***
The envirosim rooms were terrifying and exhausting. I had set the simulators to reflect everything that could possibly go wrong. We did it all. Three days were not enough. I stretched it to four, then five, then six. We were on straight adrenalin for six days.
The warped genius who designed the system should get a medal. When we started out we were surprised and blasted, again and again, by Systies, ConFree, O's, and our own squad, ripped by auto x-max, shredded with canister darts, sliced by lasers, blasted by tacstars, annihilated in starmass, blown to pieces by mines and grenades. When we finished we were doing it right and our reflexes were razor-sharp. The envirosim concept is wonderful. It took us from the beginning to the end of the mission, from the instant the airlock door snapped open in the Star of Dindabai to the moment it closed again behind us. We ran to the Mound, fought our way in and shot up everything that moved with our weapons, and it was exactly like being there. The sim adjusted itself all around us, no matter how fast we ran. And if you think they can't sim starmass, you'd be wrong. Getting trapped in that stuff in sim was almost as scary as the real thing, I guarantee. The damned A-suit heats up inside and scorches your flesh, and gets worse and worse until you fight your way out. It was terrifying.
Six days of hell. We did it, and by the end we were exhausted but ready. All we needed was some sleep.
***
"Wester—wake up!" It was Tara, shaking me awake. We had all crashed in the A-suit locker as usual after the last simulated mission, struggling out of the A-suits and collapsing onto the sleeping bags lining the deck. The place still stank of hot metal and burning gas and sweat and fear. What the hell was Tara doing up? She had been with us. I blinked and tried to focus on her.
"What?"
"Get up! It's important!" She was still beaded with sweat, her hair was stringy and plastered over her forehead, and her face was red with burns.
"Yeah." I forced myself to sit up. The others were all out. Some were snoring—others were twitching, still in the Mound in their nightmares.
"The D-neg time drive tested out perfectly. The techs told me they believe it will work."
"Can you tell me about that after I wake up?"
"No! Get up, Wester. Come with me."
I followed her groggily out to the cold lights of the corridor. She sealed the door behind us, then turned immediately to face me. "I've just received a message from Dindabai Command," she said. "From Two Two One."
"Yes? What did he say?"
She clutched a printout in one hand. She glanced at it nervously, then looked back at me. "You remember I sent a text alert earlier, about the success of our mission and the fact that we have a workable D-neg drive."
"I remember. Isn't the vid working correctly yet?"
"Not yet. I also mentioned that we have one probe that is rotten with D-neg."
"Yes."
"This is his response. He congratulates us on the success of the mission. We are to proceed directly to Dindabai. The Uldo Experiment is to be postponed. What we have is too valuable to risk, he says. We are to turn the probe over to Dindabai Command, get debriefed on our mission, and allow the Legion to examine the D-neg drive in detail. He regrets having to postpone Uldo, but adds that the history of the Galaxy hangs in the balance."
I was wide-awake by then. My whole existence seemed to rush in on me, focusing right then, right there, on Tara's stricken face. My flesh was suddenly ice cold.
"It's a direct order, Wester. From Dindabai Command. From Two Two One."
"If we don't do it now, it won't get done," I said, slowly and carefully. "They'll always find something more important, some good reason not to do Uldo. Do you agree?"
"You're probably right."
"What did they call it? The Uldo Experiment?"
"That's what it says." She was holding the printout up, and her hand was trembling.
"It's not an experiment to me," I said. "It's a rescue mission. And it's the most important mission we have ever undertaken. Those are our brothers and sisters in Beta."
"Yes. Yes, I feel the same." She was obviously stunned, still staring at the offending orders. They had promised us Uldo. They had promised!
I looked at her, and she looked back at me. And all our years together and all our years apart were in that glance. We didn't have to say a word. I think we both knew, instinctively, what we were going to do.
"I'm still in command, aren't I?" I asked her.
"Yes, Wester. You are in command."
"Will you obey my orders?"
"I will obey your orders without question."
"Even if my orders are clearly illegal?"
"Even if your orders are clearly illegal."
"Tara. I don't give a good Goddamn for the history of the Galaxy. All I care about is Beta. Don't answer that message. Turn off that damned starlink. I need six hours so we can get some sleep and wake up in top form. Then I want you to do the time jump, and land us on Uldo next to the Mound, just as planned, at 0804 hours on 314/06/17 ConFree Galactic Standard. We're doing the mission. We're doing what's right. And I don't care about the consequences!"
"God bless you, Wester. I'm with you, all the way!" We embraced and I closed my eyes and we were together, for one eternal moment in the onrushing flow of time. Tara crumpled the message in one fist.
"Death!" she hissed in my ear.
"Death it is," I whispered back.
Chapter 18
The Uldo Experiment
We've never done anything quite this crazy before," Whit declared. Five of us were strapped into the fold-down emergency seats lining the bulkheads in the loading dock by one of the Strike Force airlocks. We were in full armor, helmets on, clutching our weaponry. We all had E Mark 3's except Eight. He had the Manlink.
"Aren't you the same girl who insisted on coming along?" I asked.
"Yes, but we're so scared we're about to pee in our pants," she responded shakily.
"Wester!" Tara's face filled a d-screen on the wall. "Are you people all set?" Her helmet was off, but she was in her A-suit, strapped into the command chair up on the bridge.
"Ready as we'll ever be," I replied. I was balancing the E between my knees. I swear I could feel the damned thing, icy cold, right through my cenite gloves. It was comforting—instant death, on tap. The tacmap field was blank, a faint green phospho ghost, lower left plate. A quick glance around the inside of my helmet revealed all greens. I had so much ordnance strapped to my A-suit I could have started a war all by myself. A single bead of sweat trickled down one temple.
"We're going to do it, Thinker," Dragon said calmly. He was almost lounging in his A-suit behind the massive Manlink. I could see into his faceplate, two deep, sunken eyes, glittering with menace. Only Dragon could appear to be relaxed in an A-suit. I had never known anyone with more raw confidence than Beta Eight, or better reason for it.
"You're damn' right we are!" I choked. Redhawk was looking around nervously, fully hyper. I knew he would be as cold as ice once the shooting started. Valkyrie was frozen in her seat, silent, but her fingers were running gently along her E like a lover's caress. I could make out the Legion cross on her forehead and a hint of her cold green eyes. I knew her thoughts were far away. She was going after herself and Scrapper, and anyone—or anything—that got in her way was going to regret it.
"Attention the ship," Tara announced. "We are about to do a field test on the Star of Dindabai's D-neg time drive. As you all know, this is not just a field test—it's a rescue mission. Five Legion troopers are in terminal trouble, and we're coming to help them. Past all the barriers of space and time, past all the years, past history itself. We're coming—just as we'd come for any one of you. As overall mission commander, I take full responsibility for this mission. We have locked on to our target, a hot zero on the surface of the planet Uldo, deep in enemy territory, in the morning of 06/17 in the year 314 CGS. I'd advise everyone to stand by. If the drive works as advertised, we're expecting some unusual e
ffects. Comtops on. Pilot, initiate time drive."
"INITIATING TIME DRIVE!"
I closed my eyes, leaning my head back in the helmet. Initiating time drive! Now it is to be—success, or failure. Victory, or defeat. I prayed to Deadman and cursed the Gods of Hell. We're coming, Satan—right out of nowhere. Do your damnedest! I'm going to drill you with explosive canister darts, I'm going to nuke you, Satan—you and all your evil dwarfs. All the crap is finally over, all the training, all the delays, all the problems. Now we're going to kick in the door, at last, and all our enemies are going to die—Systies, ConFree, O's—anyone who opposes us. Anyone at all!
A shiver ran over the ship. A vibration, in the cenite bones of the hull. Building. A deep humming. It grew—louder. Louder. Louder!
"The D-neg chamber is spinning, Wester." Tara whispered a progress report in my ears. "It's building the field. It's almost infinitely dense, Wester. And it's rotating faster and faster. When the grav field is strong enough, spacetime will warp, and the D-neg will pull us along, all the way to Uldo, all the way into the past. It's like having our own black hole." The D-neg drive was up in the boom, swirling around madly, building on its own momentum, speeding ever faster, eventually approaching the speed of light. Only the unitium stasis and the effects of the grav field itself protected us from being instantly annihilated along with the entire ship. Our own black hole! Terrific—I had never quite thought of it that way.
My A-suit was vibrating. The cenite armor was singing to me. I thought I could hear the music of the stars again. The vibrations were running through my body, now. I could feel it in my bones. We were doing the impossible, ripping a hole in time, turning back the clocks, laughing at the Gods. One tiny error and we'd die, winking out of existence in a blinding flash, a microfrac, and then it would be just as if we had never been there. The Gods probably never even noticed us.
I prayed again. I pledged my soul to Deadman for the lives of my comrades. Just get us there, Deadman. We'll do the rest! Just let my feet touch the soil of Uldo, on that fatal day—that's all I ask.
The vibration built to a massive, booming hum, a thunderous hum. The ship was ringing like a great bell and I felt as if the tremendous cosmic forces that were building all around us would rip our bodies apart.
"FIELD IS FORMED!" I could barely hear it above the roaring of the ship. A great surge rushed over us. All the lights in my helmet blinked off. Something seized my body in a massive, invisible grip. And we were falling, blind and helpless, into the past. I could feel it rushing over us at the speed of light. My heart was pumping wildly.
A titanic bang rattled the ship, almost deafening us. It was like the crack of doom. It echoed, for a long time, the sound rolling down the corridors. My adrenalin was at max.
"What the hell was that?"
An eerie silence followed the time boom. I thought I could hear a faint whispering, but it might have been the ringing in my ears from the boom.
"EXITING TIME DRIVE!" There was a faint shudder, gradually fading.
"Perfect! Stabilized—land it!"
"What's the fix?"
"The date! Look at…"
"The time, the time!"
"Look at that!"
"Touching down!" Voices, from the bridge. We were paralyzed, trapped in our A-suits, listening with all our concentration.
"Wester—we did it. We're here!"
"Get your butt down here!" I snapped. "Links off! Safeties off! Tac mode! Psybloc on! Prep to exit!" The loading dock exploded with activity as we scrambled to our feet, loaded down with weapons and gear. All the lights inside my helmet were once again a soothing green.
"I am ready, Three. All systems fully functional. Weapons integrated. Tacmap ready. Awaiting your commands." It was Sweety, Persist, my tacmod, a calm clear feminine voice. I had lost the original on Andrion 2, but I had reproduced the voice as best I could. How could I fail, with Sweety at my side once again?
Tara burst into the loading dock, fitting her helmet over her head, an E strapped to her chest.
"What's the time?"
"Countdown on…37…36…35…34…"
Timing would be critical. We paused there briefly before the airlock door, awaiting the count.
"Are we really here, Tara?" I could hardly believe it was real.
"Yes!" Her answer left no doubt.
I glanced around as the clock ticked down. Six fully psyched troopers, soldiers of the Legion, in cold black armor and sinister red faceplates, wielding a fearsome array of weaponry, the psybloc units on top of our helmets faintly pulsing on ready status. A system check showed all weapons systems were activated. If terror has a name, it is a Legion squad ready for action. I didn't even notice it. My whole being was focused on that door.
"…three…two…one…"
The airlock door popped open abruptly, admitting a cold breeze, revealing a luminous pale grey sky and a flat, treeless plain, covered with a thin layer of dry packed snow. My eyes were drawn immediately to the horizon. It was right there, clearly visible from inside the airlock—the Mound! A great, dark earthen mound, dusted with a light layer of snow, glittering in the sunlight. Smoke was drifting from hidden vents on top. I was paralyzed, transfixed by the sight for just an instant. The Mound—the source of all my troubles. It was actually there. And we—we were actually here! It hit me right in the stomach. The Mound—it was exactly as we had last seen it!
"Death!"
"Exit! Squad X initiating operation!" I reported. We burst from the airlock, guns up, and my boots hit the gritty soil of Uldo. The Star of Dindabai loomed above us, a massive presence, landing skids sunk deep into Uldo's earth, the ship blasting out a merciless barrage of deceptor and cloaking images to mask its presence downside. I knew it would be only partially effective. It was crazy, landing a starship downside, but we had no choice.
We ran, starbursting to attack formation out from under the Star of Dindabai into Uldo's weak sunlight. Not a single word was necessary. We had done this many times in the sim rooms, but this was real—overwhelmingly real.
"Movement! Unarmored personnel, no weapons, as marked!" Sweety's voice rang in my ears. The Mound was bouncing around in my faceplate as I ran, the suit assisting me, and it was almost as if I was a spectator, trapped in an invincible cenite running machine. My eyes were rivetted on the Mound. I could see the doors now, a dark opening at ground level. I noted the movement, off to one side of the doors.
"Max magnification!" Sweety brought it up to me on the faceplate, top right. The view was jerky but clear. The main doors were open! We had practiced blasting those massive cenite gates open, again and again, in sim, but I had always expected them to be open, after Blue Gold busted their way in. A ragged group of hopeless, skeletal Uldo civilians were clustered together outside to one side of the gaping entrance, waiting for death. Men, women and children—good Lord! These were the same people we had left outside when we had originally blasted our way into the Mound. We had used them as cover to approach it. It was true. It was all true! It was 314/06/17 CGS, and Squad Beta, Black Jade, was back to reclaim its own!
"X, Base, report!" Gildron was calling us from the ship. We had a different name now, we were X instead of Beta or Black Jade, but we sure as hell weren't a different squad. Tara had insisted Gildron stay on board to command the ship, and to stay with the Star. He was not happy about it, but he recognized the logic.
"Base, X, nothing to report!" I replied. We were sprinting, spraying clots of snow as we ran. It was a clear, cold day.
"No psyprobe!" Tara gasped. She was behind me, to my left.
"Movement inside…" Sweety began.
"Permission…" Dragon interrupted.
"Fire!" I ordered. Dragon was just ahead of me, now suddenly dropping to one knee, bringing up the Manlink. The Manlink spoke and reality split, a gut-wrenching shriek. A tacstar flashed inside the open doorway of the Mound, an artificial sun of elemental power, spraying shredded wreckage out the door. The shock wave almost knoc
ked me off my feet, but I charged forward heedlessly.
The Mound was closer. Massive, dark, still, intimidating. Closer. Closer! Looming over us now. The gaping doorway was glowing, aflame.
"Fire auto xmax!" I ordered. We approached the doorway behind a deafening hail of autofire. The interior erupted, again, flashing like a fireworks factory going up, the xmax concussions blasting a wild tracery of phospho shrapnel out the door. I could feel little pieces of cenite, pinging off my armor. Nothing could possibly be alive in there.
We entered, stepping into a great smoky hall illuminated only by the fires that were smouldering on the deck and walls. This was Reception. The walls were scorched and riddled with x and the floor was littered with bloody, mutilated body parts. It was a charnel house. We stepped gingerly between severed limbs and smoking bodies. A decapitated head stared at me with sightless eyes, grey brains spilling from a shattered skull. Two Legion A-suits were sprawled by one wall, the armor still glowing red. My adrenalin gave me a jolt. I approached the two prone figures. Dragon was with me, the barrel of his Manlink hovering just above the two stricken A-suits.
"No insignia," Dragon said. "These guys are ConFree." I turned one of them over. The cenite chestplate was split open, the armor burnt white and still smoking. The man's head moved stiffly behind the scorched faceplate, but fortunately I could not get a good look inside.
"The other one's dead, too," Redhawk said, crouching over him. Tara and Whit and Valkyrie were against the walls, guns up and scanning. The ceiling was wreathed in mist. We could barely make out great coils of blackened cenite.
Secret of the Legion Page 36