Heir to the Dragon

by Robert N. Charrette

  They headed for a darkened building, then turned to walk along its length. The armored man stopped and tilted his head toward one door, confirming Dechan's own count—this was the one they wanted.

  Dechan nodded and stepped forward to rap on the rough plank door. After a moment, he heard a soft rustling inside. Another moment, and the door creaked open to reveal a woman in a nightrobe. Her head was shaven bare in traditional Buddhist fashion.

  "Jokan Tomiko Tetsuhara?" he inquired.

  Her eyes flicked over him. Dechan was acutely aware of his scruffy appearance. He stood rigid, as though under inspection by a full Tai-sa, wishing he could hide the ragged, dark patches where once the proud insignia of Wolf's Dragoons had been. A brief frown crossed the woman's face as her bright eyes released him and shifted to the man at his side.

  If I fail to meet her standards, Dechan thought, how can he pass? Dechan made his own inspection of the man standing quietly at his side. His stance was relaxed, barely betraying the weight of the metal case he held in his left hand. He wore a full helmet, which concealed his features. Rigid plates of body armor, pitted and scuffed with long abuse, and bulky vambraces of arcane shape distorted his body's outline. The massive shoulder-arm slung on his left side made the holstered pair of pistols, and Dechan's own side-arm for that matter, look like the weapons of a child. No, not someone I'd open my door to in the middle of the night, Dechan concluded.

  "I am Anshin," the nun said softly with a graceful bow, as though to superiors. "I am no longer Tomiko Tetsuhara. My lord Minobu has joined his ancestors."

  She stood expectantly. Dechan knew she was waiting for them to introduce themselves. That, he decided, he would leave to his companion. The trip was a bad idea and he had argued so from the start, but he had failed to dissuade his comrade.

  The armored man stood silent under the gaze of the nun.

  "I know you," she said. "You are ..."

  "I, too, am no longer who I once was," the armored man said, cutting her off. The helmet made his voice harsh, almost guttural, as the words passed through the external speaker. "I bring a gift."

  The refrigerator unit whirred softly on the box he raised. With his free hand, he released the catch on the front panel. Soft green light spilled from the box as it opened. Lying within, ghastly in the bilious glow, was a severed head, an expression of profound surprise frozen on its features.

  "This is the head of Grieg Samsonov, one of those who conspired to trap your husband," the armored man explained. "It was my task to acquire it."

  "I do not want it!" The nun shrank back into the shadows of her cell. Her serenity shattered, her voice quavered.

  "Send it to his father. The old man will appreciate the sentiment."

  The armored man knelt to refasten the box. As the green light vanished, the nun spoke again with a hint of her former serenity.

  "I have sought my own peace here, and found it in some measure. Please do not disturb it further.”

  “As you wish."

  Dechan's companion executed an awkward bow. Dechan bowed, too, but his awkwardness came from the situation and his lack of practice rather than the armor that encumbered his fellow. The two men walked slowly back across the courtyard. As they did, Dechan heard the nun's door close quietly. The wooden barrier did little to muffle the sound of her sobbing.

  38

  Peace Park, Newbury, Dieron

  Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine

  30 September 3030

  Theodore watched the woman in the gray cloak turn onto the path that led to the cul-de-sac where he sat. A flash of light from the trees signaled that she had entered the park alone. He nodded his receipt of the message to Fuhito Tetsuhara, hidden among the shadowed boles, before standing to greet the woman. "Ohayo, Precentor."

  "Good morning to you, Prince Theodore. Please ignore my rank and call me Sharilar."

  "You are kind to allow me such familiarity." And prudent, too, to be concerned that someone might overhear your title, Theodore observed silently. "Allow me to extend the same offer. Such familiarity was normal among soldiers on the frontlines in the recent unpleasantness, and I have learned the virtue of dispensing with formalities when necessary. Please call me Theodore."

  He indicated the nearest in a row of ferrocrete benches. While she sat down, he moved to the other side of the gray mushroom of a table, and took a seat. The table's surface was inlaid with a red-and-black checkerboard of duraplast. Theodore produced a flat case from beneath his long overcoat. He opened it to reveal the ivory tokens within, each painted with the calligraphic symbol for its name. "A game of shogi while we wait for your mistress?"

  Sharilar shook her head, and Theodore shrugged, returning the case to concealment.

  "Perhaps, then, you would care to enlighten me as to your mistress's concern."

  Sharilar fidgeted and glanced about warily, but Theodore read her action as a show. He could feel that, underneath, she was not at all nervous. Why does she wish me to think so?

  He suddenly wished for the advice of old Tetsuhara-sensei. He was wise in the ways of people and could discern their true feelings, often before they were sure themselves. Sensei's control of his hara was more than enough for such a minor feat. But sensei's voice was silent, as it had been since the capture of Cochus in '28. His other teachers were equally silent.

  When Theodore had complained of their absence to Tomoe, she told him flatly that he didn't need them anymore, that he had outgrown them. When his resolve was strong, he believed her. But most days, he knew that couldn't be so. He didn't feel as assured as he acted. He felt out of his depth, in need of guidance, but had no one to lean on but himself.

  People passed the row of benches and game tables. Intent on themselves or their business, they paid scant attention to the couple speaking quietly to one another across the gray mushroom. After a few minutes, a woman wearing a caped overcoat much like Theodore's took the seat next to him.

  "Ninyu says she's entered the park," Tomoe said. Her words were for Theodore, but her eyes were fixed on Sharilar.

  The ComStar Precentor returned her stare. She-wolves, Theodore thought. They are measuring each other, assessing their positions in the pack. Friend or enemy? Theodore found himself wondering if ComStar emissaries would be friends or enemies.

  A woman strolled into sight. She was dressed in elegant but understated clothes, their muted colors appropriate to the drab morning. Nothing the woman wore betrayed her rank or origin; she might have been any well-off matron taking a morning constitutional through the park. As she drew nearer, Theodore realized that she could only be Myndo Waterly, Primus of ComStar.

  All the participants in the clandestine meeting had concealed their identities. Of them, only Theodore showed any symbols of affiliation. A large disk held his overcoat closed just over his solar plexus. The plate showed the Kurita Dragon, though an observer might assume it was merely a badge of allegiance, feigned or true, to the Draconis Combine. Tomoe's similar disk was blank.

  Greetings were brisk and swiftly completed. All four sat down, to outward appearances merely a group of chance-met friends. But nothing had been left to chance in arranging the meeting. They might all seem friendly at the moment, but for how long?

  Apparently glimpsing worry in Theodore's expression, Myndo said, "I assure you that no one will overhear our discussion, Prince Theodore. We of ComStar have certain technological resources."

  "A bold assertion, Primus," Theodore challenged.

  Myndo bristled. "Fact, Prince," she stated firmly, showing none of the concern about eavesdropping that Sharilar had displayed earlier. Indeed, Theodore noted that the Precentor herself looked more relaxed now.

  "No hostility intended, Primus," Theodore said in a conciliatory tone. To himself, he chuckled. I have learned a few tricks from my black-clad friend, Ninyu. Your ruffled feathers direct your attention to me and away from Tomoe. We shall see if your security is as strong as you say. If we can penetrate it, others ma
y as well. "All know that ComStar strives to keep lit the flame of the old knowledge."

  "It is a struggle," Myndo conceded. Theodore sensed that she was still angry, though he could not tell whether it was because of his lack of faith in ComStar's capabilities or the light tone he had used in quoting the ComStar maxim. He was impressed that her voice gave no hint of anger, but that should be no surprise. Myndo Waterly had been a citizen of the Combine before she joined ComStar. Anyone who had progressed so rapidly must obviously be shrewd in many of the ways of the Dragon.

  "The Draconis Combine is in serious danger," Myndo said bluntly.

  "That's so." Theodore saw little point in denying it. He was sure Myndo had access to all the communiques that passed through ComStar's hands. From such a trove of data, any dolt would be able to tell what dangers the Combine faced. "I'm not in need of an oracle on this matter."

  "I do not pretend to be one. ComStar does not wish to see the Draconis Combine fall."

  Theodore could almost hear the words "at this time" that the Primus must have appended silently to her statement. "And what of your neutrality in political matters?"

  "We have no wish to see Hanse Davion rule the Inner Sphere, either, for he is no friend to our Order."

  "So you feel threatened as well."

  "There is some truth in what you say," Myndo conceded.

  Much, thought Theodore. If only I knew exactly what you perceived to be the real threat. Aloud, he said, "You wanted this meeting for a purpose. May we get to that?"

  "Very well." Myndo leaned forward across the table. "We of ComStar are well aware of the Combine's military and industrial capabilities at this time. We know that you cannot raise and train a sufficiently powerful force before the Steiner-Davion alliance turns on you.

  "We offer you a solution. In doing so, we trust you with a confidence and rely on your honor to keep it. Through the years, we have trained and established a force of arms. Originally, these warriors were intended to defend our blessed Terra from aggression by treacherous lords, a secret last line of defense. We have come to see the necessity in these dark days of protecting our own interests and facilities throughout the Inner Sphere. As you know, we have already secured the right to garrison our compounds on all planets in Davion space. We also maintain substantial numbers of mercenaries under contract, both Mech Warriors and conventional forces.

  "Under the guise of manning our stations in the Combine, we propose to provide a military force that you may use to repel any invasion against the sovereign territory of the Draconis Combine. Such forces would come equipped with considerable stores of vehicles and supplies. We can also provide, at substantially reduced rates, the contracts of a large number of mercenary units.

  "Also, in the event of another outbreak of war, we shall provide interstellar communications to the Combine at reduced rates. Good communications have done more to win wars throughout history than well-armed battalions.

  "You cannot afford to refuse our offer."

  Theodore hid his surprise behind what he hoped was an interested and thoughtful expression. The Primus was offering what he needed to save the Combine—an army. But who would really control those forces? Only a fool would believe that ComStar would totally relinquish control. The troops would be an outsider's army coiling within the Dragon's bosom. ComStar offered a promise of salvation, but posed a definite threat to the Combine's safety. They were too much of an enigma to be trusted. They had already gotten an agreement to place similar troops in the Federated Suns. Had they made the same offer of defensive aid to Hanse Davion? There was still much to learn. There had to be a catch. "How do I know I cannot afford to refuse your offer? I have not heard the price."

  Myndo sat back, measuring Theodore with her gaze. "We wish to see the District of Rasalhague as a free and independent state. We expect you to support the Tyr movement in their bid for independence."

  "That would cut valuable worlds from the Combine."

  Myndo scoffed. "Most of the systems are already in Steiner's grip, even though peace negotiations are continuing. Do you expect to regain them at the table? The Lyrans have always been tight-fisted traders, with little inclination to give up what they already hold.

  "Your support, even if only tacit, will encourage the Tyr movement. They will cry as loudly to be free of the Lyran Commonwealth as they will to be quit of the Draconis Combine if they see a chance for full independence. Besides, Rasalhague has ever been a thorn in the Dragon's side, draining resources better spent elsewhere. Without Rasalhague to defend, you would free up more forces to concentrate against your opponents. You would also have a buffer zone extending over half of your pre-war border with the Lyrans.

  "You are very aware of strong separatist sentiments in the Isle of Skye. We are assured that they would take Rasalhague's freedom as a sign. Their leaders could easily decide it was time to declare independence from the Lyran Commonwealth. Think about that."

  Theodore knew too well what that could mean. Driving Skye from the bosom of House Steiner had been one of the goals of his aborted Operation Contagion. During Frederick Steiner's final days on Dromini VI, he had been most talkative about the separatist movement, confirming Theodore's evaluation. If Skye went independent, Davion would be cut off from Steiner, and the Federated Commonwealth would die aborning. And House Steiner would lose a large portion of the industrial heartland upon which their economy depended. With two isolationist border states between the Combine and the Commonwealth, that entire border would be secure.

  "You could turn all of your attention to Hanse Davion," Myndo prompted.

  Theodore found that thought very seductive. He could succeed where Takashi had failed. Once Davion was . . . Wait! He suddenly realized what was wrong with the Primus's offer. "Why haven't you gone to my father?"

  Myndo looked at him as though the question were foolish. "We have. The Coordinator was blind to the benefits of mutual interest."

  "But I don't have the power to do as you wish."

  "ComStar does not live in the past, or even the present. We are the future, and thus know much of what is to come. When the time is right, you will have the power."

  Theodore did not bother to hide his skepticism. "Mystic prognostication, Primus?"

  "If I thought you would believe it, I would say yes. You are too well-informed for that. We have learned that you are soon to be named Gunji-no-Kanrei. The post of Deputy for Military Affairs could be quite powerful. You will oversee the reshaping of the Draconis Combine's military. Some of that might could come from unconventional sources."

  "So ka. And I am to turn a blind eye to Rasalhague, ignore reports of secessionist movements, redirect military strength, and in general make your political play easier."

  "You have excellent vision."

  Vision enough to see that I have no wish to be your pawn, Primus, Theodore thought. He ran his fingers along the dragon image graven on his coat plate. The Combine needed the strength ComStar offered, but the necessity for outside help made him burn with shame. If there were a way to minimize the influence, and threat, of ComStar, he would find it.

  "You've given me much to think about, Primus."

  Myndo smiled in satisfaction. "Do not think too long, Prince. The stars move onward in their course."

  39

  Deber City, Benjamin

  Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine

  8 October 3030

  From his vantage point across the busy street, Dechan Fraser watched the three men walk in jovial companionship. Sheltering under the roof of a noodle shop, he waited until they turned down a side street. Dechan signaled Jenette Rand with a tug of his cap as he left his stool and walked swiftly to the corner. A glance around told him that the targets were proceeding unaware. He breathed his relief to see the lane empty of innocent traffic. Behind him, a sudden ruckus drew the attention of the crowds in the street.

  Dechan slid around the corner just as the trio stopped before an unmarked door inset in a sh
abby ferrocrete structure. As they hesitated, confirming the address scribbled faintly on the wall, an armored figure stepped from the shadowed alley at the building's side. Wan sunlight glinted on the oversize muzzle of the weapon he held ready.

  The three were quick to react. The tallest, already in motion before the gunman cleared the alley, stepped sideways. The short and stocky one at the back of the group reached beneath his overcoat, clearly going for a weapon. The third, a redhead, cut across in front of the first. His arm moved in a blur as he threw something and shouted, "The Bounty Hunter!" Any further words were drowned out by the brief banshee wail of the armored man's Ceres Arms Crowd-buster.

  The three dark-clad Kuritans crumpled to the refuse-strewn pavement.

  Dechan moved in, rapidly stripping the bodies of weapons. Swords and pistols clattered into an untidy pile. The armored man plucked a dull black throwing knife from his ballistic cloth jumpsuit before joining his partner in searching the bodies. Dechan knew the weapon was likely to be poisoned.

  He completed his search of the redhead. "This one doesn't have the papers."

  His partner acknowledged the comment with a nod, intent on getting the stocky Kuritan's body to roll over. Dechan busied himself with the tall one, hoping that Jenette's diversion would keep the crowd away from their back-alley business long enough for them to get clear.

  "Panati." The armored man's tone was flat and final, making the name into a sentence of death. "You will not escape this time."

  Dechan looked up in shock. It seemed impossible that they had at last brought down a long-sought quarry. His partner seemed reluctant to take action. Very well, my friend, Dechan approved silently. Savor your good fortune. He turned back to his task. Dechan's surprise at his companion's discovery was replaced by awe as he recognized the man he himself was searching. "Unity!"