Ghost Legion Read Free Page B

with serious intent," Raoul
observed.
    "Special job," Xris commented briefly, hoping this would
end it. He took the butt end of the twist out of his mouth, ground it
on the concrete floor with his good foot.
    Raoul gave him an exasperated glance. Reaching down gingerly, he
picked up the twist between thumb and index finger, and—making
a face—threw it in the trash compactor.
    "What about your assignment?" Xris asked, changing the
subject. "Since you're back early, I take it you completed it
satisfactorily."
    "Most satisfactorily:" Raoul gave him a charming smile.
"The Little One says you are going alone."
    Xris fixed the Little One with a look that caused the empath to
literally shrivel up. The raincoat actually seemed to deflate; the
eyes disappeared beneath the brim of the fedora.
    "I thought he was an empath—soaked up feelings. Since when
did he get to be a goddam mind reader?"
    "It comes with age, among his people."
    "What?" Xris grunted, eyed the fedora. "You serious?"
    "As serious as possible in an absurd world. But I think you are
attempting to change the subject, Xris Cyborg. You are going alone on
a mission that is fraught with deadly peril. This is not good,"
chided Raoul, gently sighing. "This is not worthy of you. Or
wise of you. And so the others will feel, once I tell them—"
    "You're not going to tell them!" Xris snapped, taking
another twist out of his pocket. He thrust it into his mouth, didn't
bother to light it. "Better get used to this place 'cause I'm
locking you in here. Don't worry. I'll send Harry for you in the
morning. He'll let you out in time to wash your hair and put on your
makeup. By which time I'll be long gone."
    "On your way to Corasia, by yourself. A suicide mission. And to
rescue one person—"
    Raoul glanced down at the Little One, who—undeterred by Xris's
fierce warning stare—apparently said something to his partner
in whatever mysterious way they managed to communicate.
    "Your wife," said Raoul softly.
    "Tell him he's lucky I don't stuff him in there," Xris
snarled, pointing to the trash.
    "How have we deserved this of you, Xris Cyborg?" Raoul
asked. The Loti's eyes filled with tears. "What faith have we
broken with you that you do not keep faith with us? How have we
failed you?"
    "Shit!" Xris took the twist out of his mouth, threw it on
the floor. "Don't start crying. In the first place this is
personal, none of your goddam business. In the second place, I don't
need you. Any of you, but especially I don't need a whacked-out
poisoner and a snoop! I'll take care of this little matter and I'll
be back before you know I'm gone. You can tell that to the others.
Tell them I'm taking some time off, a well-deserved vacation."
    Raoul opened his peach-colored lips.
    "Not another word!" Xris warned. "Or by God I will
stuff him in the trash. And you with him." He leaned back on the
console. "Now, make your report."
    Raoul exchanged glances with the top of the fedora, which was about
all that could now be seen of the Little One. Apparently deciding
that Xris meant what he said, the Loti removed a lace hankie from his
blue beaded evening bag dabbed his eyes—careful not to disturb
his mascara—and then spread the hankie carefully over the
control panel to dry.
    "We met, as arranged, at the Exile Cafe. They had arrived ahead
of me, by two days. An expensive room, near the top. I had the
impression that they had never been there before, but naturally I did
not ask."
    "Who are they?"
    "John Does. Nobodies." Raoul raised a disdainful plucked
eyebrow. "Experienced starpilots. The Little One says they have
military backgrounds, some mercenary work, nothing of interest. They
gave me their names, of course, but the Little One says that the
names were false."
    "And who are they working for?"
    "They claimed to be members of a prodemocracy organization
unhappy with the return to a monarchy. The Little One says that, too,
is false. They have no strong