It was at that point I knew Catford and Siwek would try to have me killed. They'd do it because my plan offended their honor. How fast they would kill me depended upon one factor: Gypsy.
In playing to the other pilots, the Major had failed to play to Gypsy. Clearly Catford was seeing himself as the true leader of our little group, and Gypsy needed to straighten that misconception out immediately. If he didn't, Catford might just take the resources he'd been given and plunk his own skinny butt on the throne of Basalt. While power might not come from the barrel of a gun, having a 'Mech's big guns did make hanging on to it a lot easier.
"Major Catford,any dismissal of this plan would be premature. It does have merit and does not obviate your role at all. In fact, it elevates it to one of protector of the people. As you have noted, the other side has talent, and they will certainly deploy it to counter the threats we present. Your opposition to it will be seen as a stroke for freedom, which enhances your position and support."
Gypsy let Catford chew on that. Gypsy had already picked up on the key point in my plan, which Catford and the others had probably missed. They were all prepared to wipe the government away and impose someone else on the people. My plan focused on the people welcoming the new leader. Not only would this increase stability, but it would also play to the ego of whoever was bankrolling the effort. Yes, he wanted to be king, but how much better to have your adoring peasants beg you to walk all over them than to have to force them onto their bellies.
Catford was sharp enough to realize he'd overplayed his hand. "I still protest this idea as futile, but we shall always be in readiness to salvage the operation here.Mister Donelly will need us, I'm sure."
24
A battle sometimes decides everything;
and sometimes the merest trifle decides a battle.
- Napoleon
Manville, Capital District
Basalt
Prefecture IV, Republic of the Sphere
29 January 3133
If I wanted to try a little more literary pretension I'd note that while we'd been in the meeting clouds had gathered like the furrows on Catford's brow. I could do that, or I could note that the gathering clouds mirrored my dark mood as I calculated how things were likely to go on Basalt. The simple fact is, however, that the clouds had gathered and had little more import than that.
One of the difficulties that Basalt had faced in trying to become known as a resort destination came from its climate. All of the advertisements described the world as "tropical," which is advertspeak forhumid . This should have come as no surprise for anyone who wanted to venture here and explore rain forests, but oppressive stickiness tends to wear on tourists and eventually makes them irritable.
And judging by Catford's mood, he'd been here since before I was born.
Gypsy dismissed the meeting and people began to clump and drift. The largest clot formed around Catford. Given the way some of the others looked at that cadre and scowled, I gathered that he'd been handpicking people for his command and they were still looking to curry favor with him. A few other folks spoke with Gypsy, but no one came over to talk to me.
I guess that didn't surprise me too much since they were warriors and had come to Basalt to ply their trade. This didn't mean they couldn't appreciate what I had to offer in my plan, but they weren't going to commit to it until Gypsy required that of them. Given that they could make an enemy of Catford by being seen as my ally, I took no offense and headed out on my own.
On Basalt, gathering clouds presaged some fairly terrific lightning storms. They were actually spectacular enough to be a tourist attraction, save that they usually were coupled with driving rain.
Aside from those who might be visiting from a desert world, rainstorms really were not high on the list of things most tourists want to do.
I caught a hovercab and took it back to the Grand Germayne before the storm broke. I figured that something or someone was waiting for me in my room, so I hit the hotel restaurant for some dinner while my visitor waited. I ordered a filet oftroses , which was a troutlike fish the size of a tuna and very good. If packaging Basalt as a tropical paradise did not work, culinary vacations might be a viable alternative.
I couldn't finish my meal, so I had the leftovers packed up and carried them with me to my room. The thread was still on the ground, so I opened the door, flipped on the light and shut the door behind me. I found no one in the room and no evidence that anyone had been in since Elle departed, not even housekeeping.
My bed had been disturbed, with the covers thrown back, two pillows piled up and the clear impression of a body that had been reclining. Curious, I pressed my hand to the mattress, but it was plenty cold. I didn't find any short red hairs on the pillow, but I still assumed the outline would have fitted Elle. Why she would have waited for me in bed left me wondering, and none of the answers fit easily, save that she wanted me distracted and not thinking about things I ought to be considering.
My early suspicions that Elle had been Reis' man inside the GGF had been quashed. Reis had given Janella a complete rundown on his operation, and she wasn't one of his. Her escape and presence on Basalt with Gypsy suggested they worked as a team, and might well have worked together for a good long time.
On Helen she'd had a tough image going, but that had been shed here. I wasn't certain if that was because she knew it wouldn't work with me, and would be challenged by many others among the recruits Gypsy had gathered. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense because, while most warriors were more than willing to acknowledge the equality of women in combat, women who were not warriors-ditto men who were not-were just seen as lesser creatures and dismissed.
And since she wanted to be dismissed, she'd bear extra watching.
Sighing, and with a full belly, I locked the door, stripped off my clothes and slipped into bed. I stretched out, expanding the indentation Elle had left on the bed and fell quickly to sleep. The thunderstorm that raged outside bled a bit into my dreams, transforming natural phenomena into the unnatural sights and sounds of war and yet somehow I slept through it all.
The next morning dawned bright. With the storm's fury spent, the clouds had dissipated and the city awoke to crews cleaning up the damage rather efficiently. I washed up and headed out, watching them for a bit, then finding a little family diner where I sucked down enough grease and preservatives to lube a 'Mech and keep me in shape to be piloting until I was Victor's age. That thought actually brought a smile to my face, which the waitress returned along with more coffee and my bill.
I strolled around the city, making mental notes about more targets and found plenty of them.
Because of the lightning storms, most power and communications lines had been buried, but junction boxes existed everywhere. Had I a pocket full of plastic explosive and detonators, I could have cut one half of Manville off from the other during a casual walk.
Looking around at the people out shopping and heading to and from work, I saw a lot of happy faces and heard a lot of laughter. These were good people. They probably worked hard, loved their friends and neighbors and were kind to animals. Their lives were pretty good.
And if my plan went into effect, that would change.
I knew my plan would work, and that made me very uneasy. I felt frustrated because I knew there was no way to defend against it. Actually, that's not true, there was: deny the enemy a reason to attack. If no one had any grievances, they wouldn't initiate terrorist activity. In our case, the grievance was one of a personal lust for power and money. While lots of folks want those things, few have enough in the way of resources to finance a revolution to acquire more.
Where a terrorist group was determined to act, Low-Intensity Terrorism had no defense. As the government moved to give itself more tools to root out the terrorists, they would be depriving the citizenry of more personal freedoms, which would breed more dissatisfaction. If someone like Niemeyer toed the line but didn't cross it, he'd have to be extremely lu
cky to stop the terrorists.
LIT also hit the government and corporate concerns hard where they could feel it: in the wallet.
All too often people are classified as consumers or constituents and dismissed. C-bills and stones, on the other hand, show up on spreadsheets and determine stock prices and bonuses. Once those numbers start showing up in red, jobs are in jeopardy and action has to be taken. Corporations will stem losses as they must, ethically or not. While some might hire more security personnel to guard their assets, if we presented them with an economical plan where they could avoid that cost by buying themselves off our hit list, they'd choose our option.
I thought hard as I walked. LIT would bring the Germaynes down. It would take several months, but their government would fall apart, and Emblyn would be able to slide in to replace them.
He'd be happy and, who knows, perhaps he'd even be good for Basalt. I could certainly hope that, because the Germaynes were history.
Of course, Emblyn's taking control was predicated on his being Gypsy's boss. I would have to confirm that. His taking over, however, wouldn't quite be in keeping with my directive to preserve stability, unless, of course, the Germaynes were inherently unstable. I'd have to check into that, too.
My stroll took me all over Manville. I ate lunch at a trendy little place on the ground floor of the city's tallest building. All around me people talked investments, stocks, money, politics and, of course, sex. People blurt out things in public places when they think they're in a private conversation, not aware that the person sitting in the booth behind them is actually closer to them than the person they are facing. It was the usual who was doing what with whom and her husband not knowing about it, and while I say it was the usual, and that I've heard it a million times before, it's just one of those things which ends up being fascinating.
Again, more of the cracks in the society made themselves apparent. Somehow it was more scandalous for a man to be going over to a Drac section of Manville to visit a house of ill repute, than his getting a "massage" at some cheap dive in a run-down Davion neighborhood down by the river.Those people were known to be dirty, after all, the whispered wisdom went, andthey would couple with anything. The irony of one of the good folks being willing to lower himself was lost on these folks, but they fully succeeded in objectifying and dehumanizing people who, less than six months before, had been fellow citizens and friends.
Once I'd gotten my fill, I continued meandering. I stopped in at a file store and downloaded reading material into my noteputer. It was the usual tourist stuff: local atlas, highlights and hotspots, and other almanac-type data. To that I added an unauthorized Emblyn biography, the same for the Germaynes and a list of local charitable organizations and what they did.
By mid-afternoon I returned to the Grand Germayne and found I had a visitor, but not in my room this time. Elle emerged from the bar and smiled at me as I waited at the lift. I nodded. "I kept your place warm last night."
Her smile broadened. "If only I could have slipped away."
"Indeed, you wouldn't have had to wait in the bar."
Elle's smile slacked a notch. "Oh, I don't think Gypsy would have been welcome to wait with me."
"No, indeed." I glanced back at the bar. "Shall we?" She didn't take my arm, but did rub against me, which I did find distracting, as I am sure she intended. We crossed the lobby to the bar, which was elegantly appointed in deep mahogany and brown leather. The rest of the hotel might have aged less well than I could have hoped in the past century, but the bar had just gotten darker and imbued with an ambience that I greatly enjoyed.
Gypsy, attired casually in a jacket and slacks of black, white shirt and black shoes, lifted a drink at the corner table in a salute. I let Elle precede me to the table and took pleasure in watching her walk in her dark green dress. The fabric had a bit of a satiny sheen to it, but was not garish. The gold- link belt matched her bracelet and earrings, and even hinted at the gold chain pattern on the heel of her shoes.
I sat facing Gypsy, with my back to the room. Elle sat between us, to my right, with her left knee pressed against mine. When the waitress came, I looked at the bar and didn't recognize any of the whiskies they offered, so I ordered a Diamond Negro.
Gypsy smiled. "You learn quickly."
"Pays to know the battlefield."
He nodded, sipping his drink which, as nearly as I could tell, was some mixed thing that wasn't fruity, but doubtless was sweet. Elle had a tall, slender glass with a lime wedge in it. It could have been nothing more than tonic water and I idly wondered if I'd taste any alcohol if I kissed her. The waitress finished pouring my beer into a frosted glass-an amenity the Egg didnot offer-and retreated.
Gypsy brought his glass forward. "To Cleansing Storm."
I touched my glass to his and hers then drank. The beer did taste as good as I recalled and I flicked a drop from the corner of my mouth with a finger. "Cleansing Storm? Please don't tell me that's what Colonel Kitten wants to call some huge op."
Elle smiled and Gypsy rolled his eyes. "Oh, no, Cleansing Storm will likely make the Cat apoplectic, but this concerns me very little at the moment. Cleansing Storm will be the name of our organization. I have consulted with my superiors and we will get thingslit in a big way here."
"Good, very good." I smiled broadly. "I have a key target in mind, but there's something very important I need to know first."
"And that would be?" "Did you intend to use me as a stalking horse for the Cat, setting me up to be neutralized before he came after you, or is that just a happy coincidence?" Gypsy's eyes widened. "It was your plan . . ."
I set my glass down carefully and slowly rotated it in my fingertips. "Gypsy, let's get one thing straight. You know I'm not stupid. LIT proves it. You'd given me command of a battalionbefore I offered my plan. Were you trying to get me killed?" His dark eyes glittered for a moment, then he smiled slyly and sat back. "I am not stupid either.
I watched the Cat and Isabel creating their own little coterie within my organization. To remove one or both would delay my plans from moving ahead. By interposing you, I gave them something else to think about. LIT is yet one more thing and they are under the impression it was because of LIT that I brought you in here. I was not looking to cause you trouble, primarily because I am mindful of how well you handled yourself on Helen. I don't see the two of them being obstacles for you."
"Obstacles, no, but trouble, yes." I drank more of my beer. "And when one of them is found floating north to Contressa on the Broad River, will this cause you a problem?" "I would appreciate it not being a complete surprise."
"Noted." I licked my lips and felt Elle's pressure against my knee increase. "About my compensation."
He laughed. "I admire your restraint. The Cat has a most-favored agreement saying he makes a stone more than anyone else I've hired."
"That's fine, but there was that consulting fee you were going to pay me, and my signing bonus."
"Will thirty thousand do?" "For starters. I like performance bonuses, too."
A frown began to corrugate Gypsy's forehead. "That could get expensive."
"Just grant me a percentage on the amounts we extort from corporations. This will please me.
You'll have to check with your superiors, I imagine, and they will want to see the proof that the plan will work. I understand that."
"A reasonable man, very good." Gypsy nodded, then sat forward again, leaning his elbows on the table. "I have been thinking of possible venues for our emergence. Communications and power seem the most efficacious."
I shook my head. "Save them for later. I have a key one in mind. It will work perfectly, and at minimal risk to us."
"Really?" I smiled, first at him, then at Elle. "Oh, yes. From the start of our campaign, the government will know it's in deep shit."
25
To that high Capital, where kingly Death
Keeps his pale court in beauty and decay,
He came.
- Percy By
sshe Shelley
Manville, Capital District
Basalt
Prefecture IV, Republic of the Sphere
4 February 3133
I explained my choice of target and watched Gypsy's expression move through shock and disgust to amusement and admiration. By the end of my discourse he looked almost giddy and the pressure of Elle's knee on mine had grown much greater. Gypsy was even willing to let me lay a bit of a trap for the Cat-more because it served his purposes than mine, but we both would be amused.
Though I made great protestations against it, with eye and touch and the mouthing of silent regrets, Gypsy whisked Elle away to attend to some details on my plan. She, for her part, made similar mouthings and gave me a very warm hug as we parted. The pressure from her knee transferred to other parts of her anatomy as applied against mine which, while quite thrilling, could have been preface to difficulties later.
It took several days to put things into place, since the plan was as dependent upon atmospherics and climate as anything else. In fact, the raid part of the mission looked ready to go off very well. The facility we needed to penetrate had incredibly lax security. As a stalking horse we called in and had delivered an order of pizza to the night crew, and the hovercar sped to the door with nothing more than a cursory glance.
Where Gypsy indulged me was at the next meeting of the staff, held in yet another location. He announced that we were going to begin with my plan, though trying to accelerate the timetable, since our master was a bit anxious about everything coming together as quickly as possible. Gypsy suggested that he would be double-tracking raids on my part with preparations for more solid military activity led by Catford. Then he invited me forward to explain my operation.
What I told them was that food and water were the most important things to a city the size of Manville. Using a holoprojection of the area, I showed how the mountains flowed down into the rivers, and how the rivers had carved the valley in which Manville sat, and how the rivers converged to form the Broad River, which flowed north to Contressa. I told them that the rivers supplied the water for the city, noted that several water purification and treatment plants had been built around the city, and pointed out that any disruption in water flow would cause a major problem in the city.
BattleTech : Mechwarrior - Dark Age 01 - Ghost War (2002) Page 19
