Far Country Read online

  He looked up at the circle of faces that surrounded him in the headquarters bunker. "We must move slowly," he said. "There is much that we can do here, but we must lead these people away from their hostility to the true path of harmony. We must become the moral exemplars they seem to have lacked. But we must go slowly. We must build a society that the Draconis Combine, should they ever find us, would be proud to call its own."

  His statement was greeted by stunned silence. "Like hell we will," said Vost, who promptly turned on his heel and stomped out of the bunker.

  18

  Dawn came gray, as much because of the low-hanging clouds and misting rain as because of the mood in the camp. Even the campfires seemed unable to blaze brightly. Sodden, sullen, gray.

  The weather matched Takuda's humor exactly. He sat in the earthen command bunker, pushed back into the corner farthest from the low opening. The darkest corner, to match his mood.

  The events of the evening had come as a surprise. Not just Vost's reaction, which he should have expected. Even the reaction of the others should have been predictable. The one who had surprised Takuda most was himself. He had no idea what had made him suddenly proclaim the idea of serving as moral exemplars to the planet's inhabitants. The words coming out of his mouth had been a shock even to him. Never in his life had he thought of himself in that way. It was against his heredity and his training. He sat and thought about what had happened.

  His musings were interrupted by So-cho Saitan Yura, who stood before him, waiting for the DEST commander to acknowledge his presence. But Takuda felt no pressing need to do so. He would acknowledge the senior sergeant when he was ready. If the sergeant's mission had been really urgent, the man would have announced himself. Takuda looked up and scrutinized the professional soldier.

  Saitan Yura had spent his whole adult life in the forces of the Draconis Combine. There was no way of telling how old he was, his face was as smooth as a young man's. Yet Takuda knew that some of the so-cho's decorations dated from campaigns of forty years earlier. He had been in the service as long as Takuda had been alive. "Yes, So-cho. You wished to see me?"

  "Pilot Vb6t has requested to speak to you."

  "A request? Pilot Vost has never been so formal with me before. This must be important. Did he say anything to indicate what it might be?"

  "No, Sho-sa," said Yura. "The lights burned late in the hull of the DropShip last night, but there were no sounds of working."

  It was typical of the senior sergeant, thought Takuda, to offer information without comment. The mercenaries must have been talking, but the sergeant could not know that directly and so he would not venture a supposition. He gave only what he knew. "Is he waiting for me now?" Takuda asked.

  "Yes, Sho-sa. He and the rest of his mercenaries are outside."

  Takuda nodded. Rising to his feet, he felt the stiffness in his joints. It was hell getting old. Men of his culture were supposed to be able to sit in the lotus position for hours without discomfort, a feat Takuda had never been able to master. Even as a young man he'd found sitting in chairs much preferable to sitting cross-legged on the floor. He waited a moment for his joints to stop protesting. He was not going to let Vost see him hobbling.

  The mercenary commander was waiting for Takuda, who could see that the meeting, called formally by Vost, was going to be confrontational. The mercenary leader had brought along all his people to add weight to whatever argument he was about to make. The sho-sa glanced around to see which of his own people were in the area. It would be an admission of weakness for him to call the whole team together, but he wouldn't mind having some support if needed.

  Yura was still at his side, standing one pace to the rear and two to his left, where he would remain until released. The so-cho had sensed the strain in the air, and would support his commander. Clustered on top of the bunker were the three members of the team's heavy weapons section. Gun-so Ariake Sanae was demonstrating the correct method of field-stripping a Pleno-Hamata short-range missile launcher. The weapon had some distinctive characteristics that required special attention, but Takuda was sure that everyone in the heavy weapons section, as well as every other member of the DEST team, was completely familiar with those idiosyncrasies. Sanae had probably decided to hold the class on top of the command bunker for reasons that went well beyond training.

  Gun-so Ariake Sanae was a mystery to her commander. Of all the people on his team she was the one about whom Takuda knew the least. That she was competent was not in doubt; no one could become a member of the DEST special forces who was not. But she remained an enigma. Tall, willowy, and with a face cut from alabaster, she seemed to exist in a world of her own. As far as Takuda knew, she had no close friends among the rest of the team, not even Andi Holland, who made friends with everyone. Sanae ran the heavy weapons section firmly, fairly and with high professional standards. She observed all the religious rituals with punctilious accuracy. And that was all Takuda knew. The other two members of the section had taken on some of her characteristics.

  Because heavy weapons people seldom functioned as a team, they tended to be loners. Certainly Gun-so Ariake Sanae was. Go-cho Oite Inaduma, the team's antitank expert, also fit the mold. Even though he'd been decorated for bravery more than any member of the team, they had been more acts of individual heroism than sacrifice for another. Thus, Inaduma was a three-time recipient of the Bushido Blade, and had even been recommended for the Order of the Dragon, but had never been mentioned for the White Starburst. The Starburst was bestowed on those who saved the lives of other soldiers or civilians through their heroism. Inaduma was more likely to go it alone in combat, stalking armored fighting vehicles or 'Mechs for the sheer pleasure of it. Some would call that Tiolhardy rather than brave.

  Joto hei Johan Miranda was the team sniper, and he had the sniper mentality. Once he had remained in an open field for twelve hours without moving in order to get a kill. Absolutely stationary even to the point of not emptying his bladder. Not only was the man a model of self-discipline, he was also the best marksman Takuda had ever seen. The stalking kill was his specialty, but he could fire on the move as well. Takuda had once seen Miranda shooting rats from the hip, hitting them through the eyes as the little beasts scampered from their nests. He'd done that, the man later explained, because hitting their bodies would have ruined the meat.

  With his weapons people on the command bunker and Yura behind him, Takuda faced Garber Vost.

  "I've been thinking about what you said yesterday," Vost began in his most polite and servile manner, "and you just may be right."

  Takuda, braced for a fierce attack, was astonished by this abrupt change from the mercenary's usual sneering bravado. He recovered quickly, determined to remain on guard. He waited for the other shoe to drop.

  "There is no reason why we should not be teachers to these people," continued Vost. "Not only do we have weapons that make us superior, but we also have the benefit of five hundred years of society's traditions, which these people obviously lack. That they have fragmented into warring enclaves is foolish. They would have been much better off working together in peace and harmony."

  Takuda nodded but did not speak, sensing that Vost was planning to take this line of thought in another direction entirely. Another motive was lurking in there somewhere.

  "Harmony is very important," said Vost, standing with his hands clasped behind his back rather than in the usual hands-on-hips pose. "It is what we should all strive to achieve in our interpersonal relationships as well as in the greater relationships between cities and states. It is the most noble of all life's goals."

  "I agree with you, Pilot Vost. Harmony is important, even though life also demands of us duty, honor, and loyalty. But, yes, harmony is a high ideal."

  "If we are to teach harmony to the people of Osio, Amatukaze, and Usugumo, would it not be appropriate for harmony to exist among those who would lead the way?" Vost was smiling a soft, winsome smile, the very essence of what he spoke.


  "A most noble thought, Pilot Vost."

  "You should call me Garber, Sho-sa Takuda."

  "Thank you, Pilot Vost." Takuda had no wish to encourage familiarity. Vost was quite familiar enough already. "I'm glad you have decided to support the wishes of the whole team in our dealings with the other humans. And the aliens as well." Takuda threw in the mention of the Tetatae to make sure Vost understood that more was at stake than just the enclaves. He saw Vost flinch at the mention of the Tetatae. Good, Takuda thought. Perhaps he will be a little off balance.

  Vost hardly missed a beat. "And you agree that to achieve harmony we must do the greatest good for the greatest number. Yes?" Vost nodded as he spoke. It was an old rhetorical trick, and whether Vost was aware of doing it or not, he accomplished it to perfection. The first part of the trick came in telling the listener what he wanted to hear. This was accented by nodding the head in agreement with one's own statements.

  "Good for the greatest number is important." Takuda knew the rhetorical tricks even if Vost did not. He cut to the point. "Where is this going?"

  "If we are to do the greatest good for the greatest number, perhaps we should ask the number what they want. I suggest that the program you proposed yesterday be put forward along with any other proposals. Then we let the people who will be affected have their say in the matter."

  "I agree," said Collis Brank, stepping forward. "I say we listen to all of it and then vote on what to do."

  "And are there other matters on which we should take a vote, Pilot Vost?" Takuda's eyes narrowed; he could see the point of the meeting coming closer.

  "Well, now that you mention it, yes. Perhaps we should decide, by vote, of course, who is to be the leader of this group."

  "Do you have someone in mind?"

  "I'd like to put forward the name of Reston Bannin."

  "And I'd like to put forward the name of Garber Vost," interjected Brank.

  "And of course your name as well, Sho-sa Takuda," said Vost with a smile.

  '"And then all of us would stand for election," said Takuda. "Is that your plan? And then the new leader would tell us all what to do about the humans and the aliens. Is that it?"

  "I think you've got it," said Vost. He put his hands on his hips.

  It was a clever plan, thought Takuda. There were eleven members of the DEST team and only ten mercenaries. That would seem to assure Takuda's victory in any election. But the mercenaries had signed on with Vost because they believed their interests lay with him, so there was no reason to think that they wouldn't do so again. That would leave the decision in the hands of the ship crews. With Bannin's name in the pot, they might be assumed to go that way, but Takuda could not be sure. The crew members would be willing to vote, but hardly likely to want to throw their votes away on a sure loser. Vost would need only a couple of their votes to become the group's acknowledged leader. The mercenary had obviously been doing some politicking during the night and knew what kind of support he could muster.

  "I say we take a vote right now," said Collis Brank. "Let's get it over with it so we can get on with other things."

  Neatly done, thought Takuda. There would be no time for him to talk to the ship crews even if he were so inclined. They'd used the argument about harmony to trap him. Very neat. He couldn't think of any way to get out of the situation without establishing himself as a dictator. Though he didn't want to do that, he was equally unwilling to see Vost take absolute power in the group. Yura would say nothing to interfere with what was happening. Takuda was trapped, and he knew it.

  "Like all good ideas," came the voice of Johan Miranda from the top of the command bunker, "your thoughts have much merit, Pilot Vost." Takuda turned to face the weapons team on the roof behind him. Was Miranda going to desert him? he wondered. "I would suggest," continued the team sniper, "that we all do some thinking about it. There is no need to make a decision immediately. Wouldn't you agree?" Miranda was sitting cross-legged in the dirt, a position that was not ostensibly very intimidating, yet a very stable one from which to shoot. The sniper cradled his Zeus heavy rifle in his lap, his meaning quite clear.

  Vost looked startled by the comment. His hands dropped from his hips and he took a step backward into Brank, who had been sheltering behind him. "That's fine for now," he said with a soft snarl. "But it will happen sooner or later. Count on it."

  19

  Vost was angry, as angry as he had ever been in his life. He stomped his way back to the DropShip. Not even the soft cooing of Michelle Guardine, his current inamorata, could deflect his anger. He swept her aside with a wave of an arm, and she crept away bruised and chagrined. Meanwhile, Vost ground his teeth and plotted. The other mercenaries stood around at a respectful distance and waited for the inevitable explosion. "We'll just have to blow that bastard away," announced Vost. "We get the 'Mechs out of the blasted ship and just blow him and the rest of his team away."

  Elizabeth Hoond, first mate of the abandoned JumpShip Telendine, inched forward from the circle. "I've been looking at the interior of the DropShip. Based on what we've done, and what needs to be done, we could have the 'Mechs out in about two days."

  "We could blast our way out," interjected Kendall Pesht. The mood among the mercenaries was changing. They were beginning to see possibilities rather than problems.

  "They'd hear us," said Hoond. "They have a guard posted all night, supposedly to protect us from the aliens. The guard would be sure to alert the others. 'Mechs don't blast anything without making some noise."

  "So they hear us," said Vost. "So what? If we move quickly, we can have some or all the 'Mechs out of the hold before the DEST crud can react. The 'Mechs have I/R sensors. We can see in the dark."

  "So can they," put in Collis Brank. "Infantry weapons in the hands of normal troops are hopeless against 'Mechs, but we're up against a DEST team. They're specially trained for anti-'Mech work. They love it. And they have special weapons for the job. Have you ever seen what well-handled infantry weapons can do to a 'Mech at close range?" Brank shuddered. "That SRM launcher they were working on today can fire infernos. And they've got 'em. I've seen them. The last thing I want is to be in any 'Mech that gets hit by an inferno."

  The other pilots nodded agreement. Fire was one of a MechWarrior's great terrors. The thought of being trapped inside a 'Mech cockpit while the machine burned to death was every 'Mech pilot's nightmare. There were too many stories of pilots incinerated, too many stories that began, 'I had a friend who ...," then ended with how that someone had been unable to fight free of the flames and unable to eject because the fire had disabled the machine's ejection mechanism.

  "Then we take out the SRMs," said Vost. "We've got to get the weapons people first. And Takuda. Decapitate the team. Get him, and the rest won't know what to do. By then we'll be out and running things. Blow them all away."

  Vost folded his arms in contemplation of the thought. "Just think of it," he mused. "We take out the DEST team, and then we have it all. We can cut any deal we want with any of the enclaves. We go with the highest bidder. Not the strongest, but the one who gives us the most. We can run this place for as long as we want. We'll be so powerful, nothing can stop us. Tell 'em, Seagroves. Tell 'em about the enclaves. From a MechWarrior's point of view. What do we need to know about them?"

  All heads turned toward Brian Seagroves. Of the mercenaries, he was the only one who had seen the enclaves, the only one who could speak with authority. The big man shuffled forward. At last he would be the center of attention, as he deserved. "They're weak," he said. "They have complex defensive works, but none of it means anything. Lots of walls and ditches. They don't even have abatis. The only thing their defenses are designed to stop are really weak ground forces. They don't have anything that can stop a 'Mech. We'd walk right through them. And they don't have anything that flies. Nothing. There's something in their culture, their legends, that says they mustn't fly. Maybe someone has tried it, but they don't permit it anymore. With the LAM and t
he Panther's jump ability, we can scare hell out of anyone. We win every time."

  "As long as none of the DEST gets involved," said Vost.

  "So we take care of DEST." Seagroves was angry at being interrupted. This was his show, and he didn't need Vost interfering. Seagroves had already decided which enclave he was going to join: that of the Usugumo. They were the ones with the money, the gold. He didn't care about fighting for a bunch of militaristic types. He'd had enough of Takuda and the way his people followed orders. Hard to corrupt those stiff-necked types. The religious fanatics of Amatukaze were just as bad, rigid in another way. No, he'd go with Usugumo no matter what the others decided. And he didn't have to listen to Vost pontificate about making choices. "We go with the best offer. I'm done with people who don't understand the value of money." He turned on Vost and glared at him. "From what I saw, the merchants are in the most need. We go with them and be done with it."

  Vost was surprised by this speech. Seagroves, usually so docile, was suddenly showing traits that could lead to problems down the road. He'd have to be more careful in dealing with the LAM pilot in the future. But he knew which button to push for Seagroves. Money was all the man cared for, a fact Vost would use to his own advantage. He waited now to see if Seagroves was done. When the LAM pilot said no more, the mercenary leader spoke again. "Pesht, Goodall, Brank. Check your 'Mechs. See what needs to be done to get them free. Not completely free. Just enough so that they can blast their way out of the cargo hold. Take your techs with you.

  "Guardine, check my 'Mech. Make sure the jump packs are clear to fire. I can take the Panther out through the top of the opening. Seagroves, I've got a special job for you." He turned to the LAM pilot.

  "You're the only one who's free right now," Vost said conspiratorially, taking Seagroves by the elbow in a show of brotherhood and good faith. "When all this goes down, you'll have to play the lead. We can't do anything without you." Vost saw Seagroves visibly swell at the compliment. This guy is so transparent, he thought. I can play him like a cheap harp. "When I give the word, you hit their command bunker with the lasers and the machine guns. Just blow it away."