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‘It's obvious.’ said the other man. ‘You shamed Edgar Bentley's son. The kid wants revenge, but Bentley senior doesn't want your father to know who really killed you. Not with everything so cozy between your father and Michael Hasek-Davion.’
‘But my father hates House Davion!’
‘What a novice you are! Your father is a bitter enemy of Hanse Davion, the Prince, but he has a secret treaty with Duke Michael. That's why the assassins are wearing the insignia of one of the Prince's pet regiments—so Hanse will get the blame for killing you.’
‘A treaty with Duke Michael? After the things he's done to our kinsmen in the Capellan March? Never!’
Laughter echoed down the phone line. 'A Liao wouldn't say that, my friend. I wouldn't say it'
The great moon Ratra poked her horns above the horizon as they stopped on a ridge eight kilometers west of Warex Base. Not quite two hours had passed since they'd set out. Both 'Mechs had lost some armor on the rocky slides, and their leg actuators screeched with every step. The gray Mech had a broken finger, and the black seemed to have a boulder stuck in its foot; it wouldn't set down flat
‘That canyon down there should be the way they come, unless they're totally lost,’ Tormana said. 'We can kill them here.’
‘How?’
Tormana shifted the beam of his spotlight. ‘See that flat spot on the floor, next to the far wall? A booby trap. There's a huge cave underneath it, and the ceiling is rotten. We patched it with a thin layer of ferrocrete and painted it black. All we have to do is herd them over there, then shoot the wall above them. It's riddled with explosives. The wall falls, the ground collapses, and the invaders are buried.’
‘That's great, except how are we going to herd them all onto that one spot? If we start shooting at them, they'll just spread out and shoot back.’
‘Not if we use Kali's Torch.’
‘'Kali's Torch?’'
‘The argon in the atmosphere. It's concentrated down in the canyons. Fire a PPC into it. and it lights up.’
‘It explodes?’
‘No. It lights up. like a neon sign. Looks like a secret weapon. I don't think the Davion forces know about it.’ The black Mech pointed. ‘See how the wall bends here? If we get about three hundred meters apart, we can probably catch them in a crossfire. We'll catch them in a triangle, with you firing from one side, and me firing from one side, and the booby trap on the third side.’
‘All right. Give me my phone cord, and let's get set up.’
‘One more thing. As soon as we blow that cliff, our truce is off. So tell me your Maskirovka passwords now.’
Ten minutes later, the two Mechs were 150 meters apart on the jagged ridge, hidden behind its crest except for their heads and right arms. A flash of light around a bend in the canyon a
Twenty-one BattleMechs headlights bobbing in the darkness, came walking up the canyon. The impact of their steps rattled through rock and metal, and Tormana felt it as a faint vibration in the controls under his hand. He glanced across the canyon at the silhouette of the far wall against the sky. A deep notch marked the booby trap. When they came even with that, he would shoot.
They were almost even with the imposters position now.
Trying to keep the Vindicator'shead low, he pulled one metal knee onto the crest ot the ridge. They were not expecting an ambush. With any luck, they would not be sca
The black Vindicator'sknee screeched.
One of the enemy 'Mechs stopped. A voice broke into the radio static. ‘Hey, Bent! There's something—’
The imposter fired. Blue lightning licked out from the muzzle of his PPC. lashing the canyon floor behind the invaders. In the next instant, a blue forest fire burst up from the stones and danced in flickering, interweaving sheets 15 meters high, sweeping across the canyon toward the flock of birdlike machines. Most of them ran, filling the ether with curses and screams of terror. One paused long enough to fire a laser at the blue fire; it had no effect. He ran, too.
They were even with the notch. Aiming his laser at the cliff under the gray Vindicator,Tormana fired.
There was a flare of white light. The black Mech clung desperately to the ridge as the wall under his enemy burst outward into the air above the canyon. He glimpsed the gray Mech tumbling through the air. wildly firing its Jets, trying even now to save itself amid the massive chunks of falling cliff. At the same moment, the entire canyon floor gave way, and the radio filled the cockpit with screams.
A few of the enemy were still screaming when he flipped the switch to shut off the sound. More explosions followed, as several power plants were crushed. Debris rained against the cockpit, and the wall bucked like a wild horse. Eyes tightly shut, he sank his nails into the arms of his seat as his Mech hung onto the shuddering ridge
After a while, the dust settled.
Amid a shower of loosened rocks. Tormana climbed down from the cliff, and down farther, into the pit. His lights, sweeping the piles of rubble, picked out gleams of metal here and there. A lot of equipment could be salvaged from these 'Mechs, but not tonight.
The gray 'Mech was near the top of a slope, pi
Planting a giant metal foot on top of the other 'Mech's ca
The man in the gray BattfeMech was not quite dead. Tormana reached into the cockpit and pulled him out. There was another body squeezed in there, but Maclean had been dead for quite awhile.
Because of the environmental suit, there was no spilled blood, but the man's right arm and the right side of his chest were crushed. Pulling the helmet off the shivering form, Tormana gazed into his own face, twisted with agony. The brown eyes seemed to focus on him for a moment.
With difficulty, as though he were moving his arm against ten gravities, Tormana lifted his gun, and fired.
‘You believed in our truce,’ he said to the dead man. ‘And damn me, I thought like a Liao.’
DANCE OF VENGEANCE
-William H. Keith, Jr.
‘And I say that you, Lord Garreth, are a coward, a liar, and a murderer. It was you who betrayed my father...had him murdered to keep the secret.’
The buzz of conversation and the clink of bottles and glasses dropped away to silence as the nobles scattered about the ornate hall turned to watch the two men standing at the door.
Salvadore Tyrell knew with grim certainty that his words meant death. Garreth's polite smile had faded, replaced by the flushed skin and bared teeth of rage. Even his knuckles showed white against the pommel of the ceremonial wakizashiat his belt.
‘And you, insect...what business have you here, in this convocation of your betters?’
Salvadore let out his breath slowly. He must retain control. He must!
‘I seek your death. Lord Garreth. I claim vendetta for the murder of my father.’
The silence that had descended over the room at Salvador's first words to Garreth had been one of curiosity and expectancy. The silence that gripped the hall now was one of shock. By publicly challenging Lord Garreth. he, Salvadore Tyrell. had stepped well beyond the accepted boundaries for proper behavior within the noble classes of House Kurita.
‘Captain Tyrellf’ a voice barked from across the hall. ‘What are you doing here?’