Several of the Dragoons grumbled at that, which pleased Akuma, though he hid it well. His face was smooth and his voice bland. “I assure you, Colonel Wolf, that there will be no military involvement in civil problems.”
“You're not going to make it easy, are you?”
“Whatever do you mean, Colonel?” Akuma asked, pretending puzzlement he did not feel.
“All right. We'll play it your way for now.”
Wolf turned to Cameron. “William, set up your shuttle to take Kormenski and her crew back to Hephaestus.”
“What about us, Colonel?” Shadd spoke for the assembled captains.
“I want the four of you to go planetside with Blake and me on Pack-One.Let's move it.” As the Dragoons moved to follow orders, Wolf turned back to Akuma as though struck by sudden thought.
“As our liaison,will you answer some questions concerning our interaction with your Draconis Combine?”
“Of course, Colonel. That is my job.”
“Why didn't I hear anything about these problems on the way from Luthien?”
Akuma spread his hands to indicate helplessness. “I have no knowledge of this lack of information. My office forwarded regular reports to the systems on your route. They should have been waiting for you. Did you not receive them?”
A frown was Wolf's only reply.
“I am a simple soldier, Colonel Wolf, not a ComStar Adept. Perhaps you should speak with them, for it is they who handle all interstellar communications. Perhaps you should question your officers as well. If you have received no reports from them, it may be because they fear to report their own negligence and incompetence.”
Wolf raised his head at the last allegation. Akuma knew it was false, but was once again gratified to have raised the Dragoon's hackles. Wolf would not believe it, but once voiced, the hint that he could not trust his own would always rankle. It would be a worm to gnaw at the mercenary's belief in his subordinates, a seed to be nurtured.
“Why have Dragoon communications been jammed insystem?” Wolf asked, ignoring Akuma's thrust.
“Do not be paranoid, Colonel. The jamming is part of a duly scheduled exercise by my Ryuken- ichi, whose maneuvers should be concluded in a few hours. Until then, you are not the only ones affected. You will soon be able to do all the talking you wish.” In a performance calculated to further agitate Wolf, Akuma added patronizingly, “I look forward to seeing how you handle this.”
Akuma started for the tunnel to the DropShip, Quinn falling in behind. Wolf was left standing. “Shall we go downstairs?” Akuma called back.
Wolf answered him with a cold stare, but then set his jaw and followed along.
37
Hoshon Mansion , Cerant, An Ting
Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine
2 January 3028
Minobu roamed through the house, having finished packing his ceramics. All that remained was to prepare his kyudoequipment for shipment. Except for the disruption inherent in the packing for a move, things were normal. Yet a vague unease nagged at him. Something was wrong, out of place.
The Hoshon Mansion had been his home for almost five years, and those years had been full ones. His eldest son Ito had applied to the Sun Zhang Academy and been accepted, bringing pride, and secret relief, to the father. His daughter Tomoe had grown from a rowdy gawk into a beautifully mannered young lady. Little Kiyomasa, no longer so little, had become a sturdy youth who promised to outstrip his father's own two-meter height in a few years. That boy was going to find any 'Mech cockpit a tight fit.
They had been good years, and the mansion had been lit with warmth and happiness. There had been shadows, too, for business had intruded here far too often. The darkest memory that this house held for Minobu was the near-estrangement of Tomiko after his injuries on Barlow's End. At first, she had been unable to accept it, refusing to look at him unless he was clothed. Even then, her eyes would avoid the black plastic hand that protruded from his sleeve. Yet even that had eventually passed, as do all things in this universe.
During Minobu's last leave from the regiment on Misery, Tomiko had put aside her distaste for the artificial arm and leg and returned to his bed. She had avoided touching the replacements, but that was understandable. She had not had as long as he to get used to their dry, unyielding surfaces.
From her tearful account, Minobu had learned that Marisha Dandridge was instrumental in Tomiko's turnabout. The sage counsel of Wolf's lady had helped his wife accept that Minobu had not changed, that he was still her husband, no matter what. Tomiko realized finally that the man, the essence she loved, was still there.
Despite the relief of his wife's return, Minobu was struck by the cosmic jest of it. She had come back because she believed him the same. He knew only too well that he was not.
Certainly, he still loved Tomiko. Without a thought, he could forgive her foolishness over his artificial limbs. Such a reaction was to be expected of a woman, especially one like Tomiko, so concerned with appearance. His love for her remained strong, but he was not the same man she had married sixteen years before. These last five years had changed him.
The roots of that change went back to Dromini VI, where he had committed an action that resulted in his being relieved of his command. Minobu had never understood why, but he had not questioned it. It was a samurai's duty to obey, not to question. Indeed, it was that belief in duty that kept him from despair. But the messages he had received—the dismissal from command and the promotion that accompanied it—were contradictory. And then another promotion followed, this one accompanied by a warning that it was only a sham. When assigned to the Dragoons, Minobu had been a very confused man.
He knew now that the assignment had been a turning point. His confusion began to clear as he began to realize that many of his long-held assumptions were false. Against the falsehoods, he had held to his honor, which had sustained him through those times. Honor was, after all, the foundation of a samurai's existence.
Standing on that bedrock of honor, he had met Jaime Wolf, a man with the name of a ravening beast but the heart of a true warrior. Another contradiction, but Minobu had been curious enough to look below the surface. Beyond the exterior of the driven mercenary Colonel, Minobu had found a man who believed in honor, and that man looked at those around him, the way he dealt with others. When he had changed Minobu could not guess, but the transformation continued even now to affect his life.
Oh no, he was not the same man Tomiko had married.
Yet, he was still Minobu Tetsuhara, loyal Kurita samurai and even stronger than before he had encountered Jaime Wolf and his Dragoons. After Lord Kurita had removed him from the Second Sword of Light, Minobu had lost his inner peace and with it, his ki.His years of loyal service as PSL Officer and the confidence fostered by Jaime's friendship had helped him to regain his balance and to renew his inner strength. After the crippling accident on Barlow's End, he had been able to call upon his kito fortify himself through the trials of recovery. This time, he had not lost muga.Its peace fueled his kiand that gave him more from his prosthetic limbs than the doctors had ever thought possible. They did not believe in kiand scoffed at his explanations, but that did not alter the truth.
His kitold him that something was not right here in the mansion today. Nothing more than a sense of unease ... a sense of deception ... came to him. There was no warning of immediate danger, no focus to the disturbance.