Текст книги "Bloodname"

Автор книги: Роберт Торстон

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7

Joanna came to, leaving behind a dream of drowning in murky water. She came to choking, for a moment not sure if the dream was real after all, or if her desperate need for air originated elsewhere. She tried to inhale but got only a trace of air, just enough to make her conscious that her lungs seemed crushed from behind. The left side of her face was pressed against something very hard. It felt like rock. She moved her face slightly, and the substance seemed to abrade her skin like rock. But what was it pressed so hard against the rest of her face? Her next attempt to breathe seemed to get a bit more air, plus the smell of something very wet. Water? No, something else. Something with a familiar, somewhat cloying odor. It was the smell of a battlefield. Blood, it was blood. Was she smelling her own blood, pooled somewhere in the ground nearby? And what was pressing against her? The next breath added an aroma of cloth, very wet cloth.

She tried to move her body. What little movement she could accomplish was painful. A fierce pain ran up and down her back and legs, and the only movement she could manage was a twitch of her left foot. Nothing much happened when she concentrated on her arms. It was as if they had been shot off at the shoulder, like some armless 'Mech. The lack of feeling frightened her, but then came a tingling in her right hand. Knowing that she was at least one-armed brought a bizarre sense of relief.

Another breath. Nothing new. Then, suddenly, by her ear, there was an explosion. At first she thought the sound might be some signal that accompanied death, but no, she was still alive when the next moment arrived. Joanna would have been angry about dying, a whirling tornado of wrath. She intended to die on a battlefield, and that was that. This could not be death.

Just as she felt the warmth of an expired breath on her right cheek and the unmistakable stale odor of carbon dioxide contaminated by some recently ingested and unpleasant food, she abruptly understood her plight. Someone was lying on her, chest against her face, head near hers. Something else pressed down on her body, though she did not know what it was. For the moment, that was all right. At least she had defined something.

Then came another explosion of sound, another moan apparently. Whatever it was, the head shifted, then slid a bit, creating an opening, and air seemed to rush in at Joanna's face. The cloth that had been suffocating her must have been moved along with the body. She took several deep breaths, trying to get as much as she could in case the head shifted again and cut off the air.

The body moved again and her right hand was free. Reaching up and behind her, she felt the muscles in her shoulder erupt with agony. Her fingertips came down on skin, but she could not tell where on the head it was located. Her fingers roamed around, brushing against what felt like a cheekbone and going backward to some hair and an identifiable ear. Twisting her hand unnaturally, straining her wrist, she was able to grab the ear and pull weakly at it. The jerking motion moved the head, and Joanna's own head felt freer. Now her angle was really difficult. Her shoulder throbbed, her wrist threatened to break, but she managed to grab some hair and, tugging at it, somehow made the head slide to her aching shoulder.

She lifted her head from the ground, perhaps a centimeter or two, her neck muscles competing with her shoulder and wrist for pain. She could not open the eye that had been groundside, but that did not matter. She could not make out anything around her with the other one. It was apparently night, and whatever the landscape around them, everything was pitch dark.

With the clearer air came the unmistakable smell of charred matter. Something nearby had burned. But there could be no fire now, for there was no light.

She blinked her open eye several times, but nothing clarified itself for her vision. Settling her head back again to relieve the pain, she considered her situation.

No matter what she did, she could not move her body. Her right arm, pain running up and down it, could be moved, but could not do much. She could use it to move the body on top of her some more, but would have to wait a few minutes until the arm and her shoulder felt better.

No matter what her other physical incapacities, she still had one powerful weapon left in her arsenal. Her voice.

Drawing in a good lungful of air, she held the breath for a moment, then let it out in one massive, earth-shaking scream. It was the scream of the jade falcon, as taught her by a long-forgotten sibparent, back in the days when she was a mewling, spitting child of a sibko. She had been told she reproduced the bird's sound rather well, though it had been years since she had heard one, and then only at a distance.

The head above her was abruptly dislodged. It hit the rocky ground with a thud. "Wha—," said the person. It was a male voice, but she did not recognize it.

"Get up, you," Joanna said. She was distressed at the paltriness of her vocabulary in a crisis situation.

The man slid forward, bumping her head. She ignored the new pain. "I said get up!"

"What? I'll—oh damn damn damn!"

"What is it?"

"My arms. I can't move them."

"Nomad? Is it you?"

"I'll have a committee study the subject. Of course it's me, Joanna."

"Do not address me familiarly."

"Joanna, we are rammed together on a hillside, both of us in bad shape. It's no time for formalities."

"I will put you on report."

"Do what you will. Oh, damn!"

"Why are you so profane?"

"You would let out a few profanities, too, if both your arms were in pain. I can't move them. Therefore, I cannot get up. I can tell by the way my legs are resting at a higher level than my head that we are on a hill. My body is twisted in such a way that I have a steady ache in both sides. I can move my legs, but there seem to be things on either side of them, preventing them from doing anything helpful. That is my report, Star Captain. Your move."

Joanna tested everything in her body that was supposed to move but obtained only infinitesimal responses from them.

"You cannot move your arms, Nomad?"

"I have been trying. One arm is getting numb, but I can get some movement from the other. What's hurting there is my hand. Each time I move the arm, there is a sharp—oohh, there it is again. Okay. Okay. I think if I—I think I can. There. Well, that was something."

"Whatwas something?"

"I am propping myself up on my elbow. I can twist onto my side, but I'm afraid that is about all. Now what?"

"You stupid fool!"

"Insults are not of much use just now, Joanna. Why don't you let off another of those yells or whatever it was?"

"I would strangle you if—"

"If you had the use of your arms."

"I have one arm free. I could do it with that, your neck is so scrawny."

"The way I feel right now, I might rest my neck in your hand and let you do it."

Joanna almost laughed. She had to admit that he had the advantage on her.

"A jade falcon," she said.

"What was that?"

"The yell. I imitated a jade falcon yell."

"Not even close."

"And you would know?"

"Yes. I have heard several."

"Perhaps you were lying too close to my mouth, and the sound was distorted."

"A possibility. Why are we talking about bird calls when we are in such jeopardy?"

"Do you have a way out of this?"

"Not for the moment. Perhaps when daylight comes ..."

"Then it does not matter what we talk about, quineg?"

"I suppose you are right."

"That is it. Avoid the contractions. This time. I can only hear your voice, and only your voice. Do not torture me all night. I think I will try to sleep."

"No!"

She was surprised by the vociferousness of his response.

"Are you the Star Captain here, Nomad? Do you give the orders now?"

"For the moment, yes. I can move a little bit. Apparently you cannot. We do not know what is wrong with you. It may be a concussion or something worse. You must not sleep."

"How will you stop me, idiot?"

"I will tell you stories, Star Captain. It will keep my mind off my own . . . troubles."

"I am too sleepy for stories."

"I know some pretty lively ones, Star Captain. Listen."

Joanna was startled by how bawdy were the tech's stories. It was her first glimpse ever at life below her caste, at least that part of it that warriors never saw. Many of Nomad's yarns, in fact, illustrated lower-caste customs. She was fascinated in spite of herself.

It seemed not long before some light gradually forced its way to them through the canopy of jungle. It was not bright light, but at least they could divide up the world around them into shapes and shadows. Most of the shapes were clearly flora, while most of the shadows hinted at hidden fauna.

"Curious," Joanna said. "This place is very still. I wish I could hold my head up higher. I cannot see much."

"Neither can I. Over there, though, a piece of metal."

"Metal? Part of the DropShip, do you think?"

"Possibly."

"We crashed. But where are the others? Where is the ship? Should it not be nearby? Should we not hear something?"

"I am afraid I do not know, Joanna."

"Please ..."

"Star Captain."

"That is better. I will excuse last night as the offshoot of pain."

"If you wish. To consider your questions, I think we may have been thrown clear. And that is a larger piece of the ship that is holding you down,' I believe. I cannot see well from this angle, but it looks metallic. And charred."

"Can you get it off me?"

"Well, not with my left arm. But maybe. I feel better. Let me see if I can do something about my legs. At least I can look back and see that it is only a couple of rocks obstructing them. It is hard, but I think I can . . . yes, that's it. Excuse me. That is it."

"What have you done?"

"Do not ask. My leg is more maneuverable now. If I can just lift it up here. Yes. Good. Now, this is going to take an effort. Do not say anything humorous for a moment."

"I never speak in a humorous fashion."

"I have noticed that. Okay, now. Here goes." Then came much grunting, along with a couple of screams of pain and a movement Joanna could not see well. Finally, after what seemed like an agonizingly long time, Nomad seemed to rise above her.

"All right. You may speak now, Star Captain. I am, for your information, on my knees. My right arm is better, but it looks like my wrist was smashed. Otherwise, it is quite movable."

"Does it hurt when you move it? The wrist, I mean."

"Well, yes, it does. Severely. But I am to serve, quiaff?"

"Was that sarcasm, Nomad?"

"In this situation, I cannot be sure. Here, let me see what I can do. It will take some time regardless."

There was a shuffling sound as Nomad came forward in a kneeling position. It took him a long while to close the very short distance between them. The act was punctuated by almost-whispered groans. Joanna could tell he was in great pain, but trying not to reveal it in his voice.

"What do you see, Nomad?"

"Well, I have found another part of the DropShip. It is across your torso and upper legs. It is not large, but it is pressing down on you at an angle and that is why you cannot move. I know what I will do."

"What?"

"If I lean in from your left side, I can get my shoulder under part of the piece. I am going to try to lift it. If I can, you can scramble out. Maybe. That is, if you are not hurt too much, and no body part is severely damaged."

"Do not try to cheer me up, Nomad."

Nomad made an odd sound in his throat, but said little during his laborious shuffling moves to her left side. Unable to turn her head that way, all she could do was listen to his labors.

"All right now," he said finally. "I am in position. When you hear a scream that will put your own jade falcon yelp to shame, you begin to crawl uphill as well as you can. Your other arm should be freed first. Get both arms pulling you up the hillside if that is the only way. You are ready, quiaff?"

"Aff. Do it."

He was right about the scream. It was loud, piercing, frightening. It was completely filled with pain.

She began to squirm forward as soon as he began. Her free arm, as he had suggested, was the key. She grabbed a rock and pulled herself a long way along the ground. Then she put both hands underneath her torso, raised her body, and brought her legs up beneath her. Scrambling forward like some sea animal along the edge of shore, she got completely free and yelled back to Nomad to stop lifting.

"I have," he said. "Long ago. You extricated yourself with the first couple of moves. Thank you. I could not have stood much more pain than I did."

"You thanked me. I suppose I have to thank you in a formal way, too."

"Do not bother. Your gratitude might be too disturbing. I might have a seizure or something like it. Are you all right?"

His left arm dangled like a branch that had been hit by lightning. His face was white with illness and pain. Sweat poured off his forehead. He seemed to waver on his knees, looking as if he would pitch forward any minute.

"Here, Nomad. Let me help you."

"It is a shock, but one I will have to accept from you."

"Abandon the sarcasm, Nomad. It is undesirable for a tech, as I have told you often enough."

"Yes, you have."

His eyes were closing. He was obviously going to fall. Joanna, on her knees herself, sprang forward and caught him in her arms. The act started her shoulder and wrist pains going again. But, she realized, what she felt was nothing compared with the pain of Nomad's injuries.

She eased him to the ground, turning his body so that he could lie on his back. He lay prone, his eyes closed.

"I remember now," she said, talking out loud to herself. "Nomad fell on top of me. He must have been protecting me. I wonder why."

"So do I," Nomad said, without opening his eyes.

"Do not talk." After a moment, she said to him, "I will have to give you somecredit. Since sometime last night, you have managed to speak without contractions."

"Yes," he said, then seemed to wait for the proper time before saying, "Didn't I? Wasn't that something?"

8

There was a legend peculiar to the planet Glory. It described the origin of the odors at the heart of Blood Swamp. The story told of a demigod or demon named Cadix who had traveled through the universe collecting bad smells, stuffing them into hermetically sealed sacks and taking them to Blood Swamp. Hovering over the swamp, Cadix released each odor from each sack. Settling to the ground, the smells intermixed, mingling with one another and with the mist that clung to the swamp's surface. A traveler in the swamp could choke on a different smell with each intake of breath. Criminals who fled to the swamp later came out of their own accord to give themselves up. Lovers who slipped into the swamp darkness for illicit liaisons claimed to detect peculiar odors on each other's bodies for weeks afterward. Cadix himself, after releasing the reeking fragrances, dove into the swamp. In one version, he was never heard from again; in another, he was transformed into an unpleasant aroma.

In spite of his Summoner'shermetic seals, necessary when a 'Mech might suddenly be submerged in water, and the supposedly efficient circulation system, Aidan was certain that the spoiled egg and chemical burning smells were not just figments of his imagination.

On the good side, it looked as though Operations had done well in mapping out the route. Aidan had been instructed that at no point would any of the 'Mechs of his Star be under water and that, in fact, when they emerged from Blood Swamp the water would be no more than knee level. Still, as he carefully used the inertial guidance system to move his 'Mech through the misty dark, Aidan could not shake the anticipation that the next step would be into deeper water or, worse, into the mysterious swirling quicksand that legend said lurked in parts of Blood Swamp. Experts said such a quicksand was a fantasy, but the warriors were not sure. So far no record existed of anyone being lost in the swamp, but then warriors only went into it under orders, never voluntarily.

On his monitor screen, Aidan saw something fairly large moving toward his 'Mech. It was too small to be a vehicle but too large to be a human being, unless it was an Elemental. Also, its outline suggested it was moving on all fours. It came close, but none of Aidan's equipment could identify it as a Gloryan animal, so it had to be one of the mysterious creatures that inhabited the swamp. Whatever it was, the thing made a desultory snap at the Summoner'sleg, then slunk away.

The fog was now so thick that, if not for their instrumentation, the 'Mechs would probably have wound up walking circles around each other. As it was, they were proceeding apace, almost as if on normal terrain with good sightlines. Every once in a while, a 'Mech teetered slightly as its heavy foot came down on some thick vegetation or encountered a rocky patch, but all in all, the Star was making good time. They were already halfway into Blood Swamp.

"Star Commander?" It was the voice of Horse coming over the commlink. Aidan always felt comfort in hearing Horse's voice. They had been together so long, ever since the Trial in which both had qualified as warriors. There were times when Aidan would have liked to have Horse always at his side, but Horse was a good warrior and would one day be promoted to Star Commander himself. If not for the heavy discrimination against any freeborn warrior, Horse's achievements would have earned him the promotion by now.

"What is it, Horse?"

"Well, I hate to tell you this, but I am picking up some kind of anomaly ahead. And it is very large, too large to be one of those mythical swamp animals, or else we are about to encounter a monster. From its outline on my radar, I would say it is a BattleMech. If it were not staggering about so much, I would also say I was sure it was a 'Mech. See for yourself."

Horse gave him the coordinates and Aidan keyed in on the intruder. At first look, he saw what Horse meant. The object was most certainly a BattleMech, a Mad Dog,by its thin legs and LRM 20 shoulder launchers. But it was not proceeding with the sureness of a Mad Dog.Apparently its right leg had taken some damage, for it stuck out from its upper-leg mainframe at an odd angle. The angle made it walk sideways in what looked like drunken lurches. Each step sent it a bit off its course, and there was a sense of its pilot trying to correct it.

"Do you think it is friend or foe, Horse?"

"Well, it looks like one of us after a few fusionnaires. I have never heard of the Wolves indulging, so perhaps it is a Jade Falcon pilot and his 'Mech out for a midnight jaunt through Glory's most colorful terrain."

Aiden smiled, not only at Horse's comments, but at the careful way Horse avoided the easy contractions of the freeborn when speaking on the commline. There were times when Horse was all-duty in action and speech, and Aidan appreciated the effort.

"Well, we should be careful, in case it is enemy. With the odds already against us, we must be wary of walking into one of Clan Wolf's well-known traps. Shall you approach them or shall I?"

"You speak so eloquently, we cannot risk you at this time. I win this bid, Star Commander, quiaff?"

"Aff. You fight better in muck than I do, anyway."

"Oh? We must discuss that when there is time."

"When there is time."

Aidan tracked Horse's path as he took his Summonerout ahead of the rest of the Star. Both Horse and Aidan had piloted Summonersever since winning their Trial of Position in the 'Mech. The machines did not have the maneuverability and firepower of any of the OmniMechs Kael Pershaw had co-opted for his Trinary Strikers, but there was a solid, old-fashioned efficiency about them.

When he came close to the staggering Mad Dog,Horse addressed its pilot formally over the open radio channel. "I am MechWarrior Horse of Bravo Star, Trinary First Garrison, Glory Station Cluster. Do I address an honorable warrior from Clan Wolf or Clan Jade Falcon?"

The voice that responded sounded bleary, or perhaps there had been damage to its 'Mech's communication system. "MechWarrior Enrique, from Charlie Star, Hades Surats, Clan Jade Falcon. We, uh, I come with Trinary. Trinary rotating to Glory Station. On DropShip. It crashed. I, uh, I do not know where I am. Is this Glory? Where is Glory Station? I have been wandering ever since my cocoon hit . . . crashed . . . whatever it did."

Horse responded to the wandering pilot softly, told him where he was. Aidan brought his Summonerforward and addressed Enrique. "Warrior, you will never get out of this swamp by yourself in the condition you are in. And your BattleMech is badly in need of repair. We must get you to Glory Station as soon as possible, since we will need both you and your 'Mech very soon. MechWarrior Nis!"

"Yes, Star Commander?" Nis's soft voice belied her fierceness as a warrior.

"You will lead MechWarrior Enrique out of the swamp. He is too disabled to make his way alone."

Nis sounded disappointed as she affirmed the order. Like Aidan or Horse—for that matter, like all Clan warriors—Nis did not want to be left out of a fight or a mission. But she was a loyal freeborn warrior, able to take orders as well as stand up against the insults of a trueborn. She would guide Enrique patiently back to Glory Station. Not only that, she had some tech abilities, and once the two 'Mechs were clear of this part of the swamp, she could find some high ground and work out field repairs for Enrique's Mad Dog.She would save both pilot and 'Mech, but in return would probably get only surliness from Enrique once he discovered she was a freeborn.

Enrique's short-ranged TBS system was the only part of his communications system still in operation. Nis was able to verbally transmit a general route that they would follow, but could not directly download into Enrique's navigation system.

"Did you come across any others from your Trinary after you crashed?" Aidan asked Enrique.

"One. 'Mech smashed, pilot with crushed chest. Still alive, but not for long. She could not talk."

"She? It was not your leader, was it?"

"Star Captain Joanna? No. With a crushed chest, she would be up and walking."

"Farewell, Enrique. May the spirit of Nicholas Kerensky guide you both."

The two 'Mechs quickly disappeared into the thick mist. Although Aidan had left open the channels between his 'Mech and theirs, the radio was soon filled with earsplitting static. He switched it off and signaled to Horse.

"What was that spirit of Kerensky stuff?" Horse asked.

"Simple good wishes, Horse. Simple good wishes."

"I knew the dead warrior would not be Joanna. She is much too evil to die so easily."

"You hardly know her."

"I have seen her often enough. And there are your stories ..."

"Treat them as stories. They are meaningless."

"You shared her bed."

"And that was the extent of it. There was no intimacy, no sharing. It was sex with a dragon, no more, no less. Was that laughter I heard?"

"You amuse me, Star Commander Jorge. Sex with a dragon. What a picture!"

"Let us leave it as a picture. We have a mission and we are one-fifth diminished."

"I wonder if any of the others from the incoming Trinary have survived?"

"If the swamp does not claim us, we will find out soon enough. Star!"

Horse and the others responded to the command summoning, and the four 'Mechs continued to lumber through the swamp, walking blind, using their sensors to find their way through the maze. Aidan thought how strange they would look, had anyone been able to actually see them. Four powerful, dangerous Battle-Mechs slogging along like oversized children playing in puddles. But no puddle had ever presented the overwhelming dangers of Blood Swamp.