Текст книги " The Price of Glory"

Автор книги: Уильям Кейт

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

"What first caught my eye was that if the sea had dried up, then the river would dry up, too." He shifted his pointer to the right-hand map, which showed the area as it was in the present.

"But right here, we see the Vermillion emerging from underground on the west wide of the mountains. It's not nearly as big as it used to be. You can see that it's only a trickle compared to what it was 300 years ago."

"Well, the river could have dried up between Freeport and the mountains," Lori said uncertainly, "but the western half is still being fed by melting glaciers or underground springs."

"Agreed." Grayson nodded vigorously. "Still, it was unusual enough to make me curious. I started examining the old Helmfast map carefully, using full magnification to explore the valley, here where the Vermillion flows off the North Highland Plains and underground." He typed rapidly, and the left-hand map expanded sharply. The red-tinged waters of the river could be seen flowing through a shallow valley. After winding through a kilometer or so of wild and rocky terrain, the river turned sharply right and vanished under a slab of granite the size of a large building.

Grayson kept typing, and the right-hand map expanded to the same scale, centered on the same area. "And I started examining the map we took from the mobile headquarters, the one made five days ago. The hardest part was using the computer to reconcile two different coordinate systems, so that I can punch one set of coordinates into the terminal and have the same spot displayed at the same magnification on both maps, new and old."

Lori looked from one display to the other, feeling more and more confused. It was hard to believe that the two were centered on the same coordinate system, as Grayson claimed. The outline of the Vermillion River Valley was clearly the same on both displays. The one on the left had water in it, the one on the right did not, but the general lay of the surrounding land, the shape of the banks, were all clearly the same. The vegetation was different, of course, sparser in the modern view. There was also a building in the modern view that was not on the older one, a low, structure of metal and ferrocrete, set into the side of a hill overlooking the bank.

Such changes were to be expected in three centuries, and so were easily discounted. What was confusing was the shape of the land where the river vanished under the rock. In the one view, the river flowed into what might be a cave mouth under a vast slab of stone. In the other, the empty river valley ran up to that same slab of stone-only now, the slab of stone was standing on end, a sheer, polished granite cliff face thirty meters tall. It was as though the river had flowed straight up to the foot of a cliff—and vanished, passing into solid rock. The land around was largely unchanged, except for places where the formerly gentle slopes of the valley walls had become steeper, almost vertical, in the area immediately around the slab. It looks like it's been dug out deliberately,Lori thought.

"That makes no sense at all," she said. "It looks . . . deliberate! An earthquake? You said there could be earthquakes here ..."

"I estimate that that stone slab weighs something like ten billion kilograms . . . ten million metric tons. Yes, an earthquake couldhave moved that large a weight . . . but could it have moved onlythat slab of stone, and not brought down these cliffs here ... or here? Or made the river banks collapse? What about this building, in the modern view? Maybe it was built after the . . . earthquake . . . but when you put it together with the lack of changes elsewhere in the area, well, I'm having trouble believing in an earthquake thatselective."

"That isthe same rock, only turned on end?"

"I'm convinced of it. It's not very thick, actually, from what I can see. It looks like it was deliberately pulled up and stood on end. I've been wondering if it wasn't trimmed a bit to fit here, across the river valley. And it looks to me as though the river valley itself was dug out some, to make the stone fit."

"Then what you're saying—." She stopped. He's right! He really has found it!

Grayson set the pointer on the enigmatic, vertical rock cliff. "Lori, my love, I think that what we are looking at here is a door. A very large, very strong, and very deliberately placed door."

'The Star League weapons cache."

"Makes sense," he said. "It's only about a hundred kilometers from Freeport. The fact that the river flowed down into the mountains suggests that there was some sort of a cave entrance there. I think that Star League engineer . . . what was his name?"

"Keeler."

"I think Major Keeler and his people diverted the river somehow, maybe by damming it off in Freeport. The river bed went dry, and left a large, clean, dry cave or tunnel, right through the mountain. When things were getting bad, and the Star League was falling apart, he movedthe weapons cache up here. Put it into that tunnel, then sealed off the entrance by putting a cliff across the front of it! Minoru Kurita comes along a little later, looking for an old Star League cache, and finds it's gone. He searches all over, but can't find a clue. He would have made satellite recon maps at the time that would have shown the dry river bed, even the cliff, but he wouldn't have had older views showing that the river had actually been flowing here or that the cliff here was different, only a few months or years before!"

"So he destroyed the world ..."

"And in doing so, probably killed everyone who actually knew the secret of where the weapons were."

"So how come ComStar couldn't figure this out?"

"I doubt that anybody thought to compare the two maps, side by side. Maybe they worked with old maps that showed things as they were before the cache was hidden. They probably worked mostly with maps made after the destruction of Freeport. But you have to see them both, side by side, to realize that that"—heused the pointer to indicate the out-of-place cliff—"simply doesn't belong there!"

"Next question. How do we get at it? That isyour idea, isn't it?"

He smiled, but exhaustion distorted the smile into something closer to a grimace. "How does brute force sound?"

"I can just see you walking your Marauderup to that cliff and kicking it in."

"I doubt that would do the trick. But we do have a healthy supply of explosives from the storehouse down in Durandel. And we have a former mining engineer who knows how to use it."

"You think we could bring down the cliff?"

Grayson used the pointer again. "I don't know geology that well, but I'm engineer enough to know that this cliff has to be supported . . . braced somehow . . . and it looks to me like that might be here, and here, on top of the cliff and at opposite sides of the valley. Or maybe our real engineer can come up with something better. And if DeVillar can't take three tons of high explosives and bring that cliff down, I'll be willing to tunnel in using a spoon!"

"But why? Oh, sure ... we could use some new 'Mechs . . . and there're spares and repair facilities in there, certainly. But we can't use all that stuff, and I doubt that Langsdorf will give us time to enjoy it. All the equipment on Helm won't help us if all we have is our under-strength regiment . . . and no time to work out a decent defense."

"For whatever reason, ComStar wants those weapons, Lori. I daresay they've promised a share of them to the Marik people working for them. Garth, for example, must be convinced he's going to get something out of all this, and that something would have to be pretty valuable."

"Like a regiment or so of mint-perfect BattleMechs."

"Right. Whether it was ComStar or Rachan working on his own, millions of people were slaughtered simply to get usout of the way, so that they could get their hands on that stuff." Grayson's mouth set again in an unyielding, bitter line. "They will notget away with that. If the cache is that valuable, let's see to it that they don't get it!"

"You're going to destroy it?"

"We'll see what Lieutenant DeVillar says. I suspect, though, that we'll either be able to break in, or we'll be able to so smash up the face of that mountain so that no one will everget in. If we can enter, perhaps we'll be in a position to bargain with Langsdorf, and still cut out ComStar so that theydon't profit from . . . from Sirius V. If we can't get in, we'll ruin it so that neither Marik or ComStar will ever find a way to get at the cache.

"One way or another, Lori, Rachan is going to pay for Sirius V!"

22

Grayson still had not slept, and only the fire burning within his mind and heart kept him moving. He and Lori had returned to the encampment, where he had explained his discovery to the senior people, including all of A Company. The Legion was about to attempt something very difficult, he explained, and it would be good if the men knew just what would be expected of them.

It had taken him five minutes to sketch an outline of the proposed plan: move south, find the cache, and seize it either as a bargaining tool or to prevent the Legion's betrayors from getting it. When DeVillar saw a printout of the cliff face area from the Marik map, he was confident that it would take only a small amount of explosives to bring it down. What he could not promise was whether or not the collapse would also cave in the cache tunnel. From the exterior, there was no indication of just how well-braced the hidden chamber might be.

Grayson did not go into details about the possible location of the weapons cache, of course. There was too much chance that someone who knew the cache's secret would be captured, and fall into Rachan's or Garth's hands. Right now, the Legion had a slight head start, and Grayson would need every instant of it. If they could race south to the Nagayan Mountains as they'd originally planned, if they could reach the cliff face where the empty river valley ended, they might claim the mountain's secret before Garth or Rachan even knew what Grayson was up to.

Whoever controlled Helm's secret would be in a powerful bargaining position and Grayson knew it. He was also tactician enough to realize that it would not be difficult to defend the approaches to that artificial cliff, perhaps making it possible to strike a deal with Langsdorf.

If Langsdorf can keep Garth and ComStar off our backs, we could agree to split the cache with him,Grayson thought. Or maybe we could make a separate deal with Garth.That thought revolted him, because Garth had apparently been a willing participant in the destruction of Tiantan. It was Garth's report, and holographs taken by men in Garth's employ, that had shown the 'Mechs masquerading as Legion 'Mechs among Tiantan's ruins.

First and foremost, though, he had to do what he could to save the regiment.

But what is theright thing to do?he wondered. If I can save the Legion by striking a deal with Garth—or even Rachan—should I? Or should I try to use the weapons to strike a deal with someone else ? Who, though ? No one on Helm believes we didn't destroy Tiantan. So far as Steiner or Davion are concerned, we’re outlaws. They won't even talk to us!

"Colonel?"

Grayson turned at the sound of Alard King's voice. The senior Tech had moved up so quietly that Grayson had not heard him.

Or maybe Lori was right, and he was asleep on his feet.

"Yes, Alard?"

The Tech looked uncertain. "Sir, I've got to talk to you. It's about what you told us just now.”

“Yes?"

"It's . . . well, I may have some additional information for you, something else to figure into your plans."

"O.K. What is it?" It was not like King to be so indirect. It almost seemed that he was afraid.

"I'm not entirely sure how to tell you this, Colonel . . . but I'm an agent."

Grayson looked at him blankly. "Agent? What kind of agent?”

"A spy, sir. I'm a spy."

Grayson found himself laughing, somewhat to his own surprise, and certainly to King's. "What's so funny, sir?"

"It's just that I don't think I've ever seen things get so complicated! Graff was a spy for Marik, thenit turned out he was really a spy for ComStar. We've got spies running around in Helmdown that everybody knows about, and spies in the regiment that no one knows about. You and I go off into Helmdown to look for spies, and then it turns out that you'rea spy yourself! O.K. . . . who are youspying for?"

"Duke Hassid Ricol."

Grayson's smile vanished instantly, his amusement suddenly gone, and even his exhaustion, too. He stared at King with a hard, cold expression. The Tech moved uncomfortably under his gaze.

Duke Ricol! The man was a Kurita noble, whose power extended across several worlds on the Steiner-Kurita frontier. This gave him the actual power of an archduke, for dukes generally had responsibility for only a single world. Ricol had a reputation as a warrior, though he had not been in combat for many years. Along the Steiner border, he was well known, though, as "the Red Duke" or "the Red Hunter."

It had been Duke Ricol who had conceived the plan four years before, one that had burned Ricol's name and face into the memory of one young Grayson Death Carlyle. That plan had begun while a combined-arms mercenary force consisting of a BattleMech company and several platoons of infantry prepared to withdraw from a small and relatively unimportant world called Trell I, or Trellwan, near the Kurita border. A pirate raid struck the world in a surprise attack that destroyed the mercenary force and conquered the world's principal city and star-port. With the civilian populace ground under the heel of the conquering marauders, it was planned that a House Kurita 'Mech force would eventually land, secure the city, and destroy the pirates. The citizens of the liberated city, it was thought, would be grateful to the Kurita forces who had rescued them, and disdainful of the Steiner-hired mercenaries who had let them down—who had, in fact, been preparing to depart the planet just as the pirate raiders had struck.

The mercenary force had been Carlyle's Commandos, and its commander, Captain Durant Carlyle, had died during the initial landing of the pirate force. Grayson had been injured, and left for dead while the remnants of Carlyle's Commandos fled the planet. Stranded on Trell I, Grayson ultimately discovered that the pirates were in league with Duke Ricol in a clever ploy to conquer a world andthe hearts of its people in a single operation.

It was on Trellwan that the Gray Death Legion had been born, child of Grayson's determination to win vengeance against the bloody Kurita Red Duke.

Grayson had won a small measure of vengeance on Trellwan. He had won a second measure of revenge on Verthandi, a world nominally under Ricol's suzerainty, though the planet's actual ruler had been a Kurita Governor-General named Nagumo.

Since then, Grayson's driving need to avenge his father's death and the destruction of Carlyle's Commandos had dimmed. Perhaps it had been tempered by the growing realization that what he had here and now—the Gray Death Legion, and friends like Ramage and Lori—were more precious to him than vengeance on a minor Kurita duke.

Now, though, mention of the Red Duke's name roused memories, thoughts, and emotions that Grayson had thought long-buried. His eyes bored into King's as though trying to open the Senior Tech's soul. "What . . ." He had to stop and bring his voice under control. "What is Ricol's interest in me now?"

"You needn't be modest, Colonel." King regained a small measure of his accustomed confidence, perhaps realizing that Grayson was not going to kill him outright. "His Grace has been interested in you since Trellwan. You created a BattleMech force out of nothing . . . and went on to beat a much larger 'Mech force with it, singlehandedly. On Verthandi, you were even better. What did you have there? Something like a company of 'Mechs?"

"Seven. Plus the local militia."

"And then you trained the rebels and the militia, with almost no equipment at the start. The Verthandians could never have won free without your help."

Grayson crossed his arms, watching King warily. "So what's your point?"

"I told you the other day about what I had learned in town. I was not able to tell you who I learned it from."

"Yes?"

"The local agent for the Combine is a woman named Dierdre Ravenna. She operates several business establishments in Helmdown, including a place up in the fancy Gresshaven District. Like Moragen and Atkins, she keeps an eye on things locally for House Kurita.

"But she also knows Duke Ricol. You see, Ricol has been interested in Helm for a long time."

"Helm? Why?"

"According to Deirdre, a number of Kurita nobles and officers have been intrigued by the place. You see, they've all read the report Minoru Kurita made at the conclusion of the Helm Campaign in 2788. And they reached the same conclusion you did, in the same way you did. The Star League cache had to be here. It couldn't be moved . . . and yet it was gone when Kurita arrived with his battle fleet. It has not surfaced in almost three centuries. Therefore, it has got to be around here . . . somewhere .”

"And Ricol was one of those nobles."

"He was. He also had an advantage over the others. He is wealthy and powerful, even for a Duke, and he maintains a JumpShip—the Huntress—as his personal vessel. And don't think he hasn't been keeping an eye on you ever since you bested him—again—at Verthandi last year.”

"You."

"Me. He sent me to Galatea a year ago, with instructions to seek you out, impress you with my technical skills, and to join the Gray Death Legion." King smiled. "I didn't realize you would make me Senior Tech . . . and your own personal Tech as well. That was an unexpected bonus. When His Grace realized that you were being granted the Helmfast landhold, that you would become, in fact, the key to the lost Helman cache, he grew very interested, indeed."

"All of which brings us to the key question," Grayson said. The exhaustion was returning, now that the shock of revelation had ebbed. He rubbed his eyes, then looked up at King. "Why are you telling me all this? If you want me to tell you where the cache is so you can tell Ricol, forget it."

"You know where it is?"

"If I do, don't think I plan to tell you."

"Somehow, I didn't expect you to. But I do think I can help you."

"How?"

"Come with me."

"Where?"

"To Helmdown."

"How?"

"I have the necessary papers. We can dress as businessmen, run into Helmdown, see who we have to see, and then leave."

"To see this Deirdre person?"

King looked Grayson up and down, as though measuring him. "I want you to talk with Duke Ricol."

* * *

"You don't trust me."

Lori stared across the headquarters tent at Grayson, shook her head, and said again. "You don't trust me."

"It's not that, Lori." The pain in his soul was like a knife's twisting. "It's better if you don't know, that's all."

"But you calmly walk in here and tell me that if anything happens to you, I'm in charge . . . and to go through with the plan as we've discussed? God, Grayson ... I loveyou! Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Yes, Lori. It does. And it's why I . . . why I can't go into it, right now."

He had wrestled with his conscience all the way to the tent after he left King to ready the "demilitarized" skimmer. His moral dilemna had suddenly become more complex. It was unacceptable, from Grayson's point of view, to negotiate with either Garth or Rachan. It had occurred to him that finding the cache and offering it to either of those men, with certain safeguards, might be a means of guaranteeing the safety of the Legion: the Star League weapons in exchange for the safety and freedom of the regiment.

How could he even bring himself to do such a thing, though? Rachan—with or without ComStar's knowledge, but certainly with Garth's connivance—had slaughtered millions of civilians merely to seize those weapons. For Grayson, giving someone like Rachan the weapons in exchange for the lives of even his own people was like dealing in the blood of those murdered civilians. To do so would go squarely against everything that Grayson Carlyle was. The only alternative, it seemed, was to destroy the Star League cache and await the onslaught of Garth's legions. Once the cache was destroyed, there would be nothing left but a final, hopeless battle in which the Gray Death must certainly meet destruction.

He had tried to convince himself that the Marik forces might leave the Legion alone if the cache were destroyed and there was nothing left to fight for, but Grayson realized finally what a delusion that was. If he destroyed the cache, Rachan would guess that Grayson knew of the whole plot. Grayson's death, and the death of every man and woman with him, would be absolutely necessary to keep quiet the fact that Rachan—and possibly ComStar itself—was involved in the massacre on Sirius V.

It was a dead end, then. He might preserve the unit's honor, but he could not preserve their lives.

Now the equation had become even more complex. King thought that Duke Ricol might have a way out for the Legion, and Grayson knew what price Ricol would demand for his help.

Should he bargain with Ricol?Grayson was still wrestling with the moral aspects of that question. For nearly four years, he had thought of the Red Duke as his father's murderer. Yet Ricol's stratagem on Trellwan had been a legitimate ruse of war. If Grayson looked at it that way, Ricol had simply been trying to minimize casualties among his own forces and the civilian populace of Trellwan by arranging it so that Trellwan's inhabitants would not wantto rise against their conquerors.

Where was the right all this? What was right? What would Grayson's father have wanted him to do?

There was no clear answer yet, but if Grayson told Lori where he was going and who he was going to see, her protests would make the decision that much more difficult. At that moment, Grayson realized how much he didlove Lori, no matter how poorly he expressed it to her. Because he did love Lori, he could not tell her where he was going and what he was planning. Lori's hurt at his own hurt would keep him from doing what he had to.

"I love you, too, Lori. More than I can say. And I would tell you ... if I could." He shrugged. "But I can't. All I can say is . . . please . . . trust me." Grayson knew there was a chance he would not come back, but it was remote. From what King had said, he was sure that Ricol did actually want to talk to him, that it was not a trap. But to see Ricol, he would have to enter Helm-down once again, and Garth's fleet was nearly upon them.

"Don't forget that I need you as the Legion's Exec to get things rolling here." He shook his head sharply, cutting off her protest. "No! You've got to see to rounding up any last survivors that might be hiding out there in the woods. You'll have to saddle up the regiment, have it ready to move. Strike the camp, and be ready to go an hour after sundown. I should be able to do what I have to do and return by then. But if I'm not back, you must get the regiment on its way. If I know I'm going to be late, I'll adjust my course accordingly, and catch up with the column along the way. You can have one of the trainees pilot my Marauder,so it'll be with you when I get in."

Lori smiled softly. "Are you sure you shouldn't take your Marauderwith you . . . wherever you're going?"

Grayson took Lori in his arms. She resisted at first, then molded herself to his body, clinging to him with all her strength. He raised her chin, then sought her mouth with his. They kissed, long and lingeringly. "I must go. But I will see you . . . tonight, I promise."