Main Event

"I understand. I've fought against the Clans, and I know what they're capable of doing. I would also do anything to keep the war from spilling into Borghese."

Crenshaw relaxed. Morgain was now on his side. He smiled and reached out to pat the younger man's knee. "Just like your father. You love your homeland." What a lie, thought Crenshaw. Power and money are all the boy cares about.

Crenshaw leaned back in the chair and motioned Morgain to pour himself another brandy. While he did so, Crenshaw continued speaking.

"I believe we can prevent a war, despite what that fool Cooke has already done. Can I count on you to help?" Crenshaw already knew the answer, but if he could get Morgain to verbalize his position it would seem more like his own idea.

"Of course. Tell me how I can help." Crenshaw hid his smile as Morgain crossed back to his chair, his glass filled to the rim.

"The Council controls the militia. If someone threatens war, the Council can keep the reins on any hothead who wants to start shooting. Since I control the Council—or will after tomorrow's appointments—I can keep the militia from starting something. But. ..."

"But the mercenaries," interrupted Salander.

Crenshaw bit his lip. He hated to be interrupted. He smiled through clenched teeth and continued. "But the mercenaries are beyond my control. I've tried to talk with Rose on several occasions, but he refuses to see me except during the Council sessions. If the Clans arrive before the end of his contract, he'll definitely try to fight them." Crenshaw let his words sink in.

"The Clans would be forced to fight back and who knows where it would end," blurted Morgain. Crenshaw nodded solemnly.

"We have to stop him." Crenshaw continued nodding as Morgain set the half-full glass back on the table. He looked at Crenshaw and started to speak, then stopped, his mouth hanging open.

"That's what you need me for, isn't it? I'm the only one who can stop Rose."

Crenshaw considered his options. Morgain's statement was not exactly true, but it was close enough. He looked at the young Mech Warrior and decided to be a little more circumspect than he'd originally pla

"I don't want you to stop Rose. I'm hoping it won't come to that. What we, the Preservationists, need is someone with a military background to support our cause.

"You've been very outspoken in your views about what to do when the Clans come. Although I haven't always agreed with you, I respected your conviction. But consider the cost of resistance. Destruction like you saw while fighting with the Federated Commonwealth army. Do you really want that for your home? Could you live with that, knowing that the damage and death could have been avoided?"

Crenshaw leaned forward and impaled Morgain with his stare. Long moments passed, then the younger man shook his head.

"Of course you couldn't. I understand, son, how much home means to you.

"All you need do is support the no-resistance policy that I'll be proposing to the Council in the next week. If you were the first private citizen to a

Morgain cupped his face in his hands. Seeing that the MechWarrior had swallowed the hook, Crenshaw decided that now it was time to pull.

"Just like your father." Morgain's head snapped up. Crenshaw knew he was looking for any trace of deception, but it was too easy to fool the drunken young man. His face was a neutral mask, but his eyes told Crenshaw everything.

"What about the mercenaries' gear?" Morgain tried to sound disinterested, but failed completely. "Somebody will have to be responsible for it."

"I can think of nobody more qualified than yourself. The machines matter little to me or to the other members of my group. Consider them yours." Crenshaw could practically see the C-bills flashing in Salander's eyes. He reeled in his catch as he stood up and extended his bony right hand.

"Glad to have you on board, Hauptma

Morgain looked up at the hand and slowly stood to shake it.

"Now, if you don't mind. It's getting late for an old man like me. Why don't I have my chauffeur drive you back to your estate? You can sleep on the way."

Crenshaw summoned the butler, who woke the chauffeur, who brought the limousine around to the front of the house. Crenshaw said good night and stood watching until the car was out of sight. Then he returned to the study, where another man had taken Morgain's chair.

"You hear?" he asked, flopping back into his chair.

"I heard."

Crenshaw regarded the man, who wore a look of extreme boredom. The man steepled his fingers and placed his index fingers to his chin in concentration.

"We should move tonight."

Crenshaw shook his head. "It's too soon. If anything goes wrong on your end, it could affect the Council's voting tomorrow. Wait until tomorrow night. By then, I'll be in control of the Council and you can be on your way."

The man tapped his fingers against his chin. Crenshaw could see that he didn't like the idea, but that eventually he'd accept it.

"Young Morgain behaved just as you predicted."

Crenshaw laughed with true delight for the first time that evening. "Thank you, but it really wasn't hard to predict. When you discovered the truth of his war record, all I had to do was put that together with what I already knew about him. Greed and insecurity, what a pitiful combination."

"We had best make sure nobody else finds out about Morgain's past. If the rest of Borghese ever learned that he was cashiered for involvement in the black market, his credibility would drop to zero."

"Believe me," said Crenshaw, rubbing his eyes, "nobody knows that better than I. Fortunately, the only people who know the truth are you, me, and the Records Department on Tharkad. None of whom are likely to volunteer the information.

"We're safe on this one. Besides, Morgain's credibility only has to last another few months. After that, who cares what happens to him?"

The man opposite Crenshaw frowned, then nodded. The two sat in silence for a moment, then Crenshaw stood. "I'm going to bed," he a

When his guest didn't move, Crenshaw began heading for the doorway.

"And Hoffbrowse, lock the door on your way out."

25

Houston, Borghese

13 June 3055

As Zenos Cooke predicted, the new members of the Council were chosen by Crenshaw and his supporters. Although the final replacements could only be elected by popular vote, the Council could make temporary appointments. Only a simple majority was needed for approval because the time actually served by the Council members was so short.

The first candidate seemed to be planted firmly in the middle of the road. Though Calvin Washington was better known for his lavish parties than for his political views, Cooke decided that the man was as good a candidate as he was going to get. In his acceptance speech, Washington promised to work hard, listen to the people he represented, and weigh each decision carefully. He was appointed by a five-to-zero margin.

The second man practically arrived at the meeting in the same car as Crenshaw. During the initial speeches, he declared himself a member of the Preservationists. Despite vehement objections from Cooke, the Council elected Ermando Rashimaln by a vote of three to two. When Washington's hand went up in affirmation even before Crenshaw's, Cooke knew he'd been duped. De Vilbis abstained from voting, which was allowed, but very unusual. Voters expected their representatives to vote on issues, not sit and watch them go by.