‘But what I said is true!’
Laughing, Romano turned away to greet another flurry of incoming guests.
A few minutes later, freed at last, Tormana headed across the huge room toward the bar. He knew that was where he was likely to find his troops, probably in costumes as hastily thrown together as his own. The orchestra was playing background music now. but soon there would be dancing, a form of combat at which he did not excel. He wanted to collect his MechWarriors and escape before Candace made him waltz.
Halfway there, amid a press of revelers, a hand caught his arm and a woman's voice said, ‘Tormana, talk with me.’
He stopped and looked down to see a diminutive white-haired woman in a black monk's robe smiling up at him with unreadable eyes. She was, among other things, the Director of the Maskirovka, the Capellan secret police. She was also his godmother, but they'd not been close for years., He bowed. ‘Lady Ling.’ The old woman bowed lower than he and held it longer, as though gently reproving his careless manners. Then she caught his hands in hers. ‘How brown you've grown since you went away. Tormana! And something about your face is harder. Yet I still look at you and see your poor mother's eyes, clear as a child's. Or is that an illusion?’ Her obsidian eyes studied his face with an intensity that belied her light manner. ‘Let's go where we can talk.’
‘Actually,’ Tormana said, trying to get his hands back without seeming rude. ‘I'm not planning to stay much longer. I've got an early liftoff tomorrow.’
‘You can't go yet! All the young ladies would blame Candace! Don't you know you're the most eligible bachelor here?’
He laughed. ‘A disinherited younger son? An exiled Mandrinn? All I really am these days is a warrior from a very unglamorous regiment.’ With a touch of defiance, he added, ‘Besides, I'm no bachelor. Hanya No Cha will always be my wife.’
‘Strange how she disappeared. In all the years since then, have you learned nothing?’ She released his hands. ‘Your father wants a son who knows his place. Not one who criticizes his policies and marries a dissident. Nor a son who insults his guests. You really must apologize to Mr. Bentley, you know. Your father plans to take you back into his good graces and make you the Duke of Bandora. If you don't apologize, Bentley will think the Chancellor put you up to the insult’
‘But the man's son isa jackal!’ Tormana muttered before doing a double-take. ‘Father's giving me another title? Why?’
‘To reward his loyal and cooperative son.’ The old woman stared intently into his eyes. ‘And he will have a cooperative son from now on.’
The young MechWarrior made a sound halfway between laughter and a cry of pain. ‘You know I love my father. But I'll be damned if I'll divorce my wife or kiss up to his slimy friends! Not for all the titles in the House of Scions!’
Lady Ling drew in her breath with a sharp hiss. 'Tormana! What can you gain by this contest of wills with your father? Whatever your game is—’
‘I'm not playing a game!’ Tormana shouted. Around them, conversations broke off as people turned to stare. He stared back, waiting till they dropped their eyes and returned to their own affairs, then added in a lower voice, ‘All my life, everyone has assumed that because I'm a Liao. I must be up to something. Well, I'm sick of it! That's why I joined the army. On Kali, there's no room or need for any sort of double-dealing. I'm becoming a good officer and I'm damn good in a 'Mech, and that's all my men care about. Frankly, it's almost all I care about, too.’
‘For once. godson. Use your head!’ Lady Ling's voice dropped to a whisper. ‘This day is your last chance to regain your father's good will. Your very last chance.’
‘The price is too high. I don't want it.’ With a deep, formal bow to his godmother, Tormana Liao turned on his heel and cut through the crowd, heading for the door.
Kali (Algol System)
Tikonov Commonality
Capellan Confederation
21 January3026
The four stars collectively known as Algol rode low in the purple sky of Kali. Belial and Bael were blue-white plnheads, close together like the eyes of a snake. Ahriman was a red dot sinking through the haze, and yellowish Asmo-day trailed behind it, scarcely brighter than a planet. Under these cheerless lights, the cliffs around Warex Base glittered like the night a million chips of volcanic glass flashing in black stone.
A BattleMech strode away from the domes of the base toward one of the canyons that pierced the valley's rim. It was a Vindicator,nine meters tall, with a particle projection cannon in place of its right forearm. Bright metal glinted through its dull black paint in random scrapes and scars. On the upper part of its right arm were three painted symbols: the black falcon of the regiment, the fist and sword of House Liao, and a red-gold heart surrounded by flames.
Tormana crossed the valley as quickly as he could without actually throwing his Mech into a run. It was the quiet shift at Warex Base, when more than half the battalion slept He'd told Sheila Po, his Tech, that he was going for a walk around the valley to check the booby traps at the canyon mouths, and to get the feel of his Mech again after three weeks away from it This was a partial truth. He would check the booby traps when he returned. If Sheila or anyone else noticed him leaving the valley, they'd insist on sending an escort with him, or want to know why not. And he couldn't lie to his troops. So he walked faster.
Six hours after the Thunderfisthad set down with Tormana and his new MechWarriors. a note had come sliding under hts office door. Below a set of coordinates was the message, ‘Come alone when Ahriman sets.’ It was signed with a sketch of a heart surrounded by flames. The symbol of Brazen Heart.
Brazen Heart was not on any of the star maps. It was a prison colony in the Sarna Commonality, a fierce desert world reserved for political dissidents Tormana's wife had been born there. When the Chancellor annulled their marriage and Tormana feared for her life, she had returned home, smuggled by a secret group whose symbol, like that of the planet, was a burning heart. He had not seen Hanya in five years. Sometimes he received word, through a friend in the Sam Reserves, that she was well.
It disturbed him that the underground had an agent at Warex Base. Dissidents were all right Spies were not. He would have to find out who it was.
As he stepped over the tripwire at the canyon entrance, his gaze fell on two pictures clipped to the side of his instrument panel. One was a snapshot of Hanya. Seated on a sofa with a computer terminal in her hand, she was looking up at the camera with a surprised grin. The other was a holoportrait of the Chancellor in his court robes, glaring sternly into space. ‘Sorry, Father,’ Tormana said, unclippmg the portrait and turning it face down. ‘What you don't know won't hurt me.’
The coordinates in the note were some 60 kilometers west of Warex Base. In the Vindicator,in this terrain, that was a four-hour walk. At least he didn't have to worry about overheating. Kati was a cold planet. What little moisture the volcanoes threw out condensed and froze every night, filling the darkness with the snap and boom of cracking rocks. Kali would not have been warm enough to support even that brief humidity, if not for the greenhouse effect. Its atmosphere was mostly carbon dioxide and nitrogen, and about 10 percent argon because of the radioactive ores. A rich mining colony had been evacuated because of the frequent raids.
The map on the Vindicator'stactical screen was a maze of blue lines indicating passable canyons, highlighted by splashes of red that were volcanic vents. It could not show everything, of course, but he knew the area well enough to find shortcuts. Tormana estimated he would make his appointment with half an hour to spare.