Текст книги "Wolves On The Border"

Автор книги: Robert N. Charette

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Текущая страница: 28 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

56

Dragoon Base, Farsund, Misery

Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine

27 May 3028

 

Michi was leaving Minobu's room when Wolf arrived in full-dress uniform, its resplendence a sharp contrast to the mercenary's haggard face. Michi was exhausted as well, but his own uniform, though clean and freshly pressed, did little to disguise the fact. The House Kurita badges had been removed, and he wore a red armband with a black wolf's head to mark his release from captivity. Even though his right arm was still in the sling, a holstered laser pistol rode on his right hip. He bowed to the mercenary Colonel.

“Ohayo,Colonel.”

“Good morning, Michi.”

“I wish to thank you for my parole, Colonel. You are generous to a former enemy.”

“Former is the operative word, Michi.” Wolf nodded his head at the closed door. “Is he in there?”

“Yes, Colonel. He is waiting for you.”

Michi stepped aside and bowed again. Wolf opened the door and entered the room. Michi closed the door behind him.

Seated in lotus position on the bed was Minobu. From somewhere in the nearby city, Michi had acquired the shimmering white silk kimono that he now wore. It shone against his dark skin. His eyes were closed, his face calm, relaxed.

Minobu opened his eyes as Wolf stepped into the room.

“You wanted to see me,” Wolf said.

“Thank you for coming.”

With a wave, Minobu indicated that Wolf should sit in the chair at the bed's end. Wolf ignored the gesture and remained standing.

“Have you changed your mind?” Wolf asked.

“No.”

Minobu raised his hand again to forestall Wolf's objections. “Please, do not argue. There is nothing that you can say to change my mind.

“The points at which this fate might have been averted have come and gone. The road opened when Akuma began his campaign to tie the Dragoons to the Combine. The last chance was lost on your trip to Luthien. After Samsonov received Lord Kurita's haiku,the path to disaster was inevitable.

“It is curious that many links in the chain of events took place in the autumn, for that is the season of changes, is it not?” Minobu paused, not really expecting an answer. Wistfully, he continued, “I had always liked the season of change.”

Minobu could tell that Wolf wanted to say something, but he cut the mercenary off. “I have a favor to ask of you,” Minobu said.

“Name it and it's yours.”

“You agree before knowing what it is?” Minobu gave Wolf a look of mock surprise. “That is not the suspicious Jaime Wolf I have known for years.”

“You would not ask anything that I could not do,” Wolf said with perfect assurance.

Minobu looked up into the gray eyes of the friend who stood before him. His inner senses agreed with what his heart and eyes told him. “You truly believe that.”

“I do.”

“Very well.” As Minobu unwound his legs to stand up, Wolf backed up to give him room in the small space. Minobu adjusted the kimono into place, and bowed deeply to Wolf. “There is a formal position in the ceremony that I wish a trusted friend to hold.” Minobu paused for a moment. “I ask that you serve as kaishaku-ninfor the ceremony.”

“All right.”

Wolf's quick answer made Minobu wonder if he understood the request, but he did not wish to discuss it. All he said was, “Thank you,” and bowed again to Wolf.

“It is time,” Minobu said. “Michi will have everything ready. Let us go. Even I do not have iron resolve in all things.”

Minobu opened the door for Wolf. Outside, Dechan Fraser and Hamilton Atwyl, also resplendent in Dragoon dress uniform, waited. As Wolf and Minobu started down the hall, they fell in behind. Minobu had worked with them during his time as Professional Soldiery Liaison and was mildly curious about how they had come to be the honor guards. A minor mystery, he decided, to take with him into the dark.

The small group walked down the corridor to the lounge in silence. Michi was waiting for them at the doorway. Beyond Michi, Minobu could see that the room had been arranged as well as could be expected. It was, in fact, remarkable that Michi had been able to acquire so many of the articles necessary for a proper ritual. Misery was a barren frontier world, little concerned with courtly proprieties.

Straw futonmats covered the room, in the center of which lay a large white cushion. To the left of the cushion was a tray bearing rice paper, a brush, and an ink block. Behind the cushion and to the right, Minobu could see a wooden bucket, with a small dipper lying across its mouth. Next to the bucket stood a lacquered sword stand. His katanalay sheathed on the upper hooks. The lower hooks held his empty wakizashiscabbard. Dragoons, quietly conversing among themselves, knelt on the floor. They formed an aisle between the door and the Futon-covered area.

Minobu recognized all of the faces. He was impressed that the regimental commanders were all in attendance. Other important Dragoon officers were present as well, Natasha Kerensky among them. He was honored by the presence of such notable warriors.

Minobu stopped five meters from the door and let Wolf go on. The mercenary stepped up to Michi and said quietly,

“He has asked me to serve as kaishaku-nin.Where do I stand?”

“Next to the water bucket. You will be slightly behind him, to his left. Kneel there until it is time.” Michi noted that Wolf showed none of the tension he would have expected. Suspecting that Wolf did not understand the nature of the kaishaku-nin,he asked, “Are you well-versed in the sword?”

“What's that got to do with it?”

“The kaishaku-ninstrikes off the head of the principal before the pain grows so great that he shames himself.” Wolf's eyes went wide. “You did not know?”

“No!”

Michi lowered his head. “I understand. I shall serve then.” Wolf grabbed his arm.

“No. He asked me. I'll do it,” Wolf ground out. “Is that the sword I'm supposed to use up there?”

Michi looked Wolf full in the eye, gauging his emotional state. “If you strike poorly, you will shame yourself and his memory.”

“What choice do I have? I'll do my best.”

“In unusual circumstances, the kaishaku-ninis permitted other weapons,” Michi said. “Like what?”

“A pistol.”

“At least that's something I know how to use.”

Wolf started into the room, but Michi stepped into his way. The Kuritan fumbled at his holster with his left hand. “Please, Colonel Wolf, use mine. Allow me to share in the honor.”

Wolf took the offered laser pistol and walked to his place. The assembled Dragoons fell into silence as their Colonel entered the room.

Minobu waited until Wolf was settled. He stepped through the doorway, and bowed to the gathering. Calmly, looking neither left nor right, he walked to the cushion and knelt facing the door.

He sat quietly for a minute, composing his thoughts. Settled into a state of peace, he reached to his right, picked up the tray, and placed it before him. With great care, he mixed

the ink and dipped the brush in it. For an instant, his hand poised motionless above the paper, then it began to move, creating kanjicharacters in short, precise strokes. Speaking clearly, he spoke the words he wrote:

War bares a sword's steel.

Autumn leaves reflect color,

A samurai's blood.

He laid the brush across the ink dish and returned the tray to its former position. Sinking back into his kneeling position, he waited as Michi approached up the aisle formed by the Dragoons.

Michi carried a white lacquered tray, balanced carefully in his good hand. On it were a ceramic drinking dish and a small flask of sake. Michi knelt and placed the tray before Minobu. They bowed to one another.

Minobu took the flask in his left hand and filled the dish in two pours. He returned the flask precisely to its place. Raising the dish to his lips, he took two sips. After a pause, he drained it in two more sips and returned the dish to the tray.

Michi bowed and removed the tray to the back of the room.

Minobu knelt quietly, a great calm reigning within. One minute stretched into two, then three. At last, he spoke.

“I, and I alone, am accountable for the unfortunate losses among those for whom I was responsible. For this failure, I disembowel myself. I beg all of you present here to do me the honor of witnessing the act.”

Minobu bowed to the assembled Dragoons. Their faces showed reactions ranging from disgust to dignified concern to vengeful satisfaction. Through the insulation of his detachment, Minobu noted that only Kerensky remained as dispassionate as he.

As Minobu straightened from the bow, he shrugged his torso free of his upper garments. He tucked the sleeves of his kimono under his knees. Naked to the waist, he waited, hands resting lightly on his thighs. His face was expressionless.

Michi again approached, bearing another white lacquered tray. This time Minobu's wakizashilay on the shining surface. The sword was closely wrapped with rice paper, which was tied at three points with a red cord. Only three centimeters of the blade's shining steel was visible at one end. At the other, the lacquered wood handle was bare, showing the Tetsuhara family mon.

Carefully, he knelt and placed the tray in front of Minobu. The sword lay with its edge toward Minobu, pointing to his left. Michi bowed, rose, and walked around to Minobu's right. He crossed behind his sensei.Stopping slightly behind Wolf, he knelt next to the Dragoon.

“Jumonji,”Minobu said in a low voice that did not reach beyond the two men kneeling behind him.

Michi leaned over to Wolf and whispered, “He asked you to wait until he has made the second, crosswise cut.”

Wolf's nostrils went wide as he sucked in air, but he nodded slightly to confirm his understanding.

In a deliberate motion, Minobu reached out a steady hand and took the sword that lay before him. He looked down at it. In its shining surface, he saw reflections of all that had made his life worthwhile. Its shine was the sheen of his honor.

He turned the point toward his abdomen and focused his ki.

He stabbed the sword deeply into his flesh, on the left side below his navel. He drew it slowly across to the right. Turning the sword in the wound, he cut upward toward his heart.

He felt no pain. His kiliberated him from that. There was a small click behind him to the left.

Oblivion.

Wolf's nostrils stung from the sour scent of bile and singed hair. Tears blurred his vision as he knelt to free the short sword from Minobu's limp hands. He shoved the bloody blade into its scabbard and picked up Minobu's long sword as well.

“What are you doing, Colonel?” Michi asked, appalled by the lack of respect shown to the sword. “The swords must go to his family.”

“Don't worry, Michi. They will. I only want to arrange for a suitable messenger.”

Epilogue

ComStar First Circuit Compound

Hilton Head Island, North America, Terra

17 August 3028

 

“You are most welcome here, Colonel Wolf,” Julian Tiepolo almost shouted.

Heads turned to stare at the black-jacketed mercenary. Wolf threw the ComStar Primus a contemptuous glance and returned to scanning the crowd in the room below him. His gaze swept the festive assembly gathered for the occasion of the marriage of Prince Hanse Davion of the Federated Suns to Melissa Steiner, heir to the Archonship of the Lyran Commonwealth. Wolf was a predator searching a flock for his prey.

The mention of the mercenary's name cut through the noise around Takashi Kurita and captured his attention. He turned to look across the room at the short man standing at the top of the stairs. Despite his size, the mercenary's presence suddenly dominated the room.

It was plain that Wolf was agitated. He hefted a meter-long bundle swathed in black and silver-brocaded fabric. The motion made his wolf's-head epaulet glitter with a hard light that matched the look in his eyes. People sidled away from that cold stare.

Wolf's gaze met Takashi's. The Coordinator knew instantly whom the mercenary was seeking.

Wolf started down the stairs in Takashi's direction, the crowd melting away from him. Even the gallant senior officers and officials who surrounded Takashi slipped out of the mercenary's path. All except Yorinaga Kurita.

Takashi read the tension between the two ‘Mech Warriors as they stood face to face. Almost imperceptibly, Wolf nodded. Yorinaga relaxed. Satisfied that Wolf was no physical danger to his cousin, Yorinaga Kurita nodded in return, but held his ground.

Takashi laid a hand on Yorinaga's shoulder, signaling his acceptance of the mercenary's presence with a squeeze. The younger Kurita bowed and stepped back to take a watchful position a few meters away.

Wolf stripped the fabric from his burden. As the paired swords came into view, Yorinaga took a half-step forward. ComStar had forbidden all weapons at the festivities, but somehow Wolf had managed to bring in these. Yorinaga halted when the weapons clattered to the floor at Takashi's feet.

Takashi looked down at the swords. The shorter one had landed atop the longer. A dark reddish stain marred the lacquer on the upper sword's hilt and covered one of the monsymbols. The other symbols were still clear and white against the black background. He recognized the Tetsuhara family crest.

When Takashi raised his eyes toward Wolf, the mercenary launched into fluent and rapid Japanese of a blunt and disrespectful form.

“Those are all that is left of a good man! When you return them to his family, you won't have to lie. You can tell them he stood by his honor till the end. I hope you're satisfied with what you have arranged. You were a fool to force him to this.”

Takashi's face was hard. By sheer force of will, he restrained his anger. He started to speak, but Wolf forged ahead.

“You thought you could do better than Anton Marik, didn't you? Thought you had the answers he missed. You were wrong!

“You certainly spilled more blood. You even cost us more property, but that counts little against the lives you took. We Dragoons set great store by our people. No one touches them and gets away with it. No one!

“It's all been for nothing, you know. You've failed. The Dragoons are clear of the Combine and ready to fight. We have survived both your puny schemes and your overrated military might. We've whipped your Warlord and left him licking his wounds. You really should get a better thug to do your dirty work.”

Wolf paused, his immediate rage spent. The gold braid cord looped under his right armpit trembled with the tension in his body. When Takashi spoke, his voice was calm and even, like one trying to calm a dangerous beast. “You misunderstand, Colonel Wolf. This,” he said, indicating the swords at his feet, “was never my wish. I valued Minobu Tetsuhara.

“Samsonov did not act with my approval. I warned you that others would take independent action ...”

“Save your lies for the gullible,” Wolf snapped. “You've paid a high price and you don't even know the whole of what you've bought. If I thought you were an honorable man, I'd make it personal.

“From this day, the Dragoons are at war with you and your House, Takashi Kurita! If you think you can take us, go ahead and try. We'll see you in ruins. Watch your border!”

Wolf stopped, slightly out of breath.

Takashi could see that Wolf might have run out of words, but that his store of rage was far from emptied. Nothing Takashi could say could change the man's heart. The Coordinator bowed slightly to acknowledge his understanding.

Wolf's nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. He turned his back on the Coordinator and stalked off across the hall, black boots striking hard against the polished surface of inlaid marble.

With a peremptory gesture of his hand, Takashi summoned one of his officials. His face was a mask, only the eyes alive. They never left the retreating back of the mercenary Colonel as he spoke, “I want to know how Wolf got here before I was given word of the result of the fighting on Misery. Find out who is responsible and have him shot.”

The nervous official started to leave, but Takashi stayed him with a lifted finger.

“Also arrange for the delivery of Grieg Samsonov's head. His bungling has cost too much this time.” The official scurried off.

Takashi frowned as he watched Wolf fall into conversation with Morgan Kell. While he pondered the possible subject of the mercenaries' conversation, Yorinaga returned to his side. “Wolf is strong-willed,” he said. “A dangerous man.”

“Yes,” Takashi agreed. He smiled at his cousin. “But then, so am I.”

Across the room, Wolf suddenly looked up to meet Takashi's gaze. In Wolf's steely eyes, Takashi read hatred and defiance, masking a well of pain. No compromise with this man would be possible. The Wolf would not be satisfied until his jaws had closed on the throat of the Dragon.

Glossary

Throughout this book, the Kurita officers are referred to by their ancient Japanese rank names. The equivalent ranks in English are:

Warlord     General of the Army

Tai-sho     General

Sho-sho    Brigadier

Tai-sa      Colonel

Chu-sa     Lieutenant Colonel

Sho-sa     Major

Tai-i         Captain

Chu-i        Lieutenant

List of Abbreviations

CLG

Combat Loss Grouping. A measure of mean time to failure of the combat systems in a BattleMech unit.

DCMS

Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery.

ETA

Estimated Time of Arrival.

HPG

HyperPulse Generator. An interstellar communications device controlled by ComStar.

IFF

Identification: Friend or Foe. IR Infrared.

ISF

Internal Security Force. The Kurita Secret Service, a combination CIA, FBI, and KGB.

LAM

Land-Air 'Mech. A BattleMech that may be modified into an AreoSpace Fighter. The LAM has some of the advantages of each and the disadvantages of both forms.

LOS

Line-of-Sight.

LRM

Long-Range Missiles, indirect-fire missiles with high-explosive warheads.

MAD

Magnetic Anomaly Detector is a system used to detect hidden or camouflaged BattleMechs.

MHQ

Mobile Headquarters. A command vehicle stocked with communications and tactical planning computers.

PPC

The Particle Projector Cannon, a magnetic accelerator firing high-energy proton or ion bolts, is the most effective weapon available to a BattleMech.

PSL

Professional Soldiery Liaison. The branch of the Kurita military responsible for coordinating mercenary units with the regular military.

SRM

Short-Range Missiles, direct-trajectory missiles with high explosive or armor-piercing explosive warheads.

VTOL

Vertical Take-Off ILanding vehicles, including helicopters and other rotary-wing aircraft.