"Precisely—well put! Yes, that's exactly it. Justice before all, Justice over all, Justice first and everything else second. 'I have burnt the book of laws, to serve the Deadman's cause.' That's our creed, isn't it? I know what Justice means. I'm paying for my sins, Wester. But it's all right with me. I'm happy here. We're doing something good, Wester, something simple and good, for our people. We're marching in the mud, for God, for Justice."
"What is your problem, Tara? You once told me you were on a Mission from God. I thought that a little strange, considering your occupation."
She hesitated, and shook her head. It was dark—I couldn't really see her face. "My sins are too horrible to relate, Wester. You know what I've been. I'm Cintana Tamaling, galactic slaver. I've delivered thousands of hopeless innocents into the gates of Hell. But it was all for the Legion, Wester—every breath I draw is for the Legion. I was the perfect asset with the perfect cover. Nobody in the System would ever suspect Cintana Tamaling of being a Legion agent—the very concept was unthinkable. I was on the Legion death list, after all, along with my whole crew. I was slavery's notorious Black Lotus, infamous throughout the System, and not a single one of my slaves will ever forget me. They carry my mark. It's a debt, Wester—a debt."
"Oh, wonderful. So the Legion was sponsoring a slaver! Terrific. I knew you were reporting to them, but I didn't know they were actively backing you. I hope you're going to tell me why."
"I'm paying, Wester. Right now. I was phenomenally successful—more successful than we had ever dared dream. We've got the entire galactic network now—there's not a single organization that didn't deal with me. Every world I visited is marked. Every slaver, every Systie official, every cop, every expeditor, every last, sleazy crim, everyone who lifted a finger or held open a door—they're all on the death list now, every single one."
"Great! So they're on the list! How many slaves did you sell for that?"
"It's the wheel of history, Wester. I knew an angel once—a psycher. He made me, Wester. He was a genius. He was tortured, obsessed, brilliant, insane, divine. My angel! He showed me the galaxy, the way it really was. He ripped the scales right off my eyes and it almost blinded me. I worship the man, but sometimes I think I'd kill him if I could. He was truly driven—he was mad, but he taught me everything. He whispered the Legion's darkest secrets into my ears, because I had to know. He cut the Legion cross right into my heart. He made me cry, he made me pray, for Justice. That was his God, and the Legion's God—Justice! He made me promise to fight for Justice, no matter what—no matter how hard it would be."
Tara paused to catch her breath. The gnats were still with us, snacking on my face. It was dark and cold.
"It was hard, Wester. It was so hard! It was only after I had promised that he told me everything—about what I would have to do. I was horrified when he told me. I cried with grief, for myself. Then he told me more. The Legion takes a long view of history, Wester—a very long view. Yes, I've been collecting names. I'm an undertaker, compiling a list of the dead. Only they aren't dead yet. But the hand of the Legion is on them now—they're all going to die, for Justice."
"And just how is the Legion going to do that?" I was nodding off, but I had to admit she told a good story.
"That's what my Angel told me, Wester. It's not just a theoretical exercise. These people are all going to die, on Judgment Day. And Judgment Day is coming for every System world. And on Judgment Day the evil will all die, and the innocent will be freed."
"Yeah?"
"Yes—the System is doomed, Wester. History is clear on that. And the Legion is clear on it as well. We know we must destroy the System, or it will destroy us. We must attack it head-on and not stop until the entire rotten structure collapses into fragments. Then we drive a stake into its heart, so it will never arise again."
"So we're going to replace their empire with ours?" I asked.
"No, Wester. The stage after empire is decay and dissolution—always. There are no exceptions, ever. ConFree knows that. We're never going to be an empire. We're going to smash the System, liberate all Outworlders who want to be liberated, ensure galactic slavery is dead, then return to our own sector and remain faithful to ourselves, our own people and our own traditions. The rest of the galaxy can do as they wish, once the System breaks up. But once we land on a Systie world, the slavers had best watch out. We're going to cleanse those worlds—all of them. It's not a paper plan, Wester; it's not a think piece. This is the Legion's goal. Slavery is to be annihilated from the Galaxy—along with the System that supports it. It may take generations, but the Legion has got plenty of time for Justice. That's the goal, Wester—Justice. But we're not doing it for some theoretical ideal, we're not doing it to conquer the galaxy or liberate humanity from its own stupidity. We're doing it for our own people, for every civilian housewife on every ConFree world who doesn't give a damn for politics and just wants to raise her family in peace—and for their children. And for all those Outworlders and Assidics who live in slavery under the System. And on Judgment Day, the Legion will fall from the sky and open the Book of Death, and everyone in the Book will die."
"That's crazy, Tara—that's the craziest thing I've ever heard." I really wanted to close my eyes and sleep.
"Yes—isn't it? They're really serious, Wester. Millions are going to die! And it's all I ever wanted from life. You remember me—even as a child, I was always outraged by what I saw. All I wanted was justice. Well, God should have mercy on people who get what they want."
"And what about all those slaves, all those lives you ruined?"
"Yes, we owe them too, Wester. We owe them justice as well. There's a White Book as well. Every one of my people is in there."
"Oh great! I'm sure that makes you feel a whole lot better! And what does the Legion give them, on Judgment day, assuming they're still alive—an apology?"
"A new life, Wester. Immortality. Peace. Everything. We give them everything. Life and Death, Wester—that's what we offer, on Judgment Day."
"Wonderful. Well, I'm glad to hear our leaders are completely insane. It should ensure that my lifestyle doesn't change."
"Yes—isn't it wonderful? This is all I ever want to do, Wester—walking in the mud with an E. It's my penance. I never want to see the Maiden again!"
Gildron moaned. Tara turned to him. "Oh, Gildron! Don't worry; I'll never leave you! I'll love you forever, old friend!"
I lay back, my head on my ratpack, and closed my eyes. I couldn't stay awake any more, not even with Tara's hypnotic voice whispering in my ears.
###
I dreamed about Moontouch. She came at me out of the dark in a cloud of incense. Candles flickered in the background and I knew she was in the Tomb of the Kings on Andrion 2, praying for my soul. She was as lovely as an angel fallen from the sky, a pale angel with long silken black hair and hypnotic eyes. She wore a black cloak and she held up a baby—a beautiful, strong, squirming baby boy with luminous skin and eyes that shone in the dark. There was a Legion cross burnt right onto the baby's forehead, and the crown and skull of the Book was etched onto his chest.
"Our Prince, Slayer," she said. "Behold our son—he is the Emperor of the Dark, the King of the Dead. I pray he may join these immortals, in time." The Kings of Southmark were lined up behind her, skeleton Kings propped up on their ancient thrones, ruling an empire of death. The baby cried out, the lusty voice of new life echoing in the Tomb of the Kings.
"We await you, my King," Moontouch said. "I am your slave—I guard your son with my life! I know you will return to me—I know it! I will cry rivers of tears until you return to see your son. He will be a great warrior, my King. He will lead into battle the hosts of the Armies of the Dead, and nothing will stand before him. He will rule for many years, and die in battle as a great King of Southmark, bathed in blood, and I will lie beside him in the Tomb of the Kings. You must return, to see our son!" Her lovely face was fierce and proud, but she was crying freely.