Legion Of The Damned - 06 - For Those Who Fell Read Free Page B

of steaming dooth droppings, kept to the relatively clean stepping-stones that the villagers employed to keep themselves up out of the muck, and said good-bye to his sister as she set off on an errand.
    As befitted the owner’s status, Truespeak’s house was one of the largest and sat at the center of the village. Longsleep sat on a bench outside, removed his Legion-issue boots, and tapped a brass cylinder with a hammer made of bone. Many hours of painstaking craftsmanship had gone into cutting designs into the metal, but the howitzer casing still looked like what it was and bore Legion markings. There was a resonant bong, followed by a basso voice, and the word “Come!”
    It was warm inside thanks to the nearly odorless dried-dooth dung fire and the blankets that served to seal the narrow door. Longsleep slid between them, made his way down a short flight of stairs, and found himself on the main level.
    The interior was carpeted with colorful hand-loomed rugs, each overlapping the next, so they covered the earthen floor. An open fire pit and a funnel-shaped chimney dominated the center of the home. One section of the circular space that surrounded it was reserved for cooking, while others had been set aside for sitting or sleeping. “Welcome,” Truespeak said from his place by the fire. “Sit and tell me of other worlds.”
    The invitation was that of one warrior to another. A tacit recognition of Longsleep’s status as a legionnaire and a far cry from the almost dismissive attitude that Truespeak had shown toward the youngster before he left.
    The chieftain was big, and his shaggy orange fur made him look even bigger. He didn’t rise, which would have been normal, but waved the legionnaire over. “Excuse me for not getting up to greet you, but I took a fall and broke my leg.”
    Now, as the soldier sat down on the semicircular bench-style seat, he realized that a homemade wooden brace had been applied to the chieftain’s stiffly extended leg. It was a reminder of the crude medicine that most villages still relied upon. “I’m sorry, sir. Is there anything I can do?”
    â€œTell me what you’ve been up to for the last seven years,” Truespeak suggested gruffly. “It will take my mind off my leg, and give me a better picture of what’s going on out there. We get more news than we did when you were a cub, but it still tends to be spotty.”
    Longsleep chose to pick up the story at the point where he left the village, and spoke for the next two hours. Truespeak listened carefully, occasionally interrupted with a question, but generally remained silent while the legionnaire told his tale. But that changed when Longsleep spoke of the Friendship, the bomb that had been assembled deep insidethe hull, and the subsequent evacuation. The soldier had been there, among the legionnaires assigned to protect the president, and that seemed to pique the chieftain’s interest. “You must tell me about him,” Truespeak said urgently, “every detail no matter how small it may be.”
    So Longsleep did, describing how Nankool handled the chaos that followed the destruction of the ship, what he had heard about initial skirmishes with the buglike Ramanthians, and the president’s efforts to find a new capital. And it was then that the chieftain seized the younger warrior by the arm and stared into his eyes. “You speak truly? Nankool is here? With General Booly?”
    Longsleep nodded. “Yes, I speak truly. Why? Is that important?”
    â€œIt could be,” Truespeak said, releasing his grip to stare into the fire. “The humans have used Algeron for a long time. Thousands of Naa have died in their battles. And for what? A few supply drops during the winter? Doctors who visit twice a year? The metal we salvage from their garbage pits?
    â€œNow they plan to convene their government here, rather than on a planet like Earth, and