Tara did not come. She was busy on the Omni ship assisting the Legion. I did not think she wanted to meet Moontouch.
A Legion battlestar had arrived, the Armageddon, and disgorged an army of techs and science brains onto the Omni ship. We had done all we could. Now it was in the hands of the Gods.
I knew I would have to leave Moontouch. I didn't even try to fool myself about that. I certainly loved her but it was a love both fierce and futile, a love with no future.
There was something I had to do before I left. I took out the medkit one night after Stormdawn and Willard were asleep and Moontouch and I were alone on the pillows, under a tent that was swaying gently in a light, cool breeze.
"I told you our son is immortal," I said in Taka.
"I accept your word, my King," Moontouch replied.
"He will never die of age, but only if he is killed by his enemies, or by the Gods."
"He is a son of the stars. Our immortal!" She was prouder of him than anything else—he was her obsession.
"Would you like to become an immortal as well?" I asked her.
She looked at me carefully, blinking smoky eyes. "To live forever?"
"To live forever—and forever young. You would never age. You would stay just as you are, young and beautiful, forever."
"You can do this?"
"Easily."
"You will leave me. Soon."
"Yes. I will. I must. I will never see you again—or my son. I love you both, but the Gods will take me away—forever."
"Then perhaps I should die."
"You must choose. If you become an immortal, everyone you love will grow old and die—except for your son."
"And if I do not?"
"He will watch you grow old and die—just as any other son."
"And his children?"
"Immortal."
"And his wife?"
"Mortal. She will age, and die."
"His heart will die, of grief." She looked up to the silken roof of the tent, and her eyes were far away. "I must stay with him. He is the future of our world—I must stay with him!"
"Are you certain? I cannot undo it, once it is done."
"I am certain, my King. How else can I find you again?"
"You must not say that—you must forget me."
"Yes—and forget the stars and the sun and the rain. And forget our only son. Make me an immortal—I will cry for a thousand years, and then set forth to find you, again."
"Don't even think it! Give me your arm."
She thrust one slim arm at me, angrily. I ripped open the plasmapak—my fingers shook. I pressed it against her flesh and it found a vein and lit up. She looked right at me, and I avoided her eyes. The blood of the Legion squirted into her veins—golden blood, a slight improvement on God's work, courtesy of our unholy lifies. We were all insane, I thought. Immortality only prolonged our suffering. But I couldn't leave her behind to die like an animal.
###
"Alpha Station comlink, this is unit Seven Zero Three. Any word on my tracer to Uldo?" I called them four times a day—sometimes more.
"That's a twelve, Seven Zero Three. Sorry! We'll contact you as soon as we get a message."
"Yeah. I know. Thanks. Seven Zero Three out." I slipped the comset back onto my u-belt. It was a bright, clear, cool morning—I stood outside the tent. Moontouch and Stormdawn were still asleep. From the ruins of Stonehall, I had a magnificent view of God's Garden in all its glory, spreading to a misty horizon.
Deadeye approached, armed with a stabbing spear. He was always close at hand with his soldiers.
"Death, Slayer!" He had picked up some Legion terminology.
"Death, Deadeye. A good night?"
"A quiet night, Slayer. Our enemies lick their wounds."
"How about the exosegs?"
"We still pursue them, Slayer. We lead the Legion to their nests. There are millions of them, still. But we fear them no more. Your people have saved our world, Slayer. We are with the Legion, to the death."
I knew he meant it literally. The exoseg swarm had terrorized this world until we dropped from the skies to change history.
"And the Soldiers of God?" I asked.
"The Legion captured the Hand of God not long after you left. When they were through with him, they let us have him. We gave him a sword, to let him die with dignity. But he did not die with dignity."
"The Gods willed it."
"Yes. Your Gods are the same as ours."
We lapsed into silence, enjoying the faint breeze and the view. Deadeye's warriors were camped all around us. It was not a very disciplined army, but they were good auxiliaries. We called them "airmobile rabble" at one point when ferrying them around the planet. They were tough, fearless little bastards, and had been invaluable in breaking the power of the Cult of the Dead and the Soldiers of God.
My comset squawked suddenly. "Wester! They're back!" I snatched at it.
"What? Tara—who's back?" The comset screeched and crackled, then went dead.
"Tara! Answer! What's the sit?" I shouted. Moontouch came out of the tent, blinking.
"What is it, my King?"
"I don't know," I said. The set squawked again, a babble of voices, the sharp crack of E's firing, then silence. I could feel my blood pressure rising. She was in the ship—she must still be in the Omni ship!
"Tara, Tara, Wester, answer!"
"Wester, it's…" She was cut off in mid-sentence.
"Alpha Station Transport, this is unit Seven Zero Three," I called. "I need immediate transport—this is an emergency!"
No answer. Damn! Tara was in trouble, and I was stuck with no transport.
"Alpha Transport, Seven Zero Three, answer! I need an aircar, now!"
No answer. Why wouldn't they answer? They always answered! "Tara, Wester—acknowledge!" But there was no answer from her, either.
"Your friend is in great danger," Moontouch said calmly. "She is fighting for her life. There is nothing we can do."
I turned to face Moontouch. Her lovely face was softly illuminated by the rising sun—she was glowing like a princess of gold.
"How do you know?" I asked.
"She is touched by the Gods—I can feel her from here."
"Deadman! Alpha Station…" I was interrupted by the alert.
"GALACTIC NOVA! ANDRION SYSTEM UNDER OMNI ATTACK! GOING TO BLACKOUT! FLASH RED COMBAT ALERT! CRASH LAUNCH ALL COMBAT UNITS! ALL PERSONNEL TO ACTION STATIONS! ALL PERSONNEL STAND BY FOR TARGET INFO!"
"Scut!" I knew there would be no transport for me now. I was going to sit this one out right here.
"Wester, it's the O's!" Xmax and laser, in the background.
"Talk to me, Tara!"
"It's the O's! They're back! Scut! Look out!" More xmax, commands and curses. "They're in the ship! Holos! They're artificial, Wester! We can't fight them!"
"Get out, Tara! Get out!"
"We're taking casualties!"
"Get out! You can't fight them!"
"They want the ship!"
"Give it to them, Tara!"
"Get off this freq, trooper!" somebody demanded. "Ultra One, report!"
"Ultra, One!" An unfamiliar voice. "We've lost the bridge—we've got all our casualties with us!"
"One, Science! I confirm the unitium mag field is unstable and failing! The D-neg is about to be released! Repeat, we're facing a nova!"
"They're going to destroy the ship!"
"Tara," I interrupted again, "get your people off!"
"One, do you still hold the power room?"
"Twelve, Ultra…" My comset suddenly went off frequency. Alpha had cut me off.
"Alpha, you bastards, get me back on that freq!"
"Negative, Seven Zero Three. You can't help!"
"Get your people off that ship, Alpha!" But Alpha did not answer me.
Cut off and helpless, I reeled in warm morning sunlight, clutching my useless comset. Moontouch was by my side. Willard and Stormdawn came out of the tent, awakened b
y the fuss. Willard held Stormdawn's hand—he liked the little fellow.
"What can we do, Slayer?" Deadeye asked.
"Nothing, Deadeye. There's nothing anyone can do now, except pray."
"Then we will pray. What shall we pray for?"
"Pray for the soul of my friend—pray for her life."
Moontouch went down to her knees immediately, chanting an eerie dirge, eyes closed, raising her arms to Heaven. Stormdawn began crying, frightened, and Willard clutched him tightly. I had never before felt so helpless, so totally useless. There was nothing at all I could do.
When the ship went nova, it lit up the sky like a sudden new sun, totally soundless, flashing to life in a blinding hot core, blasting a million glittery white tracers out to fill the entire sky in a horrific, apocalyptic vision of destruction. The ship had been passing overhead, rising from the north. I gasped in fascinated horror as the tracers lengthened, shooting out into space and down into the at. The core broke up, spitting and sparkling, spewing hot debris. As the first tracers entered the atmosphere we got the sound, a sharp crackling, multiple thunderous booms, and a high shrieking like a wild fireworks display.
The Omni ship had detonated.
Moontouch moaned and shrieked, still on her knees, hiding her face. Her slave girls appeared and clustered around her anxiously. Deadeye's soldiers were frantic, running around in circles, gaping at the sky. Gildron was with a group of soldiers, in shock, shielding his eyes, stunned by the sight. He knew exactly where Tara had been—I didn't need to tell him.
I closed my eyes and prayed to the Legion's savage Gods. All I wanted was for her to live—I had lost too many comrades. It was killing me as well. One life—was it too much to ask? Spare one life. Just one. Take mine, for hers. Just let her live. Please!
Moontouch rose, clutching her robe tightly around her, blinking her eyes, looking up to the sky. She took a deep breath.
"Alive," she said. "Your friend is alive." My heart leaped.
The tacmod crackled. "Wester! We made it!" Tara gasped, out of breath.
"Tara!" I shouted, snatching at the tacmod. "Are you all right?"
"By the skin of our teeth!" She laughed, almost hysterical. "We crash launched in the shuttle! When the D-neg went, it started to suck us in—so fast I knew we were going to die! Then it blew. What a ride!" A babble of excited voices in the background—it sounded like a wild party. "Got a lot of dings and hits but we're all right! Entering the at!"
"Love you, Tara!"
"Likewise—tell you later—I got to go!"
I gave the high sign to Gildron, along with a big grin. He leaped into the air and let out a joyous roar.
"Do you really love her, my King?" Moontouch asked me.
"I love you, Moontouch. Only you. And I thank your Gods—they are strong!"
"The dead are stronger than the living," she said sadly, "and the Gods of the Book are all dead."
Chapter 19
To Serve the Legion
"Alpha Station Comlink, unit Seven Zero Three. Are you sure there's nothing for me?" I was on the comset again, lying half-naked on a pile of pillows under the tent as two lovely little slave girls gently massaged me from head to toe, rubbing healing ointments into my wounds. Moontouch was by my side, propped on one elbow, sipping flowered tea, as content as a cat, watching the proceedings with lazy interest.
"Sorry, Seven Zero Three. There's a war on, you know."
"Nothing at all? No orders? Can I send a follow-up to my message?"
"Can't do it, trooper—you know it. Uldo is still on comdown."
"Well, how about my request for transport to Uldo? Anything from Command?"
"Look, Seven Zero Three—when we get anything for you, we'll call you. I promise. All right?"
"All right! Sure! Don't get so touchy!"
"I'm not touchy. It's just that you call me up every couple hours, and we're not even engaged."
"Yeah—right. Seven Zero Three out."
"Just relax, Seven Zero Three. If I was in your shoes, I wouldn't be so anxious to get back to Uldo."
"You're not in my shoes. Seven Zero Three out." I put the comset down, annoyed. One of the slave girls was working on my shoulders, the other one was massaging my legs. They were certainly switching me on, and Moontouch knew it. Soon she would order them out and move on me like a phantom, an irresistible, silken vampire, hungry for blood.
I still had no idea what had happened to Priestess—or the rest of the squad. Merlin was dead, that was sure. We had left Psycho badly wounded and facing the DefCorps; we had left Dragon behind us with his arms secured, also in the path of the Systies. Priestess had last been seen charging back into the starmass, the O's unholy breath, desperately searching for Scrapper, lost in the holocaust. Valkyrie had thrown herself at the O—surely to her death. And Twister, also wounded, also left behind to cover us. Only Snow Leopard had been untouched. But I knew Beta One wouldn't leave a single trooper behind—he'd have gone after them all, and probably not came back. Damn the ship! Damn that cursed ship! Now it was gone, and we were gone, too. We were finished. Beta was gone. And I was relaxing in a tent of perfume, a tent of girls. It was all wrong.
I sat up, angry. Why hadn't they answered? Snow Leopard would have answered, if he had received the message. Perhaps he had never received the message. Perhaps nobody at all had survived!
Moontouch motioned to the girls and they gathered up their ointments and slipped away. Gildron and Willard had departed the previous day by aircar, anxious to see Tara again. I was alone with my family.
"You set a bad example," I rebuked Moontouch. "There are no more slaves. You know it—and you keep these girls."
"They are free to leave, my King," she replied calmly. "Yet they stay. You are free to stay. Yet you will leave me. It is not a good example for your son. What shall I tell him?" Moontouch gazed at me with sad, faraway eyes. She was so lovely it was hard to look at her. Pure, fragile beauty—a cenite angel. How could I ever leave her? How could any human leave her? Maybe I wasn't human any more. Maybe the Legion had changed me too much. My left arm was artificial—maybe my heart had been changed, as well. Maybe they had put in a Legion heart—a heart without pity, without emotion, a heart that would pump for a thousand years to keep the dead alive, to serve the Legion.
Stormdawn entered the tent, standing there silently looking at me. The most lovely child in the galaxy. He would grow up without a father, and never die, and hate me for it.
###
"Wester, Tara." Tara! I picked up the comset. We had our own freqs now—nobody could interfere.
"Yes, Tara."
"I'm pleased to announce that the P.S. Maiden just hit the screens, fresh from Uldo."
"The Maiden! I'm on my way!" Surely they would have news about Beta!
"Uh, negative, Wester. It'll be another hour before they dock. And I'd like you to stay there for awhile."
"Stay here—well, why? I want news about Beta!"
"There's a few things I'd like to resolve first."
"What does that mean?"
"A few…non-events."
"Come on, Tara."
"They had a meeting about the ship—and I wasn't invited."
"I see."
"I thought that a little strange."
"I see what you mean. But the ship is gone—what are they having meetings for anyway?"
"There's plenty to do, Wester. We got enough info to keep the researchers busy for decades. Even without the ship, this is probably the most important scientific project in history."
"And you weren't invited." It was downright ominous. Tara was a Starcom psycher. She had been with the ship from the beginning, and she knew more about it than anyone else.
Nobody cared what I thought, but they shouldn't have had a meeting about the ship without asking Tara along.
"I'm also having a little trouble communicating with Starcom. Suddenly."
"Is that so."
"Just stay there, Wester—until I give
you the word. I'll make sure you get any news about Beta."
"Keep in touch, Tara."
"You, too. Tara out."
Moontouch lightly raked her long fingernails down my arm. It sent a thrill right through my body.
"Is it so hard to stay here, my love?"
"It is easy to stay here, Moontouch. Too easy. But my comrades are lost in the war. I would be a woman if I stayed here while their fate is unknown."
"The Gods guide you, my King. We are dust in the wind. You will leave us when it is time. Until then you must make your family happy. Stormdawn, come here!"
He ran over to us and fell into my arms, laughing. Moontouch was perfectly right. The living always came first—the dead could wait.
###
"It's all right," Biergart said. "I understand." He stood before me in the shadows, completely calm, faintly smiling. We were back in the villa, in the cellar.
"Biergart…" I began.
"You don't have to say anything, boy," he said. "I forgive you. You did what you had to do. Come on in." He opened the door. It was the door to the room where we had interrogated him. It was dark inside.
"I understand," he repeated. "You shouldn't feel bad. I would have done the same in your place. See?" My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. Someone was strapped to a chair.
Biergart snapped on the light. It was Priestess, bathed in sweat, terrified. Biergart pressed a handgun up against the back of her head. Her eyes were pleading, but I was frozen, unable to move. He fired, and her forehead exploded. The scream woke me up.
"Wester! Wester, Tara! Damn it!" The comset crackled into my ears. I was in the tent, soaked in sweat, my heart racing, fumbling at the comset.
"Tara, Wester—what."
"It's ConFree, Wester—they're making their move. Damn it, damn it!" She was stressed, her voice shaking.
"It's Wester—yes, Tara." The nightmare was still swirling in my mind, and I did not understand what Tara was saying. Moontouch awoke, beside me in the dark.
"Get to the Maiden! Go to blackout!" The comset hissed and sputtered. And I heard someone else say in the background, quite clearly, "They're coming."
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