Dead? Parsons was no fool. He would want to know the circumstances. Only if Sergio cooperated could they endure another visit by the Envoy. And she had to find out why Parsons brought a BattleMech to Mirach. The best reason she could think of was that Parsons brought it as a gift. Let Sergio make a fine speech—and then let Tortorelli accept the powerful fighting machine for his Home Guard.
Then it no longer mattered what Sergio said or who he contacted.
Sergio Ortega was toothless, thanks to his foolish acquiescence in transferring command of the FCL. His once capable guard had been dismantled and scattered all over Mirach. Elora couldn’t help smiling as she thought of the fate of their captain. Manfred Leclerc had been blasted into ions with the destruction of the DropShip. That simple act of sabotage alone had advanced her cause dramatically.
But Sergio Ortega kept his secret comm lines, no matter how closely she spied. She would have ordered him to a prison cell if it hadn’t been for Parsons’ return. Mirach needed more than a Governor. It needed the same Governor the Envoy had spoken to on his prior visit.
“What of the MBA?” Tortorelli asked unexpectedly. The change in subject forced Elora to refocus.
“They have Mining-, Agro– and other IndustrialMechs all refitted. I’ve sent reporters out to gather better intel on their armament and disposition, but they are stonewalling me. Agitating the populace against the MBA isn’t enough now. If you can get the BattleMech Parsons is presenting to you into the field quickly enough, it can destroy the MBA modifieds in short order.”
“When does Parsons land?” Tortorelli asked.
Elora checked her screens and saw a countdown running. She smiled broadly.
“Within the hour,” she said. “We will greet him as he lands and find how he wishes to transfer control of the BattleMech. If he insists that the Governor be present, I’m sure we can find some way to convince Sergio.”
“Drugs? For all his prattling about being a pacifist, he is still quite a fighter,” said Tortorelli. “Threats of physical violence would not work.”
Elora listened with half an ear. Sergio’s cooperation could be coerced. She plotted his fate after Parsons left Mirach. It might take a few more spurious messages on the supposedly resurrected HPG net to settle the citizens, but after they came to believe all had returned to easy, quick communication between the worlds of the Prefecture, then Sergio Ortega would be discovered to have sabotaged the net again.
Or perhaps she would blame that annoying son of his.
“Should I call out my guard? A few companies of battle armor? As a tribute, of course.”
“To meet Envoy Parsons?” She shook her head. A strand of fiery red hair drooped down; she brushed it away impatiently. “That won’t be necessary. The crowds will behave because I’ve told them he is here to celebrate the reestablishment of the HPG.”
“Why’s he back so soon? He hardly left.”
The question startled Elora. She had been so occupied with Sergio, his son, and positioning the MBA where she wanted them that she had not considered this. It was certainly worth finding out.
“The size of the reception at Mirach DropShip Field should be molded to fit the occasion, Calvy,” she said, wondering if a few companies might not be necessary to keep a man bringing a BattleMech away from the truth.
Her quick, long, ring-burdened fingers clicked as she worked. Her eyes narrowed when she received her response.
Jerome Parsons refused to acknowledge any communication from her.
31
AWC DropShip launch pad
Mirach
7 May 3133
“Guidance locked in, Ms. Kinsolving,” came the excited call from the landing-field director. “You want me to query again, to be certain?”
“There’s no need,” Marta Kinsolving said. She was puzzled why Envoy Parsons had specifically refused to land at the Mirach DropShip Field and had vectored in on the much smaller AWC facility. It was a mystery, but Marta was more concerned that the debris from the destroyed cargo ’Ship was hauled out of the way before Jerome Parsons landed than she was about figuring out his motives.
Marta’s phone jangled. She almost shut it off to keep from being bothered but on impulse accepted the call. Sergio Ortega peered up at her from the small vidscreen.
“Marta, good to see you,” said Sergio Ortega. “It’s good to see anyone. I don’t have much time before the guards take me away.”
“They wouldn’t do that, Baron,” Marta said. “Elora might have whipped the populace into a froth over bogus HPG transmissions, but forcibly removing a Governor is more than she wants to tackle right now.”
“If it weren’t for Parsons returning, I’d have followed my own course by now. I’m tracking him to your field. Are you prepared to televise his arrival?”
“The Ministry of Information is blocking AWC frequencies,” Marta said.
Sergio snorted in disgust. “AllWorldComm built most of the Ministry’s equipment. You know how to circumvent it. Jam her signal. I give you official approval. It’s necessary you show everyone that the Lord Governor’s Envoy is avoiding Tortorelli and Elora.”
“I understand, Baron,” she said. “We’ll do everything we can to transmit what’s really happening here.”
“Keep this line open as long as possible,” Sergio asked. “I’d like to see firsthand what Parsons is up to.”
“What Lord Governor Sandoval is up to, you mean,” Marta said. “Parsons doesn’t exhale without explicit orders.”
“You underestimate him. Don’t. But on one point you’re right. Parsons is loyal to both Sandoval and The Republic.”
Marta hesitated to say anything more, distracted by alarms and lights flashing throughout the control bunker.
“Baron, I’m switching you to multiple images, on the field and at the reception area. Parsons’ DropShip has touched down.” Marta didn’t wait for acknowledgment. She shot from the chair and hurried to the heavy door, where she waited impatiently until poisonous vapors from the DropShip’s landing blew away.
Marta walked out onto the field, head high and wishing she had a couple of the MBA modified ’Mechs behind her as honor guard. Meeting Parsons without any idea why he had returned so soon after his last visit was troubling. She took the steps up to the observation platform two at a time and stepped forward to wait for the Envoy to emerge from the DropShip. The gusty winds died, but Marta experienced chills running up and down her back.
“Are you tracking, recording, and transmitting?” Marta asked, switching her phone connection to the control bunker. “What’s going on? I can’t quite make it out through the vapor over the field.”
“Ms. Kinsolving, the cargo bays are opening.”
The crunching and grating of one hundred tons of metal could not distract her from the sheer, overwhelming presence of the BattleMech emerging through the haze. She had watched the refitted IndustrialMechs practice their war games, and they were impressive.
The Atlas towering fifteen meters awed her.
“Greetings, Ms. Kinsolving,” boomed a voice she hardly recognized as Jerome Parsons’. It came from a speaker back on the DropShip. “Excuse the moment of drama but I find it is always useful to capture attention before speaking.”