Текст книги "Mercenary's Star"

Автор книги: Уильям Кейт

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14

 

Governor General Nagumo hitched one thigh over the comer of his desk, leaned back with his arms folded across his unadorned black jacket, and smiled. The young woman seated before him cast glances nervously about the room, taking in the spartan furnishings, the azelwood desk piled high with hardcopy printouts, the floor-to-ceiling windows looking down onto the Regis University central campus. She had soft, short-cropped brown hair, and her eyes were cold and distant.

"So, Miss Klein," Nagumo said. "May I call you Sue Ellen? Good. How are you settling in at the barracks?"

"Fine, my Lord," she said. She brushed nervously at the sleeve of her Kurita-issue uniform tunic. "Everything is... fine."

"Good, very good." He waved toward a collection of bottles and glasses on a table along one wall. "Would you care for a drink?"

She shook her head. Puzzlement, a hint of worry showed on her face. "No, thank you, Lord."

"As you wish. Well, I suppose you're wondering why I wanted to see you."

She nodded, still refusing to return his gaze. "The Governor General cannot be in the habit of talking to every mercenary Aerospace Fighter pilot in his command. Lord. Or every...prisoner."

"Well, girl, you are a very special case. You must realize that, yes?"

She nodded again.

He continued. "You signed on with this new mercenary unit. The Gray Death Legion, you called it? Yes, and while running our blockade, you fought bravely but – for some reason – your comrades abandoned you."

She leaned back slightly in her chair, her knuckles showing white against the chair's carved wooden arms. "There's no mystery there, Lord. If my...my comrades had stopped to pick me up, they would have had to fight the Leopardthat was closing on them. They didn't have the armor or firepower to win such an engagement They were forced to abandon me and...and my wingman, to escape into Verthandi's atmosphere." Pain and a touch of fear crossed her face. "Lord, I went over all of this with your interrogators weeks ago!"

"Yes, well, I'm terribly sorry for what you've been to go through. Poor girl! The commander of the Subotaiwas quite right to pick you up when she found you in Verthandi-orbit, but Admiral Kodo should have informed me that he had you and not turned such a...prize over to his interrogation teams. It was a week before I knew that my people held you, and another week before the whole story was known and I could order you released! Certainly, you should have been offered the opportunity to join us at once, rather than having to endure that blundering fool Kodo's doubtful hospitality on Verthandi-Alpha! I promise you. Sue Ellen, that the officers responsible will be disciplined!"

She raised her head, her chin firm. "Thank you, Lord, but I really am fine now. As far as your officers were concerned, I was just another enemy prisoner. I'm not complaining about my treatment"

He looked at her thoughtfully. "You are a remarkable young lady, Sue Ellen. I wonder at the... * He seemed to grope momentarily for the word. "I wonder at the callousness of your commander in leaving you behind." He looked straight at her then, pursuing another line of thought. "And your comrade, the one who died. He was dear to you, I gather."

"Yes." Softly.

"You fired into the cockpit of his Chippewa.You followed his fighter into the atmosphere, firing into it until it exploded."

"Yes." Softer still. Her face twisted in pain. For a moment, she struggled to control it. "He was...burning. I heard him over my comlink. He couldn't eject, and he was wounded...bad... and as he started re-entry, he was burning alive. I...couldn't...I...couldn't..."

She cried silently, barely suppressed heaves wracking her shoulders. Her face was contorted and wet, her grief an inner torture become naked. Nagumo slid off the desk and stepped alongside her, laying a hand protectively across her upper back.

Sue Ellen Klein did not realize that Nagumo had learned of her capture less than a day after the event That, he thought with a smile, was something she need never know. The testimony of the officer who had made pick-up on her had made it clear that Klein was broken completely by the torment of having to Wow her lover to oblivion. As she was already numb with grief and loss, normal interrogation techniques had not been necessary. In any case, her state of shock would probably have made interrogation useless.

Nagumo's orders to Kodo had been quite explicit: hold her, observe her, question her, but under no circumstances allow her to come to harm! Nagumo sensed that Lieutenant Sue Ellen Klein was a very special catch indeed, perhaps the key to destroying the mercenaries recently come to Verthandi.

Dr. Janson Vlade, one of House Ricol's interrogation team psychiatric specialists, had been assigned to monitor Klein's progress in the weeks following her capture. It had been Vlade's recommendation that she was strong enough now for Nagumo to proceed with recruitment He had briefed Nagumo carefully in what to say and do in this interview.

"That was a brave thing to do," he was saying to her now. "I know how tremendously difficult it must have been. But it shows your special strength. You could not abandon a comrade to such a horrible death. You acted as you did to spare him that fate, at such terrible cost to yourself."

"I...I didn't know what to do." She gulped hard acouple of times, fighting past the tears and the constriction of her throat "There was no way to get Jeffrie out No way...Nothing I could do..."

"Your comrade fought bravely. I respect his memory."

"Th-thank you."

"I respect you as well. Lieutenant for doing the honorable, the heroic, thing. You made a sacrifice more dear, I suspect, then giving up your own life."

"N-no. It was nothing like that Lord." The tears threatened to retum. My Lori I really...can't talk about it...".The tears threatened to return.

"I understand." He massaged her neck, rubbing gently. "But I wanted you to know I respect such courage. It is why we are offering you the chance to sign on with the Red Duke's household troops.

Duke Hassid Ricol; my master, respects such bravery as well. We have a place for you here, Lieutenant. Laying your oath with Duke Ricol could take you far indeed. Promotion...Reward..."

"My Lord, please understand when I say...I don't want to go far. I just...I just want to forget."

"Of course. Well, you may go now. Take some time to become acquainted with your new comrades. Do you have enough money? Your quarters are adequate? Good. You'll find, I believe, that things are not as terrible within the service of House Kurita as enemy propaganda may have led you to believe. Take your time. Get to know us. I'll want to talk to you again in a week or so, after you've had time to settle in."

"My Lord, you are too kind."

"Notatall, my dear. I need people like you within my command.”

“Thank you, my Lord."

He watched her leave the office and waited for some minutes after the door had closed behind her. Then he touched a key on his intercom. A man's face appeared on the comcircuit screen, a lean face, dry and sharp. The red piping of a House Ricol Spec tech showed at his high-closed collar.

"Well, Vlade, your conclusions?"

"She will come over, Lord, but she is not ready yet."

"The readings?"

"We were picking up excellent readings through the chair's electrodes, yes. Let me see..." The man picked up a sheaf of printout paper and thumbed through it. "Your hints of promotion, of reward...she didn't react at all to those stimuli. Lord. I'm not even sure she heard them. Her grief is real. It is going to take her time to recover."

"Go on."

"Ah, well..." He looked at the printouts again. "There were markedly strong responses each time you brought the conversation around to her former commander, to his abandoning her and her comrade, the one she calls Jeffrie, and to Jeffrie's death. We can't know for certain, but I feel it very likely that this Jeffrie was a lover. It is difficult to account for the depth and scope of her grief in any other way.”

“Go on."

"What particularly interested me was her response when you touched her. From what I knew of her profile, I expected her to react negatively, if at all. Instead it was positive. Quite positive."

"Hmpf! And how do you interpret that?"

"She is lonely, afraid...a very vulnerable young woman, right now. Lord. She doesn't realize it herself, I'm sure, but she is hungry for companionship."

Nagumo snorted. "Are you suggesting I make love to her to get the information I want? I'm getting rather old for such games, Vlade!"

"Of course, Lord, that is for you to decide, of course. I mean... you’re certainly not too old—" Vlade broke off, embarrassed or at least flustered.

"Never mind. Doctor. Get to the point."

"Well, Lord, I must point out that the reaction to your touch was not necessarily a reaction to yourtouch, but only to the sense of closeness, the erotic stimulation itself. I point out that she has already opened a conversational relationship with one of the young men you assigned to her squadron."

"Which oner

"Captain Vincent Mills."

"Ah, good."

"He is one of yours, of course."

Nagumo ignored the statement "Is she ready to be approached yet, do you think?"

Vlade frowned. "She needs more time, Lord. Time to get her bearings, to establish a relationship with Mills or some other strong person whom she can trust She needs to realize her loneliness after the death of her lover, and time to come to terms with what she may perceive as her own betrayal of his memory. At some point, though, her grief may become so great that she will need comfort, seek closeness with someone she perceives as a strong protector."

"How much longer?"

"A week? Two?" Vlade shrugged. "It's impossible to say. This is, after all, a young, grief-stricken woman, not a machine.”

“Mmm. And if I order you to use more traditional interrogation methods?"

Vlade paused, licked his lips. "Lord, we coulduse more direct methods, certainly. But there is still considerable risk. In her present mental condition, the pain and terror of interrogation would heighten her sense of being betrayed again.She could be driven so deeply into shock that she would never recover. She might possibly go insane, become catatonic."

"And what I want to know might be lost forever. Or she could die before she reveals it. Very well, Doctor. I don't have muchtime, but I can wait. If we can get Klein to co-operate of her own free will, so much the better."

"Yes, Lord."

"Compile a report on the readings you took. I want this in her dossier."

"Yes, Lord.”

“Dismissed."

Nagumo studied the blanked screen for a moment before turning to gaze out the window into the overcast sky above Regis. Psychiatrists were so quick to remind others that the bundles of hopes, dreams, fears, and griefs that they studied were people and not machines. Well... perhaps.But Nagumo was used to playing upon those tangled emotions in much the same way that a master Mech-Warrior like Kevlavic played upon the controls of his Marauder.It did not take Dr. Vlade and his hidden sensors and computer printouts to tell Nagumo that the Klein girl had responded to his touch. He had sensed her response, had felt her loneliness in the same instant that he'd guessed that she would not draw away from him.

Klein must know something of this Gray Death Legion that had come to Verthandi. Sometime within the next several weeks, he would learn it from her, learn how to use it against her former employer. In the meantime, he could afford to watch and wait for the rebel force's next move.

Governor General Nagumo was supremely confident of the outcome.

* * * *

Hassan Khaled's Stingerrose dripping from the waves off the beach close by the mountain-hemmed fishing village of Westlee. It was still dark, though dawn was only moments away. It was a bad time for reconnaissance of a possibly hostile area, but there was no other choice.

The Phoboshad made the crossing, was already within sight of this port. With the rising of Norn, the DropShip would be clearly visible from land. If there were unfriendly forces here, they would have to be neutralized first. Tollen Brasednewic's information indicated that Westlee was a haven for rebel sympathizers, and that the rare Loyalist force that came to the village never lingered, but still....

He studied the screens arrayed across the tightly enclosed confines of the Stinger'scockpit. The infrared scan showed a heat source, some distance off in thatdirection. Now what could that be? With rapid strides, he paced his Stingerup the beach, bringing it into the shelter of some ramshackle and weather-battered buildings above the tideline. The buildings would offer shelter as the day approached.

Khaled was Saurimat, an ikwanof the Quick Death, and that basic fact would never, could never change, though his brothers would kill him now if they met him face to face. The memory of their final parting was still dark, dark, indeed. As Saurimat, he had drilled relentlessly to understand what it meant to command, to make life and death decisions that put responsibility for the mission's success in his own hands. The Saurimat masters taught that such decisions were best made in the ice-blooded embrace of farir kalb,literally "empty heart". In that self-induced, emotionless state, love and hate, fear and bravado receded to the point where they could not touch the warrior's mind, or his decisions.

He had been studying the young commander of the Gray Death ever since signing on with the Legion. Carlyle's passions, the turmoil of emotions he carried constantly within himself, were easy to see. And yet the idea of converting the stricken DropShip for travelling over the sea had been inspired! The gamble should have failed, and yet somehow the ship had made it Even blinded by emotions, Carlyle possessed a gift for leadership that Khaled did not fully understand. There was much to be learned here.

Movement!

A ‘Mech, a Waspwith Kurita markings, was approaching, only dimly seen in the half-light of the predawn. Its pilot had not yet seen him, but the machine was moving toward him with long strides. In another moment...

There was a crackling rattle of gunfire, sharp and crisp in the morning air. The spark of a ricochet winked against one massively armored shoulder. The Wasppaused; its squat turret-head rotating, seeking the source of the attack, the medium laser held rifle-like in massive, mechanical hands.

Someone was attacking the Kurita ‘Mech with small arms! Though that fact told something about the political leanings of the town's population, it said little for the same people's intelligence. Or, had someone in the town seen Khaled's own emergence from the sea and known that he must be with the mercenary forces lately come to Verthandi? If so, the attack was a timely one, staged deliberately to provide him with opportunity.

Inshallah!He willed his mind and heart cold, repeating the phrase that swept him into the grip of farir kalb.

The heart is empty, the body a weapon, the mind and body are one.

He seized the opportunity. The mind and body are one...

The Stingersprang forward, closing the range to the Waspin twenty rapid strides. He dared not fire and risk slaughtering his new allies, nor could he risk alerting other Kurita forces that might be nearby. One of his Stinger's arms descended in a lightning stroke that crumpled the Wasp'slaser from behind. His right leg swept around and up, smashing into the Wasp'sknee in a crushing blow that sent the enemy machine lurching to one side.

Inshallah! The mind and body are one! Allah Akbar!

Before the Wasphit the ground, one of Khaled's armored fists had rocketed down, fingers knife-edged, penetrating the target ‘Mech's cockpit at the weakest point. The enemy ‘Mech went limp as Khaled straightened, withdrawing his Stinger'shand from the shattered head Only then did Khaled will himself to think again.

The townspeople emerged from their hiding places, weapons in hand, cheering wildly. In the harbor, the light of the early sun caught the Phobos'shull in a wet and golden gleam.

15

 

Another week passed. Runners from the Azure Coast carried word to Grayson that the Phoboshad arrived safely at Westlee. Storm and cloud cover had cloaked much of the sea passage. On the few clear nights, an ocean was a big place to hide something so small and unexpected as a DropShip. Now, Martinez had her command safely berthed, well under the sheltering lee of a massive cliff. Friendly rebel forces in the village had helped defeat the few Kurita and Loyalist troops in the area, actions that would probably be written off to random rebel activity rather than to the arrival of a damaged mercenary spaceship.

Use had included a scrawled message of her own for Grayson: You were right. Damn you for being a genius. Repairs proceeding– Use.

That single piece of news cheered Grayson more than he'd thought was possible. Though the Legion's situation was still serious, there now existed at least a slight possibility that the DropShip could be repaired—given time, material, hard work, and decent facilities. One day, the Legion might yet escape this world. Despite the good news about the Phobos,other concerns were more critical than ever.

"General, in my estimation, four weeks is simply not enough time!"

"Captain, that's longer than I was at first willing to grant you. We cannot sit by doing nothing and watch the destruction of our world. The army—including the Free Verthandi Rangers—must be ready to move out in three days."

Grayson had been expecting and dreading this interview for weeks. His mission of turning a rabble of mostly youngsters into MechWarriors and support troops had become instead a bitter struggle—the struggle with himself as much as with the rebel army command. On one hand, his contract obliged him to transform these people into soldiers. That meant that the longer he had to work with them, the better their chances of survival. On the other hand, Grayson felt that it would take years to mold this motley group into soldiers ready to take on the dreaded Kurita ‘Mech forces of Governor General Nagumo.

Almost since the day he had arrived at Fox Island, he had been pursuing a campaign of raising alternate possibilities but without notable success. His principal suggestion was that a campaign be begun among the citizens of Verthandi, urging them to rise en masse against their Kurita overlords. Thorvald and Ericksson assured him that the people would never move on their own without a demonstration of the rebel army's power and ability. And that 'army' was the band of youngsters the Gray Death was now attempting to train.

"Three days! General, some of those people are just kids!"

"They've got to be ready," Thorvald replied. He arched an eyebrow. 'They are ready! I watched you putting the apprentices through their paces in the ‘Mechs yesterday. They looked good."

"And so far they haven't fired a single shot, except in the simulators. God in heaven, General, you send those kids in against Kurita ‘Mechs and you're not going to havean army!"

Thorvald's eyes met Grayson's disapprovingly. "Just what is it they lack?"

"Lack? Experience! Experience, and maybe five or six more years of training to learn the difference between a PPC and a hunting rifle."

"Some of the older ones have had plenty of experience, Captain."

"Sure, sniping at militia sentries and stealing cans of food! But most of them, the kids especially, have never been under fire. General, do you know what that means?"

"Many of these... these kidshave been fighting the Brownjackets for ten years now. Your people have been invaluable in organizing them, and now it is time to let them prove what they can do—on the field."

"Shouldn't I be the one to judge when they're ready?”

“No, sir, you should not! I've seen what they can do. For this operation, they won't need fancy tactics like taking out enemy ‘Mechs with satchel charges. What they need to know is combat organization, discipline, and confidence—ail of which you've given them. Captain! I've seenit!"

Grayson shook his head violently. "Confidence isn't enough in the face of PPC and laser fire! They need experience!"

"What do you suggest as a means of giving them...experience?"

"When they're ready, I suppose we could try raiding a Government Militia depot, something lightly guarded."

Thorvald leaned back, picked up a stylus, and turned it between his fingers. After a moment, he seemed to reach a decision. "Captain, I can promise you they'll have their experience. In three days, we're opening our offensive against Nagumo. If it's successful, there will be no further need of raids or BattleMech training at all. One battle, and the campaign will be won!"

Grayson looked skeptical. "One campaign, General? And suppose the offensive isn'tsuccessful?"

"Captain, I wasn't going to give you details on the operation. There was no need for you to know, and always the danger that one of you might be captured and interrogated. Or even that the information could be...purchased, to put it bluntly."

Grayson silently clenched teeth and hands, but let the remark pass.

"I need your cooperation," Thorvald was saying. "Your forces will not be participating in the operation, of course, but we will need your help in preparing the assault, steadying the troops ahead of time, and readying the ‘Mechs. I'm telling you so that I can elicit your active cooperation. Fair enough?"

"I'm listening, sir."

"Needless to say, this is classified High Secret.”

“You have my word as well as my bond. General. What else can I give you?"

Thorvald sighed, opened a desk drawer, and removed a map, which he spread out before Grayson. "You've seen the topology of the area. The jungle basin, Fox Island, the Basin Rim, with the Bluesward Plateau south, and the planet's capital. Regis, here...about a hundred kilometers from here."

The general pulled out a second, larger map, this one a maze of streets and buildings. "This is Regis. The city sprawls out to the south from the University of Regis. You have to understand, Captain, that the University has always been the center of culture, government, even trade, here on Verthandi. A sizable population of students and teachers live in and around the Campus. These thick walls are relics of a civil war on our world four centuries ago, but they make the University a fortress in its own right.

"The Kurita invaders saw this immediately. The place is easily defended. What you must also know is that the tradition of free thought and free speech on Verthandi centers on the University. It's difficult to explain to someone from outside our culture, but suffice to say that every notable Verthandian in the arts or sciences, all our civic and religious leaders and speakers, every leading citizen of the planet was trained here. Our ruling body is called the Council of Academicians. Each has taken special graduate courses in government at the University.

"The Combine forces allowed the University to continue. To do otherwise would have been an open declaration of war. What they wanted was to absorb us quietly. With Verthandi's long-standing tradition of free thought, it wasn't that easy.

"Nagumo himself has his headquarters inside the University, somewhere in the Central Tower, and many of his troops are quartered there. Nagumo thinks to keep control of the population by maintaining his personal headquarters there.

"This is our plan. Nagumo's forces are supplemented, of course, by collaborators—calling themselves Loyalists—among the Verthandian population. They make up the militia forces. Then there're our own rebel armies, living out in the bush. The vast majority of people on Verthandi aren't Loyalists and they aren't rebels. They're just people who may not particularly like the Kurita presence on our planet but are too scared or disorganized to do anything about it"

"That's the way it is in most wars, General."

"True enough. We believe the University is the key to controlling the situation, Captain. If our army, including the Free Verthandi Rangers, can take and hold the University, even for just a few hours, we believe that the entire population will finally rise up against the Dracos. We'll have the entire city...and soon, an entire planetary population to back us. The Dracos can never manage to keep more than a handful of units on Verthandi. With the entire countryside hostile to them and supplies difficult to bring in on a long and roundabout logistical line, we believe they'll soon decide that it's just too much trouble trying to hold onto Verthandi."

"So, you want the Rangers to take the University ? Just like that?" Grayson was picturing the walls depicted on the map as they must be in real life, meters thick, meters high, set with hardpoints armed with ‘Mech-killing weapons. 'They walk up and kick down the front gates?"

Thorvald smiled. "For that aspect of the operation, we will have the invaluable assistance of Citizen Ericksson. His family owns the large AgroMech industrial facility, here, next to the University. There are underground passageways between the plant and the University, some of them large enough for ‘Mechs. The Ericksson family has always worked closely with University officials and provided the ‘Mech electronics for various technical courses. The tunnels were built to facilitate the transfer of machines and equipment to and from the plant.

"The plan is this. At night, the entire rebel army will move by various Basin rim roads to the Blues ward and then make their way south to the city. Other rebel groups already in Regis will prepare to join us. The Verthandi Rangers will follow this route, here, masked from observers in the city by the walls of this gully. They'll move quickly across the savannah under the cover of darkness, and enter the AgroMech plant here. Ericksson and local rebels will meet them and guide them into the University.

"We have timed our approach so that we will be just about at this point—here—at 0100. At that time, a team of rebel soldiers will create a diversion within the city by setting fire to a warehouse on the south end of town. The fire should draw Draco attention away from the northern perimeter, and will also serve to dazzle the LR scanners of reconnaissance satellites if the weather happens to be clear. Code signals have been arranged so that we can alert the rebels in the city to any delay and so that they can transmit a code phrase when the fire has been set

"The attack will strike simultaneously at militia and Combine targets throughout Regis at precisely 0145. The University garrison will be neutralized by our ‘Mechs appearing suddenly behind their walls. After that, the University will become a rebel fortress, and

Kurita units retreating to take cover there will be trapped and destroyed.

"The appearance of our forces will be the signal for a general rising among all Verthandians who have been afraid to join us so far. Carlotta Helgameyer has contacted each of the rebel leaders within the city and arranged it all. Nagumo, if he lives, will find himself facing an army, not of a thousand, but of a hundred thousand, even hundreds of thousands. No ‘Mech regiment can hope to maintain control of an entire world against such numbers."

"That's the plan?" Grayson asked when the recitation finally ended. Thorvald nodded.

"Are you asking my opinion?"

The General nodded again.

"First off, how do you expect your Verthandi Rangers to find their way across the savannah in the dark?"

"Eh? What do you mean? You've been training them in night ops."

"Training them, yes, but training and experience are two entirely different things. And none of the mercenaries has been over that ground by day, much less at night! The Rangers'll take casualties just getting to Regis.

"Second, I've never yet known an operation that involved untrained troops to start out on time. Suppose your people are delayed and can't take advantage of the diversion in Regis? O.K., you've arranged for coded messages, but what if your people in the city get confused with their codes, or the enemy captures them and beats the codes out of them?

"Finally, General, it seems to me that you're counting too much on this supposed rising of the citizens of Regis."

Thorvald's palms came down on his desk, making a report like the crack of a gun. "That's enough, sir. This is our world and our people. I think we know our situation and capabilities better than any hireling outsider! I'll have you know that Gunnar Ericksson was a popular Academician before the Combine took over. The people love him, and his appearance at the head of a rebel army within the University walls will trigger an uprising unlike any seen in history!"

Grayson was unconvinced. "You need more than a popular leader, sir."

"And you, Carlyle, are becoming an obstructionist!"

"I beg your pardon. General. I'm trying to be a realist."

"Then be realistic by fulfilling your contractual obligations, Captain. The assault on Regis begins after sundown three days from today. The Free Verthandi Rangers have a crucial role to play in this operation. On their shoulders will ride the success of our revolution! See to it that they are informed and prepared. I might suggest, Captain," Thorvald added with a wry smile, "that you put them through some additional night maneuvers between now and then."

"And during the attack itself? Where do you want my people?"

"The Gray Death will remain in quarters here at Fox Island. I see no reason to risk your men or equipment in this operation. You know already, Captain Carlyle, that we cannot afford to have you participate as combatants. The Regis assault will be strictly a Verthandian affair.

"Dismissed."