Текст книги "Riposte"

Автор книги: Michael A. Stackpole

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16

Tharkad

District of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth

31 December 3027

The Lyran Intelligence Corps operative cleared his throat gently. "Excuse me, Captain Allard, but the Archon and Colonel Kell are returning to the party."

Jeana gave Dan's hand a squeeze. "Go on. I'll catch up with you later."

Dan nodded and smiled. "I'm counting on it. And thank you for listening." He turned toward the LIC agent. "Lead on."

The agent pointed out a path, but was silent as he led the way back out of the garden. Dan nodded his thanks to the agent, then searched the crowd for the Archon. He saw her and crossed toward where she had been standing with Morgan. By the time he reached the spot, however, Katrina Steiner had vanished.

Dan found Morgan engaged in conversation with three men. The older two look so uneasy around Morgan,Dan thought, suppressing a smile. I imagine they see him as a ghost from a past they wish would stay dead.

Morgan smiled and made room for Dan in the small group. "Ah, Dan, I'm so glad to see you. Have you met these gentlemen?"

The stiffness in Morgan's tone and body belied the smile on his face, yet Dan responded to the pleasant introduction as though it were genuine. He half-bowed and extended his hand toward the tallest of the trio. The elderly man's platinum hair and his gray eyes marked him as a Steiner. The thin scar running from the corner of his right eye and up into his hairline did not mar the handsomeness of his finely sculpted features, but it did drain from his stern visage some of the power that showed in his cousin Katrina Steiner's face. "I am honored to again meet you, Duke Frederick."

Frederick Steiner inclined his head slightly. "I understand you deserve no small amount of credit in the Silver Eaglerescue."

Dan shook his head. "I did what had to be done, Your Grace."

The smallest of the three men, a barrel-chested noble, offered his right hand. Limping half a step forward, he smiled slyly. "Spoken like a true hero, Captain. Your modesty becomes you."

Dan narrowed his eyes. And your words, Duke Aldo Lestrade, sound like bait for a very deadly trap."I do not see myself as a hero, Duke Lestrade." Dan nodded toward the Duke's plastic and steel left arm. "Learning to live with your new arm or your hip replacement is far more heroic than anything I have done."

Dan looked up at the third man in the group. Though he had the characteristic blond hair of a Steiner, as well as the perfectly chiseled nose and chin, it took Dan a moment to identify the element that did not fit. It was the man's eyes, which were darker than any Steiner that Dan had ever seen. He extended his hand toward the other man. "Daniel Allard."

The third man took Dan's hand in a viselike grip. "I am Ryan Steiner, Captain Allard."

Dan pumped the younger man's hand twice, then broke free. "I'm pleased to meet you."

Morgan smiled as if he'd noticed none of what had passed between Dan and Ryan. "Ryan, more properly the Duke of Porrima, is Duke Frederick's nephew. I was telling them that I knew Ryan's mother, Donna Steiner, when she taught at Nagelring." Facing Ryan, Morgan half-shut his eyes. "Your mother got married at the Academy, and I was proud to be chosen as one of the Honor Guard for the ceremony ..."

Morgan's words trailed off into an arctic silence as another man joined the group. Frederick Steiner and Aldo Lestrade both flinched visibly as the haggard, gray-haired man slipped between them. Ryan smiled with his eyes, and the old man acknowledged him with the faintest of nods, then turned his full attention on Morgan Kell.

"So it is true," he said in a gravelly voice. "The dead walk among us again."

Morgan stared hard at the newcomer, and when he finally answered, his tone was glacial. "Do you speak of yourself, Alessandro Steiner, or do you refer to me?" Morgan let a cruel smile tighten the corners of his eyes. "Ah, I forget my manners. What is the proper form of address for a deposedArchon?"

Alessandro's lips peeled back from his teeth in a snarl as Morgan's riposte drilled home. His gray eyes flashed with anger, but he hid it with a respectful nod toward the mercenary leader. "You always were quick, Morgan Kell." The former Archon shot hooded glances at Frederick and Lestrade. "Thank God, neither of these two have your wit and intelligence. Had they but half of it, any one of their plots might have secured them the throne."

Shock and outrage played across the faces of the two Dukes before they could cover up with looks of feigned innocence. Morgan stared into Alessandro's eyes. "I find your thesis flawed, Alessandro, for with wit and intelligence goes a fierce loyalty to the sense of justice that is the Commonwealth's strongest foundation."

Alessandro Steiner stiffened. "I don't recall, Colonel Kell, ever giving you leave to speak to me with such familiarity."

With his face contorted in outrage, Morgan snapped, "I earned that right, Alessandro, in a year of hell." He drew himself up to his full height. Glancing from Alessandro to Frederick to Lestrade, Morgan dropped his voice to a kind of bass growl. "In that year, I earned the right to help topple you from your throne, and I earned the right to preserve the throne for Katrina Steiner and her line."

Morgan's face hardened and his eyes narrowed. "Do not mistake me, gentlemen, for I want this plainly understood. That is a right I hold very dear, and a right I'll exercise at any cost."

Aldo Lestrade's brown eyes smoldered. "I do not have to tolerate such presumptuousness from a washed-up mercenary!" As he thrust a finger at Morgan's chest, light reflecting from the silver Tamar Tiger badge temporarily blinded the angry noble. "You've spent too many years on that desert world, Colonel. It must have desiccated your brain. You accuse me of disloyalty, but I merely protest the cavalier and negligent attitude of the Archon as it pertains to the welfare of my people."

Morgan grinned wolfishly. "You forget, Duke Lestrade, that Zaniah is in your holding of the Isle of Skye. I've heard your speeches about how the Archon leaves your people naked to the ravages of Marik or Kurita forces. However, Your Grace, I find it curious that not a single 'Mech raid disturbed all my time on Zaniah."

Lestrade snorted defiantly. "While in your meditative cocoon, Colonel, you've not seen many things. Your own company fell prey to a Kurita assault on my world of Chara. As I recall," he said, as though musing idly, "the Kell Hounds abandoned the world to the raiders. Poor troops, incompetent mercenaries, and unfulfilled promises is what I get from the Archon." Lestrade narrowed his brown eyes. "I will protest such treatment whenever I am able."

Frederick Steiner smiled until he saw the implacable look on Morgan's face. Dan swallowed hard. I've only seen that look once before—on Mallory's World when we learned that our battalion would be hosting the Second Sword of Light Regiment, and that no support could reach us.

Morgan's gaze flicked to Alessandro. "I am certain, Alessan-dro, that your time in exile on Furillo has given you a perspective similar to that granted me during my stay on Zaniah." Morgan turned his head enough to spear Lestrade with a hellish look. "Given enough time, Duke Lestrade, one learns to see all the subtle interconnections in this life. Each action creates echoes, much like ripples on a pond. Everything comes back to haunt or to reward a person, and often the consequence of an action is magnified many times when it returns."

Frederick Steiner's brows were knit with frustration. "I'm no politician and I detest these word games. Speak plainly, Kell, but be careful. I will take exception to any threats you offer my friend."

A smile blossomed on Morgan's face. "Amazing," he said, nodding to Aldo Lestrade. "I didn't even see your lips move."

Frederick's face flushed red-purple, but Morgan cut off any protest with a sharp wave of the hand. "Speaking plainly enough for even you to understand, Duke Frederick, is a taxing job, but I will accommodate you. Twenty years ago, when Alessandro left office, forces rallied around your uncle Hermann as a candidate to oppose Katrina. He left public life to avoid being so used and thus did the spotlight fall upon you. You are a leader. Hence you are a good choice ..."

Dan watched as Frederick's face returned to its normal color. The man's been so conditioned to respond to courtiers that he puffs up as Morgan speaks. Incredible!

Morgan's eyes hardened, though his deep voice trembled with the effort to control some powerful emotions. "A leader you are, Duke Frederick, but a military leader only. The Tenth Lyran Guards have an excellent reputation, and under you, have become a feared and respected military force. But you admitted it yourself moments ago: you are no politician."

Morgan nodded at Lestrade. "Men like Lestrade are more than willing to make you believe that you deserve to be Archon. You must be realistic to know that is not true. If you took the time to be honest with yourself, you would realize deep down that to sit on the throne would tear you apart. Once it had destroyed you, petty nobles of questionable background and motives would plunge the Commonwealth into a brutal civil war."

Frederick chewed on his lower lip but made no reply. He distractedly fingered the scar by his right eye, opened his mouth to say something, but then seemed to think the better of it. He glanced at Aldo Lestrade.

Jowls quivering with fury, Aldo Lestrade stared at Morgan Kell. "What do you mean by questioning my background and motives? I come from a family far more noble and notable than yours, Morgan Kell. I resent your impugning my reputation."

Surprise lit Morgan's face. "You do?" His voice rose an octave and he pressed his right hand to his chest like an offended maiden. "Don't tell me, Duke Lestrade, that you've taken to believing those very same revisionist histories of your family that you've paid to have produced?" Morgan stared at him with utter disbelief. "My God, man, those fables redefine the word 'nonsense.' The idea that you alone survived the veritable plague of accidents and raids that killed everyone ahead of you in line for the throne of Summer is improbable. The further suggestion, as presented in the last work, that your good fortune was a sign of favor from God not only makes for bad fiction, it is blasphemous!"

Morgan moistened his lips. "Remember, Lestrade, that what you have done will come back to haunt you. Your father, my brother . . . the blood on your hands will drown you."

The appearance of Franklin Hecht kept Lestrade from any further riposte. "Excuse me, my Lords," said Hecht, "but the Archon has requested the presence of these two mercenaries." The Minister of Protocol gently took their elbows and steered them away from the others.

Dan smiled. "Thank you for your timely intervention."

The Minister shook his head like a schoolmaster carting boys off toward detention. "No one minded your rough handling of Baron Sefnes earlier, Hauptmann Allard, but I could not let a similar situation develop between the Colonel and Aldo Lestrade."

Morgan glanced over at Hecht. "Is he that powerful?"

Hecht hesitated, then nodded regretfully. "In places, yes. His opinions hold near gospel-strength for Skye separatists. Here on Tharkad, many individuals would have applauded your victory in a forceful argument, but. . ."

"But the argument would have been distorted when replayed in the Isle of Skye," Morgan said.

The Minister nodded. "Precisely."

As they spoke, the Minister had been leading Dan and Morgan toward a small set of steps leading up to a dais, where the Archon stood with her daughter. After dismissing the Minister with a nod, she said, "Forgive me, Morgan, for dragging you up here and away from that battle. As much as Lestrade deserves a mauling, I'll not have you begin the new year on such a dark note."

Slipping her hand through the crook of the Colonel's arm, Melissa stepped between her mother and Morgan. "No, to greet a new year in the company of those jackals would be an omen of nothing but trouble." Taking Dan in with her smile, she added, "A new year should be greeted in the company of friends."

Morgan accepted a glass of champagne from the silver tray offered by a servant. "That is a sentiment with which I fully concur, Melissa. Being here with you, Dan, and your mother does indeed make this an auspicious beginning for the year. With your coming wedding, I can imagine nothing but a happy year as well."

Melissa shot a glance at her mother, and the Archon nodded. "You could do something to make it yet happier for me, Morgan Kell," Melissa said, looking up at him.

"For you, Melissa, anything. So what is it to be?"

Melissa glanced down, the lights flashing against the gold of her hair falling to her shoulders. "You were my father's cousin and his friend. I never saw him, at least not to remember, because he died six months after I was born." She reached out and squeezed her mother's forearm. "All I have of him are the holographs and some vids. But, for me, he's always lived in the stories you and Patrick told of him."

Melissa's voice trailed off. Morgan handed Dan his glass of champagne and enfolded Melissa in a hug. "He would have been proud of you, Melissa." He released the Archon-Designate from his embrace and smiled at her.

"What I want to know, Morgan, is whether you would give me away at the wedding."

Morgan's head snapped up as though he'd been punched by a 'Mech. He looked over at Katrina, then smiled as he read the expression on her face.

"Melissa Arthur Steiner, it would be the greatest honor of my life to represent your father at your wedding."

At that moment, the palace's tower clock began to ring with the first of twelve peals to announce the new year. The Archon lifted a glass of sparkling champagne to the three people standing with her on the dais. "May 3028 be filled with love, health, happiness, and . . ."

"Justice, Archon," Morgan added as he spotted Aldo Lestrade in the crowd. "Plenty of justice . . ."

17

New Aragon

Capellan March, Federated Suns

15 January 3028

Captain Andrew Redburn saluted smartly as the orderly closed the door behind him. The dark-haired officer standing behind the gray metal desk returned the salute, then smiled and offered his hand to Andrew. "Good to see you, Redburn." The officer indicated a steel chair beside Andrew. "Please be seated," he said politely, but was clearly uneasy.

Andrew smiled. "Thank you, Colonel Stone." Andrew lowered himself into the chair and noticed the frown that momentarily creased Stone's brow. I wonder what's bothering the old man?

Stone forced himself to smile easily. Shuffling some files on his blue blotter, the Colonel looked up at Redburn. "A few simple things to take care of first, Captain. I see we finally got your Leftenant Craon into the Bachelor Officers' Quarters here on the base."

Andrew nodded. "Craon moved his stuff in yesterday. Now all my junior officers are on base."

"Good." The Colonel flipped open a green evaluation file and grinned somewhat sourly as he read it over. "These are amazingly good scores for a company that arrived on planet barely a month ago, Redburn. You should be proud of your people."

There was no way they were going to do anything but their best in their first evaluation, Colonel."Yes, sir. The honor of being selected for a Davion House unit. . . well, the tradition really seems to bring out the best in my people." Especially because we come from the Capellan March and I'm the only person with an academy background. We've got something to prove—to you and to everyone else in this unit. We're not farmers from the March who think we 're supposed to be running hot AgroMechs around.

The Colonel nodded absently and flipped one page over. Peering up over the edge of the file, he looked at Andrew and chuckled. "Your Corporal Pay en Montdidier earned the regiment's highest rating with small arms. You should know that's irked our Jump Infantry Battalion."

Redburn smiled. No surprise there . . ."I'm certain the Corporal will be happy to hear that, sir." Andrew hesitated as Stone frowned. "About his ranking, I mean, sir."

Stone raised one eyebrow, then closed the file. He slid it to the side, leaving a stark white folder stamped with a red legend alone in the center of his desk. The Colonel looked at it uneasily, then clasped his hands together and leaned forward. His forearms all but obscured the folder.

"Before I get to this last item, Captain, I thought I'd discuss with you the purpose for attaching your company to the First 'Mech Battalion, as your company is organized at this time. While I am not totally in favor of it, the Prince wishes to try an experiment. You're it." The Colonel opened his hands and laid them palms down against the polished surface of his desk.

"First of all, we won't split up your group. With twenty-seven people, you have more than double the personnel normally found in a 'Mech company. That does not disturb us because your people have all trained together. Leaving an odd-sized unit together has worked well with the other training battalions."

Andrew nodded. So much easier to quarantine us . . .

The Colonel eased back, ignoring the white file. "The Prince wants to build your company into a close-assault unit. We've cobbled together a group of 'Mechs that we believe to be uniquely suited to our purposes. Mostly Valkyriesand Jenners,but we've added some Javelinsand Firestartersto round things out."

Andrew nodded slowly. "They're all jump-capable and are fairly fast."

The Colonel smiled. "Exactly. Your job will be to get in and get out quickly after inflicting as much damage as possible to your objective. The Valkyries,with their long-range missile launchers, will give you some distance weaponry, but I see that as a way to discourage pursuit."

"Or," Andrew offered, "a way to soften up a target as we go in." He frowned. "None of those 'Mechs have machine guns to deal with infantry ..."

The Colonel waved away Andrew's reservation. "The Fire-startersare enough to throw a scare into infantry."

Andrew conceded the point with a nod. "I understand, sir, I'm sure my people will gladly accept this challenging honor." His gaze flicked toward the folder. "Is there anything else, sir?"

With the reluctance of a doctor giving a patient bad news, Colonel Stone handed Andrew the white file. "I want you to understand, Captain, that this makes me uneasy. I know how much you valued your time serving with Major Allard. I was with the Fifth Davion Guards on Spica when Justin and Bill Dobson broke the siege on Valencia. Justin saved our butts and there wasn't a MechWarrior in the unit that wouldn't have given his life for Justin."

A scowl darkened Andrew's face, but Stone gave him no opportunity to speak. "People change, Captain. Something snapped inside Justin. I don't know if it was losing his arm or whether it was the trial or what—but he's not the same man we both knew ..."

Andrew shook his head angrily. "Why tell me this, sir? Are you afraid I'll embarrass the unit when some high official comes to visit?"

Stone stiffened at Andrew's accusation, then seemed to shrug it off. "I just want you to read this report in context, Captain." He pointed to the file. "Read it."

Andrew's mouth dried out like a riverbed in a drought. The scarlet legend stretching across the white folder looked like blood on snow and sent a shiver down Andrew's spine. Codeword Only!—Things don't come much more secure.Andrew opened the file with the enthusiasm of a man prying open the lid of a coffin.

He swallowed hard as he recognized the cover sheet's letterhead. Ml 7-Military Intelligence's liaison with the Ministry of Information, Intelligence, and Operations. Why do they have me reading this?Andrew glanced up at Colonel Stone, but his superior officer seemed to stare through him as though he were made of glass.

Andrew turned the page and his heart nearly stopped. He brushed his fingertips across each of the terrible words, wanting to rub them out, to destroy them and the reality they represented.

"RE: Maskirovka Operation on Kittery, 20 Nov 3027," he read. "Analysis.

"In reviewing the information recovered from the Maskirovka stronghold on Kittery, we have made the following discoveries and drawn the following conclusions:

"1) The operation used personnel last known to have been on Sian. All indig Maskirovka agents captured as a result of this operation have defined the assassination attempt as an operation set up and directed by the highest Maskirovka circles on Sian. All documentary evidence supports this claim.

"2) The operatives used were onplanet for two weeks before the assassination attempt. During this time, ample opportunity presented itself for attacks on ranking officers of the Davion Assault Guards, the Capellan Dragoons, and the Kittery Borderers. There were no apparent efforts made to attack the command structure for these units, despite what our investigation shows was poor security during this time period.

"3) During this same time period, the First Kittery Training Battalion was involved in its final testing and graduation program. To prevent the possibility or appearance of cheating, security surrounding this unit ran high at this time.

"4) Complete dossiers on each of the training battalion NCOs and officer candidates was recovered from the Maskirovka warehouse. The details contained in the dossier included information that has been described as 'intimate' and 'insightful.'

"Conclusion: This assassination attempt against the staff of the First Kittery Training Battalion was not a random act of terrorism. The information compiled and the operatives chosen for the mission were directed at one target, and one target only. Orders flowed from Sian with the blessings of the Maskirovka.

"It is our belief that the effort was directed specifically by Justin Xiang against his old command. Xiang is placed highly enough in the Maskirovka to be the source of all orders associated with this operation, and details revealed in the files are appropriate to the level of information he had as the unit's Commanding Officer. The attempt even took place at what was known to be Xiang's favorite restaurant in Shaoshan. Though this last point may well be a coincidence, it is inconceivable that Justin Xiang had no previous knowledge of this operation."

Andrew's hands trembled as he closed the file. Pale and shaking, he handed it back to Colonel Stone. "I... I don't know what to say." His head had begun to pound with each heartbeat. "I can't believe it."

Stone nodded sympathetically. "I know, Captain. I can hardly believe it myself." He glanced down at the folder and shrugged impotently. "The spooks generally know what they're talking about."

Andrew clenched his jaw to stop it from trembling. "Dammit, Colonel! It makes no sense! Why hit a training battalion's staff?"

Stone shook his head. "I don't know, Redburn. But you're absolutely right. It makes no sense." The Colonel tapped the file with a finger. "I think that's why they've put it down to a personal vendetta. I've seen vids of the trial, and I saw a holovid of Justin's last fight on Solaris. There's no love lost between him and the Prince."

Andrew shrugged. All that may be true, Colonel, but there's something wrong.He ground his teeth and balled his fists. No matter what anyone says, I know Justin didn't change—at least not in that way. Murder just isn't his style.

He glanced up at the Colonel. "I know I can't say anything about that report to my men. What should I do?"

Stone took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. "Just be careful, Redburn. Tell your men to stay alert. You're a lot safer here on New Aragon than you were on Kittery, but we don't want to give Justin Xiang a chance to succeed a second time where he has already failed once."