The Price of Glory

"Well, I'm not interested in any spy of Kurita's. Or Liao's. I was told that a man named Jenton Moragen might be able to help me, but when I found his place closed up, I thought I'd try Wilkis Atkins."

"Steiner or Davion . . . right. I knew it! I had you spotted from the moment I laid eyes on you! You arenew at this kind of thing."

The twinkle in the old man's eye robbed his words of any offense, and so Grayson smiled. "I'm afraid so. You claimed you could help me. Can you tell me if Moragen was arrested? His emporium was closed."

"Yep. Marik soldiers went in and shut him down two days ago. But he'd heard they was comin' and lit out before they got there. Same for Major Atkins."

"Why did the soldiers close them down?"

"I du

Grayson had stared at the man, hands on hips. "But who the hell are you,anyway? Another spy?"

Wallenby had broken into laughter at that. "Hell, no! But I got eyes, ain't I? They ain't shut down yet! And this is a small town ... for all that, it's the biggest city on Helm! I've lived here all my life, which is sayin' something, and when you've been in a small town that long, you get to know everyone. Lots of people from out of town are here the past few days, o' course, but you were different . . . dressed like something you weren't."

"But you know the Steiner representative."

"Yep. Know him well."

"I don't suppose you know what's been going on, here? Why all the Marik troops ... the fighting out at Durandel?"

"Nope."

"Can you get me in to see Jenton Moragen?"

"I du

Grayson hesitated. If he told Wallenby his true identity, the old man might be tempted to turn him over to the authorities in hopes of a reward. He didn't want to believe that of the friendly old man, but he'd been badly shaken by how easily Wallenby had seen through his disguise, and he didn't want to take any chances.

"I'd really rather not say. I know Moragen is taking a chance if he sees me. As far as he knows, I'm with Marik counterintelligence. The hell of it is, I learned his name from a Lieutenant Gainsborough, on Janos Marik's staff!"

Wallenby's bushy white eyebrows crowded toward the top of his forehead. "Tell you the truth, old Jules Gainsborough's word'll get you farther with Moragen than lots of others. He wouldn't have told you about either Jenton or Wilkis if he didn't think you had a reason to know. Tell you what. You stay here and let me make a call. Don't talk to anybody." He'd leaned forward on his walking stick, his eyes laughing. "There's too damn many spiesloose out on these streets, and you never know when you'll find y'self talkin' to one!"

Fifteen minutes later, Wallenby had returned, and the two men had walked east, toward the part of town dominated by the old AgroMech industrial facility. The place where they were meeting Moragen wasn't within the plant itself, but located in an AgroMech storehouse close by, where the heavy farming machines were arrayed for inspection and sale by the company that manufactured them. A palm electronic key won them admittance to the main warehouse, a dimly-lit room dominated by row upon row of huge, spindle-legged agricultural 'Mechs. Another locked door had led to a narrow hallway, then to a spiral stairway ru

The room at the bottom looked as though it had been carved from native rock, and it was chilly so many meters below the level of the street.

Two men waited under the pale light of a ceiling fluorostrip, seated at a plastic table in an otherwise empty room. One of them caught Grayson's attention immediately—tall, silver-haired, hawk-nosed, and lean, he had the look of a MechWarrior. The man opposite him was small and plain to the point of dumpiness. He was bald and rubbed the palms of his hands slowly back and forth in an incessant revelation of the strain he was under.

Wallenby gestured toward the nervous one. "This, sir, is Jenton Moragen, of Moragen's Emporium. This other gentleman is the director of Skyway Travel, citizen Wilkis Atkins. Or should I say 'Major'?"

The one identified as Atkins turned his mouth in a sour expression. "I'm not sure you should say anything, Wallenby, in front of this person." Atkins looked sharply at Grayson. "Who are you, sir?"

Grayson took a deep breath. If he had been betrayed—again—there would be no help for him here. He would have to assume that these men were who they claimed to be. If they were deceiving him, he could not see their purpose. Marik soldiers could have taken him easily while he sat in the park, a waiting for Wallenby's return. The thought that Wallenby had gone to call the soldiers had turned that fifteen minutes wait into an eternity.

"My name, gentlemen, is Colonel Grayson Carlyle. Until yesterday, I was lord of the landhold at Durandel, Helmbold. My regiment, the Gray Death Legion, is encamped some distance from here, near what is left of Durandel. I am here to try to learn what ..."

He broke off as both Atkins and Moragen rose to their feet.

"Carlyle!" Moragen said "I toldyou, Atkins! I told you it had to be him ..."

But Atkins was descending on Carlyle, his forefinger raised. "You . . you scum! You have the audacity to seek us out here . . . now?"

Even Wallenby looked shocked. "Him!" was all he said.

"Whoa, there, people," Grayson said, moving back a step. "Every since I arrived on this planet, people have been treating us like renegades, like outlaws, but I can't figure out why. Why not let me in on the secret! Just what the hell is going on around here, anyway?"

Atkins stopped short. "What? You don't know?"

"Damn right, I don't know! That's why I sneaked in here, why I wanted to see you! Somehow, we seem to have pulled the whole Marik army down on our heads . . . but we don't know how, and we don't know why! I came here to talk to you, Moragen, to try to get passage offworld for my people." He didn't mention the loss of the DropShips—there was no reason to admit that particular weakness—but it was common for mercenaries to dicker with prospective employers over transportation.

"You Dastard," Atkins said. "You're going to stand there and deny what you did on Sirius V?"

Grayson felt himself growing cold all over, as though suddenly transported to the chill surface of that ice-locked world. "Whatdid I do on Sirius V?"

"You murdering bastard, you accepted the surrender of the city of Tiantan! You negotiated the surrender, trooped aboard your DropShips, and then blew the living hell out of all five city domes! Damn you, your 'Mechs were holographed smashing through the rubble after the explosion! You blew open five domes! There were twelve million people in that city! Women! Children! Old men! Babies! The ones who didn't fry when you blew the domes choked to death in the frigid, poison air. Have you tried breathing ammonia at fifty below, mercenary? It's not healthy!"