Текст книги "Way Of The Clans"

9

As she whispered instructions to Aidan, Joanna's voice was almost affectionate (but that was ridiculous, had to be just imagination). "Rotate torso back to center forward. Slowly. That is adequate. Not smooth but adequate, Cadet Aidan. Now you, Cadet Peri."

Aidan glanced down at the screen of his onboard computer monitor. It diagrammatically showed Peri's 'Mech, a stripped-down Kit Foxlike his. The Kit Foxwas a slower light 'Mech than some others, but at its best had reasonable versatility and firepower.

Observing from the control tower were Marthe, Bret, Rena, and Tymm, along with Falconer Joanna. Aidan was sure they were envious that he and Peri had been chosen for the shakedown runs in the first exercise with full-fledged 'Mechs. Of course, Joanna could override the controls at any time. No one was foolish enough to think a cadet could manipulate a 'Mech effectively the first time in its cockpit.

Joanna put Peri through the same maneuvers, simple movements of the 'Mech torso, that Aidan had just completed. He was pleased to see that Peri's control was not as sure as his. Her 'Mech seemed to rotate in quick, jerky moves, probably indicating nervousness in her pressing of control buttons (These Kit Foxeswere being stabilized by the onboard computers rather than using the cadet's own sense of balance via a neurohelmet. This made the 'Mech's movements ungainly.)

On his screen the running score for Peri was accumulating slowly, and he could see that, at least in torso-operation, he would remain ahead of her in total points. She would not like that. Peri spent most of her off-time worrying about how she could improve her initiatory and reactive functions in order to keep up with the physical side of training. She already scored second-highest, just behind Marthe, on the more academic challenges that training provided. Some thought that she had become Falconer Dermot's pet, which was the reason she was selected as one of the first two to actually get inside a 'Mech and operate it. Perhaps so, but Aidan wondered whether the two of them had been chosen not so much for their abilities but because Joanna perceived them as failures and wanted to display their ineptitude to the others. The more Joanna rode him about his mistakes, the more she searched for the psychological flaws in his makeup, the more she told him he would flush out of training—the more Aidan needed to succeed. Not only because he wanted to be a MechWarrior, had always wanted to be a MechWarrior, but because he was determined to draw a drop of approval from her. (He did not, of course, know that when that moment came, later that day, it would happen in the wrong place and be so damned disappointing.)

Peri finished the torso drill and Joanna addressed Aidan. "Cadet Aidan. Check your heat scale. Does it show up normal? Respond."

On the intercom, cadets always had to wait for Joanna's order to respond before they could press and hold down the blue button next to the 'Mech throttle and actually speak to her. He had expected the communication restrictions to be relaxed once in a 'Mech, and it surprised him to learn that he could still not speak to Joanna or any other officer without permission to respond.

"Heat scale normal," he said and released the button.

"As it should be. I tell you to check only to make sure you realize the most important cockpit rule. Never—not in the heat of battle or the excitement of fixing an enemy 'Mech in your sights, lining it up, and using your most skillful assault plan, your best array of weaponry in the fancy blasts and pulses that have become your battlefield specialty—never, neverforget that you must be continually conscious of the ribbons of information revealed on the heat-scale gauge. A 'Mech is like a living being; it is like the horse of the cavalry, the camel of the desert warrior. You must continually care for it, not push it too much, not allow it to become overheated. Just as those animals speeded up the time, and in many ways, expanded the territory over which wars could be conducted, so the BattleMech—and especially the OmniMech—has quickened and enhanced the possibilities of ground warfare. But even with the improved heat-sink technology of the OmniMechs our scientists have provided us, we can still disable our own 'Mech, making it a sitting duck for others, or even get it blown up and ourselves with it, because we get so caught up in being a hero that we forget the patterns of awareness that a 'Mech pilot must maintain at all times.These patterns include the knowledge of your own 'Mech as well as the situation of the fellow warriors of your Star or Star Cluster. This warning is for all of you. Cadet Peri, you understand this, quiaff?Respond."

"Aff."

"Cadet Aidan? Respond."

"Aff."

"If you do, and if you have the stomach for combat, at the moment the special red light installed beside your primary screen begins to pulse, engage in battle."

Engage in battle? Had he heard right? This was supposed to be a mere exercise in first-time awareness of being in a real 'Mech. Joanna had said nothing about battle in her instructions.

Aidan had no more time to ponder the question, nor was he allowed to question any order at this stage of training (a cadet could not address an officer without permission, even in a live-ammunition exercise like this), because the red light came on and Peri was wheeling her 'Mech around. Its right arm, the one with the autocannon clicking into readiness, was rising upward. Quickly, almost frantically, he began attending to the overhead controls. It seemed to him that to keep Peri from getting the upper hand right off, he had to make an anticipatory move. For a moment he panicked, briefly forgetting all the classroom and simulator training he had already endured.

Aidan maneuvered his 'Mech a step backward and to the right. His instinct proved correct, as Peri's first shots went wide to the left. He had no time to instruct his computer to calibrate, but he suspected those shots would have missed him even if he had kept his 'Mech standing still.

Crashing into his ears like an attack vehicle came Joanna's voice: "Poor start, the two of you. These are awesome machines, even ones as light and stripped-down as these. You can do better. Cadet Peri, use some sense. Do not shoot for the mere sake of shooting. Cadet Aidan, I do not want to see any strategic retreats. That is not the way of the Clan. Not until all aggressive tactics have been tried." For a moment, Aidan thought she had clicked off, then her voice came again, just as loud, just as angry: "And, by the way, my gentle eyasses, I hope you have taken note of the fact that none of your weapons are powered-down. We have detectors for everything you do, what you use and what you do not use. If you get nervous and soil your drawers, we will know it immediately. Now let me see at least the facsimile of a pair of warriors out there. No responses."

As she talked, Aidan was positioning the small pulse laser in his Kit Fox'sleft arm. Even before thumbing a shot, he felt unusually confident. He had scored well in weapons training. On every range, in every practice chamber, he had amassed amazing clusters of hits on any individual target. That was, of course, known-distance marksmanship training. Its fixed targets were a cinch compared to a moving 'Mech, as Joanna continually reminded them. In simulators, where computer versions of all types of 'Mechs came at the cadet suddenly, Aidan's scores were a bit less, but still second only to Marthe's, whom he beat on known-distance targets.

He checked the relevant conditions for battle on his computer screen. There was no wind, no weather factors to affect calculations. He noted good sight-alignment in the computer simulations of each weapon, and no reason to punch in any adjustment calibrations.

Before Joanna had finished speaking, he shot a series of pulses toward Peri's 'Mech, hitting it almost in the center of the torso, sending some large particles of armor flying. But she executed a rotation of the torso and his final salvos flew past the 'Mech. Then she swung the 'Mech's upper body back and began to charge at him.

He had to admire the maneuver. Desperate as Peri was, though, he knew she was the kind of pilot who would overheat faster than her machine. Joanna said often enough that too many warriors did not have enough heat sinks in their heads.

Aidan fired more bursts of his small pulse laser, not bothering to aim, just a little bravado to show the oncoming pilot that he could be just as aggressive and that employing peculiar strategies was not enough. Peri, halting her 'Mech a few meters away, quickly responded by raising her 'Mech's right arm straight into the air and shooting off some blasts of her own. In the boxy, long-legged 'Mech, the gesture had a distinctly human look, an annoying indifference to Aidan's skills, whatever they might prove to be. It made him want to finish this unexpected skirmish that much faster.

His laser fire had been a show of arrogance; now was the time to do some damage. Leveling his right arm, he fired a pair of missiles from his Streak 2-pack, hoping to catch Peri off-guard, but she was ready for the assault. An anti-missile machine gun in her 'Mech's left torso started firing. His missiles exploded before reaching a target, their flames and debris obscuring his view of the action for a moment. If any shred of doubt had remained about the reality of the battle, the shrapnel fragments flying by and bouncing off his Kit Foxwould have convinced him.

His lapse at that moment could have been fatal. Peri used the temporary camouflage of missile destruction to move to her left and take up a different position. When the smoke cleared, Aidan was aiming at nothing in particular. She had, he realized, deliberately fired too many bursts to catch him napping and line up some new shots of her own. Her laser dispatched a steady beam that stitched a semicircular line in the armor of Aidan's 'Mech. As Peri's beams rocked his machine, he thought for a moment that he had lost control, that the Kit Foxwould collapse, bend at the waist and fall forward and hit the ground. But he recovered quickly, his emotions rising into the dangerous regions of their heat scale.

He rotated his machine enough to face Peri again. Timing the shots precisely, he began firing his left-arm laser simultaneously with his right-arm LB 5-X autocannon. Peri responded sharply, revolving her 'Mech slightly and nearly avoiding Aidan's assault. Some shots grazed her chest armor, sending a few metal slivers sailing into the air but doing little damage otherwise.

Aidan tried to adjust to Peri's new move. Before he realized she had fired anything, his 'Mech was rocked by a direct hit on its left leg. A quick fall would have been the end of the match for him and his 'Mech, but this particular lucky shot was not enough to do more than rattle him momentarily.

Before Peri could inflict more injury, Aidan fired off a few more rounds from the autocannon. Dark smoke rose from the areas of armor where his shots had found targets, and Peri's 'Mech appeared to reel backward on its heels. Aidan recognized the move as a feint, designed to force his hand, fool him into launching an SRM or repeat the autocannon fusillade. He wished his 'Mech had jump capability, but this type of thirty-tonner was not equipped with that particular talent.

"What is this? Playground fun?" Joanna said in a voice that seemed to make the earphones of Aidan's headset tremble. "Have both of you planned what you will do with your future in another caste? No responses."

The words must have shaken up Peri, for her 'Mech regained its footing, and began running toward him with light, quick steps, all its weapons operating full-power and sending pieces of armor flying in all directions from various areas on Aidan's 'Mech. But her tactics were too showy and too desperate. At that moment, Aidan knew he had the battle won.

Staying calm, ignoring the light damage Peri's barrage was causing, he leveled his large laser and zeroed in on the joint linking her 'Mech's torso with its left arm. It was a bit of a crossfire, but it worked. His beam, steady and on target, burst through armor and disabled something in the link between the two sections. The 'Mech's left arm dropped suddenly, the two lasers operating there searing a deep line in the ground. The disabling sent Peri's 'Mech off balance and it began to teeter. Aidan did not know how he knew, but he sensed his opponent desperately struggling to set her machine aright. He knew she had lost control when the 'Mech began to bend forward at the waist.

"Cadet Peri!" Joanna shouted. "Check your heat scale. You are in danger of overheating."

"Not yet," came Peri's voice, sounding weak. "I have lost only 30 percent."

"No responses. That one will go on report, you can be sure. And you, Cadet Aidan. Have you become a statue? What of? The Bewildered Bystander? You have a chance to finish her. Do it!"

Finish her? Aidan thought. Any attack he mounted now, with him heavy with firepower and her nearly helpless, might kill her. Peri belonged to his sibko. He had known her all his life, had grown up with her. How could he be ordered to end that in a split second?

Yet, in every training session, the cadets had been inculcated with the necessity of obeying orders. And Joanna had ordered. Noting that his heat scale level was still in the normal range, he zeroed in both lasers and the autocannon on Peri's 'Mech, which was now beginning to right itself.

He set himself to observe his victory as he pressed the buttons controlling his weapons. And nothing happened.

Peri's Kit Foxstood passively and no firepower was being emitted from Aidan's weapons. He began punching buttons so hard he felt his joystick slip and slide in its anchoring notch. No matter what button he pushed, there was no weapons response. The weapons display on his screen indicated complete shutdown.

When Joanna's voice came back online, she sounded quite pleased. "You might as well declare yourselves dead, the both of you. Cadet Peri, your actions looked suspiciously like cowardice. No response. Cadet Aidan, your hesitation would have set you up for the kill, had you faced an opponent skillful enough to see it and act on it. Do you understand this? Respond."

"I understand, Falconer Joanna. I should have reacted instinctively, taken advantage of the moment."

"At least you got something right, cadet. You had an entire second to react, and you did not. I shut off all of your 'Mech's functions by remote control. In that second of inaction, an enemy could have cut off your head, ripped the fusion engine out of its compartment, and eaten it for breakfast. Disembark from the training 'Mechs, both of you. Now!"

On the ground, as Techs checked out each 'Mech, Aidan felt humiliated. A look over at Peri showed she felt the same. Their sibko came out of the control tower. Instead of offering siblike consolation, their eyes were averted. They stood silently by, allowing Falconer Joanna to emerge from the facility. Her expression did not show the usual arrogance, however. Instead, it was impassive, glancing at Aidan and Peri as though they were from another caste. She ordered the Techs to inform her when the two 'Mechs were ready. One of them said it would be some time because Peri's 'Mech had heated up to low-dangerous levels.

"We will wait, cadets," she said, turning back to the sibko. "We have been allocated only these two light 'Mechs for our early training. A Clan economy, one that I question. However, we can use this intercession to consider the mistakes our less-than-valiant fellow sibkin have made. When you are in the cockpit, consider what you would have done, what you would do in other situations. Preparedness is the key to success in any warfare. Cadet Marthe and Cadet Tymm!"

Both cadets snapped to attention. Joanna walked over to them and stood very close when she spoke again: "You two will take the 'Mechs out next. This time I would like to see effort. Flash is useless. Shooting off your weapons like the heroes of village tales will get you nowhere."

Aidan wanted to shout at her. Preparedness? How did she dare utter the word, when she had sent him and Peri into a battle without a comfortable set of advance instructions like those she was now giving Marthe and Tymm? The moment the question entered his mind, he knew its answer. Joanna and the others had drilled it into them. There were no proper rules for the conduct of war, no instructions preceding an ambush. And that was what had happened to Aidan and Peri. They had been ambushed, set to fight without preparation just the way it could happen in the midst of a full-fledged engagement.

Joanna finished her speech to Marthe and Tymm, then went over to the Techs to berate them for their slowness. She never seemed satisfied unless she was complaining at someone. The Techs, as was their wont, looked respectful without allowing her words to interfere with their work.

As Aidan walked toward the others, each of his sibkin found a way to avoid his glance. Even Marthe.

Silently, he stood beside her. It seemed as if she had grown a bit faster and was now even taller than he. Or perhaps the trial he had just been through had taken something out of him, made him momentarily smaller. Perhaps a bad experience could do that, make your insides settle inside you so that you temporarily lost a couple of centimeters in height until you revived.

"Why are we no longer friends, Marthe?"

"We are friends. We are sibkin."

"And we have always been that. But it was once different between us. We were, well, close."

She seemed to shudder. "Perhaps. And I see now that it was wrong. It is wrong for two people in the same sibko to favor each other. The sibko is what is important, not its individual members."

He sighed. "Are you sure of that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look around you and start praising the sibko. Once there were more than ninety of us. Now the others are gone, dead or assigned to nonwarrior castes."

"That is the way of the Clan for warriors."

"Marthe, only six of us are left. When it comes to the Trial of Position, even fewer will remain. There is no sibko anymore. There are only a half-dozen cadets ready to tear out each other's throats."

For a moment Marthe looked at him with some of the old concern in her eyes. "Be careful. If Falconer Joanna hears you talking such heresy ..."

"Heresy? Is it that? She is one of those who have worked at setting us apart, all of us. It is calculated. That is the only thing I have figured out."

"Figured out? What right have you to—"

"Every right. I am just as concerned with my survival as you are with yours. And that, Marthe, is the difference."

Joanna had noticed them talking and was staring their way with suspicion in her eyes. He had never revealed his special affection for Marthe to Joanna, but he was sure she sensed it.

"Marthe, think of the history we have been taught. They tell us tales of armies shaped into fighting units, of Stars whose warriors think each other's thoughts so closely that they are precisely aligned. But what do they do here? They find ways to separate us."

"I do not know what you mean."

"We come here as a unit, as a sibko that has grown up together, formed such an intimacy that we can almost read each other's minds. Frequently we do read each other's minds, to the point of saving lives. Now, after all this training, those of us who have survived hardly speak to one another. Bret and Rena have formed a kind of alliance, and the rest of us are on our own. They have split us up, the training officers."

"And I am certain, if you are right, that it is done with an excellent purpose."

"Then you admit that I am right."

"I admit nothing."

"And once you would have. Once we would have talked through the night if there was a problem."

"You spend your nights with—"

"Do you think I would if she did not order it?"

"I do not know what you would do."

"And once you would have known everything I would do. Do you not see? We are being trained to be isolated in the cockpit of a BattleMech, to be on our own, bid on our own, cheat each other if necessary, destroy each other if-"

"Is that why you hesitated when you had a chance at a clear victory today?"

"I might have killed Peri."

"And would that have mattered to you?"

"I do not know anymore. I think it would. Yes, damn it, I think it would. I remember playing at warrior with Peri when we were all children. That may have prevented me from taking the risk of killing her."

"Then you are a fool."

"Then I am a fool."

His response seemed to stop her for a moment, even to soften her hard gaze. It was only there for an instant, but he thought he saw the old kindness in her eyes, the old closeness that would have led at least to a brief touch. When was the last time they had touched like that?

"Look, Marthe, maybe there is some sense to what they are doing. Maybe we have to experience the, I do not know what to call it, the isolationof the pilot inside his cockpit—and from that we will learn the new closeness, not that of the sibko, but that of the warrior whose concern will be to an assigned unit. It almost makes sense to me—until I see that you are no longer—"

He stopped. He did not know how to say the words to her anymore. She was as remote to him as Falconer Joanna, but unlike Joanna, he was no longer able to embrace her.

"I am sure, Aidan, that even if you are right, everything is being done for our good. We should not question it, but merely, as ordered, become the best warriors we are capable ..."

"Stop! That is what they want you to think. That is why we are not friends any longer."

"You are foolish to think of friendship now."

He wanted to say more to her, but Joanna was walking toward them, and he went past Marthe into the control tower. Glancing back, he saw that Joanna was speaking rather severely to Marthe, but he could not hear the words. In the old days Marthe would have repeated them to him later.

Perhaps Marthe was right. It was foolish to think of friendship now. He had to eliminate those traits that were interfering with his progress as a warrior. The next time he had anyone from his sibko in his sights, with live ammo in his weapon and the orders sanctioning the act, he should shoot, kill. Even if it was Marthe.