Текст книги "The Sword and the Dagger"

The Thrushwas out of sight now, but others would be coming quickly. His orders called for the 17th to disperse, with Second and Third Battalions spreading out toward the eastern ridge and the First Battalion moving into the swamp. There were still Liao BattleMechs in this wooded slope along the Ordolo Basin. The Regiment would have to take them out or further scatter those enemy 'Mechs if it didn't want to become the target of constant sniping and hit-and-run raids to the rear as it closed on Jordan's Pass. Once inside the treeline, visibility was reduced to less than thirty meters. Unable to see any of the other 'Mechs in the Battalion around him, Ardan used the commlink to organize the unseen formation into a rough line running north and south, travelling west. The tree canopy closed in overhead, shielding them from further Thrushattacks. Ardan wondered where the follow-up attack was. Had that Thrushpilot truly been acting alone? What did that say about Liao organization here?

The scope of the Liao trap was obvious now. He didn't have the full picture yet and would not until he could compare notes with Ran and Lees. But their guess about a trap had been accurate. There was no reason to keep such large 'Mech forces so far from Steindown unless the plan had been to lure a Davion invasion force onto the broad plains between Steindown and the mountains, trap them on the peninsula, and bomb and shell them into helpless wreckage. The landing north of the peninsula seemed to have caught the Liao 'Mech forces completely by surprise—and even their AeroSpace Fighter support seemed to be operating in a disjointed, undirected fashion.

That confusion meant the Davion forces had the advantage now, but they would have to push to keep it. The battle was not over yet, not by ten thousand light years.

The ground grew broken and steeper. He used his 'Mech's mass to brush aside smaller trees, which fell with splintering crashes. Other massive, age-old lords of the forest grew in greater and greater profusion as he moved deeper into the forest. There was a faint glimmer of water ahead.

Gold Two and the rest of Gold Squadron were further to his right, out of sight, but perhaps 500 meters away. He would have to get closer to them or risk being cut off. Blue Squadron was on his left. Once he caught a glimpse of the company's number four Recon Lance 'Mech, a Wasp,moving through the trees. The smaller ‘Mechs were better for this kind of maneuver. They were lighter, less likely to become bogged down in mud, and their maneuverability among trees, vines, and undergrowth was impressive.

He cut to the right, then had to detour around an unexpected lake, its surface brilliant with the bright green scum that had nearly fooled him during his landing.

Cannonfire boomed to the right. Gold Seven reported contact with a Liao Rifleman.As Ardan hurried forward, his Victor'sfeet squelching in the shallow mud, he glimpsed movement ahead. The Victorshouldered its way between two trees that shuddered and rocked back, roots flailing mud. Dead ahead was a massive, immobile form, hulking and powerful, the Liao emblem bright against its heavy torso armor. Ardan recognized the shape. Originally a House

Steiner design, a few of these monsters had apparently fallen into Liao hands. Designated ZEU-6S and called Zeus,the 80-ton assault BattleMech resembled Ardan's Victorin many respects.

There were differences of detail, of course. The Zeushad lighter torso armor than the Victor,and heavier armor on its legs and arms. Most critical was the fact that the Victorsacrificed a great deal of space and mass to the HildCo Model 12 jump jets set into its back assembly. That meant that the Zeus,without jump jets, carried far more in the way of heavy weaponry. Especially since the Victor'sautocannon was jammed.

The Zeusfired first. The monster seemed to have been placed there, waiting for him. A salvo of heavy and medium laser shots flickered across the water. Water close behind Ardan geysered steam, and the tree to his right burst into flame. A dull thud somewhere announced the failure of some piece of machinery. Ardan prayed it wasn't critical.

His own twin lasers were firing in response, but the hits seemed to splash off the Zeus'storso without effect. Then he triggered a salvo of four short-ranged missiles, brilliant pinpoints trailing smoke as they hissed toward the target. There! One of them hit, cratering the enemy 'Mech's shoulder armor but doing no other damage that Ardan could see.

Ardan was scared now. Without his autocannon, he was nearly helpless against the Zeus,and among these trees, his much greater maneuverability was useless. The Zeusraised its left arm, which mounted a black-barrelled Defiance autocannon. Ardan knew that the Zeuscarried only five cassette rounds for its cannon, but at this range, with the Victorpinned to the ground by trees and underbrush, that would be more than enough.

He pulled back between the trees as the autocannon fired, its muzzle flash an almost steady flicker reflected in the swamp, the roar of exploding shells and splintering trees a drumming thunder against the Victor'shull. He turned. A mistake! He should have turned right! Shells smashed into his left arm, and warning lights flared on his console. One of his lasers was dead, the other damaged.

He loosed another flight of missiles, but couldn't see the result. Smoke drifted across the swamp, masking his Victorfrom the looming shape of the Zeus.With so much damage to his weapons system, Ardan's only hope was to disengage in the smoke and attempt to fall back to where he could gain support from friendly forces.

Autocannon fire smashed into him from behind now, pounding at his jump jets, fragmenting armor, chopping into his right leg. The leg froze, refusing to move. Clumsily, he attempted to circle the Victoraround its immobile leg to face his attacker. The Zeuswas moving there, looming huge and ominous through trees and smoke. The flicker of that autocannon came a third time, crushing the Victor'suseless right arm and sending the autocannon spinning away in smoking chunks.

Ardan tasted smoke and blood, mingled with the stench of his own fear. The Zeuswas taking its time, lumbering closer, picking its steps with care in the boggy ground. Ardan kept up a steady fire with his lone remaining laser, desperately trying for a hit on the Zeus'scockpit. His missile racks were empty now. There was a crackle and the sparking of shorted circuitry, and the laser died, though his thumb kept smashing at the useless firing button. His fire control systems were shorting out, overloading as circuit boards melted in the ferocious heat in his 'Mech's reactor module.

The Zeuswas closer now, thirty meters away. The autocannon was coming up for another rapid-fire round. It was time to punch out—or die.

Ardan thumbed the safety cover from the emergency eject arming switch, locked off the safety, stabbed the full system disconnect, and armed the chair. An alarm hooted, a panel slid back from the bright red eject button, and his palm slapped down with stinging force. The cockpit dissolved in a red blur, and Ardan was smashed down into his seat as though by some mammoth hand. He was not aware of any noise—the explosion had momentarily deafened him—but the skullcap hatch blew away an instant before his cockpit seat blasted clear of the shattered Victor.

His flight was a short one. The Victorwas canted at an angle against a burning tree, and the ejector seat had slammed into a twisted, overhanging limb, then writhed off in a wildly tilting, tumbling descent across the swamp. The seat's landing jets fired to cushion his landing, but their ground sensors had been smashed and so the jets fired parallel to the ground. His harness shackles broke free, and Ardan's unconscious body plowed feet-first into the dank green waters of the Ordolo swamp.

Consciousness returned with a distant, red haze of pain. His arm throbbed with the dull but excruciating ache of a fracture. Cradling the arm against his chest, he stood slowly, swaying against the waves of dizziness that threatened to topple him back into the greenish water. He heard a crash behind him and turned to see the Zeusgive his ravaged Victora final blow that sent it crumpling into the swamp. The Zeusseemed to be scanning for him, its massive head swiveling slowly against the background of green leaves and hanging moss. Ardan's mind groped for a weapon. His Double-0 Lancer laser pistol was missing, torn out during his brief flight. That left only his knife—a knife against an eighty-ton 'Mech. He began giggling at the thought, his shock-numbed thoughts on the ragged edge of hysteria. He felt the Zeus's gazeupon him and sank slowly down until the water partly covered him once more, but the Zeusdid not seem bent on further pursuit. The sound of battle was thundering now in the east, toward the edge of the swamp. For one long moment, the Zeusseemed to be looking straight at the helpless Ardan, and then it turned and pressed through the dense undergrowth toward the sounds of battle.

He was alone, now. Moving with the clumsy fumblings of an automaton, he found his ejector seat half-buried nearby in the mud. One-handed, he rummaged through a side compartment until he could pull out a preserving sleeve. Once fastened around his injured arm and inflated, the sleeve immobilized his arm and prevented the splintered ends of his humerus from causing further injury. Then he staggered away from the ejection seat, wading through calf-deep mud toward the edge of land nearby.

He staggered out of the swampy water, stiff-legged, scarcely able to move. His throat screamed for water. His uninjured hand fumbled for the survival canister at his belt It was missing, too, torn free somewhere over the waters of the swamp. It had contained capsules for purifying water, a kit for testing foods...Gone.

Ardan dropped to his knees on dry land, His right leg felt badly bruised, and his head throbbed. Though he didn't remember losing his neural helmet in the launch, it was gone, too, and his head felt as though it had been smashed from behind with a club. Years of training made him automatically inventory what he had—knife, boots, shorts. The tattered remnants of his coolant vest. No food. No drinkable water. A broken arm...

Dizziness and pain rose up, obliterating the defenses that training and his mind had erected. He sagged down to the ground, tears of pain, exhaustion, and pent-up fear streaming down his face. Exhaustion won. For the first time in his life, Ardan Sortek fainted.

15

Maximilian Liao was livid. He stood straight, radiating fury, as Ridzik entered his chamber.

"So. What happened, Pavel? How did our clever ambush go wrong?" The Chancellor was so tense that his narrow shoulders quivered, his hands played games with his rings.

"Davion just didn't follow the plan that our agents had reported to us. They changed at the last minute. Far too late for any word to reach us, even through a Command Circuit. One evening, they were set to hit all the logical targets. The next morning, they came down all over the map. Every place on the Follythat could hold up a ship or a 'Mech was busy."

Liao looked bewildered. "But that means Davion himself doesn't know what his commanders have done. How can that be? How could they dare such a thing? Their lives will be forfeit!"

Colonel Ridzik looked grim. "Not every ruler demands the scrupulous adherence to his wishes as do you, Your Grace. Davion allows his commanders much leeway. They can make their own decisions on the ground, as circumstances require. It is not always a bad modus operandi."

Liao's sallow face flushed faindy. "Are you telling me that my ways of operating are sometimes bad ones?"

Ridzik didn't flinch. "By no means, sire. But there are others that may also work extremely well. This time, Davion's method worked. Our only hope of holding the Folly was to surprise his troops as they arrived onworld. Because of their change in mid-operation, we did not succeed in that"

"So, with our lesser armaments, we must retreat. Is that what you're telling me?"

"To Redfield. Yes. Within the next six planetary days, unless we are to lose even more 'Mechs and vehicles, which we cannot afford. We are holding our headquarters and a few other key points, but if Davion makes a concerted effort against those, we will be forced to surrender."

"Surrender? Never. We will pull back, if necessary. But we will never surrender." Liao turned and looked at the star-map. "So near...so near. If only they had kept to their plans!"

Ridzik said nothing, deciding that was the most politic approach for the moment.

The smaller man whirled on his heel. "And we were so close to finding a lever to move Davion! The reports say that Ardan Sortek is with the assault forces. If we had been able to capture him...but that will be unlikely, now. There is no time."

Ridzik looked interested. "Sortek? Yes, it must have been him..." he said almost to himself. "There was a report of an engagement, along the eastern side of the main port city, with a unit commanded by a Victor.His methods were similar to those we have known with Sortek." He strode to another map, flipped down the sheet showing the area in question, and pointed.

"A large detachment of men and 'Mechs dropped onto the grasslands to the east of the port. They were met by a group of our own people, including a Zeuswe captured from Steiner some time ago. The pilot is one of my special informants. After the engagement, he brought the remnants of his command back to headquarters to make his report

"He personally engaged the leader of the enemy 'Mech unit, whose Victorwas painted with the Sortek arms below the Federated Suns emblem. Our man disabled the 'Mech, but he believes the pilot was able to escape into the swamp, which was less than a standard kilometer from the battlefield."

Liao's face lightened. "Sortek...afoot. Possibly wounded ...a most interesting possibility presents itself. What is the status of that area now? Can we search the swamp without interference from Davion troops?"

Ridzik nodded. "The units engaged there withdrew to the local command center, after breaking our defense. They don't care about the countryside. What they want is to quash any resistance left in the city itself, as well as around the port."

"Then, have the swamp searched immediately," Liao ordered sharply. "Detail as many men as needed. Watch to see that they don't use heavy equipment, however. We've lost enough in those cursed swamps already. But see that they are thorough."

Ridzik saluted. "Yes, Your Grace. I shall be ready to go as soon as I have obtained all the computer information we will need. You have my assurance that if Sortek is alive, we will find him...Or even if he is not"

After the commander of his troops had left, Liao stood at the window, looking into his garden. This time he saw every vivid blossom, every bright, swift-winged bird. The view soothed him, helped to relieve the terrible tension of the past days.

Though his ruler was finding himself eased, Ridzik was increasingly harried. He had a world full of men and machines to embark for retreat He had supplies to retrieve, if possible, and to destroy, if not And now he also had an intricate and dangerous search to put into motion. He cursed the day he had first heard the name of Ardan Sortek.

Nevertheless, upon his arrival at Liao headquarters on Stein's Folly, he called in the leader of a unit that had served him well in many unusual and sometimes shady enterprises.

"Henrik, we have an important mission. The swamp in Sector Five...yes, that one." He smiled as the officer stepped to the map on his office wall and placed a finger on a stretch of green. "We believe that within that area of swamp may be a survivor of our recent battle."

The man nodded, his expression puzzled. Rescue missions had never been a high priority among the Liao troops.

"This man is important to our ruler. The Duke has need of him, even though he is an enemy. We must find him, dead or alive. When you do, bring him at once to the

DropShip being readied for retreat to Redfield. This is of utmost importance, Henrik. Do you understand me?"

The officer had worked with Ridzik often, and he understood all too well. Liao did not accept failure, even in the face of total impossibility. He saluted. "Yessir!"

* * * *

Ardan woke to darkness. His body burned with fever, and ached from head to toe, as though he had taken a brutal beating. Dazed and disoriented, he was not sure at first where he was or how he came to be here. It was his arm, throbbing in its preserving sleeve, that brought it all back...the swamp...ejecting from his Victor...theterror that the enemy Zeuswould finish him off the way he'd finished off Ardan's ‘Mech...

He could make out very little in the murk of night, but the trees around him had become raucous with hoots, honks, chirrups, rasps, howls, and other distressing sounds. To his fevered brain, every noise seemed threatening and vicious. When he mustered the strength to lift his head, trying to see into the pitch black of the swamp, some live thing thrashed away into the reeds, making a loud splash as it hit the water.

Ardan moved again, very cautiously. At his side, a tiny voice said "Meep? Meep?" with maddening persistence. He reached slowly for his leg-knife. Once in his hand, its metal reassuringly solid in this murky world, he felt somewhat better. His body screamed for a drink of water, but he dared not slake his thirst on this brackish slime. If only he still had his canister...

That thought brought back the memory of his last moments of combat with the Zeus.It had not stayed to finish him off, but had lumbered away toward the sounds of battle in the east But what if the Zeuswere to come back for him, after all? How could Ardan defend himself with just a knife, and nearly naked in his shorts and useless cooling vest? He would have to get away from this spot, he thought feverishly, but he dared not venture into the water in the dark.

The night wore on with painful slowness, but the sounds and the slitherings around him did not cease. Whatever those creatures might have been, to Ardan's shaky state of mind and body they were menaces beyond anything spawned in any swamp on any known world.

When a thread of light finally touched the sky beyond the thick treetops, he relaxed a bit Though he had dozed in the night, some new alien touch on his hair or body had continually jerked him awake. Now he saw that the night-crawlers had retreated to their burrows. He was alone on the mudbank. Gathering his courage, Ardan made himself slide, headfirst into the greenish-black water.

It was shallow. He could float along, head above water, propelling himself with his good hand along the slimy stickiness of the bottom mud. From time to time, his palm met something that quivered or throbbed beneath it. That shook him.

He tried to move parallel with the edge of the clear ground. This swamp had to be part of some waterway. Waterways led to rivers. Once he had found a river...then what? He didn't want to think any farther than that. He would find help, or he would not. His head was in no condition to make coherent plans.

The air warmed, but he shivered uncontrollably in the water. His skin wrinkled and grew pale, but Ardan pushed on. The world spun about him, misty with steam over the water, misty with the obscurity growing inside his mind. Eventually, he was shaking so uncontrollably that he had to drag himself onto a mudbank, out of the water. There he saw the imprint of a large body and a wide, dragging tail in the mud. He didn't care.

He lay, face-down, gasping, shivering. Then, his back arched, and he vomited dark liquid. Had he drunk some of the water as he traveled? He must have. Now his belly knotted, and Ardan curled, shaking, nauseated, into a ball. He lay there, unable to move, for what seemed like hours, before he was roused from his stupor by a grunting sound nearby.

He turned to see a fat, pale-skinned shape wallowing in the shallows below him. Its piglike head was cocked upward, watching him. The eyes were black, small, hostile. As he watched, it flapped a wide, leathery tail against the water, raising a shower of droplets.

The owner of the mudbank, Ardan thought dreamily. Then he sank into delirium again.

This time he dreamed.

He was inside his 'Mech, facing hostiles. He tried to raise the arm. There was no response. He tried to scan his surroundings, but the monitors were all dark. He wanted to run....any direction, just to have motion. The legs refused to move.

He was blind, helpless, trapped inside the behemoth, waiting for his enemy to strike him down. He screamed, and the echo went round and round inside his helmet He was sliding...down, down a chute toward the emergency hatch.

He came out onto a wide plain, stretching away on either hand as far as he could see. No sign of life met his despairing gaze. The grass beneath his feet was burnt brown. The sky was coppery yellow, the sun staring down evilly. His throat was sore; breath came with difficulty into his lungs.

He gasped and sank to his knees. It felt as though a 'Mech were sitting on his chest What had happened to his unit? Where was Sep? Jarlik? Denek and Fram?

He groaned, and his own voice woke him. He looked up into a pair of round pink eyes, which shocked him fully into consciousness.

Moving with great difficulty, he turned onto his side. The small animal—if that's what it was—sitting beside him seemed undisturbed by the movement It regarded him calmly, as he pushed himself up, one-armed, to sit facing it.

His head was still reeling, but Ardan felt certain that this was reality. The swamp looked exactly as he remembered it The mudbank was real. The pain in his arm, legs, head, and back was real.

The creature he was staring at was short. Seated, it came just barely to his shoulder. Its head was as round as its eyes, and it had long-lobed ears hanging to its shoulders. The mouth was thin and straight, creating a prim expression much at variance with its infantile eyes. What Ardan had first taken to be an animal now seemed to him more a being somewhere between beast and human.

Ardan cleared his throat, tasting the remnant of vomit in the back of his throat. "Hello," he said, with some difficulty.

The thing jumped backward from a sitting position with catlike agility. Now it was standing, showing that it had long, thin legs, a stocky body, and a rudimentary tail that twitched with nervousness.

It stared at him for a moment. Then it uttered a high, thin wail that carried through the trees and echoed back from the depths of the swamp.

Bewildered, Ardan shook his head. The creature watched with much attentiveness. It shook its own head, mocking his motion exactiy. When Ardan held out his hand in the gesture that meant peace on most known worlds, it held out its own. That meant nothing, Ardan knew. It was purest mimicry.

Then, in the distance, he heard another strange sound. Spattering steps were racing through shallow water. Shrill hoots and chirps accompanied the noise. Before he realized what was happening, he was surrounded by a dozen exact replicas of the creature sitting beside him. They were clad in only their own pale-furred hides, indistinguishable from one another.

The newcomers hooted briefly at their fellow, who chirruped back in a concise burst of sound. They seemed to be communicating in a language of their own, which amazed Ardan. He dimly recalled some of the computer briefings on the swamp life of Stein's Folly, but none of that information had prepared him for the intelligence he sensed among these pink-eyed beings. They turned, with one accord, and fell upon Ardan. Before he could react, he was tied into a sort of bundle with fiber cords. Then the creatures hoisted him on their shoulders, two on either side, and carried him away into the swamp, going deeper and deeper between the increasingly huge trees.

That was when things became hazy. At times, Ardan thought he was back on his father's farm, riding a load of grain to the bins. At others, he felt himself carried away on a berserker 'Mech, running uncontrolled across the countryside.

He burned with fever. He shook with chill. He vomited down the length of himself and all over the creatures carrying him. They dunked him into a pool, splashed water over themselves, and trudged on.

He went out, at last, into a blackness that was a great relief. When he came to, it was to the pitch darkness of the nightbound swamp.

He stirred. There came a twirping sound from somewhere nearby. Another chirrup, more distant, answered the first. A glimmer of light moved toward him, letting him see that he was in a kind of wicker hut, very crude but quite efficient

He lay on a pallet of tree-moss, still tied up, but much less painfully than before. His mouth felt cleaner. They had given him water, he was almost certain. He hoped it wasn't the terrible stuff from the swamp.

A short figure stumped into the hut with a tiny torch in its hand. It was exactly like every other he had seen thus far, without even any sex differentiation, as far as Ardan could tell.

The thing squatted beside him, tested his bindings, held the torch close, and lifted one of Ardan's eyelids. It grunted. The sound indicated satisfaction, as nearly as Ardan could tell.