Inside the Locust,it was hot and growing hotter. Lori had boosted the power output of the 'Mech's reactor as the terrain grew steeper, and the heat sinks were struggling to keep up with the system's waste heat Grayson had propped open both the inner seal and the outer hatch, but the opening was not enough to cool the cockpit. He'd long since removed his uniform jacket and shirt, and Lori was down to a light, short-sleeved pullover and her briefs. Sweat beaded her face under the neural helmet, and molded the shirt to each swell and curve of her torso. Her legs were long and sleek.
It was hard not to notice how attractive she was, even in the heat of that cramped cockpit.
Lori turned her head and caught Grayson's gaze. "Forget it, Lieutenant," she said. She sounded tired. "I'm not interested."
"Neither am I, Sergeant. Neither am I. Just drive, huh?"
Grayson thought he detected a flash of hurt in Lori's eyes before she turned back to face the IR imaging screen. The Locustcontinued climbing, its broad, flanged feet making their way on the treacherous ground using Lori's own sense of balance.
A warning light flashed on the console.
"Aircraft," Lori said. "Coming in from the south... low and fast"
"O.K. We make like a rock." He reached behind him and pulled the hatch shut cutting off the trace of cold air seeping in from outside. "Shut down the sinks."
The Locusthunkered down, its back-canted legs folding under to lower the cockpit to within a few meters of the ground. As they sank to earth, the surrounding boulders seemed to rise from the ground all around them, sheltering them. With the heat sinks closed off, the 'Mech was no longer dumping excess heat into the cold atmosphere. Its hull would still be hotter than the surrounding boulders and detectable on an infra-red scanner, but geysering plumes of heat would no longer act like white-hot flares to attract a searcher's attention.
They waited. Though the Locustwas no longer moving, the power plant was still running, and there was no way to rid the machine of heat. The temperature soared to 45 degrees. Grayson allowed Lori and himself a swallow of tepid water from the cockpit water tank, and mopped his face with his shirt. How much longer would this go on? Lori didn't look like she could take much more; She sat slouched in the seat, her hand on the 'Mech's machine gun controls, her eyes half-closed and her lips parted.
"Do you want me to take the controls awhile, Sergeant?" Despite himself, he whispered. There was no way that helicopter could detect their voices, but the sense of an enemy very close, listening, was hard to fight.
She shook her head. "No. I'd rather... be DOING something. Anything."
He nodded, and sagged against the support of an overhead handhold. If only there were room in the cramped, space for him to sit down, too...
The imager revealed the aircraft —, a lean, streamlined Warriorhelicopter. Grayson could make out the missile pods extended from the craft's flanks. It passed them, hugging the terrain as it moved up the flank of the mountain two kilometers to the east of their hiding place.
"Didn't see us," Lori said unnecessarily.
"Give it a moment. It was moving too fast to have a ground party following, but there might be a second aircraft"
Fortunately for Lori and Grayson, there was not After a small eternity of sweltering stillness, she opened wide the Mech's heat dumps, and the machine levered to its feet and resumed its climb.
To the north, a narrow ridge spur connected Gayal with the main body of the mountains. The Locust'scourse had taken it along the eastern flank of Gayal on the far side of the Castle, then up the ridge and along its crest. From this vantage point, they could look southwest across the valley and see the lights of the spaceport spread beyond the Castle. Beyond that were the day-brilliant lights of Sarghad.
They paused there while Grayson used the 'Mech's telephoto starlight optical scanners to zoom in on the activity at the spaceport. Even without magnification, he could see frantic activity there. Two DropShips had grounded. Huge, massive, and squat, they were larger than the Invidious'DropShip, which crouched by itself in a far corner of the field. Movement was dimly visible around the base of each ship, and the silvery specks of hovercraft and other vehicles could be made out against the darker ferrocrete. At full magnification, Grayson and Lori could see steam being vented from the ships in the glare of the port lights, and the silent, purposeful confusion of repair and refueling operations. Orderly rows of troops moved among the crisscross of gantry struts and loading platforms, and Grayson counted at least twelve 'Mechs of various types and weights drawn up as if for inspection.
He zeroed in on the age-streaked body of the Invidious'DropShip. "That's our key to getting off this planet," he told Lori. "We have to figure out a way to take her, and then use her to take the starship."
"If the starship is still there to be taken. What are they doing? It looks like they're loading her."
Grayson agreed. He was at the very limit of resolution for the Locust'soptics, but it appeared that a number of people were moving up a ramp into the DropShip's holds. Vehicles seemed to be loading crates or containers of some sort, and there was an air of purposeful activity that Grayson knew marked preparations for a launch.
"We'll have to hurry if we want to catch a ride on THAT one," he said. "Looks like they're planning to lift — and soon."
"We'd have to do something quickly anyway. In another 60 hours it'll be daylight."
"And then 30 standard days until it's dark again." He pulled at one ear thoughtfully.
They were rapidly running out of options.
* * * *
The temperature within the cavern of Thunder Rift was somewhat warmer than the near-zero chill outside. The thunder for which it was named had not yet begun, but a steady spatter of milky droplets trickled from the mass of ice and snow that could be faintly made out at the Rift's opening far above. The steady, rhythmic patter of droplets falling into the black water below filled the cavern with cold, wet echoes, and the promise of the roar of an avalanche of water when the Thirday thaw began.
For the past 20 hours, the remnants and tatters of the First Trellwan Lancers had been wandering in from the dark and cold in a ragged stream. Grayson had Lori and Sergeant Ramage moving among them, taking a census and trying to bring some order to the confusion. Fires burned along the shores of the lake, each with its own cluster of men and women in Militia fatigues or, rarely, the green of the Royal Guard. Beyond the warm glow of the fires, sentries moved among the predawn shadows, watching for the approach of the enemy.
So far, the Lancers could muster a Waspand the Locust,and radio contact had been made with the Stinger,which was just now coming across the ridge north of Gayal. The combined strength of the two combat companies was 51 men, while 23 astechs from the support company had made it through. Also present were the vehicles the refugees had arrived in — five armed HVWCs, a pair of HVTs, and half a dozen scout hovercraft.
It was hardly a well-equipped fighting force. Most of the combat troops had brought their weapons, but the group had almost no food. Many did not have cold weather gear and were half-frozen by their trek up from Sarghad in open-topped hovercraft. Ammunition was in short supply for the projectile weapons, and backpack chargers for the handful of laser weapons would have to be charged off the hovercraft power plants, for there were no portable generators at all.
Renfred Tor had arrived aboard one of the hover transports. He walked with Grayson along the lakeshore some distance away from the campfires. The movements of individuals near the fires cast gigantic, misshapen shadows across the waterworn surfaces of the Rift walls.