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"This . . . this ..." Garth sputtered, then brought his tongue under control. "This Adept has no authority here, Colonel!"
"Perhaps," Langsdorf said, in a low, almost deadly calm tone. "But I think I'd like to hear what he has to say."
Larabee pointed toward the battle plain. "Colonel, this whole operation was mounted to destroy the Gray Death, an outlaw mercenary regiment"
"Yes."
"But they're not outlaws! The city of Tiantan on Sirius V was destroyed on the orders of Precentor Rachan! This whole thing was hisdoing! Heis the outlaw!"
"Lies ..." Garth began, but the Adept cut him off.
"We met a senior Tech in the caverns, trying to save a Star League library."
"Library?" Kleider looked startled. "What library? What does a library have to do with this?"
"Everything! Rachan brought me and my brothers here to copy the data stored in a Star League computer, and he pla
"Seize him!"Garth screamed. A Marik soldier reached for the Adept, who twisted away. A second soldier swung his rifle, knocking Larabee to the ground, senseless.
"Stop!" Langsdorf barked, bringing his sidearm, a large-caliber automatic pistol, out of its holster. "Everyone, stop!"
Kleider pointed toward the battle. "Listen, man! Never mind this lunatic! The mercenary force is falling apart. Only six of them still on their feet! One more charge and you've won! Won!"
Langsdorf eyed Kleider bleakly. "Won? Won what, General?"
"Why, victory, man! A glorious victory!"
Langsdorf's gorge rose in his throat, almost making him sick. He pushed past the general and started toward his Warhammer.
"Langsdorf! Where are you going!"
"To give my orders, General." He grasped the rungs of the 'Mech's ladder.
"Excellent! Excellent! I suggest you use your BattleMechs to crush their line, then press on to the DropShips. Your infantry can deal with the survivors! My congratulations, Colonel ... on your gloriousvictory !”
The word made Langsdorf pause, two meters above the ground. He hung there a moment, swaying on the ladder, looking down at Garth and Kleider. "No, General. There is no gloryhere. And no victory!"
"What do you mean?" Kleider shouted.
"I mean, General, that I will not order what is left of my forces to charge. The battle is over. I will not throw away more of my men . . . not for you." He glanced over at Garth, who stood in the Warhammer'sshadow, a dumbfounded look on his fat face. "And certainly not for him!"
* * *
Rachan lay on his back in the dark. The fire that had consumed the library was almost gone now, and the only real light filtered in through the smoke and dust from the smashed-open entrance to the tomb. He had regained his senses and found himself alone. The Marik soldiers who had survived the insane attack by the young merc soldier and the Archerhe had commandeered from Langsdorf's encampment were gone. The troopers must have assumed he was dead and left him here, helpless in the dark.
When he tried to get up, his leg was a leaden, useless thing that pi
He heard a noise, a deep and echoing sound from the darkness. He reached out, scrabbling through broken rock, looking for his laser. Suppose the mercenaries were coming back? Suppose they found him? They knew that it was he who had placed the blame for Tiantan on them. If they found him . . . alive . . .
The sound came again, and Rachan stopped searching for the laser. That noise was nothing made by men. It sounded like the roar of some monstrous subterranean animal, echoing up out of the dark. The floor of the cavern moved, and Rachan shrieked in agony. The movement had been sharp enough to twist his leg, reawakening the torture that seemed ready to tear the limb from his body.
The roar sounded again, lower, deeper, a rumbling that went on and on and set the broken stones to quivering and jittering all around the wounded man.
* * *
The fleet of Prime Movers made their way across the river flats toward the battered group of 'Mechs. Grayson watched them from his Marauder,but could muster no emotion. It was as though he watched from an enormous distance, remote and detached.
"I said, this is Ricol!" The voice on Grayson's general frequency repeated itself. "Have your people ready for pick-up!"
Grayson turned his Marauderback toward the north. The enemy 'Mechs were . . . withdrawing. Withdrawing!But another charge would have been certain to overwhelm the remaining Gray Death 'Mechs. Only five 'Mechs still stood with him. His command lance had been wiped out, with the 'Mechs of Lori, Delmar Clay, and Davis McCall all out of action. Fortunately, the pilots had all been picked up, exhausted but unhurt.
Though Khaled's Warhammerwas down, he was alive, but wounded. The two recruits were dead, their Stingerssmashed or exploded. What were their names? Morley and Brodenson. Grayson remembered their faces at the briefing . . . one excited, the other terrified. Neither emotion touched them now.
Koga, Bear, and Sharyl stood to his right. DeVillar and Kent stood on his left. All of the surviving 'Mechs were battered and smashed to the point where they could barely stand. Koga's Archerwas out of missiles and had lost two medium lasers. Grayson's own Marauderwas out of autoca
One more charge by the enemy 'Mechs and what was left of the Gray Death Legion would have been smashed flat.
He tried to concentrate on Ricol's words, still coming over the radio. "We're picking up the damaged 'Mechs, Grayson. Our commtechs on the DropShips have confirmed it. Langsdorf is pulling back. We picked up his order. They're retreating. You've won, Grayson! You've won!"
He looked through his Marauder'sforward screen. The tough plastic had been cracked by a near-miss from an enemy missile. Three bodies lay sprawled in the mud a few meters in front of him, infantrymen cut down by machine gun fire as they'd tried to get close enough to an enemy Waspto attack it with satchel charges.
Strange, thought Grayson. It doesn't feel like victory.
The feedback through his neurohelmet brought a strange, queasy sensation through his middle ear. He worked with his controls a moment, trying to isolate the problem.
Three must be battle damage to theMarauder 's sensors,he decided. It feels like the ground is moving.
* * *
Colonel Langsdorf sat in his Warhammer'scockpit, struggling with the heavy machine's controls. His neurohelmet was transmitting sensations of vertigo and unsteadiness through his middle ear, sensations that made him feel as though the ground were shifting beneath his BattleMech's feet.
Soldiers were ru