Rome become bankrupt. People must again learn to work, instead of living on public assistance.”

Cicero

Author Interview

MilSciFi.com interviews Marshall S. Thomas, author of the military science fiction novel, Cross of the Legion, book five in the Solder of the Legion science-fiction series.

MilSciFi: Welcome back. Please tell us about your latest novel.

Thank you, Mike. Cross of the Legion is book five of the Soldier of the Legion science-fiction series. The war-weary Legion trooper Thinker is forced to abandon his family when his old friend and comrade Tara goes missing during a raid by the alien Omnis. His lover the sorceress Moontouch predicts a titanic struggle to the death for the future of humanity. The spidery Os, skilled telepaths with superior weapons and a taste for humans, have long been the scourge of the known universe, yet as Thinker hunts for Tara he discovers there is a terror that even the Omnis fear. An ancient killer is coming for everyone, human and Omni alike, and the only chance to stop it was obliterated more than two thousand years ago.

MilSciFi: What inspired you to write this story?

Book four, Secret of the Legion, ended with Thinker breaking rocks in a Legion stockade, vowing never to involve himself again with Tara. I couldn’t leave him there, and I wanted to show that you cannot avoid your fate. By book five, Cross of the Legion, Tara was a high-ranking Legion official and once again in need of her favorite attack dog Thinker.

MilSciFi: Will the ending of book five lead directly to the opening of book six, Curse of the Legion?

In Curse of the Legion, six years have passed since the harrowing events described in Cross of the Legion. The galactic situation appears to have quieted down, but it is only the calm before the storm.

MilSciFi: Could you please tell us a little something about book six.

Curse of the Legion will be in print very soon. With the hated totalitarian System on the verge of collapse and the dreaded alien Omnis observing an unexpected truce, veteran soldier of the Legion Thinker has finally found happiness with his wife Priestess in a cozy home raising his children and teaching new Legion recruits. It is a dream he never thought possible, a haven of peace and comfort. It is also short-lived, as a savage massacre of Outworlder settlers on the Outvac planet Fortuna leads the Confederation of Free Worlds to an all-out war with the Gassies world Asumara. Only everything is not as it appears, and soon the Legion finds itself fighting for the survival of its civilization against a shadowy enemy willing to do the unthinkable to destroy ConFree.

What do you owe the future, and what do you owe the past? In this the final book of the series, Thinker is confronted with terrible dilemmas involving duty, loyalty, love, death, courage, and the survival or extinction of his civilization. It is all up to him and he knows if he fails, billions may die or be cast into slavery.

MilSciFi: Does each book in the series stand alone, or do you need to read the series from the beginning?

I’ve written these so that a reader can pick up any of the books and enjoy and understand it. That said, it is a series and will be more satisfying if the series is read in order. The characters grow and change, and the green trooper Thinker of Book one is quite different from the confident and experienced Thinker of Book six.

MilSciFi: When you started, way back with Soldier of the Legion, did you have an overall plan for the series, or did each book evolve on its own?

Truth is, in the beginning I just wanted to write a satisfying, action-packed military science fiction book with memorable characters and a good story-line. That was Book one, Soldier of the Legion. Once I accomplished that, I thought ‘but what happens next?’ I found I couldn’t stop writing, and I enjoyed taking my characters along on more adventures. I thought it would end with Book five, but no there was more to say. That’s when Curse of the Legion was born.

MilSciFi: Is there a planned end to the series? Or will it continue as long as the idea is there?

Book six, Curse of the Legion, is the final book of the series.

MilSciFi: Please tell us a little about your new publisher?

Ridan Publishing is just terrific. It was created last year by Robin Sullivan. She was tired of dealing with unresponsive publishers and decided to open her own publishing company. It is rapidly earning a good reputation with very high quality work, an unbelievably author-friendly contract, and a growing list of talented authors. I met Robin and her husband Michael on the SF convention circuit and signing on with them is the best move I’ve made in a long time. Michael is a fantasy writer who is also a very talented artist. He does the covers for the Legion series.

MilSciFi: Do events in the real world, past or present, inspire your writings?

Of course. I’ve always been interested in history, international affairs, and the rise and fall of civilizations. I was raised overseas and later worked overseas and have been exposed to a wide variety of peoples, viewpoints and experiences. My internationalist outlook was forged in a strong appreciation for my own country’s history and culture.

MilSciFi: Do you have any other projects in the works?

I’m planning an anthology of the Legion series with character summaries and illustrations, galactic historical reviews, Legion training manuals, starcharts, ConFree and Systie handbooks and propaganda, science and weapons directories, etc. This should be of interest to readers who have enjoyed the series.

MilSciFi: Do you have any upcoming author events?

Yes, I’ll be attending Ravencon in Richmond, Virginia April 9-11 2010, Balticon in Maryland on May 28 to 31 and FantaSci at the Chesapeake Library, Virginia on June 26.

MilSciFi: Do you have a website?

My website is www.soldierofthelegion.com .

MilSciFi: Thank you, for your time.

Thank you for the opportunity!

Books in the Soldier of the Legion Series

Soldier of the Legion

The Black March

Slave of the Legion

Secret of the Legion

Cross of the Legion

Curse of the Legion

For more information visit

www.soldierofthelegion.com

About the Author

Marshall S. Thomas is a retired Foreign Service officer. Marshall attended the Georgetown University School of Foreign Service, the University of New Mexico and the University of Miami with a major in Government/ International Affairs and a minor in History. Marshall’s 35-year Foreign Service career included numerous postings in East Asia.

Marshall currently lives in Williamsburg, Virginia with his wife Kim Lien. His youngest son Alexander is now in college studying biochemistry. His eldest son Christopher is a graduate of Radford University who studied art and graphic design. Marshall loves to write science fiction but has also written on East Asian subjects. He is a member of the Chesapeake Bay Writers Club, Goodreads and Author’s Den.