Текст книги "Shrapnel: Fragments from the Inner Sphere"

Автор книги: Elizabeth Danforth

Соавторы: William H. Keith,Ken St. Andre,Jordan K. Weisman,Michael A. Stackpole
сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Three long strides took me to Hassan's side, the shotgun slung from my arm coming up against his head. The other guards in the room started, then leapt forward.

'Halt!' I cried. There was a moment of chaos, as voices babbled confusion and anger Okabi's eyes met mine, dark and unreadable. 'Silence! Silence everyone!' The voices died away, and the hall was silent except for a low and unsteady whimpering coming from the man beside me. I held Hassan's head with one arm, the muzzle of the shotgun pressed against his face with the other. 'One move without my saying so. and l shorten him by a head!'

'No...no!’ Hassan was sobbing, his eyes bulging with terror. 'Please...Yancey, isn't it? We can talk, Yancey! We can talk!'

I jabbed him to silence with the gun and fixed my eyes on Okabi. The Corpsman had not moved since I'd made my move. 'Okabi! Your death would be meaningless here!'

'If it is my death,’ he replied quietly, 'it is not meaningless.'

'But your life can have more meaning than your death.’ I nodded toward the girl, still standing a few paces away, then toward the mother and son. Take them...get them out of here.’ I saw indecision struggle with pain behind his eyes. 'Please, Okabi! Quickly!’

‘My responsibility is to my sworn lord, to Hassan...’

‘Your sworn lord is going to be dead in a few minutes! I am releasing you from your oath! Do you understand?’ Hassan certainly understood. He twisted in my grip, struggling wildly, and I nudged him with my gun.

Okabi struggled a moment more. Then calm returned behind those dark eyes. The wakizashiHashed again as he tucked it back into his belt. ‘You!’ I nudged Hassan again 'Give the orders to let them go, or you die a messy death.’

'Do...do as he says! Do as he says!'

‘You!' I nodded toward the guard who had brought the girt forward. 'Give Okabi your headset.’

The guard removed his headgear and handed the radio transcerver to Okabi. who clipped it to his ear and opened a private circuit. ‘What the hell are you doing, Yancey?’ I heard him mutter, checking that the line was open.

‘Learning to live with myself,' I said. 'This has been building for a long time, ever since this...this animal came to power.’

‘You can't get away with this,’ Hassan said, wiggling against my headlock.

'Maybe not. But I'll tell you this. I'll be listening as Okabi takes these people out of here If he's stopped, if he's fired at. I’ll know it. and you will die.'

'Don’t kill me!’

‘Give the order! Let them go!’

I knew then that the stories of Hassan being a member of a warrior sect were lies. No warriorwould have begged for his life... or given in to my demand. I backed up with my prisoner away from the divan until my back was against the wall, and held him there in a death's grip, my gun against his head, waiting for endless minutes until I heard Okabi's voice in my earpiece again.

'We're clear. Yance. The lady says she knows someone...someone who'll smuggle us out of the city. Seems there's a fair-sized underground here.'

‘Not surprising.’ I said. ‘Not with a monster like this in charge.'

'Her son has gone to get help.’ I heard Okabi chuckle.'He's coming back with a guy now. Yance! It's the guy we saw yesterday, the farmer...remember?*

‘I remember. Good luck. Okabi.’

Thank you. What about you?’

‘Taken care of.’

‘Then, good luck. Yancey.'

‘What is it you want. Yancey?’ my captive asked as Okabi broke the com link. I released him then, keeping my back to the wall and my shotgun pointed at his chest. He watched me warily as he rubbed his sore neck. 'What do you want?' he asked again. 'Every man has his price, and I can meet yours! All you have to do is name it...’

What was it I wanted? I remembered the face of my father, the day he returned to Marakani and told us that he was now one of the Dispossessed. A MechWarrior in the service of House Kurita. his Mech had been shot to pieces around him in the fighting at Mallory's World. The Regimental DropShip had returned him to us. that he might tell us he was no longer a warrior, buta simple man without caste or position or responsibility... a man with nothing left except his honor.

He brought us the money he'd earned fighting House Davion, then died the next morning as the sun rose above the mountains. A man without honor is not a man,he'd said. He died a man.

The others in the room watched silently. Most had their weapons pointed at me, but others wavered.

With Hassan as hostage, I could probably make it outside the headquarters, there to lose myself in the crowds. Okabi had found the underground that existed within the city. Perhaps I could find it as well.

But the choice was between life...and honor.

My finger tightened on the trigger, and the heavy caliber weapon bucked in my hand. The pellets smashed into Hassan's chest and face at a range-of three meters, spraying the shards of Holmes's good luck charm in bloody gore across the room.

'Honor.' I told the corpse.

I didn't even feel the blasts of his bodyguards' weapons an instant later.

NATASHA KERENSKY: A BIOMEDICAL REPORT

Tara Gallagher & James Lanigan

Misha Auburn

Archival Report or Natasha Kerensky DBA the Black Widow

Security Clearance: Eyes Only

Number 2 of 3 copies

Object:

Natasha Kerensky is one of the best known and most successful MechWarrior leaders currently active. Kerensky has worked for four of the five Successor States in the last 15 years. Some insight into her motivations, methods, and goals may prove useful in keeping her employed here, or in neutralizing her, should she leave.

Also, Kerenaky's origins are unknown. Especially in light of her name, it is important to know as much as possible about potential problems, conflicts, or hidden agendas.

Methods:

Personal Interview 4/7/3023

Medical Records, Chukchi III, 3020

Personal papers of Natasha Kerensky

‘Natasha Kerensky: The Woman, The Myth, The MechWarrior,’ Reader's Digest, May 3021

Photographs and holographs from Lyran Commonwealth and ComStar Archives

Various unsourced material

HOLOGRAPHIC/PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE

Remarkably few photographs and holographs of Kerensky exist in our archives. Intelligence suggests that the situation is the same in other Houses. This is in keeping with the minimal amount of data extant on Kerensky, but is even more suggestive of deception, or at least coverup.

Computer analysis of exiating physical evidence suggests consistent facio-cranial structure, but alterations of fat and muscle formation. The pictures suggest the same woman with periodic reconstructive surgery.

Those pictures with positive dates suggest facial alteration at of the following dates: 3007* major, 3010* minor, 3013* minor, 3015 minor, 3017 major, 3019 minor, 3020 minor, 3022 minor, 3024 major, 3026 milnor.

*Dates or identification inconclusive.

MEDICAL REPORTS

Medical examination by Lyran Commonwealth Official Physician, as condition of employment by Lyran Commonwealth Armed Forces, is incomplete. On medical history questionnaire, Kerensky lists date and place of birth, parents and date of menarche as ‘unknown, ‘and family medical problems as ‘none.’ Dr. Bona, the attending physician, was unable to get more than ‘time and temperature, ‘that is, a reading of pulse, blood pressure, and temperature. A blood sample revealed no diseases, and then disappeared from the lab.

Dr. Bona did note irregularities in skin appearance highly suggestive of scarring and plastic surgery. Certain shaping of the ears and mouth especially suggested this, and there was evidence of possible burns and skin grafts on Kerensky's arm, although they had been treated to be invisible from a slight distance. No dental records are available, but Dr. Bona's report suggests the possibility of some replaced teeth.

Kerensky probably has suffered at least one instance of severe injury and treatment, including reconstructive surgery by a highly skilled practitioner. There is no way to tell from current records if Kerensky has undergone surgery for merely cosmetic reasons.

INTERVIEW WITH NATASHA K. APR 7 3023

MA: Thank you for your time.

NK: ‘I've always considered history the most important discipline. It's my duty to share my experiences.

MA: With your long and varied career-you've served four governments on dozens of worlds-it's hard to tell where to start.

NK: You might try the beginning.

MA: (Laughs) Good answer. Where are you from?

NK: Human space, I presume.

MA: Well, maybe you could tell me what was the first planet you remember?

NK: Father traveled a lot. I really don't know where we were.

MA: Uh huh. What did your father do?

NK: He was a 'Mech driver, of course. My mother was an engineer. Biological, I think. That seems right.

MA:Genetic?

NK: Yes, she was my mother.

MA: What was your father's regiment?

NK: I really don't know. I was young. I wasn't very political.

MA: I presume you inherited your father's 'Mech.

NK: Oh, no. No.

MA: Why not?

NK: Oh, Misha, dear, I'd rather not talk about that. It was very long ago.

MA: How long ago?

NK: It might have been yesterday, I remember it so vividly. I...I really can't talk about that.

MA: O.K., then where did you get your current 'Mech?

NK: From the wreckage of dozens of battles. The left arm was mostly captured on New Wessex. Both of the feet, -or maybe just one of the feet, came from New Delos. -You can't tell the pieces apart because we paint them all black. MA: Why black?

NK: Because I'm in mourning for my life.

MA: That's horrible. What's wrong?

NK: God, Misha, that was a joke.

MA: Chekhov?

NK: Chekhov.

MA: How did you join Wolf's Dragoons?

NK: I was young. It was spring time. We were MechWarriors.

MA: I thought you said you would help. Do you want to go down in history, as a flippant, snotty bitch?

NK: I don't much care. I've fought in...what...a hundred battles, a thousand battles? It could be a million as far as I know. I've fought for anybody who offered a decent contract and a couple who didn't. And the universe is not much different after all that. I could go on fighting for another hundred years and it would still look the same.

MA: Then why do you do it?

NK: Isn't that obvious? I like it. I like the pay. I like the people I'm with. I like the life. It's interesting. It keeps me young. Mostly, I like the battlefield. Just when you've seen everything, someone finds a new devious wrinkle and you're back where you were 20 years ago. That keeps me young.

And, it's all I know. You might like to raise orchids for a living, but all you know is history. So, you have to love what you do.

Anything else you'd like to know? Some grooming tips for my fans?

MA: a matter of fact, I would like to talk about your appearance.

NK: Now, don't try to make me sound shallow and vain, Misha. Something about how Keren sky laughed, tossing her raven tresses over her shoulder. That sort of thing.

MA:Blond.

NK: Whatever.

MA: There's no denying that you are a striking woman—a large part of the Natasha Kerensky mystique.

NK: Ah, yes. The belle dame sans merci. The sweet young thing who will blast your nuts off. The kitten with a whip. That mystique?

MA: Well, these pictures of you running across battlefields in improbable outfits.

NK: Well, you know that MechWarrlors dress skimpily because of the heat and tight space inside a 'Mech.

MA: And many good-looking MochWarriors have used that to advantage when faced with capture. I'm talking about other clothes.

NK: Like skin-tight leather pants?

MA: That' s a good example.

NK: The pictures you are alluding to are publicity shots, posed on the field after the rubble has started to cool. Some are even shot inside studios and then combined with different backgrounds. (Laughs.) I hope this isn't a shocking deception.

MA: No. It is part of my job to recognize posed pictures from action shots. The problem is, there aren't many action shots of your unit. You don't have a unit photographer or cameras in your 'Mechs, do you?

NK: No. I think that is a ridiculous practice. If we makea brilliant move or a gross blunder, we can remember it. We don't sit around arguing who finished off which Marauder. We have no need for such vanities.

MA: The are very few combat, pictures of the Black Widows. It seems anyone you fight ends up with their 'Mech-mounted cameras busted.

NK: Hey, it's a battle out there, not a holovid studio. Was there something you wanted to know about us?

MA: How is it that you never look the same in two pictures?

NK: Different hair, different makeup, different clothes.

MA: Different face?

NK: That's mostly a trick of the lights, and makeup, and hair. Look, if everyone is sure of what I look like, there's no mystery. More important, I'm easier to spot off the field, when I'm an easier target. And I hate being mobbed by adoring fans.

MA: It's remarkable. It's like there are several Natasha Kerenskys.

NA: Perhaps there are. Perhaps I'm not one of them. Oonoooohhhh scary! Anything else we should let posterity chew over?

MA: Oh-what do you wear to a battle?

NA: Something nice. I like to dress for dinner. Eighty percent of all MechWarriors are men, and you know what they're like. Easily distracted.

MA: Dress for dinner?

NK: It's a custom among some upper classes...

MA: I know. I thought perhaps that was what you called going into battle.

NK: Perhaps. They don't call me the black widow because I have eight legs, you know.

Interviewer's Notes

From this interview, it is painfully obvious that Kerensky does not talk about her past, and is adept at not dropping so much as a clue. She does exhibit a concern with youth and age, as these are mentioned more than any other single theme. As with her ‘emotional' outburst, it is difficult to tell whether this is real feeling or clever manipulation by a master of the art.

The only time Kerensky was slightly hesitant was in response to questions about her appearance. Perhaps this is because few have dared to query her about these matters.

Supervisor's Notes

The schoolgirl who wants topractice being a historian is an excellent role with further uses while it is still available, Misha. Unfortunately, Kerensky was no place to start. Getting an interview with her was quite a coup, but she's impenetrable.

All this tells us is that Kerensky is just another woman who may have had plastic surgery to preserve her youthful good looks.

PAINTING THE TOWN

–Mark O'Green

‘No more.’ Sergeant Gunnar Toshira steadiead himself against the armored personnel carrier's uneven movement, and pulled off his helmet. After wiping the sweat from the bald strip down the center of his short-cropped black hair, he tugged the helmet's padding loose. ‘Somebody please get the hatch. I'm burning up.’

Before anyone else could move. Recruit Miko Wanabe quickly slid out of her sling seat and started working the upper hatch mechanism.

Toshira prodded the cooling unit. ‘No more of this.’ He readjusted the padding and bent to test the helmet again. ‘Twice a year we cross the desert to Sibitsu Station and at least once my helmet fails.’

The hatch popped open. A folding fan of late afternoon sunlight slanted to the back of the vehicle. Recruit Wanabe eagerly turned to Toshira. smiled, then hustled back into her place.

‘Twice a year. One week out—’ Dust swirled in and circled Toshira. He sneezed once and was about to again when the dust he inhaled triggered a coughing fit. Voice raspy, he tossed the offending head gear to the painted steel floor. ‘That's it. My last tour.’

The helmet skidded into the feet of Recruit Aragi Naiku. He arched his long neck and glanced down, trying unsuccessfully not to smile as he reached out to pick up the helmet.

Sergeant Toshira opened his hands, gesturing for Naiku to toss the headgear back. ‘Going to take a picture of yourself with my helmet?’

Naiku's smile opened into an expanse of white teeth as he dropped his free hand to the camera bulge in one pocket. His eyebrows flicked twice, and then he gently tossed the helmet back to his Sergeant.

‘By the way, Aragi, got that timer working yet?’ The Sergeant made another pass across his bald patch. ‘What a relief it will be. No more gadget-crazy Recruits. No more riding in rolling steel cans.’ He coughed again. ‘I will have a life.’

Toshira heard laughter. Wanabe nodded furiously and clenched one fist in a gesture of determination. ‘I. too. plan to go on to be a pilot It is a good thing.’

‘Wha—’ Realizing that the Recruit had interpreted his words to fit her personal dream. Toshira smiled gently. ‘No, Miko. I'm not going to be a 'Mech pilot. I meant a life where I don't get up before the sun. One where I don't guard paint factories in the middle of a desert.’

From the back of the APC, hard face illuminated by wavering light, Corporal Toragi Mannimoto called out. ‘She's expecting a big promotion for opening the hatch. She will become an officer anda man!’

More laughter from the back. Miko flushed, wishing she could sink through the webbing and disappear into the bulkhead.

‘And I won't have to put up with too-smart troops.’ Toshira said.

Naiku patted Miko reassuringly and addressed his Sergeant. ‘Then returning your helmet makes me head of Internal Security Force.’

Toshira snorted. ‘No. I think that position is already filled,’ he told Mannimoto.

The Corporal glared back. ‘The woman has to learn her place.’

‘As you should learn yours. Corporal?’ The Sergeant held eye contact for a moment, then moved to the hatch opening. Before disappearing, he turned back. ‘No more.’

Toshira stared to the southwest, across the top of the Scorpion tank left and forward of him, searching for specific mountains. The armored formation was staggered, supposedly to reduce dust, but even the foothills were hazy. Toshira bent down. ‘Not too much longer.’

A voice from below called out. ‘Sergeant? Is Teddy Kurita going to be there?’

‘Teddy?A close, personal friend of yours?’ Toshira tried to identify the speaker.

The only answer was Naiku's snicker.

Toshira's face wrinkled up, and his mouth became a wide gash as he mimicked Aragi's smile. ‘No, Teddyis not coming. Why would he want to come here?’

‘Do you question the way of authority?’

‘No, Mannimoto. I'll leave that to you.’

Toshira heard murmurs as he stretched back into the hatch opening. He stood silently, enjoying a rare breeze that had suddenly come up.

In the distance, he could now see his landmark hill, a worn mound with a pasty white streak. Old Man's Curse, he called it Anyone who saw it once was destined to see it enough times to become old, too.

A speck of sand made him blink. As his eyes caught a hint of blue, he looked back to Old Man's Curse.

The top ot the Scorpion was gone.

Then the concussion hit, Shrapnel tore noisy holes in the surrounding air. The force buffeted Toshira and he rolled with it, tucking his legs to a fall inside the vehicle. ‘Full speed!’ he yelled to the driver. ‘Veer right!’ Then he shouted. ‘We're under attack!’

The squad scrambled, and a series of nearby blasts rocked the APC. ‘Right side hatch.’ Toshira barked to Wanabe, who was already breaking the seal.

The Sergeant glimpsed a figure moving to the turret. ‘No! Prepare to evacuate!’

Mannimoto raised his head. ‘Continue!’ He pushed through two crouching soldiers. ‘Toshira. we must fight!’

Toshira started toward his Corporal. ‘First we contact the station. Aragi?’

‘Just static, Sergeant.’

Long seconds passed as Toshira and Mannimoto glared at one another. They heard explosions outside, but only the hissing ot the radio inside.

A nearby blast sent the APC sliding to one side. As the Sergeant regained his feet, he ordered sharply, ‘Everyone out!’

Wanabe went though first, one hand on her rifle, the other on the opening to swing to the left. Naiku swung right. Toshira passed in between. The two Recruits hesitated, but followed Toshira.

At the sound of nearby impacts, Toshira spun and threw himself over a small dune.

Wanabe and Naiku dove beside him. Mannimoto was just meters clear of the doorway when an autocannon volley split the opposite side of the APC. The explosion threw Mannimoto even further away as debris sprayed into the air. The vehicle lifted briefly, teetered on a track, then thudded back into the sand.

Toshira took a breath to calm himself and restrained Naiku from heading back. The Sergeant had witnessed the effects of high-velocity impact on an APC before. He remembered how the interior metal peeled away and turned to shrapnel. And he remembered what it did to the men inside. Mannimoto lifted his head to see. As the smoke and dust cleared, the Kuritans watched a 'Mech lance close on the broken armored column.

‘Marauders!’Wanabe said, gaping. Toshira grunted and scanned the battlefield. The 'Mechs had hit the tanks first. The only Hunter was destroyed, its turret mostly gone, and the top shredded and peeled back like a child's toy. All of the Scorpions showed damage, too. Few were operational, with only one unscathed. Troops scattered across the sand, some tiring, others looking for leadership. Toshira tried his communicator but got only the buzz of static.

Naiku readied his rifle and aimed at the closest 'Mech.

‘No!’ Toshira grabbed the Recruit's shoulder. ‘Don't make yourself a target.’ He pointed west. ‘Start that way. We must get to the station.’

‘We must stop the 'Mechs!’ Mannimoto turned and crouched in the sand.

‘Recruits Wanabe and Naiku, it Corporal Mannimoto does not follow my orders in five seconds, you will shoot him. When we reach the station, you will file reports on how the Corporal refused to do his duty to protect Sibitsu Station. Four, three—’

Mannimoto turned, saw raised rifles, and scrambled over to the Sergeant. ‘It is not I who am without honor. We must fight!’

‘You're right. Mannimoto ..But not in open desert.’ Toshira grabbed the Corporal's jerkin and spun him to face the burning APC. ‘This is not a time for mushin !Being of the no-mind will not kill a 'Mech!’

At that moment, Naiku started back toward the battle. Loping along, he pointed at a smoldering Scorpion and the lone figure limping away from it

Toshira released Mannimoto and scanned the battle scene. Two Scorpions fired and hit the same point on one Marauder.Smoke issued from its underside.

Wanabe pushed out of the sand. ‘Lords of the House. They're perfect’

‘You are blinded by desire, woman.’ Mannimoto pushed her back down. ‘One of them is burning!’

Flames belched front and rear, then the canopy flew off, followed by the reports from several small explosions. The 'Mech folded forward and fell into a burning heap.

‘See. It falls.’

‘No, the armor’

Toshira sensed something in Wanabe's voice. ‘Explain.’

‘No patches’ Wanabe gulped down dusty air. ‘ Maraudershave special armor no one knows how to make anymore. Any time one is hit, it must be repaired with lesser armor. These Mechs show no patches.’

Touching Toshira's arm, Mannimoto added. ‘And no insignia.’

Toshira shook his head. ‘All your Mech studies pay off, eh, Miko?’

‘She dreams the impossible.’ Mannimoto glared at Wanabe. ‘You do not understand the Kurita ways. A woman of your status will never, never pilot a 'Mech.’

Naiku and the Injured soldier, a woman nearly his height, approached.

Toshira broke cover, met them, and positioned himself under her free arm. ‘Lance Corporal Gudmansen. isn't it?’

‘Edith A.. Sergeant Toshira.’

‘Glad you could make it Let's move.’

They watched the fighting as they ran.

Only the three remaining Maraudersstill moved, and one hobbled with a damaged leg. All of the armored vehicles were stopped, abandoned, or destroyed.

Red and blue streams played over the previously untouched Scorpion. Its front end ruptured, the turret lifting off the body and gouging into the sand behind.

Naiku wiped sweat from he eyes. ‘We cannot stop them.’

‘It has been done before.’ Wanabe turned her head in time to watch a Marauderrake autocannon fire across a burning Scorpion. ‘On Garrison, when Katrina Steiner pulled her 'Mechs, the ground forces still destroyed fifteen of our lances.’

‘A lie,’ Mannimoto spat out ‘Propaganda. And our woman believes it.’

Gudmansen clenched her teeth. Wanabe just stared ahead.

‘Even Kuritans can learn the hard lesson. Mannimoto.’ Toshira shrugged under Gudmansen's extra weight ‘We'll get to station and see if we can teach them one.’

The station's outline finally appeared, a dark line that the fading sunlight could not reach. The line accented the base of the mountains that rose to become an expanse of black wall.

Naiku unslung his rifle. ‘Should I fire shots to get their attention?’

‘Wait’ Toshira resorted to binoculars. ‘That won't be necessary. The 'Mechs have already been there.’

They continued cautiously. As they approached, the scene became clearer. There was a breach in the six-meter high wall south of the gates. The front gates were twisted open, another broken Hunter just inside.

The remnants of the squad passed through the gates, greeted by concrete-gray debris scattered on concrete-gray streets.

‘This place would look dead even without the rubble.’ Gudmansen shrugged free of her support and hobbled over to the cold Hunter. She sat and examined her leg.

Toshira nodded. ‘Economics. The material for making the marking dyes was abundant, so the base was built here instead of having to haul the materials across the desert.’ He moved to the Hunter and leaned against a heavy tread. ‘And built cheaply.’

‘And ugly.’ Naiku pulled his camera free, and focused on a blown-out section of wall, but did not press the button.

‘And ugly.’ Toshira pulled out his field phone, wishing he had more advanced equipment. ‘Let me try this antique again. Keep your heads up.’

Wanabe pivoted and aimed binoculars through the gate.

Mannimoto crouched by Toshira and the tank tread, rifle ready.

‘Aragi.’ Toshira pointed up. ‘Check the base for movement.’

The lanky Recruit scaled the Hunter, sat, and scanned.

Keeping his own eyes to the east, Toshira squeezed the phone button. ‘Sibitsu Station. Sibitsu Station, replacement unit at– replacement unit inbound...Anyone at Sibitsu. reply please.’

Everyone waited quietly. The only noise was the crackle of static.

Then it changed The fuzzy sound became more intense, louder.

Toshira stood. ‘Aragi. look outward.’

Naiku swiveled a half-circle left, then swung back. ‘Incoming! From the south!’ He leaned for a better look. ‘One—no—two Marauders.I can just make them out’

Mannimoto hunted for a better position. ‘Now we know why it took so long.’

Wanabe turned to Toshira. ‘They probably have support and reload down south.’

‘Makes sense. Judging from the hole in the wall, at least one of them came from the south the first time.’ Toshira tilted up his head. ‘Aragi, get down here. Time to move.’

‘Why?’ Mannimoto demanded. ‘Let's end it here. Next you'll suggest surrender.’

‘Toragi—’

‘No. No more talk. My father's told me stories of Steiner prisons. It's not the place for a soldier to die.’

Gudmansen hobbled in front of Toshira and shrugged ‘I've heard stories, too.’

Recruit Naiku landed in the sand beside them. ‘What can we do? We don't have the arms to stop them.’

‘We'll check the armory.’

Mannimoto slapped his hand against the tank. ‘Think we'll find one of these?’

‘Let me ask you something. Mannimoto.’ Toshira tightened the circle. ‘How old were you when you were named?’

‘five. Like everyone else But—’

The Sergeant gently pulled Wanabe around to face the others. ‘Miko. how many districts in the Draconis Combine?’

‘Five. Serg—’

‘How many Pillars, Mannimoto?’

‘Five—’

‘Wanabe. virtues?’

‘Five.’ Wanabe nodded, smiling. ‘Gudmansen, the winning number in House Dice is...’

She nodded. ‘Five.’

What?’

‘Five, Sergeant!’

The Sergeant swept his hands, palms up, inside the circle. ‘Aragi. how many soldiers here?’

The lanky Recruit's face stretched into another grin. ‘We are five, Sergeant.’

Toshira looked again at a thoughtful Mannimoto. ‘We are five.’

Toshira and Mannimoto had guarded the base before and suggested the armor repair shop as a base. The front of the twelve-meter high building had collapsed in the earlier battle, but there was an opening large enough for Humans to pass through. A smaller passage through rubble led to a connecting warehouse in the rear.

The sprawling repair area was clear of vehicles, except for a functional industrial exoskeleton. Unable to put weight on the wounded leg, Gudmansen resorted to the machine for movement.

‘Too bad we don't have a tank,’ Gudmansen said, lifting a paint sprayer. ‘We've got enough chemicals to fix one.’

Toshira stepped back from a large pit used for working under armored vehicles. ‘Like what?’

‘Got it all here. Dozens of sprayers. Ther-mo-chem, softens armor with heat. Isotherm, cools and hardens It. Even acid to melt wreckage away.’

Toshira hurried to the workbench. ‘Show me.’ Over his shoulder, he called, ‘Miko, does this work on 'Mechs. too?’

‘Yes. Sergeant.’

Mannimoto appeared in the front opening carrying two empty inferno launchers. ‘Armory's gone. Found these in the street.’

Naiku ran through the opening. In his haste, he bumped into Mannimoto. ‘ Sorry, but look what I found.’ He held up a bulging satchel. ‘Grenades, thousands of them!’

Reaching into the bag, Mannimoto pulled out a fist-sized container. He twisted the top and threw it at a wall.

Naiku dove to the floor as a blue smear blossomed on the wall.

Mannimoto hauled him up and pulled another grenade free. ‘Worthless dye markers.’

‘Not necessarily.’ Toshira crossed the concrete space and took the grenade from his Corporal. ‘Miko, would the paint block sensors on a 'Mech?’

‘Yes, but radar would go right through.’

Gudmansen turned the exoskeleton. A metal foot stepped on a loose bolt and it shot across the floor and pinged off the wall. ‘Just get the 'R' mode. Got metal flake in them. Used to paint targets so we could see them and locate 'em with radar, too.’

Toshira reached up and snagged Naiku around the neck. ‘I think we need to talk.’

Let's go through it again.’ The Sergeant moved lug nuts in a pattern on the floor.

Asound interrupted him. Although it was muffled through the passage, all five Kuritans could easily make out the loudspeaker broadcast. ‘Sho-sa Theodore Kurita. Come out and surrender. No harm will come to you, Commander Kurita.’