Текст книги "Natural Selection"

Автор книги: Michael A. Stackpole

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

"With what forces will you attack Elissa?"

Nelson's mind reeled with the repetition of the question. The Thirty-first Wolf Solahma left Arc-Royal before I told the Khan where the Red Corsair maintained her hideout. Conal could only have gotten that information from her, which means he is in league with her. But his Khan opposes her. How can this be?"

Nelson heard the fury in the Khan's voice. "Star Colonel Conal Ward, I am your Khan. I order you to abandon Elissa and to turn the Red Corsair over to me."

"No."

"You realize you are committing an act of treason, Star Colonel."

Conal shook his head. "With all due respect, my Khan, it is you who are leading a force from the Inner Sphere to conquer a world held by the Wolf Clan. I am defending it against your treason."

Phelan leaned in toward the screen. "Is this really how you want to play this out, Conal? If so, I will see to it that all your offspring are slain and your DNA is expunged from all breeding programs."

Conal lost a bit of his color, but his face hardened into a mask of hatred. "Ifyou defeat me, Khan Phelan, you mightbe able to carry out your threat. I will be defending Elissa with the Thirty-first Wolf Solahma. I would ask you to refrain from using your aerospace fighters."

The Khan shook his head. "No, Conal, you made your bed, now you can die in it. We will attack with everything we have. You have grossly overstepped yourself, Conal, and you will pay."

The other Clan warrior managed a sarcastic smile. "Winners write the history, Khan Phelan. Remember that, and hope that I will be generous when I write your epitaph."

40

Elissa

Wolf Clan Occupation Zone

25 October 3055

 

Phelan shrugged on his cooling vest and snapped it up. He pointed to the holographic map of the valley for which they were headed. "Conal will be waiting for us here, at the north end of the valley. The settlement here, near the south, looks empty. We do have indications of an extensive underground network—both from our sensors and from what Geist told us about the virtual world in which the Red Corsair had him running around." He glanced up at Christian Kell. "Geist confirmed the layout of the town?"

Chris nodded. "He said it matched."

Evantha pointed at the map. "What are the chances Conal will have rigged this settlement the way you booby-trapped Denton?"

"Good question." Phelan belted his pistol on and bent over to tie the holster down to his right leg. "I would say they are slim. He wants us to land close to him, which precludes our running to the city to get trapped. It also makes me think there will not be an ambush from a force hidden there."

The young Khan looked over at Carew and Caitlin. "If there isany force coming out of the city at us, that is when you hit them. Conal did not want you in the fight. I want you flying CAP in case we need you. I want you up to preoccupy him."

Chris frowned. "Why not just strafe the hell out of his troops?"

Phelan ground his teeth. He's right, it would be easier."Because those troops are still members of the Wolf Clan. I do not want to have to kill them if it can be avoided."

Dan Allard passed a hand through the mountains at the rear of the Wolf Solahma lines. "These mountains are a warren of mines. If Conal takes his people in there, it will be nasty infighting to root them out."

"Then we will let them starve in there. My main concern is to get the Red Corsair." Phelan pulled his pistol from the holster and jacked a round into the breech. Easing the hammer down, he returned the weapon to its holster. "We are going to defeat Conal, get the Red Corsair, and get out."

The Owl's Nestjerked a bit as it entered the atmosphere. Phelan looked at the men and women filling the small briefing room. Young and old, they all knew what they were getting into and he sensed no fear, Only impatience. "We are about an hour away from touching down. Any last-minute questions?"

Chris raised his hand. "Are you going to commute Kommandant Geist's sentence?"

"Chris, he switched sides. He shot at ourpeople." Phelan shook his head. "I cannot give him a 'Mech."

"Seems to me, cousin, that he is not the first man ever to shoot at forces from his own nation."

The bitter acrimony in Chris's voice squeezed Phelan's heart. He acknowledged the observation with a nod. "True, cousin, I switched sides and shot at people from the Inner Sphere. Were I in his position, would you give me a 'Mech?"

Chris started to answer, then caught himself. "Touché, Phelan. I think you're wrong, but it is your decision."

Phelan gave his cousin a quick smile. "And I think you're right. I also know I'd rather regret not having armed a loyal man than regret putting a traitorous man into the cockpit of a 'Mech."

"Point."

"Battle stations, everyone." Phelan hit a button and the planetary tableau vanished. "We have found our quarry, now we need to kill it."

* * *

Nelson Geist held his hand against his forehead to shade his eyes. "Where? I don't see her."

Standing beside Geist on the nose of the stationary hovercar they had borrowed from the Owl's Nest,Bates pointed through a gap between Alpha and Beta Battalions of the Kell Hound regiments. "There she is. It's a red BattleMaster."

Nelson squinted his eyes and tried to make out something through the waves of heat blurring the dust cloud raised by the advancing Kell Hounds. "I can't see anything." He dug an elbow into Bates's ribs. "Let me use your binoculars."

Bates ducked his head to get the strap off his neck and handed the heavy field glasses over. Nelson wiped the sweat from the edge of the viewing lenses, then raised them to his eyes. Holding them as steady as he could with his half-hand, he focused them with his right index finger.

The Kell Hounds, with their BattleMechs painted black on the legs and red on the body and arms, had their backs to him. In their center he saw a knot of black 'Mechs that were the Khan and his Star. Half-hidden by the dust cloud that the titanic war machines had raised were the Elementals of Evantha's command reinforcing the far left portion of the mercenary formation, its western flank.

Beyond them, through the gap Bates had pointed out earlier, Nelson focused on the Thirty-first Wolf Solahma. Their 'Mechs had been painted a drab olive green that Nelson thought was suitably martial, but decidedly unremarkable. He knew that the Thirty-first Solahma, though a Clan unit, was despised by the Khan and his people. If the Thirty-first Solahma were judged by the amount of work put into the decorations on the 'Mechs present, they would have come out at the bottom of the heap.

Nelson guessed that they sank even lower in the Khan's estimation because they had with them four other BattleMechs. Three of the machines he did not recognize, though their scarlet and gold markings were appropriate for the bandits. The last machine he did know, and know very well. So, she is there. I wonder if she is wondering whereI am?

"See her now?"

Nelson nodded, losing sight of her for a moment, then finding her again when her 'Mech began to move forward. As the BattleMasterclosed with the Kell Hounds, he thought he noticed hesitation. The 'Mech did not move with the fluid grace the Red Corsair had always shown. What's going on? Shehas to be there. Thathas to be her.

Nelson lowered the glasses and rubbed at his eyes. Raising them once more he saw the BattleMasterswing its right PPC toward the Kell Hound line, then bring it back as it overcorrected the first targeting maneuver. My God. . .

Nelson held the glasses out for Bates. "Yeah, I see."

The security man reached for the binoculars and never saw Nelson's right knee come up and around. The knee caught Bates in the groin, doubling him over, then Nelson brought the binoculars down and clipped him behind the right ear. Bates toppled from the hovercar and landed unconscious on the ground.

Nelson jumped down beside him and laid the glasses on his chest. "Sorry, my friend, but you wouldn't have understood." He hopped into the hovercar and freed the shotgun from the scabbard on the left side of the vehicle. Laying it on the seat beside him, he started the car and sent it speeding toward the settlement.

* * *

Phelan knew that when the first exchange came his 'Mech would be targeted for destruction. Though well-armored for a light 'Mech, it was nothing in comparison to the Man O'WarConal piloted. That 'Mech was an OmniMech—top-of-the-line Clan war materiel like the Warhawkin which Ranna fought. A single hit by almost any of Conal's weapons would be enough to tear a limb off the Wolfhound.

The rest of the Thirty-first Solahma had BattleMechs that were equal to or slightly less than what the Kell Hounds had arrayed against them. Because the Thirty-first were intended to be fighting bandits, the Clans wasted none of their new 'Mechs on them. Conal's OmniMech was a relic of the glory he had once known.

The battle lines were drawn just over a kilometer apart. Ready reports filled Phelan's secondary monitor. The Hounds were ready. He adjusted his pistol and decided he was too. He keyed his radio.

"Conal Ward, you are hereby stripped of your command of the Thirty-first Wolf Solahma. You are to report to me immediately. You will be placed under arrest, pending a court-martial for insubordination and disobeying a superior officer. All those in your command are hereby offered amnesty if they leave you now."

He watched his holographic battle display, but, as he expected, none of the Wolves on the other side moved. He spotted Conal in the center of the enemy formation and saw the Red Corsair coming up beside him. "It does not have to end this way, Conal."

Conal's derisive laugh burst into Phelan's neurohelmet. "I was wrong when I said you were a Wolf before, Phelan. You are still an Inner Sphere weakling. No Wolf would have offered me a second chance to surrender. If you were a true Wolf, one of us would already be dead."

Phelan flipped his radio over to Tac One. "It is time."

* * *

Nelson Geist steered the stolen hovercar through the streets he had wandered ages ago. The town was not as neat and clean as it had been in the simulation, but he instantly recognized every aspect of it. It sent a shiver down his spine and started him sweating. He stopped the vehicle, got out-and vomited.

He remained on his hands and knees, his chest heaving as his stomach tried to purge itself. He mentally demanded that it stop. I am here for a purpose.He wiped his mouth on his left sleeve. She had contempt for me. She saw me as weak. I amnot weak!

Reaching up, he grabbed the edge of the hovercar and pulled himself to his feet. From the car he took the pump shotgun and jacked a shell into the chamber. The weapon dangled from his right hand by the pistolgrip as he stalked across the empty plaza toward the main building. "I know where you are. I have you. You are mine."

* * *

The Kell Hound close assault lances entered the gap between the two forces as their fire support lances sent flight after flight of missiles arcing up and over them. Chris Kell fought the leftward rotation of his charging Thunderboltwhen its shoulder-mounted LRM launcher sent a flight of fifteen missiles at the enemy. Keeping his crosshairs steady on the Clintthat was his target, he let go with his extended range large laser and the trio of medium pulse lasers in his arsenal.

Two of the pulse lasers missed at that range, but the third slashed open the armor on the Clint'sright arm. Semi-molten armor plates dropped to the ground, exposing metal bones, synthetic muscles, and the complex mechanism of the 'Mech's particle projection cannon. The Thunderbolt'slarge laser thrust a green energy beam into the Clint'schest, melting away all but a thin armor veneer.

Four of the missiles Chris had launched slammed home in the same spot, blasting away the last of the armor and causing some internal damage. When another set of missiles savaged the armor on the 'Mech's right leg, Chris thought the machine had wobbled a bit, but it stayed upright.

The Clint'sreturn fire hit the Thunderbolthard, the PPC devouring nearly a ton of armor on the left side of the 'Mech's chest. The two pulse lasers mounted in the Clint'storso converged on the Thunderbolt'smidline. They cut bubbling furrows in the armor over the big 'Mech's heart, but failed to breach it. Chris successfully fought the unbalancing effect of losing so much armor, and kept his 'Mech charging forward.

* * *

Nelson Geist spat on the tile floor of the dimly lit corridor. Down below the surface of the planet the heat was intense, and he felt sweat soaking his shirt. Droplets of perspiration also ran down his temples and speckled his upper lip. He licked it off, then wiped his half-hand on his pants before returning it to the shotgun's pump.

As he crept down the hallway toward the forbidden corridor, a nervous smile stole over his face. If I were in a 'Mech, I would have a cooling vest and I would be bone-dry in a cockpit five times as hot as this.He glanced down and checked for the hundredth time to see that the gun's safety was off.

Turning the corner Nelson felt a constriction in his throat. He nearly panicked, imagining for a second that somehow the shock-collar had been again fitted around his neck. His half-hand clawed at his collar, but when he felt only flesh and the burning rake of his fingernails, he leaned back against the wall. This time there is nothing to stop you.

He wiped stinging sweat out of his eyes and resumed his trek to the end of the corridor. There, just as he had seen in the simulation, stood two closed doors. Almost closed,he corrected himself. A thin bar of yellowish light separated the doors. His smile returned, but his teeth clamped down to stifle any cry of triumph that might escape him.

Step by step, meter by meter, he paced his way forward silently. He forced himself to breathe through his nose, searching the musty dry air for any hint of her, but the only scent was the stink of his own vomit and perspiration. As he exhaled, the droplets of sweat that had collected around his nostrils sprayed down over his hands.

Nearing the doors he heard a pair of clicks. He glanced back the way he'd come, fearing the approach of guards armed to cut him down on the threshold of his goal. He saw no one and nothing behind him and realized that the noise had come from the room. He ran the sounds through his mind and could think of no weapon that sounded quite like that when cocked. Sounded more like the latches on a briefcase being opened.

Nelson took one last deep breath as he pushed the left door open noiselessly. In his time on the Tigressand in countless nightmares afterward he had imagined incredible and horrible things in the room beyond those doors. Torture chambers, a hall of horrors, a trophy room decorated with bits and pieces of individuals the Red Corsair had defeated, with the missing half of his hand featured prominently. Yet whatever he had imagined in fevered, malevolent dreams, none of it approached the malignant reality.

As he entered the room, the Red Corsair twisted the head of the cylinder she had inserted into the blocky device built into the wall. The yellow and black safety tabs came away as her motion locked the cylinder in place. She tossed the tabs aside, then smiled as she looked up and saw him. "I thought it might be you."

Nelson looked from her to the briefcase on the desk in front of her and then to the thing on the wall. The warning symbol on the back of the briefcase was one he knew from his cadet training so long ago. Though he could not see into the case, he knew it had a soft foam bed with a cutout to hold the cylinder in place because, as his instructor had said, "nuclear mine triggers are not built to be banged around."

A nuclear mine? This whole valley, everything, will be destroyed. She is mad!

"It's me." Nelson motioned with the gun and the Red Corsair raised her hands. "It's over for you."

The Red Corsair shook her head. "You will not kill me, Nelson Geist."

"I won't? You're here assembling a nuclear device that will wipe out everything in this valley, save those in the bunkers built into the mountains. You're beyond mad, you're evil. There is nothing you could say that would stop me from killing you."

She smiled carefully. "I love you, Nelson Geist." Her hands slowly fell to caress her stomach through her cooling vest. "I am carrying your child."

* * *

From the first exchange the battle began to go exactly the way Phelan knew it had to. The Thirty-first Wolf Solahma had begun to retreat before the gap could be closed. Their goal was obviously to pull back into the mountain stronghold and fight from there, but Conal had established his line too far forward. He must have forgotten that the Hounds are equipped with weapons like ours—weapons salvaged from the Smoke Jaguars and Nova Cats after the battle for Luthien.

Phelan smiled as he realized that was the solution to the mystery of how Conal had been caught away from his cover. He had expected that a couple of long-range exchanges would slow the Hound advance, then he could withdraw in good order to the mountains. Because he had been too arrogant to coordinate with the Hounds during any of the bandit-hunting operation, he had never learned what they could do. Your stupid arrogance is the reason the truce must remain. If we do not learn to respect the Inner Sphere, they will swarm over and destroy us.

The Khan saw Conal's 'Mech pulling back, but he stopped as a hailstorm of LRMs brought the Red Corsair's BattleMasterto its knees. The Man O'Warinterposed itself between the downed BattleMasterand the Kell Hound lines.

The Man O'Warraised its two arms and crossed them above its head in a clear Clan challenge. "I am untouched, Khan Phelan. Will you be the one to finish me?" Behind him his lines crumbled and the Thirty-first broke running for the bunkers.

Phelan opened his radio and folded in all the tactical frequencies. "What do you offer me if I win?"

"My people surrender."

"They will abide by this?"

"They will, Khan Phelan."

Phelan's eyes narrowed. You are a cheating, treacherous bastard. You cheated during the last fight for my Bloodname and you have done almost as much damage in the Inner Sphere as the Red Corsair.Phelan saw a signal indicator flicker, and his secondary monitor reported that a coded tightbeam message had gone out from Conal to the settlement. You have something up your sleeve, but I have Carew and Caitlin's pilots in the air to forestall an ambush.Phelan set his computer to beep if an answer came back on that narrow frequency, then nodded.

"Bargained well and done, Conal." The Khan smiled to himself as his 'Mech started to move away from the Kell Hound lines. You have your trick, and I have mine. Who will fool whom?

* * *

"My child?"

As Nelson spoke, the Red Corsair lunged for the briefcase. Nelson thrust his gun in her direction and yanked the trigger. The first cloud of lead pellets caught her in the left shoulder, twisting her around. As she swung back to the left, her right hand come up out of the case with the machine pistol that had been concealed there.

Without thinking Nelson pumped another shell into the gun and fired again. Her machine pistol lipped flame back at him, then his second shot hit the gun and destroyed the lower half of her right arm. Her body slammed back against the wall, then slid to the floor, leaving bloody streaks to mark her passage.

Nelson felt himself gasping for air and thought it was because of the shock of such close combat, then he tasted blood on his lips. He looked down and saw two holes in his shirt. The pain started when he dropped his gun and pressed his right hand and forearm against the wounds. But when he pulled his arm away, the pain became even greater.

He took a step forward, then another. The world began to grow dim, but Nelson refused to pass out. Hugging his arm tight to his body, he reached out with his maimed hand and stumbled forward to the desk. He batted the case aside, toppling it to the floor, then worked his way around the corner.

When he saw her, he fell to his knees and knew he'd never stand up again. She was dead—pellets from the first burst had blown her throat out yet somehow left her face untouched. He reached out with his left hand and closed her staring eyes. He bent his head for a moment, mourning what might have been were black changed for white in the universe. Then he began to look for a place to die.

The radio handset on the Red Corsair's belt beeped, and a voice said, "They are in position. Do it now."

Nelson spat out blood and plucked the black box from her belt. He clutched it in his left hand, waiting for what seemed like a lifetime to build up the strength needed to raise it. He heard air slowly hissing out of his lungs, but he forced himself to lift the device to his face. He pressed the red switch down.

"You're on your own." He stopped and caught his breath. "When you get to hell, she can tell you where it went wrong."

* * *

Phelan knew his only advantage lay in the speed of his 'Mech. While Conal's Man O'Warcould have nearly matched him in a foot race, the Wolfhoundcould sometimes be almost impossible to hit because of its agility. If Conal was not careful about the heat buildup in his 'Mech—a tall order for a 'Mech that handled heat as efficiently as the Man O 'War—his targeting circuits would start to fry.

Phelan had to wait for Conal to falter. Moving fast would make him a difficult target, but it also made it damned hard for him to hit anything either. Push him, make him push himself, then take him!The Khan started forward and worked to his own right, keeping as far as possible from the Man O 'War'sright arm.

Conal shifted the 'Mech right and thrust the right arm at the Wolfhound.Twin ropes of crackling blue energy shot out from the over and under PPC muzzles. Both gouged great furrows through the ground behind the lithe Wolfhound,flinging half-molten chunks of rock into the air. The Man O'War'sleft arm also tracked Phelan, but its large and medium pulse lasers scattered their energy darts high over the 'Mech's head.

He missedhigh? What is he doing ?Phelan shook his head as he watched the Man O'Warmove awkwardly. Conal is being sloppy. What is his game? Does he think he can lure me in close? He moves so I cannot kill him, but he is not putting out his full effort to kill me. Why not?

Phelan flipped his holographic display over to infrared and was rewarded with a glowing outline of the Man O'War.Conal had already succeeded in pushing it, but the heat was not thathigh. It would not take enough of an edge off Conal's aim to make any sort of approach possible. As he hesitated, then pushed the Wolfhoundforward in a burst of speed, he had the sinking feeling that Conal—no matter how sloppy he got—would never give him the opening he needed to win.

Suddenly his computer beeped, informing him of the reply to Conal's tightbeam. Phelan looked up and saw that Conal had stopped tracking him for the moment. The Man O'Warmissed a step, then two, and the weapons dipped half a meter toward the ground.

Phelan cut left with the Wolfhoundand closed the gap between the two machines. Continuing his circle, but drawing it tighter, the Wolfhoundslipped beyond the forward arc of the Man O'War'sweapons. Coming around into the slowly turning 'Mech's aft, Phelan dropped his crosshairs onto the OmniMech's broad back, then cut loose with everything.

The large laser mounted in the Wolfhound'sright arm used the green beam like a scalpel, ripping a huge hole in the armor over the other 'Mech's back. The three pulse lasers then poured scarlet needles of pulsed laser energy into the heart of the Man O 'War.The lasers shattered the gyro casings, spitting bits and pieces of them out through the gaping wound in the 'Mech's back.

Stabilizing the giant war machines was simply not possible without the gyros, even with the direct feed from Conal's neurohelmet. The Man O'Warlanded in a cloud of dust, its limbs smashing against the ground and disintegrating, leaving the downed 'Mech broken and helpless.

* * *

Nelson Geist realized that he had dropped the radio when he heard it shatter on the ground. He smiled, then leaned back against the desk, chiding himself for being so clumsy. He continued to stare at the black plastic and bright transistors, even though it was painful to have his head in that awkward position. He knew the pain would not last much longer and he told himself that staring at a broken radio was much better than having the last thing he ever saw be the Red Corsair.