"Don't worry," Grayson said as he clicked the pistol's safety back on and tucked the weapon back into his belt "I have." He didn't tell her that his experience with
Marauderswas limited to time spent in the simulators of his father's unit. Why worry her? It
shouldbe
The shouts outside were louder now. Bullets whanged and keened off the Marauder'sarmor. Those Techs would know of the damage to the forward screen, would be telling marksmen where to aim. A high-powered rifle bullet expending energy as it bounced back and forth inside the narrow cockpit could chew both of them to bloody rags in a few horrible seconds.
He sat in the seat ignoring the stains. Two major hurdles remained. He ran his fingers across the instrument panel, depressing plastic touch plates and flicking switches to "on". Somewhere deep in the bowels of the huge machine, powers woke and uncoiled, grumbling. Green readouts winked on in uneven patterns across the board. They had crossed the first hurdle. The Marauder'spower systems were operational.
He hesitated a moment men reached for the neurohelmet suspended overhead by its webbing of power feeds and circuitry. This was the big hurdle. If the Marauderwas still keyed to Kevlavic's brain waves, it would be impossible to steal the machine. Grayson knew, though, that BattleMechs hanging in the racks for repair generally had the coded sequences in their computer interlocks opened so that the Techs and astechs could run test programs and check the operational controls and circuit overrides. He'd been able to steal his own ShadowHawkfrom a Kurita repair facility on Trellwan because the Techs had not yet recoded the ‘Mech's computer. That's what he was counting on now.
A bullet sang off the cockpit's outer armor, a hand's breadth from the jagged hole. Another struck, close by the first.
He brought the helmet down onto his head, taking the cushioned yoke onto his shoulders. He hesitated again as he checked the power readouts on his panel. It was possible to booby-trap a BattleMech against would-be thieves, as well as to lock it up with codes. Several thousand volts searing through the brain would abruptly end any thoughts of hijacking someone else's ‘Mech.
There was only one way to find out. He reached out and opened the ‘Mech's helmet-computer interface.
Dizziness twisted at his head and stomachy and strange sensations tugged at his inner ears, but the protective charge of high-voltage current did not flow. His hands gently eased vernier dials, as oddly doubled waveforms on an oscilloscope blended, merged, then steadied into a single trace. The dizziness vanished, and Grayson was one with the machine.
He did a rapid check of circuits and weaponry. As near as he could tell, the only damage to the ‘Mech was the hole in the forward screen. There could be additional, unmarked damage to some vital circuit or lead, but there was no quick or simple way to check that out. Grayson brought the visor down across his eyes, and told Lori to grab hold of something solid where she stood behind him. Then he brought his hands down on the primary controls.
The computer interface took advantage of Grayson's own sense of balance. It read the signals relayed to his brain from his own inner ear and translated them into gentle surges of power to selected actuators, transforming the ‘Mech's motion from the stiffness of an automaton to the fluid moves of a living being. Feedback from sensors located at points across the ‘Mech's legs and torso were fed back through Grayson’s inner ear, replacing his own sense of balance with that of his 75-ton mount. In no sense did the BattleMech become his body, but man and machine did blend in the same way a horse and rider team might have done in an earlier, less bloodstained era.
The Marauderstraightened against the binding constraints of the gantry framework. Steel pipe and titanium-vanadium alloy struts snapped free of mountings, spitting sheared bolts across the room like high-powered rifle bullets. Part of the structure collapsed with a resounding clang, and the Marauderstepped forward, scattering the gantry's skeleton like a wind-blasted house of cards.
* * * *
Machine gun fire from the ‘Mech service area across the courtyard had ceased moments before, though Ramage could still hear shouts and racketing gunfire from inside the building in that direction. He wasn't sure what was happening, but perhaps the mixed force of commandos and armed ex-captives could use the diversion, whatever it was, to pull back from their positions and withdraw to the tunnel.
If only Grayson would show up. Ramage didn't want to leave without him, but the Verthandian prisoners had stopped coming out of the tower's sublevels ten minutes before, and none of them had seen the Gray Death's commander.
Ramage didn't want to believe that the young man who had built the Gray Death from rags and odd ends on Trellwan was dead. At the moment, however, he didn't see what else tobelieve.
He looked about him. The commandos had seized most of the courtyard and still held it, but half of their number were dead or wounded. The command would not survive another determined assault Curiously, the enemy ‘Mechs at the courtyard gates had departed. He eyed the massive steel gates uncertainly. It couldbe that the ‘Mechs had been unable to break through, but one of the commandos had told him that the Combine ‘Mechs had swept those gates aside like cardboard during the University riots.
If that were so, why hadn't they attacked? What else could they be planning?
A chirruping from the transceiver at his belt interrupted his circling thoughts. He snatched the device to his mouth and opened the channel. "Ramage."
"Clay here. Sergeant. We're coming in."
"What? What do you mean?"
"We've got a full company of Kurita ‘Mechs, pretty near! They've circled around the AgroMech factory and are moving in fast! There's no way to go but...down the tunnel!"
Ramage digested this bit of information. So, that was where the ‘Mechs had gone. They must have suspected that the Gray Death BattleMechs were waiting outside, and so had circled about to catch them in a trap. Those ‘Mechs were more important targets than a few dozen commandos trapped in the rubble of the University courtyard—especially when ‘Mechs and commandos could be dispatched at one time with a little patience and a well-timed maneuver.
"Cray! This is Ramage! If you come in here, you'll be trapped!" He couldn't believe that the enemy ‘Mechs had left the courtyard gate unguarded. More Kurita ‘Mechs would be out there, perhaps unseen in the tangle of Regis' streets, but ready to rush the gates when the time came. "Do you hear me? Don't come in! Scatter north, and save yourselves!"
'Too late," Clay replied. "They came down on us from three directions at once and hemmed us in. If we show ourselves outside the factory, We're dead meat." The transmission was garbled by the hiss of a nearby explosion. "Archers"he said. "They're starting to shell the factory! We're coming through before we're trapped in the rubble. Maybe we can figure things out once we're inside!"
"Right. Come on through!" Ramage opened his combat transmitter and spread the word. He didn't want an anti- ‘Mech team burning down friendly BattleMechs as they emerged unexpectedly from the tunnel.
"Sergeant!" A soldier tugged at his sleeve, pointing across the rubble barricade. "Something's coming out of the service area!"
He twisted around to see, and fought the panic that rose gibbering at the back of his throat. Lumbering from the dark cavern of the repair facility it was a Marauder,70 tons of deadly fighting steel.
"God," he said. "They've been holding back in there, waiting for us! That monster is going to trap our ‘Mechs as they come up out of the tunnel!"