The Invidious,then, would be guarded, either by the Duke's men or by Hendrik's. But the key to getting the starship was the DropShip still squatting on the tarmac of Trellwan's spaceport. A pilot — and Tor was the only pilot Grayson knew on the planet — just might be able to take an assault force close enough to storm the freighter.
The alternative was to remain on Trellwan until another ship called at port. With Duke Ricol in charge of the planet, it was unlikely that anyone would arrive except other ships in the service of the Draco Combine.
The third alternative was to remain in the city, where they would doubtless be hunted down and killed. Or, they could flee to the deep desert or to the wilderness beyond the mountains by the equatorial sea. There they might expect to live a few weeks or months until their food ran out, until their power systems failed, and the weather or the metal-poisoned water killed them.
If they tried for a ship, at least they had a chance of surviving. Grayson was anxious to meet with Tor again, so that they could discuss the possibilities.
* * * *
Duke Hassid Alexander Ricol looked up across steepled fingers at his warleader. "Well, Singh? What do you have to report?"
Singh stood at attention before his master, attired in a fauldess black dress uniform with the blue collar and cuff tabs of the Draconian Special Forces. The Duke still wore his custom-tailored red uniform, heavy with the gold and braid that he personally found so tasteless, but that never failed to impress status-minded locals. His own office reflected his true tastes, an almost Spartan simplicity relieved only by an extravagantly wall-sized three-D holovid of a mountain stream, blue skies, and forest green. The stream foamed and splashed its way into a pool, endlessly rippling. It occupied one side wall of the office where Ricol could watch its continuing animation.
The wall behind his desk bore a topological map of the local region of Trellwan, from south of Sarghad to the southern shores of the Grimheld Sea along the equator. The map was dominated by the twisting, tightly spaced elevation contours of the mountains north and east of the city.
"The situation in the city is satisfactory, Lord. Stannic and his people are in command, the Militia has been mostly disbanded, and our people are in control of the major communications and government centers."
"What do you mean, 'mostly disbanded'?"
"There was resistance to the order to disband, of course. Some units fought. Some are still fighting. I dispatched one Lance to the Palace area to quell the riots there."
"Dammit, Singh, we can't have protracted fighting down there! The whole purpose of this mission is to secure Trellwan as a friendly outpost, not as a conquered and garrisoned one! This miserable ball of excrement is of no use to us at all if we must fight to hold it!"
"Y-yes, Lord. I assure you, the incidents have been minor."
"'Minor.' And what of the Trells' ‘Mechs?"
"Ah... yes, Lord." Sweat was standing out on Singh's face, now. He had served Duke Ricol for fifteen standard years, and still dreaded the man's wrath. "Two of the locals' 'Mechs have been taken by the rebels, my Lord, the Locustand the Wasp.We have taken a second Waspthat apparently has been used as a source of spare parts. Its head is missing, as well as its weapons. The Stingerthey captured from us is missing..."
"Which means someone has taken it to the mountains as well."
"The... the mountains, Lord?"
Ricol smiled unpleasantly, and swivelled his chair about to take in the area map with a careless sweep of his hand. "Where else? There's nothing to the south or west but endless desert and mineral flats. If they want to stay out of our reach, they'll assemble in the mountains somewhere, off to the north." He leaned closer to the map, peering. "There's a major pass there, a few kilometers north of here..."
"Thunder Rift, my Lord. I've been there, and checked it out The floor of the Rift is submerged in a glacial lake. There would be no passage there."
"Hmm, I wonder. 'Mechs can travel underwater. Slowly, to be sure, but they could make it."
"Of course, Lord."
"And the small fleet of military hovercraft that have vanished in the past 20 hours could skim across on the lake's surface."
"Yes, Lord, but the north end of that lake spills out in a series of waterfalls that drop a hundred meters or more into the Grimheld sea. Also, the lake itself receives a seasonal waterfall of considerable power that is just about to begin at this season. There will be no escape for them in THAT direction."
"Hmm... good... good." The Duke swung back to face his subordinate, his hand scratching at the base of his heavy black beard. "I want those rebels, Singh. Dead or alive, I want them."
"Are they really so important, Lord?"
"One of them is. This Commonwealther you've told me about, young Carlyle. If he were to survive, to get off planet, he might piece together enough of what has happened here. He could turn the Commonwealth's eyes toward Trellwan again, bring a relief fleet before we were ready to meet them. Singh, think of it! A sweep in on Tharkad from a base deep within their own Periphery that they don't even yet suspect. Complete surprise!
"If Carlyle warns them, our advantage is lost, and we are reduced to defending an otherwise insignificant ball of rock blessed with unusually wretched weather, and for no good purpose at all. This world is useless as a base without the advantage of surprise!"
"Yes, my Lord."
Ricol turned back to the map and studied it for several moments. "You have helicopters?"
"I do, my Lord. Four are down for repairs, but there are a pair of Warrior H-7attack ships, and a KarnavUR transport. We have been using them for reconnaissance flights and for quick trips between the Castle and the port."
"I can contribute two more Warriors.Not enough for that jagged wilderness, but they will have to do." He pointed to the mountains north of Mount Gayal, then to the plains and mountain foothills to the east. "I want these areas patrolled, starting at once. Something as large as three BattleMechs should be easy enough to spot even in rugged terrain, and they MUST be there. There is no other intelligent choice for them. When we find them, we'll flush them out with two or three 'Mech Lances. We'll take them wherever they hide. And Carlyle will die."
"Yes, my Lord."
"See to it Singh. I have work to do."
Singh saluted, fist raised to heart, then snapped it up and out, stiff-fingered. Ricol turned his attention to a small computer screen on his desk.
Carlyle was an unexpected complication in the Plan, but it was such complications that added spice to the Great Hunt. Perhaps the Red Hunter himself would lead the ground pursuit of these rebels. It had been too long since he had personally taken the con of a 'Mech in battle. The thought stirred Ricol's blood, and brought a dark smile to his bearded face.
25
As the Locustproceeded up the rambling eastern slopes of Mount Gayal, the ground became progressively rockier and more broken. Trellwan's fierce, week-long storms had gouged out deep gullies that twisted and wound down the mountainsides. It was still dark, but the eastern sky showed a hint of pearl gray along the horizon, marking the beginning of Trellwan's long twilight. Sunrise was still two standard days away. Though still night, the temperature was rising, and had been ever since Far Passage a week before. Snow clouds hovered above the mountains, and the icy peaks glinted in the predawn light