"Tenners."
"Ten."
"Does everybody agree?" There was a murmur of assent.
"Then we do it! All the way—we do it or die! Is everyone with me?"
"We're all with you, One," Valkyrie said. "Just give us the word!"
"This is our payback, gang," Snow Leopard said. "for everything! For Coldmark, for Andrion 3, for Mongera. This one's for Gamma. And Beta Two, and Six, and Seven." I could almost feel his icy rage.
"Damned straight," Valkyrie said. "Payback!"
"Anything moves, it dies," Snow Leopard said. "I want those psybloc grenades going off like firecrackers, gang—we've got plenty!"
"You hear that, Momma?" Psycho said to his Manlink. "Coolhand, Warhound and Ironman! They're going to be right beside us! Just like the old days! They're cutting us loose, Momma! If it moves, it dies! All right…all right! You heard the man!" Psycho was completely insane, but I was really glad he was on our side. He was the Angel of Death. Nothing ever happened to him—he was invincible. And I suddenly realized something. I went on private to One.
"One, Three."
"Yes, Three."
"Psycho has never spent any time in the body shop—other than routine physicals. He's never been wounded."
"Yes, I know, Thinker."
"The rest of us all have—except maybe Thirteen. So chances are we can trust Psycho."
"Well, I hope you're right, Thinker. Just stay alert—we'll be all right."
"Tenners." Of course, Snow Leopard already knew—he knew everything.
"ALERT!" Sweety shouted in my ears. "Systie armor, as marked! I have three A-suits! I have numerous unarmored humans—sixty…seventy…eighty-six, as marked!"
"Prep for combat," Snow Leopard ordered. "They'll spot us!" We were already combat dispersed. I switched my E to auto xmax. They were walking out of the east, evidently heading west, toward the Mound. We were northeast of the Mound, well hidden, but there was no way they were not going to detect us under this sky. I snapped down my visor and Sweety zoomed me in on them. They were still on the horizon, a long way off, just moving shadows against the snowy ground. They were walking slowly, trudging towards the Mound.
"Systies! Well, I'll be damned," Dragon said. "This can't be the bunch that was following us!"
"The walking dead," Psycho said quietly. "Can I use tacstars, One?"
"Nobody fires until I give the word," Snow Leopard responded. "Let's see what we've got first."
The wind picked up, moaning past my armor. We watched them approach, growing slowly in our scopes. Finally I made out the first figure—a DefCorps trooper, fully armored, a camfax smock flapping around him in the rising breeze. He carried an SG, walking slowly, step by weary step. It was obvious it had been a long march. Behind him—who were they? Civilians—a long line of civilians, dressed in rags and blankets, staggering forward, exhausted. I saw men, women, and children. What the hell? Who were these people?
Snow Leopard consulted a field map. "Massan," he said suddenly. "They've got to be from Massan. A big settlement, not a hundred K away. Captured some time ago by the O."
"But what's happening?" Priestess asked. "Are they going to the Mound? Why would Systie troopers be taking civilians to an Omni mound?"
"Don't know. Let's wait and see."
We waited, as the ragged line of civilians drew nearer. There were only three Systies in A-suits, the one in the front and two at the rear. All three had SG's. It soon became clear that the procession was indeed headed for the Mound.
"What the hell are those Systies doing?"
"Quiet!"
"Why haven't they spotted us yet?" Valkyrie asked.
"I want auto x on the last two," Snow Leopard said. "Five, I want a stunstar on that first guy. Nobody fires until I give the word."
"Tenners."
"You got it."
Closer. We could see the civilians clearly now—dressed in rags. Some of them didn't even have shoes. They were all starving, that much was obvious. They were stick people, blue from the cold, eyes glazed, staggering forward. An old lady stumbled and fell. An old man pulled her up, helping her on. There was a young man, a walking skeleton, carrying his wife in his arms. A young boy with hollow cheeks walked beside him, holding the hand of a little, bright-eyed toddler, bundled up in a thick red baby suit. The toddler looked up at his brother and his parents. I could see in his eyes that he did not understand. Brave little children, I thought, marching into Hell. And I was suddenly overcome with rage. My whole body began shaking with hate. I centered my E on the last two A-suits, and set it to auto xmax. The sight was shaking. I wanted to see those two Systie bastards die, I wanted them blown to shreds, I wanted to do it so bad I was shaking, I was salivating.
"I have broken the Systie net," Sweety announced calmly, "opening the channel." At first there was nothing. Then we heard them.
"They're over there," one of the Systies said.
"Yeah."
"Legion A-suits."
"Yeah."
"What does it think they're doing here?"
"We don't know."
Silence. They continued marching.
"Think we should report it?"
"To who?"
More silence, the wind whistling eerily past my helmet.
"Legion A-suits. That's strange."
"Who cares. We're almost back." They lapsed into silence. And the march continued, into the wind.
"What the hell, One?" Valkyrie asked.
"Puzzling," Snow Leopard said.
"'Who cares'?" Merlin repeated. "They've got the Legion on scope and they say 'who cares'? What is this?"
"Their minds are sedated," Tara reported. "They've been psyched. I've never felt anything like it—they're almost punch drunk. It must be the O's. And the civilians are the same—psyched. Powerful, powerful psyching."
"But our psybloc hasn't gone off!"
"No, no, this happened before—they're still under it."
"Fire," Snow Leopard said calmly. My laser sight was right on the helmet of one of the last two Systies. The helmet exploded, a horrid bang, spraying a bloody mist, white-hot xmax erupting all over his armor and he was down, flaming like a torch. A massive boom and a heavy shock wave rocked us simultaneously; snow swirled up off the ground. The Systie's armored companion had been blown in two—his frozen arms clawed at the snow. I snapped my sights to the front of the column. The leading DefCorps trooper was flat on the snow, down and out. Civilians were scattered around him on the ground, unconscious. Psycho had taken out the point man with a stunstar.
"Secure that Systie!" Snow Leopard ordered. We scrambled up from our positions, hustling over to the Systie column. My skin crawled as I ran forward. The Mound was still on the horizon but the terrain was completely flat and we were totally exposed. There was no way they weren't going to see us from the Mound.
"Priestess, revive the prisoner!" Snow Leopard knelt by the point man, turning him over. The Systie trooper had dropped his SG. He had no visible wounds—a stunstar scrambles all nerve and motor activity but has no lasting effects. Priestess passed me, heading for the surviving Systie trooper. I hurried to the back of the column to check on the dead. There were a lot of Systie civilians down—those at the front had been hit by the stunstar. They would survive, but those in the rear might have more serious wounds. The surviving Systie civs had fallen to the ground, exhausted. I passed whole families, too tired to talk, too tired to move. There were a few babies as well—they didn't even cry. I imagined that meant they would die soon.
"They're gone," Dragon said, touching one DefCorps trooper with the tip of his boot. A bloody corpse, grey skin, encased in a smoking, pitted bronze-colored A-suit.