"Badboy, Big Kid! We've got a distress beacon—it's your aircar jock, Beta Ten. Badboy, Big Kid, repeat, distress beacon from your aircar jock—do you read it, acknowledge?"
"Oh, Deadman!"
"Aircar closing—this is…"
"Evade, evade!"
"That's Ten! Beta Ten! Are you getting that signal?"
"Badboy, Big Kid—we've got you on scope, one Systie aircar behind you, closing fast. What's your status, over?"
"Oh, we're fine—SCUT!"
"No life signs from Coolhand!"
"Mag charge! Keep him alive, Valkyrie!"
"Sassin—critical!"
"Oh damn! Damn damn damn damn!"
"Deadman, don't let him die!"
"Deceptors!" Whit slammed a tiny fist down on the controls and the sky exploded all around us and we were in a hot drop to the deck and suddenly in a forest, crashing through the underbrush, a leafy green cathedral all around us, black tree trunks flashing past like ancient stone columns. Whit took us to a faint stream and we followed it into the woods, mikes above the water, trailing a shock wave of water vapor and shredded leaves.
"We've got to pick up Redhawk."
"Keep going, pilot! You're leaving him behind!"
"Coolhand, Coolhand! Please! Live, damn you, live! Coolhand!"
"We go to pick up Redhawk, now! Do you have the beacon on scope?"
"No response! There's no response! Hit it again!"
"Affirmative. Just let us shake this aircar." Whit's face was beaded with cold sweat. The deceptors had done the trick. The DefCorps aircar was wasting time dealing with phantoms.
I could taste the mags on my tongue—it was all that was keeping me conscious. Priestess was curled in a foetal ball under a tangle of equipment. I tore it away, frantic. Bloody fleshpads, all over her chest. Her eyes were open—she was breathing!
"Priestess, Priestess—answer me!" Her eyes focused on me. Her mouth opened.
"Thinker…"
"Don't talk! I'm right here! You're all right—stay awake!"
"…hurts…"
"Gimme that medpack!"
A hand on my arm. It was Merlin. "She's had a charge, Thinker. No more!"
"You stay awake, Priestess!"
"Faster! Have you got the zero?"
"Got it, got it!"
"No response!" A muffled scream from Valkyrie. She hit the charge again, again, again. "Please…please…please…" It was Coolhand they were working on, I slowly realized. I watched, stunned. It was like a fever dream, and Dragon and Valkyrie were armored demons hovering over one of their own, the A-suit still glowing, scarlet blood bubbling.
"No response."
"No! No! No! No!" Valkyrie continued triggering the biotic charger. Coolhand's blood splattered all over his A-suit, but he was not there any more. He had joined the phantom army, the Legion of the Dead. I turned my head away.
He had been my first friend in the Legion. I could not believe it. I simply could not grasp it. It was a mistake. Surely it was a mistake.
The humanoid still had Tara in his arms. She was gasping. I moved over to her in a trance, and opened my medkit. I pressed a biomag onto one arm and triggered it.
The creature did not object. Tara stirred, and her eyes fluttered open. She looked so fragile, like a lost child.
"Wester…" she whispered, "…it's you."
"Yes, Tara—it's me. Don't try to talk—you'll be all right."
"You're wounded."
"It's nothing." It's only my heart, I thought, and my soul.
"I came for you, Wester."
"I know you did."
"I'm sorry, Wester—I'm sorry!" There were tears in Tara's eyes. The humanoid put his ugly face right next to Tara's—he was giving her a big, wet kiss. He was beaming.
"Gildron!" Tara flashed a beautiful smile. She was coming around. "Gildron, you're all right!" The creature was whimpering and drooling.
"We're closing on that beacon," Whit said. We were out of the forest. The sky was dark and cloudy—raindrops spattered against the plex.
"Faster!" Millina urged. "That aircar will be on us soon."
"Again! Again! Biotic charge!" Valkyrie and Dragon and Merlin and Psycho were struggling over Sassin's bloody form. He was slipping away, fading away, and all the magtech wonders of the Legion could not bring him back.
"He's gone!"
"Keep trying! Keep trying!" Valkyrie was in tears, hysterical, banging away with the charger. They had a breather in his mouth and the charger had ahold of his heart, and his lungs were still going, but it was hopeless. The life signs were all flat.
"Negative life."
"No! No! No! Keep trying!" Smoke was rising from Sassin's scorched flesh.
"Valkyrie—he's gone. He's gone. Valkyrie, please." Merlin gently pulled Valkyrie away from the body. Her armored hands were scarlet with blood.
And Sassin the Assassin, Gamma Seven, was at last, truly, immortal. I was so stunned I could only lie there, sprawled on the deck between Priestess and Tara, ice cold flashes rippling over my flesh inside the A-suit, waiting, under siege, for whatever was to come next.
"Badass, Badboy. Respond!" Dragon was in the cockpit now between Whit and Millina, calling Redhawk. We were out of the forest. A road flashed past below, then grasslands, then a series of forested ridges.
"Badboy, Badass! Am I glad to hear your voice! Get me outta here!" He was right up ahead. The forest was burning, strewn with wreckage. A greasy cloud of black smoke shot past us. Then we spotted Beta Ten, hobbling out of the woods in a scorched A-suit.
"Enemy aircar heading this way!"
"Oh no—hurry!" The door popped open as we hovered in a whirling cloud of smoke and leaves. Dragon and Merlin hauled Redhawk in. He collapsed on the deck.
"Get out of here!" The door slammed shut.
"Enemy aircar closing!" Redhawk scrambled to his feet and forced his way into the cockpit.
"Give me the controls!" he demanded. Millina relinquished the seat next to Whit. Redhawk punched the power and we were off in a dizzying arc, up, then down, the forest rushing at us, then whipping past as we proceeded at treetops back the way we had come.
"It's going the wrong way," Whit objected, "It's headed right for the DefCorps aircar!"
"I know," Redhawk responded quietly. "Where's the freakin' armament? Is that…"
"Yes, it's a DefCorps chainlink, but it's not going to shoot it out, is it? We've got to get out of here!"
"Somebody shut her down," Redhawk requested, dropping the car below treetop level. A green blur flashed past all around us—my heart was in my mouth.
"Don't interfere," Dragon cautioned Whit. "Redhawk knows what he's doing."
"If it knows what it's doing, how did it get shot down?" Whit asked shakily.
"There were four of them," Redhawk retorted angrily. "Now shut down."
"DefCorps aircar closing!" the car warned.
"Come, you bitch," Redhawk muttered. He snapped the controls up. We burst through the forest roof up into the clear; rainclouds close above.
"We are on a collision course!" The aircar called out.
I had seen Redhawk do this before, and I never liked it. The enemy aircar glowed on the screen.
"Come to Daddy, come, you bitch."
"Chainlink functional—lockon! Enemy has locked on!"
"Missiles! Ignition!" Redhawk squeezed the trigger. A sharp burst, then we made a ninety degree turn and I almost blacked out and suddenly we were back in the forest, back in the shadows, trees flashing past, a luminous green roof flickering overhead. Redhawk released deceptors behind us.
I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth—how in the world did he do it? A series of explosions reached our ears, shockwaves shaking the car. The scope was littered with junk.
"Direct hit, gang." Redhawk pulled the aircar brutally out of the forest, exploding through the treetops, rain hitting the plex.
"That was not bad," Whit said quietly.
"I'm good in bed, too," Redhawk replied.