Страница 77 из 85
Grayson shrugged. Exhaustion was creeping up on him again, and it was an effort to stand, to talk. "We have engaged the Marik forces three times. So far, we have taken no casualties among the Mech Warriors, though we've lost nearly fifty infantrymen and armor perso
"Eight 'Mechs! That's all you have?"
"For the moment. Four more should be on line within the hour. They were in storage aboard my DropShips, and had to be broken out, powered up, and retuned.
"At the moment, my greatest concern is for my people. They've been in combat almost continuously for the past ten hours, and are exhausted. Their 'Mechs are in bad shape, despite the repairs—most of which were purely temporary in any case.
"Meanwhile, my opposite number on the other side of the hill must be reorganizing his forces for a final push through one of the passes. By this time, he knows just how strong a force I have, and knows how battered it must be. I believe he will move his entire force through one pass—probably the Drango Gap—hoping to meet me either in the pass or on this plain. I intend to oblige him."
Ricol looked aghast. "Eight . . . twelve 'Mechs . . . against how many?"
Grayson closed his eyes to concentrate for a moment. The enemy Thunderboltand Shadow Hawkhad been destroyed at the Vermillion River, and his men had damaged the Wasp, Wolverine,and Archer.Probably not damaged badly enough, however. Those 'Mechs would be undergoing repairs at this very moment and would be back in the field in another hour or two. "Nineteen. Possibly twenty. We don't know yet if Colonel Langsdorf's Warhammeris in the field."
"The odds are not good, my young friend."
Grayson smiled weakly. "Well, there are ways and ways of calculating odds, Your Grace. The odds of my 'Mech force surviving are small. But the odds of us achieving what we want look good."
"And what is it you want?"
"My senior Tech is gathering data," Grayson said. "There is a Star League library under that mountain, and I have reason to believe that is what brought ComStar here. The Marik forces . . . they're just puppets. It's ComStar . . . or a renegade ComStar Precentor . . . who is our enemy here."
"I've heard of such libraries," the Duke said thoughtfully, "though very, very few have survived . . . and none of them are intact. It would almost seem that there is a deliberate campaign to vandalize them. Of course, most were destroyed in the earlier wars."
"I'm begi
Ricol nodded agreement. "But will you do something for me?"
"What?" he asked.
"Arrange for additional copies of the library to be made ... as many as your Tech has time and material to make. When we leave here, I will carry the library with me as well."
* * *
They waited on a flat and muddy river plain. From the mouth of the valley a kilometer ahead, a small host was emerging in line-abreast formation. 'Mech after steel-armored BattleMech. Twelve 'Mechs waited south of the river to meet them. Some of them—DeVillar's Griffin ,Tracy Kent's Phoenix Hawk,the Stingerspiloted by the raw trainees Gary Brodenson and Jason Morley—were in perfect condition. But McCall's Riflemanstill trailed debris where it right arm had been blasted away, and Del-mar Clay's Wolverinecould barely stand, its internal structure starkly visible through the craters in its chest and sides. The other 'Mechs showed varying degrees of wear and tear, from Grayson's Marauderwith heavy damage to its torso, to Lori's Shadow Hawkwith most of the damage patched and repaired.
"Private cha
"You've got it, Lori."
"Gray . . . it's no good. We can't make another attack."
"What do you suggest?"
There was a long silence, as though she were studying the advancing Marik force.
"I don't know, but look, if we board the DropShips now, we could launch before they got here."
"Duke Ricol is still loading, Lori. And Alard King isn't back yet from the library. We've got to hold a little longer."
"DamnDuke Ricol. And damnthe library!"
"Do you suggest we abandon our 'Mechs? Run?"
He was answered by another silence. Was she arguing the question inwardly, one way or the other? "No," Lori said at last. "Of course not. But Gray . . . there's no way out."
"No, there isn't." He paused, considering. "Some of you may be able to get out. If . . . two . . . maybe three 'Mechs follow me, we could hold them long enough, justlong enough, for the rest of you to board ship and go."
"Grayson Death Carlyle... if you are suggesting that Ileave you to face all of them!”
Grayson chuckled. "The thought hadcrossed my mind, Lori, along with the thought of knocking you unconscious, tying you up, and tossing you aboard the Phoboslike a side of frozen meat. But you'll notice I didn't suggest it."
"It's a damn good thing you didn't,or you'd have to take meon, along with our friends over there. I'm in this with you,you idiot!"
"You always did show terrible judgement, my love."
There was another long silence. "Grayson," Lori said softly. "I love you."
"And I love you," he said, but the endearment was almost matter-of-fact as Grayson studied his instrumentation. "Range, nine hundred meters, and closing" were his next words.
* * *
"Company, sir!"
King looked up from the computer console. The Special Ops corporal, Janice Taylor, had leaned into the library door with the warning. The TK assault rifle clutched in her hand was pointed at the ceiling, a fresh magazine of caseless 3 mm rounds rammed home, a second 80-round magazine taped upside down to the first to allow her to change quickly when the first ran dry.
"What is it?" He had found the Star League computer easy to activate, easy to understand. Its long-dead programmers must have assumed that its operators might not have the same grasp of programing mechanics as they did. Step-by-step instructions had led him to co
* * *
Program: Copyall Complete: 23%
As he watched, the figures changed to read "24%." He had tried to imagine just how much information, in bits and bytes, was being manipulated silently within the library computer's framework.
"I don't know, sir, but we can hear people working on the other side of the Wall. Corby thinks they may be setting explosives."
King sagged back in the seat. No! It was too soon!
"I'm afraid I have no advice to offer," he said. "If it comes to combat, that's your department."