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He had given the Hounds everything they had asked for, both under normal interrogation and again when some nameless bastard who stank of the Clans started using chemical interrogation techniques. Nelson had a sneaking suspicion that the Cla
The guards split apart as they approached a set of double doors that swung open and admitted Nelson to a briefing room. At the head of a long oaken table sat Colonel Allard and at his right was a young man in Clan leathers. Seated on Allard's left was the Cla
Dan Allard pointed at the lone chair at the nearer end of the table. "Please be seated, Kommandant Geist. We apologize for putting you through an ordeal, but our need is urgent."
Nelson lowered himself carefully into the chair, resisting the desire to slump in exhaustion. "I appreciate your concern, Colonel. For the most part I have not found the experience unpleasant, but I would not want to repeat it." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "I want to help, and I've told you everything I can. Give me a 'Mech and I'll repay my debts to you and the Red Corsair in full."
As Nelson looked around at the men and lone woman seated in front of him, the MechWarriors among them shied from eye contact— even the Cla
Dan shook his head. "No, Kommandant, this is not a trial. It is an informal hearing, convened to let you know where you stand and to explain why we have reached the decisions we have made concerning you." Dan glanced at the man to his left. "Star Colonel Ward fervently believes you are a Trojan horse full of disinformation designed to cripple our efforts to stop the Red Corsair. Conversely, Major Kell here is willing to make a place for you in his battalion."
Chris Kell's warm smile shielded Nelson from the icy glare the older Cla
Dan shook his head. "I am undecided. I think you are a fine warrior and I would be happy to have someone of your caliber in my command. Conal Ward, Khan Phelan Ward, and Dr. Kendall have reservations that make me approach you cautiously."
Nelson's gaze flicked past Khan Phelan and settled on the petite, black-haired woman sitting around the corner of the table from the Khan. I remember her.Dim recollections of the woman visiting him while he was still in the throes of a chemical interrogation returned slowly. She said her name was Susan. I thought she was a dream.
She adjusted her glasses and met his stare. "In our interview I learned some things that concern me, Kommandant. Mind you, none of these matters are pathological, and with proper therapy, I think you should recover fully. ..."
"The only therapy I need, Doctor, is to be strapped into a 'Mech with the Red Corsair in my sights."
Nelson's growl reinforced the smile on Chris Kell's face, but that did not stop Doctor Kendall. "The Stockholm syndrome was first identified nearly eleven hundred years ago as a hostage's identification with his captors. It is a form of adaptation that is quite normal in a highly stressful situation like the one in which you found yourself."
Nelson leaned back and raised his right fist. "This manacle marked me a slave, Doctor, not a hostage. This kept me apart from the bandits. There was no identificationwith them."
Conal Ward's head came up. "Is that so, Nelson? You were the Red Corsair's lover. I hardly see a wall there."
"That was different."
"Was it?"
"Yes." Anger and rage shook him. "She was an obsession. I hated her, yet I could not resist her. I'm sure the doctor here can tell you that I was punishing myself or compensating for my half-hand or something like that. I don't know and I don't care. All I know is that I still hate her and if she's ever in my crosshairs, she will become only a memory."
As he finished speaking, Nelson realized he was gripping the steel link on his wrist and rotating it with his maimed hand. Glancing down, he saw blood begin to seep up through the abrasions. When he looked up again, he saw Kendall shaking her head.
"You obsess about more than the Red Corsair, Kommandant Geist. That manacle, for example." She glanced down at the small noteputer in front of her. "You have steadfastly refused to let us remove it from your wrist."
"It's not what you think. I do not cling to this as a way-of identifying with the bandits." Nelson dropped his gaze, then continued in a subdued voice. "When it hit me that I had abandoned my people—Spider and the others—when I escaped from the Tigress,I decided to continue to wear this constantly as a reminder of my obligation to them."
He looked up and straight at Colonel Allard. "You can understand that, can't you? In a moment of madness I forgot about them. I got away, thinking only of myself. But I owe it to them to help free them, which is why I need a 'Mech."
"I understand, Kommandant, and I understand your rejection of Dr. Kendall's assessment of you." Dan frowned, then shook his head. "As much as I want to believe you, and dobelieve you, I ca
Anger jolted through Nelson. "Forgive me, sir, but if you believe me, and if I have convinced you that I am not in thrall to the bandits, why not? I'm able, very able." He held up his left hand. "Don't let this fool you. I can handle a 'Mech."
Khan Phelan leaned forward slowly. "We are well aware of that, Kommandant, which is precisely why you will not be given a 'Mech."
"I don't understand."
The Clan Khan's eyes narrowed. "Computer, play back 55.04.30, Yeguas 3.1, Slot 7."
The computer complied, and above the polished surface of the table a holographic display of a battle took shape. Nelson recognized the surface of Cue Ball, but realized he was seeing the engagement from the Wolf Clan perspective. As he watched, the viewpoint 'Mech went bounding forward toward a BattleMaster.The holographs began to waver as the 'Mech began to have trouble. When the BattleMasterfired its PPCs, however, the diagnostic subtrack started to report incredible damage.
"Isolate and magnify BattleMaster'sgu
"That is a fair bit down the road, Khan Phelan." The white-haired Kell Hound leader turned back to Nelson. "You are under house arrest for the time being, Kommandant, but anything you require, within reason, will be made available to you."
"But not a 'Mech?"
"I'm sorry, no."
"Why not just take me out and have me shot?" If I ca
Conal's head come up. "That is myrecommendation, quisling."