The Price of Glory

"But why does ..."

Grayson plunged ahead, letting his words order his thoughts as he spoke them. The puzzle was clearer now, the pieces fitting together. "Think, Alard! A ComStar Precentor arranges the deaths of millions of people—in order to seize weapons that he ca

"ComStar could take some of the weapons . . . payment for the mercenaries they use."

"Maybe . . . Possibly . . . but is that worth the lives of twelve million civilians?"

King started to say something, then closed his mouth. He shook his head mutely.

"ComStar knew about that library. They must have found references to it somewhere, maybe in archives that they uncovered somewhere. Maybe there were old Star League records that mentioned a library on Helm. I think that ComStar ... or Rachan, if he was operating alone . . . looked at those records and realized that the real treasure was that computerized data center, the library!"

"But it still doesn't make sense," King said. "If they want to preserve that knowledge, they could have come to you openly, could have said, 'Hey, Colonel, it turns out there's an old Star League library hidden in your landhold. Would you mind if we went in and made a copy of the data?' Would you have turned them down?"

"No. Of course not. That's why you have to go make those copies. ComStar doesn't want to preserve that data so much as they want to destroy it!"

"But why? I've always heard that ComStar was interested in preserving old knowledge. They make mystic religion out of it . . ."

"That's why. They have twisted learning and technology and Star League science into . . . into something different. Their Order is based now on ritual and incantation and hidden mysteries. Maybe it wasn't always that way, but that's what it has become. Look, you know as well as I that most Techs laugh at Adepts who mumble incantations over a hyperpulse generator to make it work, right?" King nodded. "What happens when enough people realize they don't need ComStar incantations to operate the machinery? What if ordinary people start building . . . hyperpulse generators, say? My guess is that Rachan is here to copy the library for himself if he can, and then to destroy the library, whatever the cost." Grayson passed his hand over his eyes. He was very tired. "That library has cost twelve million lives already. That alone makes it precious. You have got to see that the information it contains is preserved . . . and spread.”

“Spread?"

Grayson pointed up the passageway. "Make sure those extra memory cores are loaded aboard the DropShips, too. There are ways of making duplicates of a core's data using a large computer like the navigational computer aboard the Invidious.We can see to it that copies of the data are made and that copies of the copies are made, and maybe we can see to it that some of the data the library contains can be spread around a bit. ComStar wouldn't be able to stop it, not if it was spread to enough worlds. Any computer can be hardwired to read data off one of the cores. Even a simple viewer can be hooked up to read it. Make enough copies, and you can beat them!"

"You say I can beat them. What about you?"

Grayson smiled, but it was a pained and broken one. "Because I'm going out with six 'Mechs to face . . . whatever Langsdorf is gathering to throw at us. I've got to stop as many of his 'Mechs on the Vermillion River as possible.

"After that, I'll meet him again on the plains in front of the DropShips. I'm going to try to buy you time enough to make those copies and load them aboard the Drop-Ships. But I don't see how I can hold him . . . and let you get away clean."

"Now wait just a minute . . ."

Grayson held up his hand. "I don't want to hear it. You scramble— now!—and obey my orders!"

Then he turned and started toward his Marauder.

* * *

The Nagayan Canyon was broad and flat, rimmed by steep and rocky bluffs. The Vermillion River flowed out from under a massive block of granite as a deep, clear pool that extended far back into the hillside as an underground lake. The river flowed from the lower end of the pool across the canyon floor in broad and looping sweeps that crossed from one side of the valley to the other and back. Along most of its length, it was broad, up to fifty meters wide in some places, and as deep as six meters at others.

There were fords, however, shallow places already spotted by Grayson's infantry scouts and specialists, who had worked through the previous night with long steel probes and instruments to test the firmness of river bottom mud and sand. Grayson's 'Mech force emerged from an entrance hidden close beside the underground pool and moved downstream, using the fords to position themselves in such a way that the enemy 'Mechs would have to cross the water to get at them. Scouts had already reported the approach of Langsdorf's third force. It was a column of six 'Mechs, all but one of them massing more than 55 tons.

"Spotters up, Colonel." The ante

Grayson acknowledged, then shifted frequencies. "Sergeant Burns? Boomerangsare aloft. Move out."

Grayson had brought Burns and about half of his command southeast from Lee's Pass. A small guard of infantry still held that pass, but more to sound the alarm if the Marik forces should try that route again than to present the enemy with a serious challenge. But Grayson had wanted Ramage's experienced infantry sergeant in the Vermillion Pass with him.

Boomerangspotter planes meant that the Marik 'Mechs were on their way. The sergeant and a handful of experienced troops from Ramage's Special Ops moved in the shadows under the rock at the source of the Vermillion, preparing.

The surviving BattleMechs of the 12th White Sabers appeared at the far end of the valley less than ten minutes later. They strode forward with a resolution that at first made Grayson wonder if they had already spotted the fords.

That resolution faltered at the water's edge. The Warhammerin the lead began wading into water that rose to the big machine's hips. An Archertook up a covering position on a hill in the rear, as the other 'Mechs—a Wolverine,a Shadow Hawk,a Wasp,and yet another of the monster Thunderbolts—began spreading out along the river, looking for a shallow place to cross.

BattleMechs are able to fully submerge and can operate for considerable periods of time under water. A 'Mech's weapons ca

Grayson wondered if Langsdorf himself was piloting the Warhammer,then decided he was not. BattleMechs, even those of the same design, become as individual as people after a firelight or two. He had seen Langsdorf's 'Mech before, but this one sported a completely different set of armor patches, numerals and unit patches, oil streaks, rust spots, and ancient wound scars.

It was just as well. He had begun to feel a sneaking admiration for Langsdorf. This feeling of being inside the enemy's head is getting to me,Grayson thought. It was hard not to sometimes when the enemy seemed to be struggling against the same things as Grayson and his men.

The Gray Death BattleMechs held their fire. The enemy 'Mechs were 600 meters away, still too far for accurate fire with most of the weapons at their disposal. The Wasp,ranging upstream, had found a ford and was moving across. The others began to make for the spot along the far shore. The Warhammer,almost halfway across, hesitated, then began moving back toward the far shore.