While the Catapult was merely a figment of the range-control computer, it was able to project data into my 'Mech and it did so with a vengeance. A glance at my secondary monitor showed armor evaporating over Ghost's chest and right leg, expanding a hole opened by an earlier tangle with aPanther . The autocannon slugs pounded my right arm and one of my small lasers winked out of existence.
Worse than all that damage was the computer kicking the gyros out of phase. This left me in a metal machine the size of a small building, moving about thirty kilometers per hour, suddenly out of control. It wasn't as if I were on ice, but as if I'd been smacked with a twenty-five-ton sledgehammer.
Ghost staggered back and sank lower, then the left foot clawed the ground and got a hold, which stopped me from going over backward.
Janella's 'Mech sailed right through the space I'd occupied and cut loose with another salvo of LRMs. They streaked in, some corkscrewing down, and pulverized the Catapult 's cockpit. Ferro- titanium supports shattered, the cockpit canopy disintegrated-save for one rounded sheet that popped out intact-and fire shredded the interior. The crumpled nose came up, then the 'Mech fell over backward, with the cockpit burning like the mouth of a volcano.
Ghost came back up and I surveyed the damage. The 'Mech had weathered the attacks pretty well, with only minor reductions in speed. My targeting capability had been slightly degraded, and I'd lost that one laser, but otherwise the machine was in very good shape.
The rangemaster's voice broke into the radio channel. "I've got all the data I need right now.
You two want to call it quits here, or head into the Valley of Death? Holding others off the range won't be that difficult."
I shook my head as sweat stung my eyes. "Not today, but soon."
Janella had turned Andrea to face me. Her 'Mech had been painted gray, with blue highlights on legs and arms. It didn't have the fierce designs some other Mech Warriors favored, instead retaining the subtle tones that had belonged to the machine since a Wolf Clan warrior had brought it into Republic service nearly fifty years earlier.
"I'm done, too, thanks. We're coming back in." Her voice revealed a bit more weariness when she flicked over to the tactical sideband we'd been sharing. "It was good to get this workout, but I wasn't focusing."
Damn, woman, if you can shoot like that when you're not focusing . . .I nodded. "Well, when they have your stats from this run worked up, I think you'll find you blasted the hell out of everything here. Going back to your taking down my 'Mech on Helen, you have a nice string going."
"Dusting that 'Mech on Helen was just varminting."
"Ouch."
"Sorry, my dear, but it's true. You were running down an alley, couldn't maneuver. Had you been standing still you'd not have been a much easier shot."
"Given the way I was shooting here, even facing you down I'd not have been much of a challenge."
She laughed, and it was good to hear those rich tones enter her voice. "Mason, you're in a brand-new 'Mech. You're the first pilot, and this is a new design and that was your shakeout run.
We've run this course before and you might not have been hitting as you have in the past, but you handled that beast very well. It's quite mobile and does have power."
She was right. TheMad Cat III -which some wags had designated Miffed Kitty-was a variant on the very successfulMad Cat design from the Clans. Being lighter than its predecessor, it ran faster, which I favored. It did lack some of the punch of theMad Cat II , but I've long been of the school that suggests being able to move and avoid damage is preferable to taking a beating to administer one.
Janella's Andrea ran seventy-five tons, which brought theTundra Wolf up into the heavy class, but the way she could make it move you'd have thought it was an under-armored light 'Mech. Her ability to shoot and judicious use of long-range weaponry meant that she picked her enemies to pieces before they closed. By the time they got to her-ifthey got to her-their armor was so ragged that a well- placed shot could cripple them.
"I will admit, my lady, I do like this 'Mech a lot. Next time you come save me, bring it instead of thatBlack Hawk . And bring Andrea."
She sighed. "I wanted to bring Andrea to Helen, but we had no reports of heavy weaponry being deployed. TheCenturion was not a bad little machine. Against AgroMechs you don't need much more."
"Provided they don't start arming them."
"Good point, though the modifications needed to get them combat operational will be expensive."
I didn't reply to that comment because I knew where it would take us. On the train down from Santa Fe we'd gone over some of the material we'd been briefed on the previous day. Neither of us had slept well thinking about it all and the commoline between her billet and mine was fairly active, even though we'd agreed to sleep apart so we'd not be keeping each other awake.
Consuela or Victor, in their wisdom, had scheduled us for a run at White Sands. Because I am a Ghost Knight and keeping my identity a secret is important, I was sent down under an alias, with records that made it look as if I was Janella's bodyguard. Since she is a Knight, they restricted the range, making it our private playground until whenever we were done. Anyone wondering why would assume it was at her request, and I'd go unnoticed, which is exactly what everyone wanted.
While allowances are made for Knights off on missions, I was actually two months overdue for my performance evaluation. Janella was more up-to-date, but was close enough to her due date to let her make the run when I did. I also suspected that some folks wanted to see how I would do in the new 'Mech, especially after the way I lost my last one.
The run was good for more than clerical reasons. White Sands is beautiful in a Spartan sort of way, but then I find deserts fascinating because they are so unlike the forests in which I grew up. The place was completely steeped in history, too, with the first nuclear bomb having been tested at Alamogordo, and I was pretty certain that placing a testing range for BattleMechs here had not been accidental.
And I knew the creation of the Boneyard definitely had not been.
I liked to think Stone had ordered it into existence, but I also saw the hand of David Lear in its creation. To the west of the testing center, between it and the San Andres Mountains, a cemetery for broken 'Mechs had been created. They came in every configuration and color scheme, from every House, Clan and mercenary unit I'd ever heard of. Legless 'Mechs rested on their sides or backs.
Others stood there with broken arms resting at their feet. On more than one occasion the 'Mech's battered head lay on the ground or sat askew atop pitted and chipped shoulders.
Stalking past it I always felt a chill running down my spine. Here, in this place, the most devastating weapon known to mankind had been created. In the shadow of where it had been detonated waited these battered engines of war. Just as mankind had realized using nuclear weapons was folly, so perhaps would we someday learn to eliminate the need for BattleMechs.
When I'd first come here an old MechWarrior guiding me out to the range taught me a rhyme whose authorship was lost in antiquity. "As you are, so once were we. As we are now, you shall someday be." Every one of those 'Mechs had been piloted into combat by someone just like me.
They'd had the myth of their invincibility proven a lie one day. Some of them lived to profit from the experience, but many more paid a fearsome price for it.
Looking at them now I realized I still clung to the idea that I was not going down. That was ridiculous, after all, since I'd been shot out of my last two 'Mechs-Maria being an exception. Digger's going down had been a wild ride, but little more. The other 'Mech, well . . . I squinted but couldn't quite see its twisted carcass amid those roasting in the sunlight.
We guided our 'Mechs into the hangar and crawled out of the cockpits. A tech came over to me with a noteputer and had me sign off on various forms. She smiled at me and I wondered if the clerk who'd fixed my room in Santa Fe was a cousin of hers. "We'll be getting the name painted on her soon, sir. You sure you want Gh
ost?" I nodded. "That's it."
She frowned for a moment. "Not a good omen. Why would you want it?" I shrugged, peeling off my cooling vest in the same motion. "Prince Victor Steiner-Davion's unit in the Clan war was called the Revenants. Revenants are Ghosts. Maybe some day I'll be good enough to have been a Revenant."
"You pilots." She shook her head, but her broad smile didn't die. "You want it, it's done. I'll even make sure they do a good job with the painting."
"Thanks." I gave her a nod, then cut along the catwalk to Janella. She finished signing off on her forms and beamed a smile at me. "My score puts me in the ninety-eighth percentile for those tested this year."
"Good. My score indicated I have a future in a service industry where if I do anything more than shoot someone a nasty glance I'm overmatched." I traced a finger along her jaw, then leaned in and kissed her.
She smiled. "Nowthat was directly on target."
"It was a ranging shot. Should I fire for effect?" Janella blushed, then hooked her arm in mine. "First, my dear, we are going to get a lot of water to rehydrate, and some food. Then we are going to shower."
"But the showering facilities here are segregated, my dear."
"Pity, true."
"And if we do that, by the time we're done . . ."
She smiled. "Yes, the train back to Santa Fe will be here. And we'll have to think of something to do to occupy our time heading back home. This shouldn't be a problem unless you don't think you can hit a moving target."
"Only one way to find out." I covered her hand with mine and squeezed. "And if I can't, I'll just have to practice."
"Indeed, Mason." Her eyes flashed. "Good thing it's a long ride."
As rides go, it wasn't long enough. Janella and I managed to find an unoccupied cabin in first class and locked it using certain override codes I knew. Laboring in obscurity as a Ghost Knight is not always fun, but it does occasionally have its perks.
Our arrival back in Santa Fe had been anticipated. Inside the station we docked our noteputers and got complete updates of news and our schedules. We could have done this at White Sands or even on the train, but having the information would have been a distraction and, as I have learned, when practicing to perfect skills, eliminating distraction is vital.Focus. It's all about focus.
Luckily, our superiors did not want us to report for more briefings. I wasn't certain if this was because they wanted to give us time off, or if they were just too busy sorting wheat from chaff so that we went unnoticed for the moment. Whichever, I was pleased since it looked as if Janella and I would be able to have a quiet dinner together.
She glanced over at me from her noteputer. "You remember that dinner?" "My mouth is watering already."
She gave me a quick smile, but it shrank pretty fast. "My parents came in from Zurich. The good news is that they want us both to join them. Kind of a preholiday dinner."
The bad news was self-evident, and pretty much ran along the same lines: they wanted us to join them. Her father, Thomas, is a Knight and, while not a warrior, his simply requesting we join him and his wife for dinner would have been enough to get our schedules cleared. Andrea, her mother, was a world-class jurist and I liked the both of them. They were very nice people and clearly were proud of their daughter.
But, they were parents and clearly thought that she, a noble from Fletcher, could do better than some guy who inventoried pine needles for a living. To make matters worse, while her father was happy that I had a job and seemed to enjoy my work, her mother was pretty sure something else was going on. She had a prosecutor's nose for deception and clearly knew I was hiding something. Janella did a wonderful job of deflecting her mother, but Andrea still came after me-much in the way her namesake 'Mech relentlessly drove in on targets.
The problem was that despite his being a Knight and their both being proud and honored Republic citizens, neither one of them was cleared to know who I was or what I did. Heck, not even all the Paladins knew the identities of the Ghost Knights. Each might know one or two, and a few a handful, but the secret of our identities were held more tightly than licenses to pilot 'Mechs.
"Command performance, lover?" I put on my best I-can't-think-of-anything-I'd-rather-be- doing face. "This time Iam going to pay for dinner, and I'll order a good wine, too-a pre-Christmas present."
She kissed me on the cheek. "That will be perfect, yes, my dear. But, don't worry, I will make it up to you."
I smiled. "As long as you're with me as you were today on the training ground, there's nothing that will daunt me."
17
Logical consequences are the scarecrows of fools
and the beacons of wise men.
- T. H. Huxley
Knights' Hall, Santa Fe
North America, Terra
Prefecture X, Republic of the Sphere
10 December 3132
Dinner went as well as could be expected. Janella's mother did make a couple of runs at me, but they were halfhearted. I actually welcomed them because her fire returned when she started on me, but quickly petered out. When she got going I recognized her, but otherwise Janella's parents were strangers.
On Helen I'd been able to see the effect of the grid's collapse on everyday folks. While it had an impact, folks didn't spend a lot of time pondering the larger consequences of it. They looked at how it would affect their lives right then, right there, and didn't waste the brain sweat on looking beyond because they had no way of calculating the consequences that far out.
Thomas and Andrea Lakewood did and had. For Thomas it meant interminable delays in important experimental data. He worked on projects where multiple labs were running parallel or complementary experiments, and lessons learned in one place would immediately be applied elsewhere. Any slowdown in that sort of information exchange wasted hundreds of man-hours and thousands of stones. The delays literally would cost lives as people waited for medicines and improved food crops.
Andrea seemed to feel the impact more keenly. Being a lawyer she liked order, and the grid's collapse was a mortal blow to order. While she did not see an anarchist lurking in every shadow, she reacted sharply to Janella's recital of her recent trip to Helen. My role there was left out, but it would not have mattered as Andrea burrowed in on Reis and GGF, balancing their roles, their actions and the subsequent changes in the power flows on Helen. As dangerous as GGF might have been, she saw Reis' gathering power as more so, and clearly feared this would be happening over and over again throughout The Republic and beyond.
I don't mean to suggest her parents were panicking, for they were not. They were just smart enough and had enough education to permit them to think several steps down the line. If people as intelligent as they were could see doom in the offing and, more importantly, didn't see any immediate solutions, the future was not very bright at all.
Eventually conversation spiraled down into comments about the food and remembrances of meals we'd had elsewhere. It might just be my opinion, but beyond the obligatory questions about how your food tastes, or the near orgasmic moaning that accompanies dessert, dinner is not the place to discuss meals eaten elsewhere. That's only one step above discussing the weather, and when you have nothing better to discuss than the weather, you just have nothing to discuss. There is no conversation, the meal is dead, and everyone should just go home.
We did rise above weather when, over coffee, Andrea declared she thought it was nice I could travel to Santa Fe while Janella was there. "When next she is given a mission, you'll have to come see us. You still live in Zurich, don't you, Mason?" "I'm here for a while, Judge. Meetings, consulting."
"On what?" Janella smiled. "He's had a meeting with Victor Steiner-Davion."
"Oh, really, Mason? Helping him with his gardening, are you?" She phrased it sweetly, as if showing me the rose's blossom would make me forget there were thorns lurking there.
"Yes, Judge, helping with his roses. Tough to grow here." I got up, excusing myself and found the restaurant's manager. I
covered the bill, then snagged two roses from a woman who had a basketful. I returned to the table and gave one each to the ladies-red for Janella and white for her mother. I had nothing special in mind concerning the colors, but I let her mom chew on the possible meanings for a bit.
Thomas beetled his white brows. "Now, if they will just bring us the check."
"I've taken care of it." I held hands up to quell protests. "No, the last few times we've had dinner, you've paid. My turn is long overdue."
"Nonsense. This was expensive." Andrea gave me a kindly smile. "We know The Republic doesn't pay . . ."
"Mother!" "Dear, it is just a fact of life. Now, Mason, we insist."
"Appeal denied." I rapped my knuckles on the table. "I appreciate it, but I needed to do this."
A glance passed between husband and wife, and Andrea relented. "Well, at least come back to our place and have more coffee."
"Andrea, I think we've taken enough of their time."
Janella nodded. "There are briefings in the morning."
I smiled. "And aphids. Can't get after them quickly enough."
Thomas' hand swallowed mine. "Good to see you again, Mason. Thanks for dinner, and that was an excellent wine. Next time, though, there will be no slipping off to pay the bill."
I shook his hand solemnly. "Just beat me to it."
He laughed and lowered his voice. "You know, we'll both be behind them."
"Uh huh." I smiled as mother and daughter hugged, then I gave Andrea a hug. "Thank you for the invitation. I appreciate you letting me intrude on your time with your daughter."
Andrea held on a bit longer than was necessary. "Our pleasure, Mason. We almost think of you as family."
We left the restaurant and walked quietly with them through the streets of Santa Fe. We reached Knights' Hall quickly enough and refused another invitation to join Janella's parents for coffee. As we made our way through the various corridors, Janella hugged my arm and laid her head on my shoulder.
BattleTech : Mechwarrior - Dark Age 01 - Ghost War (2002) Page 13
