March of the Legion (15 page)

"Rising mag levels!"

"Six, do it again!"

"Enemy launching aerial device!" There was a soundless flash up ahead, and something rocketed up into the glittering sky. Off to my right Warhound launched another psybloc, a sparkling trail shooting skywards. Warhound's fireworks and the O's device exploded at about the same time. Then a solid sheet of light from Psycho's skysweep lanced up to erupt, six, seven, eight, ten tacstars, golden flowers of the Legion, as scary and beautiful as angels of the Lord, and the sky was a great bowl of glowing light, flickering and flashing and throbbing with every color of the spectrum.

"Launch deceptors." Snow Leopard was as calm as if it was all a training exercise.

I was terrified, huddled in my armor, icy sweat trickling over my skin. I switched to deceptors and fired on auto. The sky was a shrieking, frantic beast, full of raging metal, and the tacmap was all trash.

"Tenners, what's the O done?"

"Unidentified aerial devices approaching! Attention! Enemy launching energy spheres! Unidentified devices approaching from high altitude, energy spheres approaching from low altitude!"

Damn! I could see it on the scope now, spidery lines on the tacmap, lazily approaching us. This was the weapon that had decimated Gamma on Andrion 3. But there was something else as well, coming at us from above!

"Gamma Seven, Beta Four, Five, you all in position?"

"Seven ready!"

"Four ready!"

"Five all set!"

One wanted to go after the O, but something was whirling overhead, a strange buzzing noise that turned my flesh cold.

"Genetic energy weapon, low-mass, twenty-one separate strands approaching," Sweety announced. "Recommend auto stunstars and v-max to disperse these energy masses."

My blood ran cold. This was something new, too. I stepped out from behind the flaming wreckage and brought my E up to my shoulder, switching to v-max.

"V-max, gang! Five, Gamma Seven, stunstars!" I could see them now, sparkling aerial strands of biotic death, falling gently down from the sky, slowly snapping and whirling in the breeze, floating towards us, living death, coiling and uncoiling like snakes, tails snapping, programmed to wrap around the appropriate genetic material and merge with it. We were the appropriate genetic material. I knew it could penetrate our A-suits and the result was an awful, hideous death. I fired at the nearest strand, auto v-max. It was taking hits from Merlin and Warhound to my right. It writhed blindly in the air, whirling wildly. The v-max appeared to be working—the strand was being blown apart, a shower of sparkling fragments.

Four stunstars burst over our heads almost simultaneously, a tremendous ragged quadruple boom, scattering the strands all over the sky. I fell to my knees.

It felt as if I had been hit by a speeding aircar.

"The spheres! Get the spheres, then do the O!"

"Who's the casualty?" Priestess asked.

"Look out! The snakes!" A glittering sheet of raw flame swept over my head.

"Use flame on the snakes! They burn like gas!" Dragon shouted. Streams of fire shot up from his position, and the genetic snakes burst into flames.

Thank God for Dragon!

"Energy spheres approaching! Six spheres! Recommend immediate counterfire!"

Lasers snapped past me, missing by mils. The spheres approached. Closer and closer. I struggled to my feet.

"Counter those spheres—now!" Snow Leopard was still on top of it. We'd have to put off our hit on the O until we dealt with the spheres. A shriek of raw terror, right in my ears.

"Use flame! Burn it!" One of the strands had touched down, and had somebody in its grasp. Things were happening so fast I could not even look at the sit.

"Sphere approaching, Thinker!" Scut!

"Spheres!" Snow Leopard commanded. "Biodee, canisters, chainlink, plasma, now!" It was coming right at me, glowing like a comet. I switched over to biodee and fired, shaking with terror.

Chapter 11:
Advice for the Dead

The sphere came right at me, glowing like a sun, drawn by my own genetics, and I knew nothing at all could stop it from merging with the nearest mass of human flesh and consuming it utterly, burning fiercely from outside until all life was gone. This was what had happened to Gamma on Andrion 3. This was a high-tech, self-guided energy weapon, unlike the snakes, and neither v-max nor stunstars nor flame were going to turn aside this relentless, mindless sphere from its murderous mission.

I was almost frozen with terror, but I fired biodee right into the glowing mass just before it hit me and it exploded right in my face, a brilliant white-hot glare and a crackling bang, lighting up the battlefield for one stark instant.

"Biodee works!" I croaked, staggering in relief. I blessed the warped genius who had come up with the device, and all the nameless toilers in the Legion death factory who had integrated it into our E's. It eats people, fine, we feed it people. Genetic bullets, biotic life and death, human genes to set off the spheres, and superflash moeboid reproduction of the genetic material, driving the sphere to consume to its own destruction.

"Biodee!" Snow Leopard commanded, "Biodee!" Another white flash behind me. A nightmare landscape of twisted, skeletal black buildings was wreathed in dark smoke, fires burning all around us, nuclear clouds glowing overhead, our psybloc flickering in the sky, a lovely, multicolored rain slowly floating down through the dark.

"Snake approaching, Thinker!" Above me, twitching in the air, seeking me out.

"I want canisters on the O—now!" Snow Leopard commanded. It was time to tackle the O. I fired flame up to the snake and it writhed, the fire running all along its airy body, burning brightly.

"Help us!" It was the Systie soldier. A sphere, darting at him. A blood-curdling scream.

"Fire biodee!" The sphere exploded, another white-hot crack.

"Canisters!" We were closing in on the O—he was dancing on my tacmap—right up ahead! The building just to my right exploded, showering me with debris. Laser snapped and popped past me from the O's position. Boudicca and Valkyrie passed me like shadows, heading for the O. What were they doing up here?

"Seven! Plasma! Now!" Snow Leopard ordered in a cold dead voice. Terrific ripping explosions and a blinding tracery of glowing streaks—several troopers opened up on canister. I raised my E and trotted forward to meet the O. I switched to canister and fired on auto. The recoil almost knocked me down and the flash dazzled my eyes. A glimpse of an A-suit to my right; I recognized the weapon, a biobloc fieldfaxer. It was Merlin, moving up, all set to cook his O. But we had to get through the mags first. The canisters were designed to do that. They fired cenite slivers, hundreds of miniature darts of cold death, crafted to slide between the madly whirling molecules of the O's mag shields, and tear open a hole for us to explode.

Another scream, a flash of lasers, a sharp explosion behind us as a tacstar cloud rose to the sky, a sparkling trail rocketing up. Warhound gave us one last psybloc, and the earth shook again to Psycho's chainlink, spitting autofire, then rattling to a stop.

"Get it off! Get it off!"

"More canisters! Autofire!" Sassin ran past me and his massive Manlink spit plasma, glowing pulses of pure energy, straight to the O. Canister! I fired canister, finger holding the trigger down, the E dancing in my grasp.

We walked forward to the O. Snow Leopard and Psycho and Coolhand appeared to my left, firing nonstop.

A black wall loomed between us and the O. It exploded, disintegrating into fragments, and the O spit death at us, a sudden firestorm of laser and tacstars.

Explosions erupted all around me, and suddenly I was on the ground, my head spinning wildly, my helmet glowing red, tacstar skies burning into my eyes, and Sweety calmly relaying data into my ears.

"…left arm no longer functional. Get up, Thinker! Fire canister! The O approaches!" I struggled to my feet. The left side of my A-suit was smoking. I felt nothing but I could not move my left arm. I did not want to look—I aimed my E with my right arm and fired canister.

"Death, Gamma!" Boudicca hurled herself at the O. Sassin fired again, plasma flashing, again and again and again, right into the O. Full auto canister fire deafened me as a deadly hail of cenite darts filled the air. Psycho opened up again with the chainlink and for the first time, I heard the shrill grating whine of Merlin's biobloc fieldfaxer. An airburst flashed just over my head and hot metal hissed down all around me.

The O appeared, looming before us out of the smoke, tall dark body parts shimmering in a pulsating violet haze; is that armor? It fired, a flash, exploding just to my left, my faceplate going dark.

"I'm hit, Two. Take command." Snow Leopard, detached, a message from Dreamland.

"One is down," Two reported calmly. "Fire all weapons—canister, chainlink, plasma, biobloc."

The O erupted, winking like a star, firing everything it had—laser, tacstars, spheres, xmax. Highways of light came right at me, and then I was down again and the world was aflame, a hot white sky.

"Three's hit."

"Seven is hit."

"Nine?"

"Get the O."

I struggled to my feet. Focus, a cloud of black smoke. Fire rippled above me. The O stood before me, enveloped in a hazy violet field, cold air shimmering all around it, ice forming on my A-suit. The head, moving; armor, it's in armor; the eyes, glowing red, right into mine. Something came down, a weapon, writhing like a snake in hazy air. My life flashed before me. Tara, and the Legion gate. Hell and Valkyrie and our landing on the New World. Priestess appeared before me, glowing like an icon. I saw Moontouch, the Princess of the Dead, holding up my baby—what a beautiful baby! I fired canister, right into the O's ugly face. The world exploded, a tremendous flash, and hot sparkles danced in my vision. I was on my back now—the world was spinning around, and I was blind. The battle raged around me.

"Canister! Biobloc! Pour it on!" Multiple explosions deafened me. The transmissions were fading.

"Biobloc! Get him, Merlin!"

"No…no! He's gone."

"Get the O! Get the O!"

"Use flame!"

"No—not the tacstar!"

"Canister! More!"

"Don't stop! Don't stop!"

I struggled to my feet. My vision was coming back; I was still alive. I spat blood and aimed with my good arm. I saw A-suits in the smoke, walking in flames, firing into the dark. Something writhed in the shadows. Four leaned into his fieldfaxer; and it was shrieking, whining, howling biotic death at the thing in the shadows. Plasma dazzled my eyes; Sassin firing full auto from his Manlink, full auto plasma, spitting and burning, lighting up a wild thrashing form like a great metal snake in its death throes. Pulsing violet flashes, on and off, a dying star. Coolhand fired canister, the air full of humming death, riddling the target, full auto canister. Psycho, the snout of his chainlink almost touching the creature, firing auto xmax; we're much too close for tacstars. The shield is down! I switched to auto xmax and fired one-handed and kept my finger down on the trigger, a death grip. Someone fired flame, and the O ignited.

"Burn the bastard!"

"Blast him!"

"Don't stop!"

Junk, the O was flaming junk, whirling in a firestorm of cenite, dancing in the lightning of xmax and melting in the plasma's hot breath, cooking in the biobloc. The buildings came down around us, falling down on our armored backs, but we didn't care. We kept firing until we knew, beyond a doubt, that the O was dead.

"Don't die, Boudicca! Oh my God, please don't die! Priestess! Priestess! Help me!" It was Valkyrie, frantic.

The world whirled around me. I found Valkyrie on the tacmap and staggered dizzily to the site. She was on her knees, cradling Boudicca in her arms. Hell burned all around them. Boudicca was horribly wounded, her frontal armor burnt away and smoking, white-hot, her abdomen a bloody mass of melting cenite and bubbling gore, her legs two black, shredded metal stumps. I wrenched at her visor with my one good hand and got it up. She was pale and still, in shock.

"Thinker! Thinker, you're hit!" Valkyrie exclaimed. She was also in shock, breathing shallowly.

"I'm all right. Gamma, speak! Priestess, where are you?"

Boudicca's eyelids fluttered and she tried to focus on me. "Beta? Three? Did we get the O?"

"We got it, Gamma—it's stone dead!"

Blood spurted out of Gamma One's mouth, and she began coughing.

"Valkyrie, get my medkit!" I couldn't seem to get it open with my one good hand.

"Don't die, Boudicca! I love you!" Valkyrie was clinging to Boudicca and crying, hysterical.

"The medkit, Valkyrie!" Priestess suddenly appeared, slamming a bloody biotic charger on to Boudicca's charred and smoking chest. Priestess hit her with a max charge, and did it again, and again.

"Valkyrie…Val…" Boudicca was trying to speak.

"Boudicca! You're going to be all right!" Valkyrie replied. "Priestess is here, you're all right!"

"No, Val…I'm dying…I'm done." Her face twisted into a painful grimace. "But we got the O! Gamma got the O…you put that on my grave, Valkyrie."

"Don't die, Boudicca! Don't leave me!"

Gamma One's eyes turned up to the sky. The color was fading from her twitching, frightened face. Her lips moved. "Forming a new squad, Val…" she whispered throatily. "I'll save you…number two." And then she shuddered and the life ran right out of her, and Priestess kept banging away on the biotic charger, but it made no difference—another immortal was dead.

"Priestess! Medic! Medic! It's One!" Coolhand was calling for help—it was for Beta One. Priestess leaped to her feet and disappeared into the dark. Snow Leopard! I gritted my teeth. This was not going to be easy.

"Are you all right, Valkyrie?" I asked.

Valkyrie did not move. She silently held Boudicca in her arms, and said not a word. I made the sign of the Legion over Boudicca, and then over Valkyrie, and then I left them, to see about Snow Leopard.

I found him in Coolhand's arms, with Priestess working frantically on him. They had unlinked his upper armor. It was red with blood. Horrible sucking chest wounds, blood spurting everywhere. It looked as if he had lost an arm as well. His visor open, pale face, his eyes blinking—he was as pale as death, gasping for air.

"Is he going to make it, Priestess?"

"Shut down—hand me a fleshpad. The breather!"

I could see, behind his visor, Coolhand shaking and crying silently. I prayed to the God of War for Snow Leopard's life. And all I could think was that he was a great warrior, and he was our One; and if the Gods let him die, I would curse the Gods, and believe in nothing, and face a future as dark as a black hole.

"Ten, Two…damn! Badass, Badboy, we're through here. Get us out. Big Kid, we've done it. Acknowledge, please." Coolhand had taken charge. Snow Leopard screamed, in sudden agony. Blood spurted all over my faceplate.

"There…" Priestess's armored fingers were digging in Snow Leopard's chest for something. The medpads were soaked in blood.

"Is he stable?"

"Badass, Badboy. Respond!"

An armored hand on my shoulder. It was Dragon. "Thinker, you'd better come here." I turned to follow him. Flames licked at our feet and the sky was dark with smoke. I did not want to see whatever it was Dragon had for me.

"Badass, Badboy. Scut! No response."

"Badass…kid…to pick up Badboy. Acknow…" Shot full of static. That had to be Big Kid, trying to relay our message to Badass. At least somebody was getting the word. A dark sky. Shadowy figures in A-suits, moving in slow motion around me like a dream. Something flaming, a charred pile of junk—the O. Dragon's heavy hand was still on my shoulder. He was guiding me somewhere.

"Badboy, Beta Two. Count off! One, wounded. Two, present—count off!"

"Three," I said mechanically.

"Four." A whisper. Merlin was alive!

"Five." Psycho! Bulletproof, the magnificent little maniac was bulletproof!

Silence. Silence, from Beta Six. The remnants of his psybloc were still falling, ghostly lights in the sky. And out of the smoke a vision appeared. It was Psycho, on his knees, cradling another trooper in his arms. I saw in an instant that it was Ironman. Smoke drifted slowly around the scene, and a faint halo of light illuminated them from behind. I sank to my knees and touched Ironman's helmet with the armored fingers of my good hand. His face was still and pale behind the visor, and his eyes were open. A ragged laser track ran through his armor from the neck down through his chest and left arm. The cenite armor was still smoking.

I couldn't speak. It was like a dream.

"Priestess…" I finally said. "Priestess."

"She's already been here," Psycho informed me. "He's gone. Ironman is gone."

Dragon leaned over and made the sign of the Legion before Ironman's faceplate. "He was a warrior," Dragon said. It was the highest praise Dragon could give.

"He was advancing and firing when he was hit," Psycho said. "I saw the whole thing. He was walking right into the O. Nobody could have died better than that."

Ironman, Ironman, Ironman! I could not see, my eyes were full of tears. He was our child, our innocent, our only link with a lost world. With Ironman at our side, we knew we were fighting for something worthwhile. Now he was gone.

"Count off! Count off, damn you all! I said count off!" Coolhand was losing patience.

"Six," somebody said. But it was not Warhound's voice. "Six is…he's here—with me."

"Beta Seven," Dragon said, "mission accomplished. Eight—present."

"Nine." A haunted whisper. My heart leaped.

"Gamma One—she's gone! Gamma Two—present!" It was Valkyrie's cold, lost voice, a cry in the wilderness.

"Gamma Five is wounded. Gamma Seven here."

"Systies! Let's hear it!"

"May God have mercy on your soul. My friend, my friend…how can you leave us?" It was Merlin, talking to himself. I got to my feet, in a trance, and followed the tacmap to locate him. He was squatting in the dirt, his fieldfaxer on the ground beside him. Warhound lay before him, his A-suit glowing cherry-red. I stopped, stunned. Warhound's atlauncher was at his side. His faceplate was burnt black.