wasn't dead?
Maybe Priestess was right. Maybe I was insane.
Stormdawn came charging out of the pool, spraying water all over his mom.
"Mommy, can I have some water? I have to ting! Daddy, can you play with me?"
"Slow down, Storm," I said. "Have a drink first." Moontouch poured him some water into a little cup.
"Daddy, Mommy said you're going away. Is it true?"
"No, Storm, Daddy is not going away." My heart was frozen. Moontouch didn't even blink. She carefully topped off Stormdawn's cup.
"Daddy, I want you to promise me you won't ever leave us again." Stormdawn took the cup from Moontouch and gulped down his water thirstily. What a beautiful child—so like his mother.
"I'm not going anywhere, Storm," I replied.
"Promise! Cross your heart and hope to die!"
"I promise, Storm," I said. "Cross my heart and hope to die."
"Go ting behind the trees, Storm," Moontouch said.
"I don't need to ting!"
"Go ting!"
"All right! Don't yell at me!"
Cross my heart and hope to die, I thought. All right—fine. I stay. Right here. With those I love. And the Legion can burn in Hell.
***
"GOOD MORNING SOLDIERS!" Andrion One stood before us, up on stage in a blazing spotlight, as the lights in the rest of the great auditorium dimmed. He was in his blacks, radiating confidence like a tacstar, and each word was a stake slamming into my heart. As he spoke, a glowing vision arose on the d-screen behind him—a ruddy planet girt with hazy clouds, circled by sparkling rings of silvery dust. It was truly beautiful. Most of Alpha Station was jammed into the auditorium. We knew it was bad news.
"YOU WILL ALL BE PLEASED TO LEARN," he continued, at deafening volume, "that Starcom has just announced the Omnis have attacked another ConFree planet! Camelora 7 is located in the Outvac, not far from the Neutral Zone! It is heavily populated, by ConFree citizens! And the Outvac is our AO, as you all know! The 22nd Legion has announced that Camelora 7 will be held, at all costs!" Andrion One paused, head up, looking us over. I knew his history. He was Legion. A Legion immortal, carrying our history in his head, a delegate from the past. Most of his body was artificial by now. Maybe even his mind. I often thought eventually we'd all become artificial, and then we could stop worrying about love and regret and heartache, and other mortal maladies. We'd all be perfect soldiers. But that was my problem. I was always thinking.
"What this means for us," he shouted, "is a historic opportunity to serve the Legion, and to serve humanity! Our comrades are dying, right now, for us, while we're riding desks and sipping dox and catching the rays in this backwater country club! Soldiers, as a result of this latest Omni attack, Starcom has announced adjusted strength levels for the front! All rear echelon commands have been required to contribute as necessary! You will all be pleased to learn that Andrion Command has been ordered to contribute 5,500 volunteers! Soldiers, I don't know about the rest of you, but I am certainly going where the Legion needs me, so there are now only 5,499 opportunities left for the rest of you! We expect to have these slots filled by tomorrow, so don't put off your decision—see your Super right now! The Legion thanks you! ConFree thanks you! Your descendants thank you! One last thing! For those of you who may not quite understand, what the Legion means when it says the planet will be held at all costs, is that we are to kill all the O's on Camelora 7, or they are to kill all of us! There are no other options! Soldiers of the Legion, do your duty! To the death!"
"DEATH!" We roared out the response, but to me it sounded more scared than scary. 5,500 volunteers! That was most of Andrion Command!
***
"We don't have to volunteer!" Priestess declared, pale and shaken. We were in my tiny office cube with the door closed. Normally, office doors were never closed, but there were a lot of intense private discussions going on at that very
Michele Boldrin;David K. Levine