Falcon Guard

Aidan knew that Melanie Truit thought him somewhat naive, but he was not so naive as to confide to a ComStar official about the tracer signal on his person.

"I can do it. That is all."

"Why do you hesitate then? I have heard that Clan warriors place little value on their own lives, so it ca

"First of all, the destruction of this place would serve no purpose, so all other methods must be tested first."

"Oh?" said Truit. "I know the Clan does not believe in waste, but that pertains only to Clan matters, Clan people, Clan property, does it not? Do you mean to say that it is the Clan way to protect the enemy from waste? I would like to know the real reason for your hesitation, Aidan Pryde."

For all Melanie Truit's plain-speaking ways, Aidan was not so inclined to speak frankly with her. He knew how devious ComStar officials were reputed to be. Then he realized that it made little difference here and now. With the two of them held captive in a rebel community, and with no present possibility of escape, what did it matter if the Demi-Precentor were devious?

"It is the children," he said, pointing to the now-restless young ones gathered around and beneath the legs of the AgroMech. Some of them whined, others cried, a few only whimpered complaints. The silent child was the rarity.

"The children? But haven't you told me that the Clans have no special feeling for children, their own or anyone else's?"

He nodded. "Yes, but it is not that simple. We are children, of course, in the sibko."

"Sibko?"

"Sibling company. The warrior caste is, as you know, genetically engineered. A number of young are born at one time and are raised together in early childhood. As we demonstrate our specific abilities, the weaker members of the sibko are weeded out, assigned roles in other castes. The sibkin who survive the warrior training are considered the fittest to become Clan warriors. But even among those survivors, more will fail and flush out of the sibko at various points along the way of training. Only a few of us make it to the Trial of Position, where we qualify or do not qualify as warriors."

It was politic, he decided, not to tell her about his own failure in the Trial of Position. It was not so much to keep it a secret, but to avoid the complicated task of explaining his years of posing as a freeborn after he had qualified in his second Trial. The story was so long and involved that Jared Mahoney would probably have blown up the town square and them with it long before Aidan could conclude the tale.

"I have heard something of your customs," Melanie Truit said, "but not about the impersonality of your childhoods."

"Impersonality?"

"You say you are children in the sibko. Yet it sounds as though these sibkin are so dedicated to warrior goals that they experience little or no life as real children. You are so, well, controlledthat you could never imagine what it means to be a child, much less what it means to know the bond with a parent."

"The warriors of the Clans regard parenthood and the terms related to it as near-obscenities. Why would one want to be a child like those huddled around the AgroMech? Look how much they whine and cry. They seem to be continually complaining."

"You too would complain, Star Colonel, if you were held captive but had no understanding of why or what it meant. You must at least admit that this situation is a stressful one for these children."

"That may be so, but I have seen lower-caste Clan young as well as I

"The purpose of childhood, Aidan Pryde, is to be a child. The I

"There is never a question of choice. Of course we want to be warriors."

"I would much prefer the life of any of these ordinary children to being a child in one of your sibkos."

Aidan was shocked by her words. But Melanie Truit was not Clan, so how could she understand what it meant to him? How could he convey to someone outside the Clans what it meant to be a member of one?

"Do you understand the sentiments that pass between these children and these adults?" he asked.

"Yes. Yes, I do. I have a child, though he is almost grown now. He lives on Terra. Unfortunately, he hopes to become a MechWarrior. He might still outgrow the desire, and I sincerely hope he does."

"Are you trying to provoke me, Melanie Truit?"

"A bit."

"You seem to hate war."

"What sensible person would favor war?"

"Is there nothing for which you would fight? Your child, perhaps?"

"If attacked, yes. But I would not be an aggressor."

"And is your pacifism an expression of the philosophy of ComStar?"

"I ca

"I find ComStar a puzzle. Neutral, with a powerful army. Pacifistic, with military preparedness."

"Recall that I told you what I would do. ComStar is a vast network with its own rites and rituals."

"Do you hate the Clans the way the people of Vreeport do?"

"I am neutral here also."

"But what are your personal sentiments?"

"The Clans seemed hateful when I first encountered them. You, however, are an exception."

"Perhaps we can discuss this more, after we return from here. Tonight."

"I will be happy to. And does that satisfy your need to take the initiative?"

"In truth, yes."

Jared Mahoney, who had been conferring with some of his subordinates, was approaching them again. He had changed weapons and was now carrying a small automatic rifle. He cradled it in his arms lovingly, almost the way some of the adults about the AgroMech were holding their children.

"Our patience is ru

"No."

"Then it is time to kill another hostage." Mahoney glanced toward the group of Clan and ComStar hostages, then shook his head and turned toward the AgroMech.

"Some of the children are from Clan tech families," he said softly. "Perhaps it is time to kill one of them."

He gestured toward the AgroMech, and one of the rebels grabbed a tow-headed boy and dragged him forward. Tears edged from the boy's eyes, but he stood silent and defiant before the barrel of Jared Mahoney's rifle.

"It will not disturb you to see a child killed?" the rebel leader demanded, glancing back at Aidan.

Aidan refused to answer, but Demi-Precentor Truit rose from her chair. "You bastard!" she screamed. "You can't—"

Before she could finish her thought, Jared Mahoney had whirled around, raising the automatic rifle, pointing it at her. The next instant he coolly squeezed the trigger and let off a round at Melanie Truit. Her face seemed to explode outward with blood and bone, then she dropped in a heap to the ground.

Too late, Aidan jumped to his feet, his arms thrust out in a motion he could not stop.