I got to my feet, glad to be off the cot. I saw that a tiny metal disc lay on the floor beneath it. Somehow it canceled gravity and allowed the cot to float in midair.
“My name’s Rena,” said the woman, proffering her hand. “Technician and biowarfare specialist. Naturally, they made me the squad’s medic.”
I shook hands with her. She was barely as tall as my shoulder and as slim as an elf. She looked at me expectantly with eyes as blue as a distant snowclad mountain.
“Orion,” I said. “My name is Orion.”
“Unit? Specialty?”
I shook my head. “None that I know of.”
Her smile faded into a look of concern. “Maybe I ought to run the diagnostic computer over you again. It has a neuropsych program…”
“Rena, put some clothes on him, for god’s sake!”
A man strode up to us. His coveralls bore silver emblems on the collar and a nameplate sewn above the heart: Kedar. On the shoulder of his left sleeve was the symbol of a bolt of lightning. His face was grim. He had the strong, lean build of an athlete, but I noticed that he limped slightly.
“Yes, sir,” Rena said, snapping her hand to her brow in a military salute I thought there was just enough emphasis on the sir to make it slightly mocking.
She pointed me farther back in the cave, where stacks of plastic cartons stood lined in neat rows. “Clothes in here.” She yanked open the side of one carton and I saw a pile of gray coveralls. “Helmets and equipment in those rows back there. Help yourself. One size fits all.”
I took a pair of the coveralls from the bin. They looked much too small for me as I held them in my outstretched hands. But I shrugged and tried them on. They seemed to mold themselves to my body, stretching as necessary to fit comfortably without being too snug.
Rena peeled the blank nameplate from the chest of my uniform and took a light pen from her pocket.
“Orion,” she said, tracing my name onto the fabric. As she handed it back to me, she whispered, “Be careful of Kedar. Just because he’s a power tech he thinks he’s above the rest of us.”
I nodded my thanks and slapped the nameplate back where it belonged, just above my uniform’s breast pocket. Then we went shopping for a new suit of the white plastic armor that Rena said they all wore outside the cave. And a helmet.
I felt a little like the squire to a medieval knight, carrying a double armload of armor and equipment as I followed Rena back toward the front of the cave.
Kedar intercepted us. “Well, at least you’re properly outfitted,” he said, eying me up and down. “Come on, Adena wants to ask you a few questions.”
For an awkward moment I stood there, my arms full, not quite knowing what to do. Rena solved my problem by taking the stuff I was carrying. She could barely peep over the top of it once I had loaded it all on her. But she gave me a friendly wink as she staggered off toward the area where the cots were.
Kedar led me to the desk where the others had been clustered before. A woman stood at it, her back to me, bent slightly over the desk as she studied a map displayed on her video screen.
“Here he is, Adena,” said Kedar.
She turned, and the breath caught in my throat. It was she. As young and vibrantly beautiful as I had first seen her, so many long ages ago. Her hair was cropped short now, shorter even than mine. But it was thick and shining black, curling around her ears and across her brow. Her eyes were the same profound gray, warm and deep and knowing.
She flicked a glance at the name stenciled on my breast.
“Orion?” Even her voice was the same rich resonance.
I nodded. “And you are Adena.” The insignia on her shoulder was a clenched fist.
“What are you doing in this sector? What unit are you with?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “I found myself lost in the blizzard out there. I can’t remember anything further back than a few hours ago.” Unless you want to count other ages, other lifetimes, I added silently.
She frowned at me.
Kedar said, “Obviously he’s not from the transport team.”
“Obviously not,” Adena replied. Looking back at me, she asked, “What’s your specialty?”
I had no answer.
“Biowar? Chemicals? Energy weapons? Power? Communications?” Her voice rose slightly as I stood there mute and befuddled.
“You’ve got to have some specialty, soldier,” Kedar snapped.
“I’m on a special assignment,” I heard myself reply. “I’m an assassin.”
“A what?” Kedar glanced at Adena, his brows arching almost up into his scalp line.
“My assignment is to find Ahriman and kill him,” I said.
“Ahriman? Who in the name of the twenty devils of the night is Ahriman?”
Adena’s voice was softer. “There’s no one in this unit by that name.”
“Ahriman’s not one of us,” I said. “He’s a different kind of creature, intelligent but not truly human, dark and powerful…” I described the Dark One as closely as I could.
Their faces grew more surprised and nonplussed with each word I spoke.
When I stopped, Adena said, “And your special assignment is to find this person and kill him?”
“Yes. That’s why I was sent here.”
“By whom?”
“Ormazd,” I said.
They looked at each other. The name obviously meant nothing to them.
“Do you know of Ahriman, the Dark One?” I asked. “Do you know where I can find him?”
Kedar’s expression turned into a bitter smirk. “Just stay here for another day, Orion. As soon as this blizzard ends, you’ll see more men like the one you described than you’ll ever want to see in your entire life.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you know that we’re at war with them?” Adena asked.
“War? With… with whom?”
“The man you described,” she said. “This whole planet was covered with people such as he. We’re here to eliminate them.”
“But we’re cut off from our other units,” Kedar added before I could draw a breath. “They’re gathering out there in the snow — hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. They’re going to attack as soon as the storm stops. They’re going to eliminate us.”
But his despairing words barely registered on my attention. Within me, my mind was racing. The War! This must be The War!
CHAPTER 35
Adena and Kedar soon turned me loose. There was not much they could do with a man who was obviously either insane from battle or feigning insanity to avoid battle. They turned their attention to defending the cave against the attack that they knew was coming as soon as the storm died down.
I made my way to the mouth of the cave, feeling the eyes of the other soldiers on my back. The wind still raged out there, bitterly cold. I shivered and retreated back to the warmth of the radiant heaters.
Rena took me in tow once again and led me to a small circle of men and women who were heating prepackaged meals in what looked to me like a portable microwave oven. We ate in gloomy silence. One by one, the soldiers got up and went back to the ridiculous floating cots, where they grimly checked out their weapons.
The only halfway-cheerful person in the squad was a youngish man who introduced himself as Marek, communications specialist. He showed me the portable consoles and screens that were his responsibility.
“The brutes are jamming all our outgoing transmissions, somehow,” he said in a pleasant voice, almost as if he were describing how the equipment worked. “I don’t know how they do it, but they’re doing it damned well.”
“The brutes?” I asked.
Nodding, he replied, “The enemy, the guys with the gray skins and red eyes.” He hunched forward, pulling his neck down and raising his shoulders, then shuffled a few steps, scowling as mightily as he could. For a slim human youngster it was a fairly good imitation of the one I knew as Ahriman; “Anyway,” Marek went on, relaxing again, “they’re jamming our outgoing calls, so we can’t tell the commanders up in the orbiting ships where we are or what we’re up against.”