Falcon Guard

by Robert Thurston

"Do you see now, Star Colonel, why negotiation is useless? From our point of view, there is nothing to negotiate. We demand the release of all previously seized bondsmen and the cessation of all further attempts at enslavement. No compromise is possible. What could it be? That I say it is all right to you to have some slaves if you give up some others? No, such a deal would be reprehensible, unacceptable. The only negotiation is that you will accede to our demand. Do you?"

  "I have told you that I cannot in any way—"

  "Then the negotiations are over. Will your forces attack?"

  "Eventually, yes."

  "Then I wish you to see whom you will kill. Not only your hostages, not only our adult citizenry, but these—"

  He gestured toward one side of the crowd, which parted to reveal an array of children, some gathered around the feet of the AgroMech, others underneath the machine, and a few of them sitting next to the cockpit. Inside the AgroMech, the female pilot gave Jared Mahoney a confident thumbs-up. There were children of all ages, all sizes. Scattered among them were some adults, presumably their parents.

  Aidan had to look away, more from the sheer impact of all of these children and parents gathered together than from the dramatic scene Mahoney had thought to create. His confusion about parent and child relations made him feel sick in the pit of his stomach. This group represented all that he did not understand about the nature of the bond that apparently existed between parent and child, but it was not something he liked to think about.

  "When your forces attack, these children will be the first to die. They are willing, but let me ask whether you truly wish to destroy those whose lives still lie ahead of them?"

  Aidan did not know the answer. What was more, he did not want to consider the problem.

  "We are serious, Pryde. Let me assure you of that." Mahoney gestured toward the hostage section of the crowd, where someone suddenly shoved Astech Trion out into the open area. The rebel leader walked slowly to the edge of the circle. One of his minions handed him a small laser pistol, which he placed against the back of Astech Trion's head. The next moment he triggered the weapon, killing Trion with a short blast. The astech, a man not much older than the oldest of the children gathered around the AgroMech, toppled quickly.

  "Does that convince you, Star Colonel?"

  Aidan resisted the urge to attack the rebel leader again. "There is no point in continuing this. The negotiations are closed. Take us back to the city gates."

  Jared Mahoney laughed. "Did you think I would allow you to return? No, not when I have the leader of the occupation forces and the chief ComStar representative as hostages."

  Aidan lunged forward, but the rebels yanked back on his arms. "You cannot violate the pact of truce that brought us here."

  "Can't I? I don't recall agreeing to it in the first place. You charged in here, Pryde, making your demands without hearing me. I did not invite you in under any flags, white or otherwise. No, you are my hostages now. Even if we had agreed to a truce, I would probably violate it. I am funny that way."

  Aidan realized that it was pointless to argue with this fanatic. "It does not matter," he told Jared Mahoney. "I am Clan, and we do not attach so much importance to a warrior's rank. Whether your hostage is a Star Colonel or a tech, our response to your stupidity will be the same. You have lost, Mahoney."

  "No," the rebel leader said, pointing toward the children, "but they have."

  11

  Although electronic interference from Vreeport created occasional static, Joanna was able to monitor the events within the city walls because Aidan had assigned a pair of high-flying aerofighters to train video cameras down onto the settlement. He had ordered the fighters not to interfere, but only to record data about potential Vreeport defenses against an all-out attack.

  She could see that the rebel leader had spoken true. They had the caches of explosives, the heavily mined agribot, the hostages, the angry rebel horde. When Jared Mahoney went after Aidan, she wanted to order her Star to attack the fortress, but Aidan had explicitly ordered her not to attack.

  Then, when the rebels took Aidan and the ComStar representative, Joanna had burned up the commline with her curses. She ordered her Star forward, the four BattleMechs joining up with Diana and her Warhawk at the forest edge.

  As Joanna briefed Diana on what had just occurred within the city walls, she saw that the young Mech-Warrior was just as ready as she was to charge forward on her own. Joanna wondered if this was the righteous fury of a dedicated new warrior or if it was motivated by some stupid freebirth concept of father.

  She radioed back to the command center for orders. Aidan's second-in-command, a Star Captain named Haryn Crichell, merely backed up the specific written orders Aidan had left behind.

  "But those orders do not reflect the situation where the leader of the occupation forces has been taken hostage himself."

  "No, they do not. But the Star Colonel wrote that, under no circumstances, were we to attack Vreeport unless he gave the order or was dead."

  "With all due respect, Star Captain, how can he give the order? He is captured."

  "He has a tracer signal planted on him. If he activates it, he can order the attack. Until then, or until the situation changes, we will wait."

  "Star Captain—"

  "That will be enough, Star Commander Joanna. Remain in position. Another Star will arrive soon, one more familiar with the terrain."

  Joanna resisted telling Crichell that knowledge of the terrain was not exactly essential in the small, uncomplicated area called Vreeport.

  * * *

  When Diana requested the visuals from the aerofighter cameras be transmitted onto her primary screen, she was appalled at the sheer mass of people crowded into the town square. Clanspeople of any caste did not often mingle closely together. Even when assembled for ceremonies or in council, each person made sure to leave sufficient space between his body and that of others. In some Clans one warrior approaching another too closely could be grounds for an honor duel.

  "Stravag," she muttered several times as she focused on different sections of the scene. She was especially appalled by the children placed around the feet of the AgroMech. Growing up in a village, she knew how the lower castes cared for children, how her own mother had cared for her during her earliest years. As a trueborn and former warrior, Peri had not been as warm as other village mothers, but she had shown a bond with her child that most trueborns would never comprehend. Now that Diana had been a cadet and learned to think like a warrior, she despised such ties—but she understood them.

  And understood them enough to also despise Jared Mahoney for his willingness to sacrifice innocents for a trivial and futile cause.

  It took awhile to locate her father and Melanie Truit on her primary screen. They were seated in chairs and under heavy guard near the AgroMech, facing the machine and the children. Once, when Melanie Truit tried to look away, a rebel took her roughly by the chin and forced her to look back. At times Jared Mahoney came to speak to them at length, probably haranguing them to do his bidding. While he gestured in what seemed to be frustration and anger, Diana focused in on her father. His expression was unreadable, but the steeliness in his eyes showed that he was unmoved by the rebel leader's apparent arguments. The scene would go on this way for a bit before Jared Mahoney would walk away again, only to whirl around and return, more words coming rapidly out of his mouth.

  Disgusted with the transmission, Diana cut it off, then looked out her viewport at what was still visible in the waning daylight. The VTOL was still there, never having been ordered away. It blocked the view of the city gate, but Diana could still see the hole she had blasted into the Vreeport wall.

  It was then the idea struck her. The moment it did, she clicked onto the commline, requesting a private link with Joanna.

  "All right, MechWarrior Diana, no one can hear us now," Joanna said. "I hope you have something worthwhile to say."

  Diana swallowed hard before speaking. "I reques
t permission to enter Vreeport, Star Commander."

  "Why? So you can become a hostage too? Listen, Diana, I realize that Aidan Pryde is your—"

  "I plan no empty gesture. No warrior relies on empty gestures. Even sacrifice is done for a—"

  "Spare me the trainee litany. I was a falconer, remember? Are you planning to request permission to enter from Jared Mahoney?"

  "No. As soon as it is dark enough, I can slip in through the hole I shot in the city wall. The VTOL will give me cover for most of the distance between the forest and the wall. And the hole is big enough for me to—"

  "And what do you do if guards are posted there?"

  "I can take care of that."

  "And what about rebels in the streets?"

  "I can take care of that."

  "Sounds interesting. Perhaps I will accompany you."

  "No."

  "You would order me to stay behind, MechWarrior Diana? I am your commanding—"

  "Yes, you are, but my plan has more to it. And it is important that everything be done before the other Star arrives, so that its officer cannot countermand your order."

  "I do not know, MechWarrior Diana. Convince me." Diana's argument was both hurried and terse, but she did just that.

  12

  It seemed to Aidan that Jared Mahoney could not stay still. He moved constantly, speaking in rhythm with his movements, his agitation so pronounced that Aidan could barely keep track of what the man was saying. When Mahoney walked too far away, the words got lost. When he was close, the words seemed to come out of nowhere, apparently based on that part of his discourse that had gone unheard.

  "Can you understand him?" Aidan asked Demi-Precentor Truit.

  "What is so hard to understand? He wants what he wants, and he listens to nothing else. That is the way of the fanatic everywhere, no matter what side he favors."

  Aidan shrugged in agreement. "It does not matter anyway. I have given up listening to him."

  "So then. We have two leaders not listening to one another. The way of politics everywhere, I suppose."

  "Do you believe I should deal with him, Demi-Precentor? Agree to demands that I have no authority to honor?"

  "No," she said. "That you cannot do. For the moment it is a stalemate. Either you or he can order the destruction of Vreeport. Either you or he can in some way surrender."

  "You seem cynical."

  "Perhaps. We of ComStar tend to be realistic about political matters. That is the way of ComStar."

  "Politics or not," said Aidan, "something must be done soon. I can give the order for the Star outside the city walls to attack, or even have our aerofighters strafe the square."

  "You can order that from here? How powerful. How is it done?"

  Aidan knew that Melanie Truit thought him somewhat naive, but he was not so naive as to confide to a ComStar official about the tracer signal on his person.

  "I can do it. That is all."

  "Why do you hesitate then? I have heard that Clan warriors place little value on their own lives, so it cannot be fears for your own safety that prevent you from giving the order. Besides, I have seen enough of you to know that it is not cowardice or even indecision that hold you back either. What stays your hand, Aidan Pryde?"

  "First of all, the destruction of this place would serve no purpose, so all other methods must be tested first."

  "Oh?" said Truit. "I know the Clan does not believe in waste, but that pertains only to Clan matters, Clan people, Clan property, does it not? Do you mean to say that it is the Clan way to protect the enemy from waste? I would like to know the real reason for your hesitation, Aidan Pryde."

  For all Melanie Truit's plain-speaking ways, Aidan was not so inclined to speak frankly with her. He knew how devious ComStar officials were reputed to be. Then he realized that it made little difference here and now. With the two of them held captive in a rebel community, and with no present possibility of escape, what did it matter if the Demi-Precentor were devious?

  "It is the children," he said, pointing to the now-restless young ones gathered around and beneath the legs of the AgroMech. Some of them whined, others cried, a few only whimpered complaints. The silent child was the rarity.

  "The children? But haven't you told me that the Clans have no special feeling for children, their own or anyone else's?"

  He nodded. "Yes, but it is not that simple. We are children, of course, in the sibko."

  "Sibko?"

  "Sibling company. The warrior caste is, as you know, genetically engineered. A number of young are born at one time and are raised together in early childhood. As we demonstrate our specific abilities, the weaker members of the sibko are weeded out, assigned roles in other castes. The sibkin who survive the warrior training are considered the fittest to become Clan warriors. But even among those survivors, more will fail and flush out of the sibko at various points along the way of training. Only a few of us make it to the Trial of Position, where we qualify or do not qualify as warriors."

  It was politic, he decided, not to tell her about his own failure in the Trial of Position. It was not so much to keep it a secret, but to avoid the complicated task of explaining his years of posing as a freeborn after he had qualified in his second Trial. The story was so long and involved that Jared Mahoney would probably have blown up the town square and them with it long before Aidan could conclude the tale.

  "I have heard something of your customs," Melanie Truit said, "but not about the impersonality of your childhoods."

  "Impersonality?"

  "You say you are children in the sibko. Yet it sounds as though these sibkin are so dedicated to warrior goals that they experience little or no life as real children. You are so, well, controlled that you could never imagine what it means to be a child, much less what it means to know the bond with a parent."

  "The warriors of the Clans regard parenthood and the terms related to it as near-obscenities. Why would one want to be a child like those huddled around the AgroMech? Look how much they whine and cry. They seem to be continually complaining."

  "You too would complain, Star Colonel, if you were held captive but had no understanding of why or what it meant. You must at least admit that this situation is a stressful one for these children."

  "That may be so, but I have seen lower-caste Clan young as well as Inner Sphere children under somewhat better conditions, and have been appalled by them also. What good is a childhood without purpose, one spent whimpering at the mother's knee?"

  "The purpose of childhood, Aidan Pryde, is to be a child. The Inner Sphere has its own militaristic societies, but none of them operates on a stratified caste system that places a child on a single-minded path to a warrior destiny, whether or not he or she chooses it."

  "There is never a question of choice. Of course we want to be warriors."

  "I would much prefer the life of any of these ordinary children to being a child in one of your sibkos."

  Aidan was shocked by her words. But Melanie Truit was not Clan, so how could she understand what it meant to him? How could he convey to someone outside the Clans what it meant to be a member of one?

  "Do you understand the sentiments that pass between these children and these adults?" he asked.

  "Yes. Yes, I do. I have a child, though he is almost grown now. He lives on Terra. Unfortunately, he hopes to become a MechWarrior. He might still outgrow the desire, and I sincerely hope he does."

  "Are you trying to provoke me, Melanie Truit?"

  "A bit."

  "You seem to hate war."

  "What sensible person would favor war?"

  "Is there nothing for which you would fight? Your child, perhaps?"

  "If attacked, yes. But I would not be an aggressor."

  "And is your pacifism an expression of the philosophy of ComStar?"

  "I cannot speak for the others. We are not exactly like the Clans, where one can speak for all."

  "I find ComStar a puzzle. Neutral, with a powerful army. Pacifi
stic, with military preparedness."

  "Recall that I told you what I would do. ComStar is a vast network with its own rites and rituals."

  "Do you hate the Clans the way the people of Vreeport do?"

  "I am neutral here also."

  "But what are your personal sentiments?"

  "The Clans seemed hateful when I first encountered them. You, however, are an exception."

  "Perhaps we can discuss this more, after we return from here. Tonight."

  "I will be happy to. And does that satisfy your need to take the initiative?"

  "In truth, yes."

  Jared Mahoney, who had been conferring with some of his subordinates, was approaching them again. He had changed weapons and was now carrying a small automatic rifle. He cradled it in his arms lovingly, almost the way some of the adults about the AgroMech were holding their children.

  "Our patience is running thin, Pryde. Have you made up your mind to honor our demands?"

  "No."

  "Then it is time to kill another hostage." Mahoney glanced toward the group of Clan and ComStar hostages, then shook his head and turned toward the AgroMech.

  "Some of the children are from Clan tech families," he said softly. "Perhaps it is time to kill one of them."

  He gestured toward the AgroMech, and one of the rebels grabbed a tow-headed boy and dragged him forward. Tears edged from the boy's eyes, but he stood silent and defiant before the barrel of Jared Mahoney's rifle.

  "It will not disturb you to see a child killed?" the rebel leader demanded, glancing back at Aidan.

  Aidan refused to answer, but Demi-Precentor Truit rose from her chair. "You bastard!" she screamed. "You can't—"

  Before she could finish her thought, Jared Mahoney had whirled around, raising the automatic rifle, pointing it at her. The next instant he coolly squeezed the trigger and let off a round at Melanie Truit. Her face seemed to explode outward with blood and bone, then she dropped in a heap to the ground.

  Too late, Aidan jumped to his feet, his arms thrust out in a motion he could not stop.