Cross of the Legion

by Marshall S. Thomas

  The lever slid down easily to the open position. I thanked Deadman and all the Gods of Hell. I thanked Beta One. The hatch was still firmly closed, but all it needed now was one last pull on the lever.

  One more notch on the lever and the hatch would snap open to the side into its slot in the cenite wall. I prayed, and gave it that last pull.

  The door snapped open instantly and the force of the water rushing into the airlock sucked us both in like minnows. I slammed up against the far door and a burst of panic struck as the swirling water threatened to drown me like a rat caught in a whirlpool. It was icy cold and terrifying and almost impossible to hold my breath any longer. Suddenly I shot upwards and into the air, gasping, filling my lungs. Scrapper surfaced beside me, her face pale and strained. Air! The sudden surge of water into the airlock had compressed much of the air up into the ceiling of the chamber. We had hoped for it, but I had been afraid that the force of the water would have purged the chamber of air. Lucky for us, my fears were groundless.

  "Deadman…now what?" Scrapper's teeth chattered. If we stayed in this water much longer we would freeze to death. It was icy cold and very scary. There was barely room for our heads in the airspace.

  "All right," I said, breathing heavily. "Now…we close the exterior door…and…then…" my head was spinning. I'd have to slow down!

  "Thinker? Scrapper! Can you hear me?" It was One—barely audible!

  "One! Yes! Speak! We're in the airlock! Got air!" I was paralyzed with fear.

  "Great! All right, close the exterior door but do not blow the water out of the airlock! When the exterior door is closed, you'll be able to open the inner door. When you do, the water will shoot out—and so will you! Without that diversion, you'll never make it past the guards. Acknowledge!"

  "That's a ten, One." I responded. "The human cannonball routine. Second time this week. All right, Scrapper, let's go. Got your party hat?" She gave me a weary grimace, and took a deep breath.

  ***

  The biogen girls stripped Priestess naked and spread-eagled her face down on a large bed with a pure white cover and a gleaming metal frame. Cenite cuffs snapped tightly over her wrists and ankles with cenite link chains were secured to four sturdy bedposts. When the biogens tightened the chains, it was like being on the rack. Her muscles burnt with pain and she had to stifle a scream. She was just barely touching the covers. It felt as if her arms and legs were about to be torn from their sockets, and her loins felt as if they were being split wide open.

  "Comfy?" One of the Arcangels whispered in her ear. "Would it like something for the pain?"

  Priestess shook her head, producing a fresh jolt of agony. Her eyes filled with tears from the pain and she was furious because she did not want them to think she was afraid.

  "It's quite beautiful, for a flesher," the biogen continued. She seemed to be in a chatty mood. "Such a nice body! The Supreme Leader will enjoy it. Too bad it has to die. The SL doesn't ever terminate biogens. It says we're perfect—and we are." There were several other Arcangels standing around the bed, and they smiled in agreement. The bed was surrounded by a luxurious study full of airchairs and sofas.

  "Oh, don't cry. Is it too tight?" Priestess nodded, too angry to talk. Someone eased the chains a little and the pain eased off and Priestess's breasts sank into the covers.

  "We'll loosen it some more when the SL comes. It likes a little resistance. Feel free to struggle. Excuse us now. We have to put this on." The Arcangel slipped a silken gag over Priestess's mouth and tightened it viciously at the back of Priestess's neck. "The SL likes its boys to be quiet when it's mating with them—and that goes for girls as well. Best to relax now, it'll be here shortly. And remember, it's an honor to be chosen by the Supreme Leader."

  It was an honor Priestess would very much like to have avoided. Her mind was racing, but she could see no way out of this one. She was going to be raped and murdered in Norport by KCA, with a roomful of biogens calmly looking on. And there was nothing she could do about it. She didn't want to die—not this way! She began to shudder, overcome with grief and rage. One of the biogens laughed.

  ***

  "These things are not bad," Psycho said, sucking on one of Sassy's black candy sticks. He leaned forward in a padded airchair, facing a wide, very complex control panel that merged into a whole wall of d-screens and display readouts.

  "They grow on ya," Sassy replied, her own candy stick jutting from her mouth like a cigarette. A moan from the floor interrupted them.

  "Take care of that, Sassy." Psycho handed her the shockrod. She reached down to the hogtied tech and zapped him again. There were six of them, males and females, Ormans and Outworlders, stretched out on the deck, securely tied, just beginning to recover from the shockrods.

  "We must be crazy," Sassy said. "We're so scared we're almost paralyzed…but it feels good, so damned good, seeing those smug Uppers tied up like pigs. It made it look so easy!"

  "Sure there's no other way in?"

  "Nobody's getting in those vault doors. And only us pipe rats know the other way." Psycho had padded silently right into the control room from the toilets, zapped every tech, and sealed the doors. The formidable force of security goons were all on the other side of the vault. They were falling out of orbit, but they weren't getting in.

  "All right, Psycho," Snow Leopard said in his ear, "you've been more successful than I had dared dream. Make the announcement."

  "Can," Psycho replied, and triggered the emergency public address system. "Good morning, Systies! This is the Legion. We're a suicide force. We now control your Nuke Power Generator. All we want is the Supreme Rat—Kenton Cotter-Arc. Turn this murderous psychopath over to us immediately and free our comrades, and we'll leave peacefully. KCA, surrender now and give your people a break. Otherwise, we're going to put this reactor into stardrive and nuke your base, killing you and everyone else. You've got about ten marks to decide. We don't want to kill anyone. But we will, if we don't get KCA. He's all we want, alive or dead. Ten marks, folks! We are fully prepared to die! Are you?" Five snapped the PA key to the off position.

  "Is it really going to do it?" Sassy asked, pale and subdued.

  "Nah! Relax—that's all nonsense. I hope."

  "It hopes!"

  "Well, it's a last resort. I don't think we'll have to actually do it. Mmm—these are yummy!"

  "Don't do it! We can't have it killing all those people!"

  "The only reason to do it would be to kill King Rat. If my buddies get him, we're gone. You and me."

  "We like it when it talks sub."

  "You and me! You and me!"

  "Ooh! Sounds bad!"

  "That's me. One bad sub. Can't wait to get you alone."

  "Looks like they're getting set to blast the vault door," Sassy said, pointing to a d-screen.

  "Back off from the vault," Five barked into the speaker, "or we blow the lid right now!" He reached over to the master power levers and began sliding them down towards the red. He had already deactivated the auto safeties. The emergency claxon came to life, blasting a tooth-rattling warning. Sassy held her ears, grimacing.

  "What a day, huh, Sassy? No matter what happens, these folks are going to remember us. Pipe Rats rule!"

  "Screw the Uppers!" the candy stick danced in her mouth.

  "Aw right!" Psycho had his firmly clenched between his teeth.

  ***

  "Delightful," KCA said, standing behind Priestess not far from the bed. He had entered the room with a large crowd of Arcwhites and Arcangels and Systie hangers-on, Mocains and Ormans. Priestess could not see behind her, but she could catch glimpses of a few boys in white gaping at her. She was hot with rage at her hopeless situation. She could not even move the chains. "Are the cameras on? Are the holos active?"

  "Yes sir," a biogen answered. "All functioning."

  "Good. Then this is our message to the CrimCon. Iceman, we have received your assassins. This is how we will deal with them—every one. We hope you will
enjoy its suffering. Why don't you come here yourself, Iceman, instead of sending a girl to do your dirty work? We'll welcome you, and we'll treat you the same way." He laughed and stripped off his shirt, letting it drop to the carpet, moving up to the edge of the bed between Priestess's outstretched legs.

  "Priestess." Snow Leopard's voice was right in her ears, a fierce whisper. "We're coming for you. Don't despair. We're coming." Priestess gasped in surprise. She was not forgotten!

  "My—look at that! Tempting!" KCA ran his hands gently over Priestess's legs, and it was like the touch of a snake.

  He was going to rape her with all those people watching, biogens and children alike. Priestess wanted to curse him and his descendants, consigning them to burn in Hell for all time, but the gag prevented her from uttering a sound.

  "Sir…excuse us."

  "We wanted no interruptions, Commander. Does no one listen to us any more?"

  "It's very urgent, sir." A new alarm claxon was bleating in the distance, as if to underscore his words.

  "Very well. Speak."

  Priestess could not hear the response, a low whisper. But she heard KCA's reaction.

  "What! You're joking! Another penetration! Through the flooded airspace! Impossible! Are you all totally…are we flooding?"

  "No sir, it was only the contents of the airlock door, it's all sealed now. But two intruders got through in the confusion. We're…"

  "You're relieved! Captain, put this one in the brig. Locate and kill the intruders! We…"

  "Sir. Excuse us. There's more. A Legion squad has seized control of the nuclear power generator, not five marks ago. They're threatening to nuke the base."

  "Seized control of the…" KCA was sputtering, apoplectic in rage.

  "Sir, we recommend it evacuate the base immediately for its own protection. We are preparing to assault the power center with its permission, but cannot guarantee the Legion will not succeed…" KCA raised a shockrod and blasted the Mocain commander. He collapsed heavily to the carpet.

  "Captain, it is now in charge of our personal security. It will locate and terminate those two intruders at once. Instruct our forces to attack the power generators immediately. We want…"

  "Sir, we recommend it evacuate the base immediately via the minisub," an Orman advisor squeaked excitedly.

  "Captain, that damned Mocain female is still loose. I want energy spheres, set for Mocain freaks. Set them loose inside X as soon as they're programmed. Mocain freaks, we repeat."

  "But sir, that will target every Mocain in X—not just the hostile!"

  "Do it! If my security forces were more reliable, such actions would not be necessary."

  "Sir, the minisub!"

  "All right. All right. Our security forces have failed us. We'll be back, Captain—and it had better have some fresh corpses for us. As for this one, slit her throat—and record it! We're…" A rising commotion, just outside the doors. Screams, shouts, the popping of shockrods. Two Arcwhites come crashing through the open doorway to the carpet, shockrods flying. An Arcangel biogen was next, staggering back, swinging a shockrod.

  "The Leader…"

  That's when Scrapper and I came charging through the doorway, soaking wet and mad as hell, whirling our shockrods like swords at the end of their wrist thongs, so fast they were buzzing, so fast they were blazing white-hot blurs—and everyone we hit went down crackling with electricity. We had learned the technique during the pursuit after our breakthrough into Level X. On the job training. I can't recommend it.

  We cut our way into that room, and Arcwhite children and Arcangel biogens threw themselves at us wildly, swinging their own shockrods. They were no match for us. We were screaming, suicidal banshees, not pausing for an instant, sparks flying off our shockrods, two burning circles of power. We knew one slight touch from an enemy shockrod would put us down instantly. It was quite a motivator.

  KCA was a fool. One vac gun would have stopped us. But he didn't have one vac gun. Starfleet had plenty of firepower to defend the planet but KCA didn't even trust his own security guards, downside.

  "Thinker!" Scrapper was hammering the last of the Arcangels, who were inexplicably retreating out another door, leaving a room full of wounded children. I was about to pursue them when I saw Priestess strapped to the bed.

  "Priestess!" What the hell! I spotted a control pad on one of the bedposts and hit it and the cuffs snapped loose and I gathered Priestess into my arms and ripped the gag off. She gasped, exhausted, drained, taking great gulps of air.

  "Thinker!" Scrapper tossed me a spare shockrod from the carpet. I forced it onto Priestess's hands and helped her to stand. An older Arcwhite boy straightened up from the floor. Priestess kicked him right in the face without a word, and began stripping the silky white clothing from his unconscious form.

  "Right size," she said. "That was KCA."

  "What?"

  "You just chased KCA out of the room. The bastard is dressed in white pants—no shirt. Let's go!" She pulled on a shirt over Arcwhite pants.

  "KCA!" I shouted to Scrapper. "White pants, no shirt! Follow the biogens!"

  Chapter 29

  False God

  Take the stairs, Thinker. He's on the next level. Hurry!" Snow Leopard said urgently.

  A wild mob of Arcwhites and Outworlders and Ormans and Cyrillians and Mocains and even a few Arcangels rushed past us in a panic, ignoring us, shouting to each other.

  "The reactor is critical! Got to evac!"

  "There's no escape! Blow the water out from X, or we all die!"

  "The Leader. Where is the Leader?"

  "We can't authorize…"

  "Hello, hello…answer, please!" An Arcangel, on a comset. Even biogens don't want to die.

  A wide, padded staircase. Scrapper and Priestess and I went charging up as several Arcangels came tumbling down, shockrods flying. Dragon was poised at the top of the stairs, shirtless, bleeding from several knife wounds, head up, perfect combat stance, almost floating on the balls of his bare feet. A white blur came at him, he connected with a thrust kick, and the figure disappeared. Dragon dropped back onto that perfect ready stance. He was weaponless. Weaponless! The man was nothing but a weapon!

  "Come on up, gang," he said calmly. "Always room for a few more. Watch out for the kids. They've all got knives."

  It was a vast circular office, the walls covered with d-screens and holo starmaps, the room full of conference and commo desks and holo tables. They were all active, but nobody was looking at them. The place was full of white-clad Arcwhites, fanatic and wildly excited children and youths waving knives and shockrods, and icy-eyed Arcangels, lovely doomed biogen girls, also in white, the Supreme Leader's guard force, focused totally on his defense. A massive cenite column occupied the center of the hall—the escape tube! A shirtless man with dark hair and darkish skin was bent over what appeared to be a personnel hatch, set into the tube. It was fully closed.

  "That's him," Priestess said. KCA! He uncoiled like a snake, rising to face us, a shockrod dangling from one hand. For a moment all was quiet except for the buzzing of shockrods, and the muffled bleating of the red alert claxons, as we faced that formidable gang of Arcangels and Arcwhites, pausing, on the brink.

  "Recon," KCA said calmly. "Welcome. Congratulations—on making it this far. But this is as far as you go. You die here. Hope you have no objections to killing children on your way out. Arcwhites! Arcangels! These are the assassins who have come to kill the Supreme Leader. Now it is time to prove your love. Kill them! Kill them all!"

  They came at us in unison, singing some mad song, swinging shockrods and waving knives. I charged the mob, swinging my shockrod in a great circle, downing Arcangels and Arcwhites alike, focused on KCA like an imprinted, mad dog biogen. An irresistible stampede of children suddenly trampled me to the carpet, my shockrod torn away, feet and fists pounding at me, a wild tangle of bodies piling on, knives slashing. I snatched the knife from my belt and cut my way out. One child screamed, blood pourin
g from his chest, another pale in shock, grasping a bloody arm. I stood there for a moment panting, encircled by Arcwhites. My arms were bleeding, my chest was burning. I stripped off my sodden shirt and wrapped it around my left arm. I had a bad cut on my chest. KCA was still by the escape tube, but he stared at me, almost in fascination.

  "You're Beta Three," he said. "I've seen your holos. Beta Three! I'll be damned." He tossed aside his shockrod and pulled out a hotknife and triggered it. It burnt like lava, lighting up his face. He came at me, the hotknife extended. "Kill the others!" he shouted. "I'll take this one."

  Dragon and Priestess and Scrapper formed a fighting circle off to one side and the Arcwhites and Arcangels attacked like a pack of ravenous bloodcats. The bodies were piling up but I could only see KCA, coming at me, bent on murder.

  It was instantly obvious that he was a hotknife ace. He glided up to me behind the extended, glowing knife, probing gently, slicing back and forth effortlessly, his free hand held loosely behind his back. The Arcwhites circled around us excitedly but stayed out of our way. My own blade was the dark, utilitarian combat knife I had picked up off the floor of KCA's bedroom. It was a DefCorps knife—cold but indestructible. I dropped into knife stance and countered two of KCA's thrusts, deflecting his hot knife upwards. The contact heated up my blade. He slashed twice, a double slice past my belly. I could feel the heat. He thrust and I dropped, jabbing upwards, my blade sinking into his forearm. He gasped and jerked backwards, slashing wildly. He bled badly from his knife arm, giving me a blast of hatred from cold reptilian eyes. I attacked, slashing a wild butterfly pattern as he backed up. My knife glanced off his, showering us with sparks.

  "Arcwhites—attack!" They came at me with knives, shouting with joy, slashing recklessly. No shockrods. My only worry was bleeding to death. Children! I slashed horizontally. Two of them went down screaming, spraying blood. An older youth, hot eyes, thrusting. I slashed down and cut back, opening up his chest. A younger child, shouting, hurled his whole body at me, the knife clenched in a two handed grip. I gave him a backhand punch to the face and opened up his arm with the blade. Hot blood spurted all over me. Children! Our own children! KCA's face bobbed hazily in the background. I cut my way through the children viciously, consumed by hatred, aching to plunge my blade right into his heart. Nothing mattered except his death.