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 city—a 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 view—it 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 too—the 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 there—EDUCATION, a statue of a long-haired 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 statue—a 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 places—like 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 text—the 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 body—personnel 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 dead—but 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 evil—and 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 Tara—she 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 slippers—that'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 scent—I 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 long—it 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 angel—straight 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 too—nursing us both back to health after the suicide mission to Eiros 4. KCA himself had stabbed me right in the heart—but 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 note—the 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 there—the 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.
Curse of the Legion Page 3