Way Of The Clans

"Cadet Aidan," Alexander said, "your neurohelmet will now be activated. The first sensations may be a bit disconcerting, but as you know, these will diminish with further use of the equipment. Are you ready?"

"Ready, sir."

One of the pleasures of this phase of the training was that the regulation against cadets addressing officers was relaxed. They were, in fact, encouraged to speak freely. Aidan suspected that the practice was motivated as much by psychology as it was born of the necessity for instant communication between cadet and trainer. After all the repressiveness of their previous training, the cadets could now draw confidence from the fact that officers considered them worth listening to. "Neurohelmet . . . activated!"

The moment Aidan heard the word, a sudden, almost deafening hum seemed to surround him. At the same moment, his head began to throb from a pain that felt like electric shock. His vision blurred. He felt like he was going to pass out.

"Easy, cadet," came Alexander's calm voice. "We all feel disoriented the first time. That is why we check you out on the neurohelmet in a test chamber. In a 'Mech, you would be too dizzy to control balance, and it would go kerplop, face-up in the mud."

There were several staticky sounds in his ear, which Aidan knew were Alexander making adjustments on the electronics of the neurohelmet. Momentarily Aidan felt downhearted. Until now, everything involved in ru

"I can see that certain adjustments still need to be made," Alexander a

Great, Aidan thought, maybe you would like to reach in and rearrange my brain matter while you are at it.

"Shut your eyes," Alexander continued, "and concentrate on a world lovely in its colors in a slow orbit around a distant sun. See the rich hues almost in a pattern on the planet's surface, the suggestion of orange rivers and yellow mountains. A village, blue-ski

Alexander went on in this vein, speaking very softly, and Aidan found he could visualize the scene the man was describing. It made him feel better. An odd pain was still in his head, but the hum was slowly weakening. He thought he could smell sea brine, but that must have been some effect of the neurohelmet on his brain.

"All right, now," Alexander said. "Concentrate again on the neurohelmet. Are you yet in pain, cadet?"

"It is fine now."

"No bravado here. The cockpit is the one place where you must maintain common sense. The bravery is what you do with the 'Mech, not some empty need to show others how courageous you are by not admitting discomfort. I know that the neurohelmet is not fully adjusted. It never is on my first try. Now, are you in pain?"

"Some. But it is better. And there is a hum, a . . ."

"Yes. We know about the hum. It has never been defined, but we can eliminate it. It will come back at times, and chances are you will not notice it. Some believe that a pilot may be harmed by it, gradually losing hearing. That I know nothing about. The half-deaf pilots I have seen are few. Techs more often suffer hearing loss in their jobs."

Inadvertently, Aidan glanced back at Nomad, who seemed drowsy. Of course, he was not wearing a headset and did not hear anything that Alexander said.

"Go back in your mind to that village. If you like, you might imagine a troop of young maidens all come to serve you, the heroic pilot who has come with his BattleMech to save them."

"Why should I think such outrageous thoughts?"

He heard a soft laugh from Alexander. "Oh, you are another of the unimaginative cadets? The Clan does not turn out romantics, does it? Do you not dream?"

"Well, yes, I do, sir."

"And do your dreams bear any relationship to your ordinary day?"

"They do not. They are filled with fantasies."

"And you are not comfortable with fantasies, I surmise."

"Well, yes, that is true."

"I have found great uses for imagination. It is even useful for battle strategies, even for unimaginative Clan warriors. Cultivate it, cadet. It may save you some day."

"Yes, sir."

"At any rate, I have made some more adjustments while we talked and the neurohelmet may be more comfortable now."

"Sir?"

"You may call me Falconer Alexander, or just Alexander."

"This is difficult when you are just a voice in my ear and I do not know you in any other way."

"And you never will. I never meet cadets of the Jade Falcon or any other Clan. I am an untouchable."

The man's words were as dizzying as the contact with the neurohelmet, especially as he followed them with a weird chuckle.

"I do not understand, Alexander."

"You were not meant to. You see, I am not of the Clan, or rather I am a Clansman from the other side of the bed."

In confusion Aidan shook his head, trying to clear it so that he could comprehend Alexander's words. But the action was a mistake. Something in the neurohelmet was affected by it. The hum increased and he felt a sudden twinge of mild pain in his head.

"Easy now, cadet. I can see you still need some fine-tuning in getting used to the helmet, quiaff?"

"Aff. Alexander, what did you mean about being an untouchable?"

"Just a fancy allusion, boy. What I mean is that I do not really belong. I was a bondsman, snatched off a Periphery vessel by Clan Jade Falcon. Through many misadventures, and some truly painful hard labor as the slave that a bondsman can be, my abilities were discovered and I was welcomed into the Tech caste. But somehow I remain close to my origins as a citizen of the Periphery, and you Clansmen will always be a mystery to me."

"Perhaps you are the mystery, Alexander."

Alexander's sigh was audible over the commlink. "That was impressive, cadet. Very unClanlike, that comment."

"I do not know what you mean."

"Of course you do not. You know nothing but the Clan, quiaff?"

"Aff. I think so, anyway. I know mostly the life of the sibko and the trainee."

"Well, there is much to come. I envy you."

"Why?"

Alexander's voice suddenly switched from soothing to irritable.

"Stop asking questions, boy. We have work to do."

During the course of a long morning, Alexander worked with Aidan and the neurohelmet, making—it seemed to Aidan—many adjustments. But soon it felt better. He felt no pain and the hum was barely noticeable.

After, he asked Nomad about Alexander.

"Heard of him," Nomad said. "Keeps to himself. Says things no one understands. Odd person. I do not like unusual people."

That seemed to close the discussion. After the introductory sessions with the neurohelmet, Aidan never heard of Alexander again.

* * *

All four remaining members of Aidan's sibko qualified on the neurohelmet during that day. Falconer Joa