what they had told us since the very beginning. And this wasn't justice.
Ironman was in the front row of the holo. I had done a star tracer to Alpha Station, asking them to tell Moontouch that I was alive, and Ironman was dead. She would relay the news to Ironman's Taka girlfriend, Morning Light. Someone had to speak for the dead. In my world, even some of the living might as well be dead. I knew Moontouch awaited me on Andrion, praying in the dark to strange Gods, and there was not a chance in a million that I would ever return to her. Moontouch was my lover, my wife, my lost future. I did not know what to do about Moontouch. She must have had my baby by now—I was starting a new race, all by myself. Half Legion and half Taka—he would be a tough little kid, a survivor. I could hear the Legion chant, echoing in my head.
'I carry my seed to cold new worlds
To raise me up strong children
Who will dwell in the stars…'
Moontouch—she was an enchanted dream, a fever dream. Yes, I had to make plans about Moontouch and the baby. It was not going to be easy. I would surely never see Moontouch again, and I would never have the pleasure of touching my own child. That was life in the Legion. All you could do was live for today, and stay out of the way of the lasers. I accepted it—I was a soldier of the Legion.
I had no idea what Tara wanted. What could I possibly do that nobody else could? There was only one way to find out.
Chapter 14:
The Trouble with Katag
A wet cool breeze washed over us, tingling our flesh. It was a clear crisp morning. Mica was a white orb, glittering in a brilliant white sky streaked with wispy silver clouds. We wore Legion coldcoats, stepping carefully in light gravity. It was a magnificent morning, so beautiful it was downright eerie. I had called Tara upon arrival at the port, and she had told us to rent an aircar. Now we were at her villa, past a formidable sliding cenite gate set in a tall stone wall covered with razor vines.
It was quite a villa, two stories with lots of shaped stone and darkened plex, set in a garden of bright green grass and pale purple flowers and strange willowy trees.
Priestess hesitated on the walkway before the door, looking up to the sky. A faint shiver ran over her flesh. A few birds flew over, calling out. A sudden anger flashed over me.
'Forget it!' I hissed. 'This is nonsense! It's all crap! None of this is real—so just forget it!'
'It's so peaceful!' Priestess exclaimed, almost in despair.
'It's a graveyard!' I said. 'Of course it's peaceful. We don't belong here—so just get it out of your mind!'
Dragon touched the doorbell and chimes sounded, soft notes hanging in the air. The door hissed open. The ape stood there, Tara's man-ape, a huge retarded humanoid dressed in elektra violet, massive arms with big hairy hands. His lips went back to show his teeth. 'Wer-kong,' he said. He stood aside and motioned for us to enter. Dragon was measuring the beast up as if he was planning to challenge him to a little arm-wrestling.
The ape led us through the villa to a sun-drenched room overlooking an extra-large swimming pool that glittered like molten gold. Tara sat in a sofa by a low marble table littered with com gear and minicards and d- screens. An E lay on the carpeted floor. Tara looked up and smiled, a vision of languid beauty. She was so lithe and slender; she appeared to be not quite real, a girl from another world, a little bit closer to perfection than our own species.
'Hello, Wester! Glad you could drop by. Please have a seat. Would anyone like some dox?' She was so casual I started to burn. Did she have any idea how difficult it had been for us to get there?
We found seats around the table. The room was decorated with strange objects collected from many worlds. The ape disappeared to get the dox. Tara looked us over with a faint smile.
'This is Priestess,' I said. 'And Dragon. You may not remember them. But they remember you—well.'
'I remember them both,' Tara said quietly. She seemed suddenly very subdued.
I placed three expended farecards on the table. I tried not to look at her. There were too many memories. I suppose I was still angry. 'We've used all your funds,' I said. 'How can we help you?'
Tara did not answer immediately. She picked up a datacard, then put it down. Her gaze fluttered around the room. She avoided looking at us. Finally she spoke. 'It wasn't easy for me,' she said, her eyes focused on the swimming pool, 'sending that star tracer. No, it wasn't easy. I'm the sort of person who fights her own battles. I've never needed anyone's help before.'
The ape reappeared with a tray of steaming dox. The aroma hit me as he set the tray down. 'Thank you, Gildron,' Tara said. She seemed happy with the interruption.
'Nartsing,' Gildron responded. Then he padded away again.
'Please—help yourselves,' Tara urged us. 'I hope the trip was all right. This is Mica home brew—hot and sweet. They export it—it's pretty good.'
I tried it. It was indeed very good. It was strange, seeing Tara this nervous. Tara did not shake easily—she was tough as cenite armor.
'It's funny,' she continued. 'I've made a lot of sacrifices in my life for the Legion. I've never asked anything, and I've given all I had. Now, for the first time, I need something—for myself. Do you know what they told me? They said no. No, for all my work. They gave me a lot of good reasons—but it was no.' Her eyes flickered over us all, and she took a sip of dox. 'And then I looked around to see who would help me—anyway. And you know what I found? I had Gildron, and a crew of loyal Cyrillians. They'd help me, if they could—but they couldn't, not in this case. There wasn't anyone else.' She put down her cup. 'That's when I thought of you, Wester. I wouldn't have called you if I didn't need you.'
I carefully put down my dox. 'We're here, Tara. You asked for my help, and you've got it. So what's the problem?'
'You say the Legion wouldn't help you?' Dragon cut in. It was a troubling concept.
'No, they wouldn't,' Tara confirmed. 'Tell me…are you here officially or unofficially?'
'I'm here as your friend,' I said. 'Unofficially. And Dragon and Priestess as well. We're on sick leave— officially.'
'And you won't be prepping any reports on this when you return?'
'No—we won't.'
Tara looked out to the swimming pool again. Her eyes were misting over. She licked her lips once, pale pink tongue. My heart gave me a jolt. I sure didn't need that.
'You realize…' she said, 'that I wouldn't have called you half way across the galaxy if this was an easy matter to resolve.'
'We realize that,' I replied.
Her eyes came back to me. Magical, swirling dark eyes, worlds of mystery, a hot typhoon of rain. A whirlpool, sucking me right in. 'What are you prepared to do,' she asked, 'to help me?'
I glanced over to Dragon, then to Priestess. 'We'll do anything you want,' I replied. It was only the truth—we owed her our lives. I picked up my dox and took a sip. Good dox. The preliminaries were over. Now we would find out what this was all about. And how many laws we'd have to break.
Tara raised her chin, and long silky hair swirled around her shoulders. The fire was back in her eyes. The transformation was visible. Tara was back in command. She reached down and touched a datacard. A vision appeared to one side of our table, a holo of a slim pale girl, life-sized, dressed in elektra violet, shimmering in a field of light. Wispy short blonde hair, watery blue eyes—I recognized her. It was Tara's assistant, the P.S.
