Snow Leopard and I stepped into the alcove. The Systies looked up and saw black armor, gleaming in the dark. Their eyes widened in shock. My laser sight lit up the forehead of the one who was restraining the girl. Then his head exploded. The other one scrambled away like a crippled dog until Snow Leopard's boot landed on his back. Snow Leopard brought his E to bear on the back of the Systie's head, but an armored hand reached out and lifted the barrel of his E away from the target.
"Let me…please?" Valkyrie asked. The Systie twisted like a snake, thrashing around in the rubbish on the floor. He was on his back now, his pants tangled around his ankles. Valkyrie stood over him with an eerie smile. The laser sight lit up the Systie's crotch. He whimpered, and Valkyrie fired a burst on laser. I turned my head away. The Systie shrieked from the very depths, and then passed out.
"He's still alive," Valkyrie said calmly, "but it's all right—he'll bleed to death."
"She's in shock," Priestess said, looking after the girl.
"She's psyched," Tara added. "They all are."
"Is this considered a fringe benefit, Systie?" Snow Leopard seized our Systie by the front of his tunic and slammed him up against the wall, the barrel of the E resting against the Systie's throat. Snow Leopard's pale pink eyes were glittering hatred, and I knew the Systie was in serious trouble.
"Unauthorized!" the Systie gasped. "The V have made us crazy! We try to help the packs!" Our psybloc units suddenly came on, crackling to life, lighting up the hall.
"Enemy probes!" Sweety announced. "Two probes, as marked, projecting psypower, unidentified capabilities, approaching our position!" They were on the tacmap, coming at us along the corridor. I raised two weapons, the E and an SG. Another SG dangled from one shoulder.
"Auto xmax," Snow Leopard ordered. He released his grip on the Systie, who slid down the wall to the floor, bathed in sweat. "Fire at my command. Grenades—now!"
Back to the wall, I set both weapons to auto xmax. A couple of psybloc grenades burst brightly down corridor, lighting us all up. A girl in a blanket whimpered beside me—the corridor was lined with civilians.
"Get down on the floor," I suggested. Closer—here they come! Probes, floating effortlessly just below the ceiling, coming right at us.
"High and rising psyprobe readings!"
"It can't resist them," the Systie said.
"Fire," Snow Leopard ordered. I opened up with the E and the SG both. We all fired and the corridor exploded, a titanic, continuing multiple starburst, shrieking, awful catastrophe, the shock waves buffeting our A-suits. I kept my finger locked on autofire and the walls began to disintegrate, shrapnel pinging off my armor, the ceiling coming down, glowing and smoking.
"Cease fire! Cease fire!"
"Probes eliminated," Sweety reported.
"I feel much better now," Psycho said dreamily. Our psybloc units switched off abruptly. A sudden silence descended on us. The corridor ahead burnt and hissed. The deck was littered with wreckage. The civilians whimpered.
"Think there were any people down there?"
"Not any more."
"Where's that Systie?" Snow Leopard demanded. "Get him over here! Systie, we want to get into the interior of this installation—how do we get in?"
The Systie was bleeding from minor shrapnel wounds. He appeared stunned and exhausted. "The V don't let us in past the third corridor," he said, "and even the third is blocked at both ends. There are terrible things in there—believe us, it doesn't want to go further."
"One—we've got something here!" Dragon stood before another black cenite door. We moved up. Someone had crudely sprayed two words over the door: HOLDING—BRATS.
"I detect numerous human targets within, all unarmored," Sweety informed me. Dragon hit the control and the door slid open.
We went in guns up and we thought we were ready for anything but we were not ready for what was in there—a great hall full of dying children lying in their own filth, too tired to move, hollow blue-grey faces, tragic unblinking eyes, wasted little arms clutching rags for warmth. There was a muted wailing in the air—they were too close to death to cry.
"Deadman's death," someone said quietly.
"My holy God."
We made our way carefully into the room, stepping between the children. They were all very young—toddlers and pre-schoolers.
"Oh no. Look!"
A whole corner of the hall was covered with rags. But they were moving, mewing, whimpering. Tiny pink fists, clutching at nothing. Babies!
"Go away! You can't have them!" A little girl in a torn dress, enraged, stood amidst the babies. Her arm went back and she hurled something at us. It bounced off my A-suit. And suddenly the air was full of missiles, all sorts of junk, empty ration cans, old shoes, plastic dolls, baby bottles, rattling off our armor. The older children were struggling to their feet, throwing anything they could find, crying and screaming. A gang of dirty-faced girls snatched up the babies, then ran to a corner, clutching the squirming infants to their bosoms. And that one defiant child stood before the remaining babies like a guardian angel, crying and trembling, screaming her rage and frustration and hate, ready to die for her charges.
"Go away! They're only babies! Leave us alone! Go away! Go away! Go away! If I were big, I'd kill you!"
"Somebody take the Systie outside and kill him," Snow Leopard ordered quietly. Psycho seized the Systie and dragged him out to the corridor. The last I saw of him he was screaming for mercy as Psycho activated his hot knife.
Priestess removed her helmet. The hail of missiles ceased as the children slowly realized she was a female.
"We're here to help the babies," she said. "We're here to help you all." She reached out and the child threw her arms around Priestess's neck and cried a river of tears.
"That kid belongs in the Legion," I said. I had never seen anything as heroic as that little girl, defying a whole squad of armored killers.
"We need rations—canteens—now," Priestess ordered. We were ripping open our ratpaks when Sweety interrupted.
"Alert! I detect a full squad of Systies, fully armed and armored, approaching the Mound!" Sweety had nothing but good news for us.
"I have to stay here," Priestess said immediately.
"Valkyrie, these folks are going to take out the main doors and come in after us. I want you to take an element, go back to Processing—the room where we arrived by elevator. Clear out the civilians—put them in the halls. Then mine the room. I want it to go up as soon as the Systies are inside." Snow Leopard never hesitated. He always seemed to know exactly what was necessary.
"I'll use displacement triggers and vulcans," Valkyrie said. "I want Twelve, Four and Eight. All right?"
"That's fine. When the room goes up, I want you to attack, and finish off any survivors—get them all, then rejoin us."
"Tenners. Where will you be?"
"We're going after the ship. Keep in touch."
"Will do."
###
"He's right up ahead," I said. Sweety had the Systie zeroed on my tacmod. We had chased two Systies down the corridor, cleaning up the last of the Systies assigned to the Mound, in and out of rooms, while Valkyrie's group was still waiting in ambush to get the new bunch. Now this one was trapped. The bastard had an SG, and wasn't shy about using it—he had almost hit me. I was still twitching, inside my armor.
"Well, shoot him!" Snow Leopard suggested. I raised my E and fired auto xmax. The room exploded and filled with smoke. When the dust settled, Sweety discerned no life signs.
"Keep an eye on the ceiling," Snow Leopard added. We did not like the ceiling. It was studded with what looked like hatchways or emergency escapes, but Sweety had no further readings for us.