Текст книги "Bloodname"

Автор книги: Роберт Торстон

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

It had to be operable, for the Mad Dogwas lumbering slowly but steadily toward it.

* * *

Aidan did not cease his onslaught as he closed with the Summoner.He spent his remaining Thunder LRMs, but the Dire Wolfpilot merely steered his ponderous machine around the bomblets they dropped. Aidan recognized that the pilot of this 'Mech was a conventional warrior, the kind who plods on and usually wins through sheer endurance and determination. That is, until he or she runs into a particularly daring or foolish opponent. Aidan knew he qualified in one of the latter categories, but was not sure which.

The Dire Wolfpilot, to avoid the heat buildup of its massively augmented weaponry, was firing only two of its large lasers at a time as he slowly moved to close the range. As for Aidan, he had no intention of overheating his machine in a long-range duel, and to trade blows at close range was suicidal. It was time to test fate once again.

Turning directly toward the Dire Wolf,Aidan brought his machine up to full running speed. As the distance closed, he watched his secondary screen.

600 meters.

400 meters.

Seeing Aidan moving directly toward him, the Dire Wolfpilot stopped, heat visibly venting from the 'Mech's legs and back.

350 meters.

200 meters.

The arms of the Dire Wolfcame up and pointed directly at the charging Summoner.As the eight arm-mounted lasers were brought up to full charge, static discharges crackled across their muzzles.

175 meters.

150 meters.

Raw energy leapt from the Dire Wolf'sextended arms as Aidan slapped the jump switch. Up over the deadly fire, Aidan's Summonerrose. The arms of the Dire Wolftried to track the airborne target for a second shot, but it was too late. Seventy ugly tons of BattleMech landed feet first onto the cockpit of the Dire Wolf.

As Aidan worked his 'Mech free from the wreckage, the rhyme kept running through his head: "Four little BattleMechs, sliding down the scree. One ate a Summoner,and then there were three."

* * *

Aidan could not, for a moment, decide which way to go. Coming fast toward the fray were the two 'Mechs that had not yet played any significant part in the battle, a Warhawkand a Summoner.Nearby was Joanna, holding her own against the Gargoyle,though she could probably use help by now. And Ter Roshak was half-down, his 'Mech looking almost numb as the Mad Dogapproached.

What good was life without choices, Aidan wondered.

* * *

Ter Roshak was indeed numb. Not only had he reached the end of his rope as an effective warrior, but he had no feeling in his legs. There was no wound there, no way any shot from the Mad Dogcould have reached his legs. Perhaps the numbness was from sitting too long in his pilot seat, the stiffness just one more sign of age.

The battle had taken too much out of him, so apparently they were right about the uselessness of old warriors. He never wanted to admit his age to himself, but this test had brought out his infirmity only too well. He was old. He deserved to die. Why could not this Mad Dogfire the shot that would finish him off once and for all?

He closed his eyes, waiting for the final moment. He would not eject, he knew that. Then his eyes shot open again. That was neither the way of the Clans nor the way of a good warrior. If he was to meet death, it must be with his eyes open.

Aidan did not know whether it was wise to tackle the Mad Dogcoming at Ter Roshak. His 'Mech's legs were damaged from the jump onto the Dire Wolf.It looked like his engine shielding had taken a hit, too, for he could not move at full speed. Lastly, his long-range ammo was depleted, leaving him only the short-range missiles and autocannon.

Coming at the Mad Dogfrom the side, in a tactic sometimes known as blindsiding, Aidan fired off a cluster round from his LB 10-X, grateful for its greater range as it did considerable destruction to the heavy 'Mech's left side. The autocannon would normally have been no more than the sting of an insect, but Roshak had already created deep lines of damage in the machine of his relentless opponent. A sheet of flame erupted from one of them, shooting out like a flamethrower.

The Mad Dogcame to an abrupt stop, the pilot apparently dealing with whatever had caused the sudden fire. For a moment, Aidan drew a blank. He did not know what to do. The pilot of this 'Mech would regain control of his machine and return to the battle. The two oncoming 'Mechs would arrive. Joanna's battle would end in victory or defeat. There were too many factors and insufficient solutions.

He wanted to curse, but the only one strong enough among Clan Warriors was "freebirth," and his experience among freeborns had removed that oath from his vocabulary. The way this Trial of Refusal was working out seemed unfair. They had, the three of them, started out against nine. Already they had defeated five.Five was an impressive number, but in a Trial of Refusal, the challengers could win only by defeating every one of their opponents. They had come close, but that was not enough.

And his chance to win a Bloodname was riding on this Trial.

Gritting his teeth, he rejected the odds and went after the Mad Dog.Firing his LB 10-X rapidly, he was surprised to make another strong hit as the Mad Dog's right arm dropped. Aidan had hit something there, perhaps just the right clump of myomer tendons, that had disabled the arm. The Mad Dog,looking as wild as its name, rotated on its torso to face Aidan.

"Be careful, Aidan," came Joanna's voice over the commlink, "this is one time not to give the battle all you have. Your 'Mech looks like the only things holding it together are spit and wishes. Do a feint, something. I am on my way."

"What happened to the Gargoyle?"

"What do you think? It is finished. And if you have not noticed yet, the odds are now even, three against three. Of course, two of those are just entering the battle without having used up much firepower or energy."

Aidan had forgotten the childhood rhyme again until now. He had been making it up for the last couple of verses, anyway. "Three little BattleMechs, none of them new. One lost its nuts and bolts, and then there were two." If only he could concoct weapons instead of verses. One might be able to slay dragons with metaphors, but a BattleMech was another matter entirely.

* * *

Ter Roshak wished now he had not disabled his communications systems. He wanted desperately to coordinate the rest of the battle, but could not. Perhaps this was another sign of advancing age.

Ever since his 'Mech had dropped to its knees, he had been looking at things from a skewered viewpoint. Everything outside the 'Mech seemed at an angle. Although he knew that the two BattleMechs he could see were upright, they appeared to lean to their right on a sloping landscape.

The Mad Dogwas about to finish off the Summoner,Roshak could see that. Had the Summonerbeen fresh, it would have been another matter. The Mad Dogwas severely damaged, both from its battle with Ter Roshak and from its present conflict with Aidan. No matter what type of 'Mech it was, it could be beaten.

On his secondary screen, now being used to get an overhead view of the 'Mechs left in the field, Roshak saw the advancing opponents as well as Joanna's 'Mech reentering the fray, although a distance away.

Having rotated toward the Summoner,the Mad Dogrocked it with a hit from its remaining Gauss cannon. A glow from inside the cockpit of the Summonerindicated to the experienced Ter Roshak that the engine shielding had been breached and waste heat from the fusion fires powering the 'Mech was being dumped into its interior. Perhaps that was why Aidan seemed to be moving back from the fight. Too much damage, combined with too much heat to risk an ammo explosion.

* * *

Well, at least the Mad Doghad given up on Roshak and his Nova.He wondered if he would ever pilot a Novaagain. It had been the wrong choice. He had desired its maneuverability, but had ended up needing more power. Of course at that time he had not cared whether he won. Still, in a battle of three-to-one odds, the Novawas a nearly suicidal choice. Its maneuverability had only prolonged his meaningless survival. When the Mad Dogreturned its attention to him, it would take only one solid hit to topple him.

Then, he realized suddenly, there was no reason for him to make a final stand. What did he have left? He had spent all his missiles. The left-torso laser was destroyed. Only the left-arm medium lasers remained. They could erode some of the other 'Mech's open gashes, but that was about all. It was what he had, though, and a good warrior always fought with what was at hand. He activated all six medium lasers, directing four of them toward various slashes and gouges in the Mad Dog'sarmor, the other two toward the Gauss cannon that was the 'Mech's left arm. Because the Summonerhad disabled the 'Mech's right arm, the hope of ruining the other one was too tempting to resist.

Suddenly the Mad Dogwas taking fire from two directions. When it swung its arm toward the Nova,blasting it with its autocannon, Ter Roshak felt his 'Mech sway and threaten to fall. The Mad Dogmight have fired again and put the Novaout of its misery, but Aidan ripped off a large chunk of armor with a fusillade from his LB 10-X, diverting the pilot's attention back to his Summoner.

On his primary screen, enlarged for a closer view, Roshak saw the two untouched BattleMechs within range. The Warhawksent Aidan's Summonerinto a half-spin with pulses from its extended-range PPC, but Roshak kept the Mad Dogfrom going in for the kill with his fusillade. The heavy 'Mech had to turn its attention back to Roshak.

As Roshak steadied himself for the final shot, he lightly touched the lever of the ejection seat that he had vowed not to use even if it meant being charred to a crisp in the cockpit.

But suddenly the Mad Dogexploded. A flight of missiles glided in to demolish it with a direct hit. They had come from behind Roshak and could only have been launched from Joanna's 'Mech. If the Mad Dogpilot survived, which was unlikely, he or she would undoubtedly complain about being caught in a roughly triangular attack by the three defendants.

Then Roshak's 'Mech shifted abruptly, and he felt it drop further. Something, perhaps an unnoticed hit, had made the other leg go down. Now, he realized angrily, there was little more he could do in this Trial of Refusal that he had demanded for his own honor. Worse, not only was the battle up to Aidan and Joanna, but he was in a 'Mech that was kneeling in the center of a battlefield as if in prayer. What an absurd sight we must be, Roshak thought, my 'Mech and I!

* * *

"Two little BattleMechs, coming at a run. One chewed the grass, and then there was one." Joanna's grunt of disgust told Aidan that he had inadvertently communicated his verse over the commlink.

"Consider," Joanna said. "The odds are now in our favor. Three to two."

"Joanna, Ter Roshak's BattleMech is not moving, nor can it stand. You are stretching a point with your three-to-two odds."

"Perhaps. But technically Ter Roshak is not yet defeated. I agree it will only take a push from a baby's finger to send him flat, but he is still upright, and upright counts. But at least we have evened up on the odds."

Another hit from the Warhawk'sER-PPC sent tremors through Aidan's cockpit. The truth was dawning on even his stubborn brain that he could not defeat this massive and efficient machine.

He might do better to surrender. The council had not formally invoked the death penalty when announcing their decision. Perhaps they might simply send him to a lower caste. No, damn it, that would not be better. It would be the worst thing imaginable. He had to go on. Better to die than to capitulate, especially at this point.

* * *

Joanna was suddenly hit by missiles from the enemy Summoner.Five explosions flashed on her 'Mech.

"I have not got much left, Aidan."

"I know. Do not even bother with more than a desultory response to the Summoner.I will take care of that one at the right time. The Warhawkis our concern now, and we will take it together."

"I do not see how."

"But I think I do, and there is no time to explain it. Star Captain Joanna, rush the Warhawk.Use the rest of your ammo, missiles, whatever you have, as you go. Take its attention away from me."

"I do not have the firepower to win against a Warhawk,particularly one that has barely been in the battle and is fully charged, ammoed, and racked."

"Do not argue logic with me, Joanna. Just do it."

"I will be wiped out."

"Exactly. Keep your hand on your ejection lever, and when I tell you to eject, eject. Go."

"Aidan, if this—"

"GO!"

Joanna, mumbling to herself, started her Mad Dogtoward the formidable Warhawk.As ordered, she was firing everything. Her hands manipulated her joysticks madly. Only a few of her shots hit the mark, and then causing only minimal damage. The Warhawkpilot must have thought he was being attacked by a warrior gone berserk.

Getting closer, she took hit after hit to her torso, her limbs. But she came on. Her 'Mech's left knee was nearly shattered, but Joanna managed to keep the Mad Dogupright, and she came on. Armor fell off her 'Mech's chest like feathers off a molting bird. Her heat buildup was reaching the dangerous levels. And she came on.

"Aidan, I am close now. I am almost out of—"

"Closer."

She pushed her 'Mech on, feeling it limp and stagger beneath her. More armor flew off.

"Aidan, there is no more I can do. My weapons—"

"Keep on going. Get closer."

"Damn it, I am practically on top of him now."

"Just a few meters now. A few more. Almost there."

The pilot of the Warhawkwas just toying with her now. He knew the win was a sure thing. That was the way a warrior always felt when an opponent was no longer offering a response and becoming a closer target by the second.

"Aidan, the heat buildup is too much. I am getting dizzy. I have to—"

"Two more seconds. Keep going. Going. Good. Now, Joanna, now. Eject!"

She did not have to be told twice. She was in the ejection seat and flying over the head of the Warhawkpilot almost immediately.

At the same time, Aidan launched his six short-range missiles. The Mad Dogwas beginning to fall slowly forward now. It was between Aidan's Summonerand the Warhawk.Just where he wanted it to be. If the Warhawkhad an anti-missile system, the Mad Dogwould be in the way. That did not matter, really. The missiles were not targeted for the Warhawk.They were aimed directly at the middle of the Mad Dog'sback. The overheated, coolant-churning, tottering Mad Dog.

Joanna's BattleMech exploded in a fine mushroomlike blast, for a moment obscuring the Warhawk.

The blast, with its fierce explosion, massive shrapnel, and forward-falling 'Mech, knocked the Warhawkoff its feet, incidentally destroying its cockpit and piercing the neck and head of the pilot.

The Warhawkand the Mad Dogbecame an instant tangled, smoking mess. The techs would be weeks sorting out which part belonged to which 'Mech.

In the distance, Aidan saw Joanna's ejection seat settle almost gently onto the ground. She undid its straps and got out of it violently. It was obvious she was all right. He could turn his attention to the remaining BattleMech, the Summoner.

It stood, quiescent, a few hundred meters away, most of its weapons still fully loaded and charged. Its pilot had not yet engaged in much fighting, and the 'Mech had almost no surface damage. The odds were definitely against Aidan.

But what were odds? he thought. They had started as three BattleMechs against nine. Now there was just a one-against-one contest to settle.

Aidan had no worries now. He had piloted Summonerduring most of his career as a warrior. In his trial he had qualified in a Summoner.He knew every move that was possible with this type of 'Mech. No pilot on this planet, or even in the entire globular cluster of Clan worlds, could out-fight him in a Summoner.

Ready to engage in battle, he started toward the opposing BattleMech. If he had been the type of warrior who permitted himself a laugh just before victory, Aidan would have been laughing hard right now.

Heading toward victory, he sang softly to himself, "One little BattleMech, with nowhere else to run ..."

29

As the three victors joined one another next to Aidan's 'Mech at the center of the field, dumbfounded Jade Falcon warriors walked around the scene, surveying the damage. They had been judges and observers during the Trial. By the looks on their faces, they did not comprehend that a trio of discredited warriors could do so much havoc. BattleMechs and pieces of them lay all over the field, smoke rising from scarred chunks, little fires still going here and there, mixed odors of burning liquids and charred metal drifting on the air. Survivors of the contest sat by their 'Mechs and stared ahead, trying to analyze what they had done wrong. Those who had not survived were being carried off the field by medical techs.

Roshak was the last one to join the trio. He climbed laboriously out of his ruined Nova.

Aidan stared silently at Ter Roshak. The man looked weary and seemed to have aged another year or two since two days before in the council.

Returning Aidan's stare, the other man said, "If you do not wish to talk to me, Star Commander Aidan, I can understand why."

Aidan continued his scrutiny a moment longer, then said, "No, I do not mind talking with you, Ter Roshak. I would hope, though, that it will not happen too often."

"You wanted to be a warrior. I provided you that."

"That is true, but it does not require that I become your emotional bondsman for giving me the chance. We had it all out once before, and our testimonies only made me more aware of the price I have paid to be a warrior."

"Take it back then. Certain Jade Falcon warriors would be delighted to see you gone from their ranks."

"No, I have earned my status and my rank. Let us not continue this conversation. I wish to thank you for your actions in effecting our victory today."

"I should be thanking you. You have both reversed a harmful judgment against me."

"And ourselves," Joanna interjected.

"Nevertheless, my life would have been over, ended in a dishonorable manner. I may not be able to restore my honor even now, but winning this Trial of Refusal goes a long way toward validating my actions."

As the three of them fell silent, Aidan saw several warriors who had been inspecting the battlefield send hateful glances his way.

"Well, Star Commander Aidan," Joanna said, returning to Clan warrior formality of address, "what now?"

"Tomorrow is the Grand Melee for the thirty-second slot in the Bloodname competition. I will compete."

Joanna nodded. "I admire your willingness to enter the melee, but I must say that, no matter what your abilities, the Grand Melee champion is not necessarily the best warrior of those who go into the field. Winning the melee is more a matter of survival than skill."

"I seem to have some abilities along those lines."

Joanna's eyebrows raised. "Granted. Just remember, you can be demolishing an opponent with all the best moves you have and some other idiot with no skills can sneak up behind and lay the both of you out with a single salvo. There is no military or even common-sense logic to it. Anything can happen in a melee."

"Which makes it something like today," Aidan responded, pointing to the debris on the battlefield. "This may have been a good practice run for me."

"After today's fight, you will be exhausted."

"I have no choice. They are not going to postpone the Grand Melee so I can get proper rest. In fact, I do not intend to sleep. They will not let me have a tech to help get this 'Mech back in shape, and it is going to need everything—repairs, reload, the works."

"Nomad is here on Ironhold. His arm is better, if a bit stiff. He will help."

Aidan was astonished at Joanna's offer.

"Do not interpret the act as friendship," she said quickly. "I despise you and what has brought you to this point as much as ever. Perhaps even more because you were willing to pose as a filthy freebirth. But you fought well today, and I probably owe my life to you. It is a debt I would like to settle quickly. I will send Nomad here as soon as I can locate him."

Aidan refrained from thanking her, knowing that gratitude would irritate and insult her.

"You will need people to help you in other ways, an entourage. We will work out strategies. Perhaps you can persuade one or two others to join us."

"Horse. I would like Horse."

"That freebirth filth!"

"Yes. Does that bother you?"

Joanna seemed about to say yes, but then thought better of it. "If it is Horse you want, then Horse it shall be. My name is already dishonored. Serving on a Bloodname entourage with a freebirth cannot soil it much more. Somehow it even seems appropriate."

"But from now on, you must not call him a freebirth until I either succeed or am eliminated."

Joanna scowled. "You are a strange person, Star Commander Aidan. A trueborn warrior who is an advocate of freeborns. That combination should be enough to hold you back for the rest of your career, no matter what happens during the Trial of Bloodright. But I accede. I will not call MechWarrior Horse a freebirth to his or your face. How I speak elsewhere is another matter."

"Well bargained and done."

"I did not realize we were bidding, but, yes, I see what you mean. So, how do we complete your entourage? I cannot think of anyone else who can help."

They both glanced down at Ter Roshak, who immediately began to shake his head. "You do not want me. I would hurt rather than help your cause. Better to find someone else."

"Perhaps I can help," came a voice from behind them, one that both of them recognized as Marthe, now Marthe Pryde, Star Captain Marthe Pryde. Joanna and Aidan both turned around, as did Ter Roshak, to see her standing a few steps away. She had apparently been observing them for some time.

Aidan did not know whether to run up and embrace her, or to maintain the same aloofness she seemed to reserve for him. But he did not have to ponder the matter for long. Marthe came forward with her hand extended, fingers splayed in position for the Jade Falcon handshake. Performing the ritual handshake meant more to Aidan than any embrace could have.

"Star Captain—," he started to say, but Marthe interrupted.

"I drop the formalities with all my warriors out in the field, and they may address me as Marthe. Sometimes it helps our performance as a unit. Given that we three shared some of our earlier days, it would be appropriate among us. Do you not agree, Joanna?"

"At this point, Marthe, I am not certain of anything I once held true. I will call you Marthe. At least away from warrior gatherings."

"Fair enough. Now, what of my offer, Aidan? I can advise you well. I am of the House Pryde line, after all. What I am not able to do is sponsor you, however. The only way you can gain respectability is through the melee for the thirty-second open slot. As I am a holder of the Pryde Bloodname, I have already had my chance to nominate. Unfortunately for my candidate, she was killed in a training accident, and her opponent draws a bye in the round of the thirty-two. But I am free to advise you without interfering with other duties."

"What can you offer him that others cannot?" Joanna asked.

"Well questioned, Joanna. I can offer Aidan information about his opponents, for I know many of them. As a member of House Pryde, I have analyzed the accomplishments and potential of some candidates. And I can find out about others."

"But why, Marthe?" Aidan said. "Why would you do this? You did not seem sentimental about the past the last time we met."

"I remember our days in the sibko better than you imagine. But no, my purpose here is not related to some unhealthy nostalgia. I studied your case before coming to Ironhold for the Grand Council, and I was present at every session. I requested to be an official observer at this Trial of Refusal. I have come to believe that Ter Roshak was right about you, that you are a fine warrior, one to be valued. As a praiseworthy warrior, you deserve your chance at a Bloodname. I do not know if you are the best who will compete for this House Pryde heritage, but you may be."

"Will not others criticize you for lending support to a warrior who has only recently been condemned in council, which he challenged with a Trial of Refusal?"

"Perhaps, but I am allowed, particularly because my own nominee is gone. And remember, you won the Trial, perhaps earning respect in some quarters. At any rate, you must now get your BattleMech to a repair bay and ready it for the melee."

Marthe turned and began to walk away, her stride showing a military precision. Suddenly Aidan broke into a run and went after her.

"Marthe, do you have some other reason for helping me?"

She looked at him with her cool, even gaze. "In a way, yes. I was shocked to learn that you had been a warrior these past few years, when all along I believed you had flushed out of training. After the shock, I was glad. There is much . . . well, unfinished business between us. I wanted to see you again, so I came to Ironhold. Perhaps it has to do with the sibko ... I do not know. We will talk again tomorrow before the melee."

Again she turned and resumed her brisk stride away from him. By now Joanna had come up alongside. "Things are not steady, Aidan. I am less sure of everything than I used to be. I do not like that."