Warrior, coupe

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Warrior, coupe Page 11

by Michael A. Stackpole


  The projectiles ate through the ferrotitanium femur like a disease. With echoes of the gunshot-like snapping still reverberating through the cockpit, Andrew fought to keep his machine upright. Hopelessly unbalanced as the 'Mech's leg cartwheeled away behind it, his Centurion pitched to the right, slammed to the ground on its side, then rolled onto its face.

  Sparks shot through the cockpit like fireworks. Two monitors went dead and a third displayed, with clinical objectivity, the damage to the Centurion. Its right leg was gone, and landing on the autocannon had damaged it. Internal systems showed damage, and the computer reported that because of the Centurion's position, the ejection system could not work.

  Andrew felt the heavy vibrations from Yen-lo-wang's approach. He braced himself for the coup de grace. Fire and steel. That autocannon will reduce this cockpit to radar chaff.

  Justin's voice filled his neurohelmet. "I assume you're still alive, Andrew, and I will leave you thus. On Solaris, I did that favor for one enemy. Don't make his mistake and come after me again." Justin paused, then added a stinging afterthought. "And stay away from Solaris, too. You wouldn't have lasted this long fighting there."

  * * *

  Andrew stabbed his index finger onto the solar system's tactical display. "Look, Porter, you yourself said we can catch them. They've only got a four-hour lead on us. We head out at 2.5 Gs, fly close enough to the third planet—that gas giant—to get a slingshot effect and we'll reach their JumpShip before they will."

  Andrew raked fingers back through his thick auburn hair. "Why can't any of you see this?"

  Robert Craon exchanged glances with Captain Porter. "Captain Redburn, we can see what you're saying, but it would be a suicide mission. The Defiant would be pitted against another Overlord and a Leopard. All the Liao Overlord has to do is snipe at the Defiant as Captain Porter tries to catch the Leopard. It won't work."

  Andrew looked daggers at his side. "Then we'll make it work!"

  The door to the tactical center slid up into the ceiling. Andrew snapped his head around and instantly recognized the slender outline of TerraDyne's chairman. "This is a closed meeting, Anderson. No civilians."

  Anderson said nothing as he stepped into the room and allowed the door to close behind him. He flipped a plasticized identification card onto the display. It bore a picture of his face, a retinal pattern, and the Counter Intelligence Division legend across the top. The name on it, however, read "Richard Dorvalle."

  Dorvalle looked at Porter and Craon. "You are dismissed. I was never here."

  The two of them looked at Redburn. Andrew opened his mouth to protest, but the anger and defiance that had been driving him evaporated. Wearily, he nodded assent. As they dutifully passed out the door, Redburn fixed the spook with a piercing glance. "So what's really going on here?"

  Dorvalle kept his angular face emotionless. "That is not really important, Captain Redburn. What is important is that I have had a communication from the Prince, who asks me to pass on his congratulations to you."

  Redburn leaned heavily forward on the tactical display. The computer updated the configuration, setting the Leopard and Overlord yet further from Bethel. "And what did I do to please him? I was unaware that having a traitor disable your 'Mech is regularly rewarded with a medal or thanks."

  Dorvalle's face hardened. "Come off it, Redburn. Self-pity does not become you. You impressed the Prince by actually splitting your command and heading off after the Leopard. Your main body tied up the Fourth Tau Ceti Rangers and bagged a couple of heavy 'Mechs. Your people nailed two Ravens—which we're sending back to the NAIS for study, by the way—and a Vindicator. You also identified the pilot of the Centurion you faced."

  Andrew shook his head. "What is it with you spies? You're trying to console me by pointing out a silver lining on a very dark cloud. Didn't you miss something? They got into the lab and got back out. As far as security is concerned, that lab is a hemophiliac that just tangled with a chotodarl"

  Dorvalle actually allowed himself a smile, albeit a small and controlled one. "That, Captain, is the reason the Prince is most pleased, and the reason you will not pursue the Leopard."

  Everything suddenly landed on Andrew like a ton of bricks. He stepped backward to the wall, then slumped down at the base of it. "It was all a set-up? I let a Vindicator put a Jenner pilot in the hospital with a broken arm and leg, and left two Valkyries held together with baling wire and spit for a set-up? Why the hell didn't you just give the information away, or let me know so I could have held my people back?"

  The spy shook his head slowly. "If we didn't put up the appearance of a fight, Liao would never believe the information he got is valuable. This isn't a game, but there are times when we have to trick the other side into doing what we want them to do. It worked with Operation Ambush, and it worked here. It could have cost lives—thank God it didn't—but the payoff could end the war early and save countless lives."

  Andrew sighed heavily. "Good. I'm glad. I'm glad the final laugh is on Justin Xiang, and that the Prince has avenged himself upon Justin." Andrew ground his palms against his eyes. Next time, it'll be my turn. And then, Justin, the last laugh will be mine. May it ring in your ears as you die.

  13

  Lyons

  Isle of Skye, Lyran Commonwealth

  15 May 3029

  Clovis Holstein hugged the little girl to his chest and rocked her gently as the explosion's thunderous tremors faded. Brushing the dust from her hair, he forced a soft levity into his voice. "Gotta get this dirt out of your hair, Sarah, else you'll be looking like your grandma." He felt the child stiffen when he mentioned her grandmother, so he hugged her tighter. "Hush now, Sarah. No tears."

  Through the shelter's dust-laden air, in the dim light of a single bulb, Clovis studied the dirty, tired faces of thirty children. If just one starts crying, they'll all fall apart. He glanced over at the older children and gave them a reassuring smile. If they'd not held up as well as they have, Karla and I would have fallen apart. Two days. How much longer will the Combine keep that company blasting our township to rubble?

  Clovis let Sarah slide from his lap and gently laid the four-year-old-child down next to her eight-year-old-brother. "Rex, take care of your sister." As the tow-headed boy nodded bravely, Clovis stood and dusted himself off. He picked his way across the shelter's floor, carefully avoiding children trying to sleep, and caught Karla Bremen's attention.

  With a smile on her pretty face, she gave no sign of the concern and worry that had plagued her since she and Clovis had led her schoolchildren down into the bomb shelter. Clovis brushed his long black locks back away from his face as she crossed toward him, then stopped. Preening yourself again, Clovis? You idiot! Your desire to impress her is what got you into this position!

  Because New Freedom was small, all the students had worked in a single classroom set up in what the Kell Hounds had previously used as a mission briefing room. When elements of the Third Dieron Regulars hit the town, Clovis had been teaching the class about computers. He and Karla immediately guided the children to safety in the shelters below the 'Mech hangar. The arrival of the Combine troops had transformed the beginning of Clovis's dreams into an ongoing nightmare.

  Karla, slender and two heads taller than Clovis, squatted down to speak with him. Despite the dirt on her cheeks, nose, and forehead, Clovis thought her most beautiful. Looking around to make sure none of the children were watching them too closely, Karla let her smile evaporate. "Clovis, I'm worried. I thought you said they'd be gone by now."

  Clovis swallowed hard. He rested his stubby-fingered hands on her shoulders, brushing her medium-length brown hair back from her once-white blouse. "What I said before makes no difference. We have enough food down here for a month or more." Clovis faltered. This shelter was meant to house fifty adults. We can survive here for a long time.

  Karla nodded. "I know. It's just the pressure and all the unanswered questions the children ask. They all want to know if their parent
s are alive. What can I tell them?"

  Clovis could not meet her blue-eyed gaze. "Lie to them. Tell them everyone is fine and hiding in other shelters like this. For now, it will calm them enough to sleep." Clovis shrugged. "The truth will still hurt later, but truth isn't what they need right now."

  Clovis reached out to cup Karla's chin in his right hand and tilt her head up. "Listen. You're going to have to hold them together." He glanced upward. "I've got to go see what's happening."

  Karla shook her head incredulously. "You can't abandon me here."

  Clovis turned away and buckled on a gunbelt with a Smith and Webley Foxfire in the holster. Most warriors referred to the weapon sarcastically as the "purse pistol," because it seemed too small and delicate to be deadly. Clovis drew the pistol, which fit his small hand perfectly, and charged it with a snap. He slid it back into the holster with a fluid motion that only came with long hours of practice.

  His back still turned, Clovis tried to sound confident. "I have to go up there, Karla. I have to find out what's going on so we can help figure out what we're going to do."

  Karla reached out and grabbed Clovis by the shoulder, spinning him around to face her. "You can't leave us! What sort of man would desert thirty children ..." Her voice trailed off as she read the anguish twisting over Clovis's features. "Oh, God, Clovis. I'm sorry ... I didn't mean ..."

  Clovis clenched his jaw and waved away her concern. "You're right, no man would abandon thirty children. No man would have found himself in this predicament. A real man would have led everyone to safety far away from here. Being only half a man, I ushered everyone into this rathole, and now the cat sits up there, waiting for us to come to it."

  He looked into her azure eyes. "You don't know how, before all of this, I wished for some way to show you what sort of person I really am. I used to fantasize rescuing you from a dangerous situation ... Yes, even trapped in this body, I can dream of being a knight in shining armor." Clovis snorted derisively at the image. "Then this happens and the opportunity I wished for let us both see what I truly am. The word pitiful seems so appropriate."

  Karla stared at Clovis silently. "Clovis, I don't see you as pitiful..."

  "Save it!" he snarled angrily, jerking a thumb back toward his own chest. "I know what I am, and I know how everyone sees me. I'm an oddity. I'm a court jester, I'm a freak of nature that people befriend just to prove how open-minded they are, but they never want to get close. They don't care because I'm not a real person. I'm a resource, but in this situation, I'm not very useful. Face it. You'd never have spoken to me if you hadn't wanted me for your class."

  Karla slapped Clovis hard across the face. "Clovis Holstein, I will not be spoken to in that tone or with those words! You insult me, and you insult all those who are your friends."

  She pressed her right hand against Clovis's livid cheek to stroke away the sting. "You think people only see you as small, but that's not true. Maybe they're more aware of your physical proportions at first, but that changes after a while. I've got dark hair and light eyes and I always think people find me strange because of that unusual combination. You've got no monopoly on such feelings."

  She frowned heavily. "How can you say no one cares about you or wants to be a true friend? I remember seeing you at the community dance a month ago. I envied how you got along so easily with everyone. You, Dan Allard, and Cat Wilson laughed and carried on like three close friends, and it certainly didn't look as though your friends were just politely tolerating you."

  Clovis looked down at his feet. "Perhaps I do have some friends, but that's beside the point. You wouldn't have gone to the dance with me."

  Karla narrowed her eyes. "You didn't ask me, did you?"

  Clovis's look challenged her. "Would it have made any difference if I did?"

  She sighed. "I won't lie to you, Clovis. You don't fit the image of my dream man."

  The dwarf shook his head. "And Thor does?"

  Karla Bremen moistened her lips. "Clovis, I'm not a teenage girl looking for a date for the big dance. Yes, at one time, Thor closely matched what I wanted, but I've changed since creating that image. There are some things more important to me than looks." She glanced back over her shoulder to the room where the children lay huddled together. "The care and feeling you've shown over the past couple of days have touched me. You have strength, you have heart, and as much courage as anyone who ever strapped himself into a 'Mech."

  Clovis studied her face. "Are you saying there's a chance for me in your life?"

  Karla nodded. "It's not a contest with me as the prize. It's working together to see if we have what it takes to form a lasting partnership. I make no promises, other than to be honest with you, and you'll have to accept that. If we're to have a relationship, it will have to grow of its own accord."

  Clovis smiled as the tension between them eased. "Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst, as they say at the fights on Solaris."

  Karla laughed sincerely. "A wise idea. You've no idea how awful is my cooking nor how voracious is my appetite for truly bad holovids."

  "I'll take my chances." Clovis looked back toward the room containing the children. "You'd best get back to them. I still have to go up there and see what is going on."

  She hesitated, then said softly, "Be careful, Clovis."

  Slinging a satchel full of electronics repair tools over his shoulder, Clovis laughed lightly and headed toward the shaft leading upward. "Take heart, fair damsel. Beset by the Dragon we may be, but no knight in shining armor would ever leave a lady in peril."

  During the long climb up toward the surface, Clovis forced himself to concentrate on the mission at hand. Can't be dreaming about what might or might not be, Clovis. Rung by rusty rung, he ascended to a sub-basement level of the 'Mech bay. Crawling through shadowy access passages, Clovis headed deep into the facility the Kell Hounds had used as their temporary base.

  Finally, in a water pipe tunnel just north of the east-west sewer line, he found what he had been seeking. A meter beyond the wall that separated Morgan Kell's private office from the room he used for staff meetings, Clovis felt a slender fiber-optic cable running along a waterpipe.

  Bingo! Though I griped about spending five hours down in these stinking tunnels, now I'm glad Morgan wanted an independent visiphone line running out of his office. Groping around in his tool kit, Clovis located the small headset and cable tapper he'd used to check the connections when putting in the line.

  He clipped the optical collar to the line and tightened it down until he heard a dial tone in his earpiece. On the alpha-numeric keypad dangling from the optical collar, he carefully typed in "COMSTAR," then adjusted the microphone before his mouth. He turned up its volume fairly high.

  A gentle voice of indeterminant sex filled his ear. "ComStar, Lyons south. The Peace of Blake be with you."

  Clovis kept his voice to a low whisper. "I have a message for Morgan Kell."

  The ComStar technician's reply was firm but friendly. "Colonel Kell, in compliance with an order from Duke Aldo Lestrade, has left the world. I can put you in touch with his contact person here, a Clovis Holstein?"

  "I am Clovis Holstein. I need to get a message to the Kell Hounds. New Freedom has been occupied by a company from the Third Dieron Regulars. I need to tell Morgan."

  Clovis heard the gentle tapping of fingers on a keyboard. A computer beeped and the tech's voice again came on the line. "I do not have a current location for Morgan Kell."

  Clovis thought for half a second. "They should be at Alphecca, at one of the jump points."

  "That's not what my computer shows, Mr. Holstein."

  Clovis frowned. The heat from the hot water pipe filled the narrow tunnel with a stifling warmth. Sweat poured from his forehead and stung his eyes. "All right, then they should be at Ryde."

  The tech clucked lightly. "I show that they have not reported in to collect their messages. Do you want to send this message to Ryde?"

  "Yes."


  "Splendid." The click of computer keys again played through the line. "With our next transmission, the message should get there by the first of next week."

  "You don't understand," Clovis whispered frantically. "This is an emergency. The message has to go out now."

  "That will be expensive, Mr. Holstein. How will you pay for the priority transmission?"

  "How am I going to . . ." Clovis growled with exasperation, then blurted, "Charge it to the Third Dieron Regulars."

  "Very well. Initiating a call back on your line to get verification. Just a moment!"

  "No!" Clovis heard a series of melodic notes, then a harsh ring from the room above him. A voice echoed in stereo from the earpiece and above him. "Moshi, moshi?"

  Clovis ripped the optical collar from the phone line, then scurried on through the hot tunnel. Here's one time my size is an advantage. Above him, in the world of men, an alarm sounded and the pounding of heavy footsteps drummed over the floor.

  Almost instantly, Clovis realized two things. They will catch me. I've got to head away from the children. Karla's smiling face came unbidden into his mind and softened his second realization. When they catch me, they’ll kill me. May my death keep you safe, Karla Bremen . . .

  A shaft of light stabbed down into the tunnel as someone ripped away one of the access panels to the crawlspace. Clovis filled his hand with the Foxfire and shielded his eyes against the light with his left hand. Two booted feet dropped down into the tunnel, then the legs attached to them bent as the Combine soldier sank to his knees.

  Clovis pointed the gun at the man's stomach and pulled the trigger. Using the soldier's screaming as cover, Clovis cut into a cross passage. He traveled east along it, then headed back north at the next opportunity. He slid quickly through the tunnels and before he knew it, reached the outer wall and passed through it.

 

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