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Wolf Pack
  • Текст добавлен: 21 октября 2016, 17:55

Текст книги "Wolf Pack"


Автор книги: Robert N. Charette



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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

29

Michi Noketsuna had not expected to live. He had thought that his decision to face the Coordinator was fatal, whether he fulfilled his vendetta or not. Then Indrahar and the ISF had intervened and, in electing to attack the ISF Director, Michi believed he had chosen a path to certain death. To awaken in the care of a member of the Physicians of the Dragon Brotherhood was a bizarre twist of fate, a peculiar reward for his chosen course.

Truly, his karmawas strange.

The fact of his survival was a puzzle that he pondered as he drifted in and out of sleep. Once, he thought he heard a doctor whispering to another that Takashi was dead and that Michi had saved him from an assassin. How could both be true? His own recollections were muddled, his constant drowsiness only obscuring things further. Perhaps with time, the mist would lift from his mind.

He slept.

When he was aware again, he considered what he had heard the doctors say. If Takashi was dead, what more reason had Michi to live? The vendetta that had driven him was complete. Takashi was dead. That, he thought with sudden certainty, was true.

But the Coordinator had not died at Michi's hand or in atonement for wrongs done to Minobu-sensei, which left Michi a failure. The tubes and machines the Brotherhood were using to sustain his existence made a mockery of him. His life was over. Why work to sustain a body when the reason for life is gone? His consciousness faded, but he remained tied to his body.

There was no release for him.

Karma.

He woke again.

The room was full of light, far brighter than artificial illumination could make it. It was day. Someone had opened the drapes to let in the sun. And someone was still in the room, standing by the bed.

That person was not wearing the bright yellow of a Brotherhood physician. Though Michi was sure that he knew the man, the tall visitor's face refused to resolve into recognizable features. It was not until the visitor spoke that Michi saw that it was Theodore Kurita, the man who had chained Michi with the bonds of duty, who had demanded, rightfully, that Michi put service to the Combine before any personal desires.

Theodore nodded gravely when he saw that Michi's eyes had focused on him and said, "My father told me of your decision in the dojo."

Michi wanted to tell Theodore to go away and leave him to his search for hell, but his voice would not work. Theodore ignored the feeble sounds.

"He asked me to give you a command again, as a reward for your loyalty to the Combine. The health of the realm was much on his mind. He said that you would make a good warlord. Anywhere but Dieron, he said."

An attempt at a head shake was thwarted by rebellious muscles. Michi's head simply rolled onto its side.

"I think Dieron would be the ideal place," Theodore said.

"No," Michi croaked, finding his voice at last. "Not Dieron. Not anywhere. I never was a politician, just a soldier. Now, I am not even that. There is no place for me in your army."

"You are tired and injured; do not decide hastily. I know what you did, and I remember how we met. You told me then that duty was the most important part of a samurai's life and that the duty to the Combine was the greatest burden a man could bear. That duty never goes away, Michi -kun. The Combine stills needs you, now more than ever. When you are ready, there is a place for you in the Ryuken. The command of Ryuken– ni,if you want it."

"Fraser commands."

"So you remember him? He would be pleased to hear it. Yes, he commands, but I have more need of him elsewhere. The Ryuken will need a commander, and I think you are the best man for the job."

"The Ryuken are the past. It is dead, as I should be."

"You are mistaken." Theodore walked to the window. The late afternoon sun cast his shadow across the bed and spared Michi's eyes from the glare. Staring out the window, Theodore said, "You saved my father's life by preempting those others. It gave him ... a new perspective. He believed he had found an honorable death."

Michi frowned. "I thought I heard a doctor say that he died in his sleep. A weak heart."

Theodore's voice was almost inaudible. "The doctors say what they must say."

"A warrior's death? I remember fighting."

"No. He survived those others. He used your sword to hold them off long enough for the Otomo to arrive. Afterward, he told me what you had said about a samurai's choice. I think that your example is what turned his mind. In the end, he freely chose what others tried to force on him. He thought it wisdom."

The twisted irony of the situation made Michi want to laugh, but the pain in his chest turned his amusement to agony. When the spasm subsided, he said, "He refused such a death when I offered it."

"He never responded well to the younger generation," Theodore said ruefully. He returned to Michi's bedside. "I wish to reward you."

A fleeting burst of strength allowed Michi to rock his head back and forth. "It is inappropriate."

"Because you raised your hand against the House of Kurita?"

"Hai."

"And if I, as head of that House, say that you were ever loyal, as a samurai should be?"

Michi met Theodore's gaze. He felt the strength in the Kanrei's spirit, the power to rule. But Michi had his own strength. "It would not change the truth. I have lived my last lie."

Theodore sighed. Bowing his head, he asked, "Will you become a monk?"

"Perhaps, in time."

They spoke no more for some time. Michi thought he must have slept, but when he was aware again, Theodore was still there, his position unchanged. Michi said, "If you have told me the truth, I have one more duty."

"On Awano?"

Michi shook his head. Awano, the ancestral home of his mentor Minobu, was as closed to him as Luthien and the inner circles of Kurita politics. Tetsuhara– senseihad cursed him from the family estate when Michi had brought him the head of Minobu's chief tormentor Samsonov. The old man had refused the validity of Michi's vendetta to restore the honor of his eldest son, Minobu. The old senseihad cursed him, but there had been a package waiting for Michi at the spaceport. A long slender box. That box now lay in a bank vault on the outskirts of Imperial City. The instructions he had left for its disposition no longer applied.

Theodore interrupted his thoughts. "Where will you go, then?"

"To fulfill my last duty," he said, but he would not elaborate despite the Kanrei's probing. This matter had nothing to do with Theodore, and everything to do with who Michi was and what he had become. Until that duty was done, he would not be free to go onward. "When will the doctors release me?"

"When you are able to travel. I will have a ship waiting for you."

"It is unnecessary."

"For you, but not for me. You will accept that at least."

Theodore's voice was firm, full of his conviction. Michi nodded. They understood each other at last.

30

The Wolf stopped short when he saw the man who stood at the window, back to the door. Even I knew enough to see that the tall man was not the stocky Takashi Kurita, with whom we were to meet. As we entered the room, the man turned to greet us and I recognized Theodore Kurita, Gunji-no-Kanrei of the Combine. He looked tired.

"Colonel Wolf, I am glad to see you."

"Good evening, Kanrei," the Colonel responded guardedly.

Theodore frowned, an uncharacteristically revealing expression from one schooled in Kuritan politics. Something was obviously upsetting him. I wondered if he approved of Jaime Wolf's duel with his father.

"Please take a seat," he said, gesturing to a group of intricately carved chairs near the center of the room. We took seats, but he remained standing. "I regret to inform you that your salutation is obsolete. My father passed on this morning. I am no longer Kanrei, but Coordinator."

Colonel Wolf stiffened, but his voice was steady and calm. "I did not know he was ill."

"It was sudden. The physicians say heart failure."

"Your circumspection suggests that you suspect otherwise."

"You are as perceptive as ever, Colonel Wolf. I am not sure whether you will find the news welcome or not, but I can assure you that my father did not die by treachery."

"I never wished him a dishonorable death."

"But you did wish him dead. Why else would you have accepted his challenge?"

"I came to end the feud."

"Ah yes, the feud." Theodore shook his head sadly. "Will my father's death bring an end to the hostilities between House Kurita and your Dragoons?"

"I came for the duel. It would have been a closure."

"There are many ways to reach an end, Colonel. What good is a vendetta prosecuted against innocents?"

The Wolf smiled grimly. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Your words are for my father, not me. We live in this world, Colonel Wolf. The universe is, now and tomorrow, what we make it." Finally, Theodore sat. He leaned forward, his expression earnest. "Will you not let the past go?"

Expressionless, the Colonel replied, "Too many Dragoons have died at Kurita hands."

"More deaths will not bring them back. Many Kuritans have died at the hands of Dragoons, and I do not hold you accountable. I thought you were offering a reconciliation when you invited me to Outreach."

"I called you, not your father. The Clans had to be stopped."

"And then you came and fought for Luthien. You might have stayed away and let the Clans settle your old debts."

"Hanse Davion invoked our contract with the Federated Commonwealth and forced us to come to Luthien, but I assure you it was against my wishes."

"You did not think it wise to defend Luthien against the invaders?"

"You should have met them in space and fallen back with your ground forces. Benjamin was defensible." The Wolf broke off then, dismissing the strategic considerations with a wave of his hand. "Now that Hanse is dead, I won't be forced into aiding Kurita again. My position remains unchanged."

"You will not help us against the Clans?"

"I won't fight your battles and have Dragoons give their lives for Kuritans. But if you offer no battles, I'll start none. We have no need to meet on the battlefield."

"If we did, you would not have the success you did against my father. My army is not so reckless as his."

"Start the fighting and you'll have more dead to bury than you can count."

Theodore sat back and a strange calm descended on him. "You speak much of death, Colonel. Is it death you seek? There are those who would be happy to arrange it."

"Threats aren't your style, Theodore -san."

"Are they yours?"

"I didn't start this feud," the Wolf responded hotly. Ice to the fire, Theodore said, "But you are willing to finish it." The Wolf nodded.

"I will not stand for a shadow war." Theodore leaned forward again, hig face stern. "If you strike at me, you will reap the whirlwind. There will be no piecemeal attacks, no raids, no unorganized assaults for you to destroy at leisure. Your Dragoons have a permanent home now; they are more vulnerable than ever. Living in Davion's shadow, you must be more aware than ever of the Kuritan reputation for atrocities. Outreach is not so far from Kentares," he said ominously.

The threat was barely veiled, for the name Kentares was infamous. It was on that world that one of Theodore's forebears had perpetrated a massacre that amounted to planetary genocide.

The Wolf's expression hardened. "We Dragoons have dealt with threats to our families before, always harshly." He stared at Theodore for a long moment. "Besides, I don't believe you would start a war with the Clans at your back and the Federated Commonwealth on two sides."

"You are not Davion's people, for all you hide in his shadow. Who will cry for mercenaries when so much can be gained by picking their bones?"

Though Theodore's words were subtle, his meaning was crystal clear. I had seen the reports about the spies who attempted to steal our secrets. I had seen the results of the Capellans' raid. Since first arriving in the Inner Sphere, the Dragoons had fought in turn for each of the Great Houses, and in doing so, we had fought against each one as well. And by hiding our Clan origins, we had lied to the leaders of the Inner Sphere for decades. They could not trust us now, no matter how open we seemed. History has shown that what a Successor Lord does not trust, he considers an enemy. Outreach made a tempting target—so small, compared to the power of the leaders of the Inner Sphere, and so full of technological loot. We knew they envied our resources. History had also shown a distressing tendency for the lords of the Inner Sphere to take what they wanted if they thought they could get away with it. As Theodore implied, the other Great House lords might sit by while he dismembered us, but more likely they would fight each other over the spoils. But that wouldn't help us; once the fighting began, no one would want us working for another. Any one of the Inner Sphere leaders might decide to destroy us first, no doubt hoping to gain the prize of our technologies for his own state.

The Wolf's expression went dark. "Luthien is vulnerable as well."

"You have not the strength to stand before the regiments I can gather here," Theodore said confidently.

"I wouldn't have to." The Wolf leaned forward and bared his teeth. "Do you know what a warship, a realwarship, can do from orbit? If not, go look up your records of the Clan attack against Edo. We came to the Inner Sphere with ships just like those of the Clans, but we have kept them hidden in the Periphery. We wanted no one to know who we were or where we came from, and the ships were too big a clue. Now that we're revealed as wolves, we no longer have need for sheep's clothing. We could bring those ships in; we needn't hide them any longer. The Dragoons have the power to obliterate your capital from orbit. What good are all your BattleMechs against that kind of threat?"

Theodore stood up and stalked away from the chairs. Taking up a position by the window, he turned slowly to face us again. His form was a dark shape against the dying light.

"The dragon might be wounded, but the wolf will die. Your force cannot be so great that you can stand against an entire star empire."

"Maybe not. But we'll bloody whoever tries."

"You would violate the Ares Conventions by using your warships against a planet?"

The Wolf's face remained impassive. "I will defend my people with whatever means I have to hand."

"If you used such ships, you would be outlawed."

"A small price, and one I have paid before." The Colonel settled back in his chair. "Are you willing to call my bluff?"

"Yes."

Theodore's reply brought silence. There was conviction in his voice that could not be denied. The two men stared silently at each another, and I felt cold sweat trickle down my sides. If the Wolf was pushed to implement his threat, I doubted we would leave the palace alive. Theodore would have nothing to lose.

At last the Colonel asked, "Why?"

Drawing himself up, Theodore folded his arms across his chest. "I will see this madness ended. My realm has fought on too many fronts for too long. We have a grave enemy now, one who demands all our attention. That enemy is yours, too, if your talk on Outreach was more than wind." I think he smiled slightly, but I couldn't be sure. "Would Minobu Tetsuhara have denied himself access to half the forces of his enemy merely to soothe dead grief?"

"That was low."

"If it was, I apologize, Colonel Wolf." Theodore bowed. "Your threat to Luthien was unbecoming of a warrior as well."

Slowly, the Colonel stood. He sketched a slight bow.

"We are practical men, Colonel Wolf. We each know that the other will do anything to safeguard his people. I gave up a fifth of my realm to save the rest. At the time, I thought it necessary, but the wheel turns, as it always does. Now the Clans have come and I see that the Combine's sacrifice may have been in vain. The invaders threaten to take the rest of the Combine away from me. If the Combine falls, what then? Will the Federated Commonwealth be able to stop the invaders? Will Marik's Free Worlds League? Will you? Is the tired lure of revenge worth the gamble?"

Jaime Wolf was quiet for a long time. "I will think about what you have said, Theodore -san."

31

Dechan Fraser stopped down the street from the mansion that had been a reward from Theodore Kurita for loyal service. At first he thought his tired eyes were confused, tricked by the evening light. He recognized the mane and beard of gray, the short, compact silhouette. Though he had not worn one in years, he knew the Dragoon dress uniform as well. He could not be mistaken. This unexpected guest waiting by his gate was Colonel Jaime Wolf.

He had heard a rumor that the duel had been postponed, but he never imagined that Wolf would make a visit to Dechan Fraser part of his itinerary. Curious, confused, and not a little angry, Dechan walked up to his former commander. "Looking for someone?"

Wolf turned and glanced up at him. "Dechan, you're looking well."

Ignoring the offered hand, Dechan said, "Receiving visitors in the street is bad manners. Please, come in."

Dechan palmed the lock and, when the door opened, gestured that Wolf should precede him. The Colonel entered and gave his cloak to the servant who appeared, then disappeared just as silently. Dechan led him into the common room where the servants had prepared tea and a tray of small cakes. There was a third cup beside his and Jenette's; the servants had known the visitor was waiting.

"I hope I'm not troubling you," Wolf said in pale imitation of Kuritan politeness. He looked for a chair and, finding none, knelt awkwardly in the Kuritan fashion.

"Do itashimashite,"said Dechan, kneeling too. As he did, he realized how easily he had slipped into the formal role of host and begun speaking in Japanese. The Kurita style had become a part of his own: politeness hiding personal feelings to make all smooth and to save face.

Wolf took Dechan's response as a cue and continued his pleasantries in Japanese. He was quite fluent and his standard remarks sounded more sincere. Dechan poured tea for himself and his guest. They spoke of the weather and Wolf's trip, but a disquiet underlay the formal conversation. Finally Wolf broke off the polite noise and said, "Will Jenette be here soon?"

" Hai. I would have expected her to be here already."

"Good. I wanted to talk to the both of you."

Seemingly satisfied, Wolf said nothing more. Dechan sat in the awkward silence, old pain gnawing at the shield of politeness. He reached for the kettle to refill his cup and misjudged. When his skin touched hot metal, he snatched his hand back. He wanted to suck on the burn, to cool it, but refused to show weakness before this man. Not now. Not after so long. Pent-up frustration burst forth in words.

"Why now? I had expected to hear something when you were last on Luthien."

If Wolf was surprised by the outburst, he didn't show it. Placing his cup carefully on the tray, he said, "We hadn't come to end the feud."

"But you fought for Kurita," Dechan accused.

"We were under contract to Davion."

Dechan shook his head in disbelief. "So a contract was more important than a blood feud."

"A contract is a sworn bond."

"More important than your sworn vow?"

"At the time," Wolf said quietly.

Dechan sneered. "Very convenient."

Wolf took a sip of his tea and returned the cup to the tray. The action placed Dechan's comment at a distance.

"You're not talking about our fighting for Kurita, are you?"

"Yes, I am. But you're right—there ismore to it than that." Wolf waited.

If Wolf was willing to take it, Dechan was ready to give it to him. "Like a lot of Dragoons, I idolized you. I thought you knew all there was to know about the mercenary business. Everyone believed that you were a man of honor. I'd have given my life for you. Hellfire, I did.I gave my life to Kurita to be a good little spy for you. To what end, Jaime Wolf? Are you a man to whom a handful of C-bills outweighs an honorable vow?"

"No one forced you."

"I was on Misery, remember? I saw the Dragoon dead. The sight cut to my soul the way the cold wind of that hellhole never could. I remember. I've heard the voices of the dead every day I stood before the Ryuken trainees, every time I led a Kuritan unit into battle. A lot of people died on Misery and not just Dragoons. Remember the Iron Man?"

"Yes."

"Well, I can't forget him. When we worked with the Ryuken, I admired him. No one could match his dedication, courage, and skill. Except you, or so I thought. On Misery the Dragoons fought the Ryuken and nearly lost. In the end, I fought him and watched him kill my lancemates. I thought it was the proudest day of my life when I brought his Dragondown. I was a kid. I didn't really understand the honor of observing his seppukuceremony, but years of living in his world have taught me. Has the money washed your memories clean of Tetsuhara, too?"

Looking down at his teacup, Wolf said nothing.

"Well?"

Wolf remained silent.

"I thought you were an honorable man."

Fire flashed in Wolf's eyes and his expression hardened. "I acted as I thought best. I was commander."

"Is that your excuse?"

"It's all the reason there is. I thought we needed someone close to Kurita who could warn us."

"But then you beat up everything Takashi sent at you and got a whole world from Davion for your very own. Safe and sound. You didn't need to worry about old safeguards. You didn't have to; you could safely forget them."

"You weren't forgotten. It wasn't safe to communicate."

"Safe?" Dechan chuckled bitterly. "We used your Wolfnet codes, but we stopped getting answers. We were abandoned."

"You weren't."

"Weren't!" Dechan rocked to his feet. He jostled the tray as he rose and his teacup tipped over the edge, shattering on the hardwood floor. "Then why'd you send Lang to Theodore? Jenette and I were supposed to be in his inner circle. Why not tell us to get him to Outreach?"

"There were other considerations. I didn't think it was a good time to expose you. If the leaders of the Inner Sphere didn't agree to work together, we might still have needed you undercover. If Kurita had refused to cooperate, you could have been exposed to danger."

"Might have. Could have. You could have told us what you had in mind instead of letting us stumble along, never hearing from the Dragoons."

"It would have jeopardized you," Wolf said. He began to pick up the pieces of the broken cup.

"And your coming here isn't going to do that?"

"Not anymore." Wolf placed the shards on the tray. "It's not general knowledge yet, but there is something you should know. Takashi Kurita is dead."

Dechan thought of the much-publicized duel. "You killed him?"

With a shake of his head, Wolf said, "The duel never took place."

Takashi dead, and not in a duel with Wolf. It was not an outcome that Dechan had considered. "Then Theodore is Coordinator."

Wolf nodded. "There's no more need for you here."

"No need? I've served Theodore and the Ryuken longer than I did the Dragoons. No Dragoon need, you mean."

Wolf sighed and slowly got to his feet. "I understand."

"Do you?"

"Let me say that I was proud of your service with the Dragoons. I was prouder still when you agreed to go undercover with Kurita. I know what you gave up."

Dechan didn't believe it. "How could you?"

"I left my home once to live a lie. I lived my lie longer than you have yours."

"My apologies. I should have known that the great Jaime Wolf was better at anything I could do."

Wolf looked taken aback. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

Dechan's ready retort was cut off by the slam of a door. Jenette rushed in from the entry, slinging off her uniform jacket as she came.

"Dechan, have you heard? Takashi's dead!"

She faltered as she noticed the visitor. The jacket dropped to the floor and she bowed quickly. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize—Colonel Wolf!"

She snapped to attention and saluted.

"This is informal, Jenette," he said.

Her eyes round with surprise, she asked, "Why are you here?"

Wolf glanced quickly at Dechan, then smiled for her. "I am here to ask you both to come home."

"Home?" Her expression was puzzled.

"Yes. To Outreach. There are places for both of you waiting in the Dragoons."

"There was no place for us at the siege of Luthien," Dechan said, still bitter.

"The times have been changing, and I have altered my view of certain issues since then."

"Oh? A new contract?"

"Dechan?" Unaware of the earlier conversation, Jenette was clearly confused by the harshness in Dechan's tone.

"It's all right, Jenette," Wolf said.

"No, it's not," she said. "He's being rude."

"Fair, by his lights."

"How kind of you," Dechan drawled.

"Dechan!"

"It's all right, Jenette. Dechan and I are not seeing eye to eye," Wolf said, putting a polite face on the disagreement. "I've made the offer, and I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about. I'm just getting in the way. If you want to come home, you can. You'll be welcome. If not, I'll understand. I would appreciate an answer, whatever you decide. The Chieftainis at the palace spaceport and I'll be staying aboard. We lift in a week, after the funeral."

"We'll—"

"We'll give it some thought," Dechan said, restraining Jenette with a hand on her arm. "Meshitsu– kai! Show Colonel Wolf out."

The servant came in a flurry of polite bows. Wolf followed him out of the room. Jenette waited until she heard the outer door close before rounding on her husband. Her face was flushed with anger.

"What was that all about?"

"I don't like being an untrustworthy cog in somebody's deep plans. Wolf said he couldn't trust us to know what was happening on Outreach."

"He didn't," she said in disbelief.

"He did. We gave him our lives and it's all been for nothing. He's just calling us back to ease his conscience."

Frowning, she said, "I'm sure that the Colonel did what he thought was necessary. It's not us that he didn't trust. The ISF has always watched us. A message, or even a messenger, might have been intercepted. Contact wouldn't have been safe."

"There are ways. He's found them before when he thought it was important."

She spun away and faced the wall. "You're overreacting."

"And you're defending him," he said just as harshly. Her back was rigid, full of defiance. He took a deep breath. They had been each other's only true friend for years, but now he saw her pulling away. He remembered all too keenly that she was one of the original Dragoons, a child who had come with them from the Clans. Fearing that her heritage was stronger than the love they shared, he turned away from her. Head hanging, he moved toward the door that led to the inner mansion, but then found himself unwilling to leave the room. He stopped in the doorway. His anger and sense of betrayal urged him on, but his love wouldn't let him walk away. He stood locked in his inner struggle.

He felt her hand tentatively touch his back. When he didn't shrug her off, she slid her arms around him and hugged him close. She was warm and shaking slightly. He felt a drop of wetness on the back of his neck.

"Dechan, I want to go home."

He turned to face her and put his right arm around her. With his left hand he raised her chin until her eyes met his.

"And if I don't want to go?"

"Don't ask me to make that choice."

"You're asking me to make the same sort of choice."

She buried her head in his shoulder and hugged him fiercely. He knew what his decision would be. She was more important to him than anything Wolf or Theodore could offer. They would go.

But hedidn't have to be a Dragoon.


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