Lost destiny

by Michael A. Stackpole

  The Order of the Dragon! I would be a Knight of the Realm. Shin almost looked up to see if Takashi were sincere, but the phrase were you not a criminal stopped him. He is correct. Tradition would never allow a yakuza to be given so high an honor. Just being served tea by the Coordinator is great enough reward for me.

  "No, Shin Yodama, it is not possible. Yet I will reward you. This is why you and my grandson wear the same robes, for you are to assume the leadership of my personal bodyguard unit, the Dragon's Claws. In honor of your exploits, however, we will rename them the Izanagi Warriors."

  Shin stared blankly at the steaming bowl of green tea. Izanagi, he knew, was a legendary warrior who traveled to Hell, then fought his way back out again. It cannot be denied that Hohiro and I have faced many foes and have returned from a living hell time and again. He glanced at Hohiro and was pleased to see his friend grinning.

  Takashi tugged his kimono straight at the waist and stirred his own bowl of tea. "I know that each of you would like to protest that what you have done would not have been possible without the help of this Victor Davion and his people. My tailors have prepared for each one a similar set of robes and I will endow a fund providing educational grants for all their children, to be administered by the Davion court and overseen from Luthien by a member of our family. I would think it an excellent experience for one who will someday become the Keeper of the House Honor."

  Behind him Omi bowed in acceptance.

  "I salute you, for you are heroes all." Takashi lifted his bowl and the others followed his lead. "Let us five who have done all we could to hold the Combine together drink as one. Let this ceremony mark our resolve to meld our efforts and rededicate ourselves to serving and preserving our nation for all time."

  45

  First Circuit Compound, Hilton Head Island

  North America, Terra

  6 June 3052

  Anastasius Focht, Precentor Martial and Victor of Tukayyid, stood in the central courtyard of the First Circuit Compound and stared at the monument raised to his victory. The black marble obelisk towered over him and the sunlight glittered from the gold leaf that had been applied to the words carved into its base. Choking down the lump in his throat, he spoke the words to see if they sounded better than they read.

  "Aware of the threat the Clans presented to the dreams of our Blessed Order, Anastasius Focht and his Com Guards— by order of Primus Myndo Waterly—met and defeated the invaders in the first three weeks of May 3052. In stopping the Clans, he facilitated the rebirth of our Blessed Order and its acceptance of the role Jerome Blake envisioned when he founded ComStar."

  Focht studied the words again in silence, then shook his head. Despite his dispatches to the Primus, she obviously had no concept of the death and destruction Tukayyid saw. To her, the battle with the Clans was a tree from which monuments could be plucked. She saw it as a beginning for ComStar, not as the end of so many lives. She must be made to see reality!

  The Precentor Martial tugged at the clasp of his white cloak and let it fall from his shoulders. Beneath it he wore the olive jumpsuit he had been given six months earlier by the 82nd Division of the Second Army when he inducted a new group of MechWarriors into their organization. In the heavy pouch on his left hip was a book with the names of each of the 82nd Division's warriors who died fighting Natasha Kerensky's Wolf Spiders. As he pressed his hand against the book, he also felt the pistol hidden in the pouch. She must be made to see!

  Following the pointing shadow of the obelisk, he walked across the granite-paved courtyard to the Hall of History for his appointed meeting with the Primus. Waiting for him in the rotunda were she and her aide, Sharilar Mori, clad in robes of gold and red, respectively. He stopped and saluted smartly, only continuing forward as the Primus clapped her hands appreciatively.

  "You have, of course, seen the monument?"

  "Yes, Primus. It is impressive."

  "I am glad it pleases you." Myndo smiled and brushed her long white hair back from one shoulder. "In the twenty years since we formed the Com Guards, we have never had to fight a battle of any seriousness or importance. I cannot tell you that my confidence in you was 100 percent. There were members of the First Circuit who believed sending untried troops against the Clans was sheer folly." She glanced at Sharilar. "Fortunately, we were able to prevail to give you that opportunity."

  "Your support was most encouraging, Primus." Focht frowned. "I thought you indicated this meeting was for me to debrief the First Circuit? Where are the others?"

  Myndo opened her hands in a gesture of dismissal. "They are really redundant now that a new age for ComStar has dawned. You should be happy, for you are our Light-bringer."

  Light-bringer! "Are you saying I am your Lucifer?"

  "Prometheus is more appropriate, I believe, Anastasius. You have empowered our enlightening of humanity." She took his right hand in her left and guided him deeper into the building. "You must see this. Our artisans have been working day and night since the victory. This is much better than your computer reality."

  She led him through a doorway and he stopped short. The massive gallery that had been devoted to displaying all the relics of Jerome Blake and the early days of ComStar had been stripped to the walls. In their place, countless tables had been erected. Drifting in toward the nearest, he saw mountains and trees in miniature that matched perfectly with the images of battlefields burned into his brain.

  Burned-out swaths of ripe wheat and aching holes dotted the tiny landscape. 'Mechs, scaled down to match the area of the world where they stood or had fallen, were twisted and broken, yet each was exact down to the details of paint scheme and pilot's name emblazoned on his 'Mech. Little human figures lay strewn around the miniaturized battle-fields as they had on Tukayyid. The artisans had somehow even mixed a paint to match the gray pallor of their flesh.

  My God in heaven! "This is Luk." He moved to the table next to it and saw more destruction. "These are the Dinju Mountains, and there, that is the Przeno Plain."

  Inexorably, like a moth drawn to a flame, Anastasius Focht moved through the models with the same ease he had crisscrossed the planet in his virtual reality, always working in toward the massive gray display in the center. With each tableau, he recalled hideous details the model-makers could in no way match. Their little worlds did not ring with the moans and screams of the wounded and dying. Their work lacked the cloying stench of rotting corpses or the snarling voices of scavengers coming to feed on the dead. Their artificial worlds did not have the same cold chill that had marked Tukayyid after all the guns had stopped.

  At the very center of the room, Focht found the Pozoristu Mountains. Slowly orbiting the table, he followed the line of destruction that marked the Wolf Clans' methodical campaign. He saw the valley where Khan Garth Radick had fallen, but the number of lost Clan 'Mechs looked insignificant compared to the number of Com Guard bodies, tanks, and 'Mechs littering the terrain.

  "It's all here, Anastasius, and this is just the beginning." Myndo's dark eyes flashed with an infernal light. "These models only show the aftermath of the battling, but we will recreate each of the fights, second by second. Each battlefield will have its own building, and people will be able to watch the battle unfold as it did on Tukayyid."

  Focht could not believe his ears. "Why do that when you have our own and Clan battleroms to piece together an accurate history?"

  She smiled patronizingly and looked at Sharilar. The Kurita woman returned the smile, but Focht saw her shudder as Myndo turned back to him. "Anastasius, the victors write the history. The reality of what happened on Tukayyid is not nearly as important as the symbolic nature of your victory. You have proved ComStar to be the savior of all mankind. We have stopped the barbaric hordes from overrunning the Inner Sphere and extinguishing the light of knowledge. Now the people will look to us for leadership."

  Before he could question her interpretation of what had happened, the Primus again took his hand. "Now, you must come see this.
Around us is history, but I will show you the future!"

  She dragged him to the next gallery and his heart rose into his throat. "Yes, Anastasius, this is the future of ComStar! You are its father and I am its mother."

  They studied the room's sunken floor from a catwalk encircling it. The whole room remained dark except for the glowing pinpoints of light Focht recognized as a three-dimensional display of the Inner Sphere's many worlds. The largest light sat in the center and as it pulsed gold, a cone of worlds reaching up and out toward the roof flashed in answer to it. A gold light marked every world the Clans had taken and ComStar had administered.

  The worlds of the Draconis Combine were shown in red, but as he watched, a central world in that mix went gold, and with it the rest of them began to change. "Luthien," he breathed quietly. Again, below that, one of the worlds in the blue swath that cut across the sphere went gold. "New Avalon, then Sian and Atreus." Another blue world changed colors and Focht felt his chest tighten. "Tharkad, my Tharkad."

  Myndo nodded, the thousands of gold pinpricks reflected in her eyes. "You thought I had forgotten?" She turned and touched one of the darkened panels behind them. "This will be Tharkad under you, Archon Frederick Steiner."

  Another miniaturized model appeared, this one protectively warded by a lexan barrier. He had a nagging feeling that he recognized the city represented as the capital, Tharkad City, but strange elements confused him. He allowed himself to be mistaken because it had been more than two decades since he had seen the city, but then he realized it had been warped to conform with the Primus' insane vision of the future.

  A colossal statue rose from the center of the Triad, dwarfing the trio of buildings that marked the center of the city and its government. Clutching an upraised sword, he saw himself clad in the manner of classical Roman statues. His left hand carried a book, and on it he could make out the ComStar insignia and the legend, "The Word of Blake."

  Like the rays of the sun, twelve roadways soared over or through the buildings as they focused down to the Triad. On the dozen flagpoles standing over the Triad, he saw fluttering the flag with ComStar's twelve-pointed star. The buildings were painted in the white and gold favored by ComStar officials. The whole city had been made over in ComStar's image.

  Suddenly the back wall of the display case opened and the cityscape withdrew as another model descended to replace it. Of a much larger scale, it showed a place he knew well. Two Griffin BattleMechs stood in the dark hall. They flanked a throne that sat beneath a ComStar banner with the Steiner armored fist beneath the gold starburst. The 'Mechs were no longer painted the blue and white that would have proclaimed them part of the Tenth Lyran Guards, but had been repainted with the colors of the Com Guards.

  Focht stiffened as he saw the figure seated in the throne. Long, lean, with a shock of white hair and a black eye patch over his right eye, it was he who occupied a throne he had not desired since losing his eye. The only time I have sat in that throne was in a bad dream. Has life become a nightmare from which there is no waking?

  "Yes, Anastasius, as I promised, the throne of the Lyran Commonwealth will be yours. As a ComStar protectorate, it will enjoy all we have to offer." Myndo pressed her hand against the glass. "I reward those in whom I can place my trust."

  Focht brought his head up. "I must ask, Primus, how we are to take Tharkad? Your Com Guards are not in any shape for a campaign at this moment."

  Myndo clapped her hands. "That is just it, Anastasius. We will not have to fight them. While you dealt with the Clans, we have brought the rest of the Inner Sphere to its knees. I ordered a total Interdiction of all communications and shipping. Though we lost control of some facilities, we will regain it again. The worlds we now administer are loyal to us and others will follow, including Tharkad. Our interdiction is crushing them."

  "This is your Operation Scorpion." Focht narrowed his good eye. "I thought you trusted me."

  "I did." She thrust a finger back toward the battlefields. "I trusted you to distract and hurt the Clans, but this, this was much too big to place on your shoulders. The Clans have shattered the Inner Sphere and we will rebuild it. You see, I know you very well and I know your desires. Fear not, Tharkad will be yours."

  Focht began to laugh then, a low sound that began to build as bewilderment spread over Myndo's face. "You don't know me at all. You judge me by the man I once was. Yes, Frederick Steiner would have welcomed being rewarded with the Steiner throne, but even he would not have stooped so low as to conspire with ComStar to get it. But I am not Frederick Steiner, and I have not been Frederick Steiner for over twenty years."

  He smashed his right fist into the lexan between him and his simulacrum. "Anastasius Focht is a name I chose so that it would remind me every day that I am just a warrior. I am not suited to dabbling in politics. I paid a dear price for having done that once and, worse yet, I nearly made my nation pay, too. If you thought you could buy me with a tarnished dream, you never understood me at all."

  The Primus started to speak, but he cut her off by stabbing a finger at her. "You had no need to bribe me. I was, body and soul, a creature of ComStar. I fought on Tukayyid because I believed ComStar should devote its resources to stopping the Clans. I did not bargain with the ilKhan just to have my word undermined by you!"

  "That may well be," the Primus spat back, "but the reality is that my Operation Scorpion has crippled the Successor States. The Inner Sphere has been broken and only we can mend it. It is a pity that you do not want to be part of the solution to this situation because I could have used you." She folded her arms across her chest. "I hereby accept your resignation and will see to it that you are turned over to the Clans for whatever justice they care to administer to you for stabbing them in the back!"

  Focht laughed again and his lack of fear clearly shocked her. "That will not work, Primus. ilKhan Ulric knows very well that I had nothing to do with Operation Scorpion. Furthermore, that operation has been a joke. It did nothing to the Clans but cause them to put down a few revolts. Retaking those worlds we did succeed in liberating will be a minor diversion of their might, and will likely be left to the forces they have coming in to the Inner Sphere to settle here.

  "As for having crippled the Inner Sphere, I think you are mistaken. I was easily able to send an Alpha Priority message to my cousin, Melissa, on New Avalon, and she replied within the hour. It seems that in the Federated Commonwealth our facilities are functioning normally under their control."

  "That is not possible!" Myndo leaned against the balcony railing and stared out at her empire of lights. "They are infidels. They cannot know the secrets of hyperpulse generators!"

  "Science is not a god. Technology requires neither belief nor ritual, Primus. They discovered how to make them work." Focht drew his needle pistol and pointed it at her. "I am afraid your resignation is, in fact, in order. It is true that someone needs to pick up and mend the pieces of the Inner Sphere, but you are not the one to do it."

  She looked from the gun to his face and back again, then turned and faced away from him. "You underestimate me and how much I do know about you, Anastasius." Her left hand playing along the railing, she slowly began to walk past Sharilar and away from him. "You are a warrior. You have a code of ethics that binds you and blinds you. It would never permit you to shoot me in the back, which means I can walk away from here and find other warriors with a code of ethics that demands they obey their superiors. Your little revolt will end now because the dream must live!"

  Focht shook his head. "Lunatic dreams become nightmare reality for the sane." His finger stroked the trigger twice and the Primus sprawled forward.

  He swung the gun into line with Sharilar Mori. "And what am I to do with you?"

  The oriental woman opened her hands. "I have done nothing that could be considered a capital crime."

  "Really? And I had always remembered treason carried with it the supreme penalty." He raised his left eyebrow. "After all, isn't spying for the Draconis Combi
ne treason against ComStar?"

  "What? How could you know?"

  "I am the Precentor Martial. Security is very much a part of my job and discovering the leaks in ComStar's First Circuit is an important facet of maintaining my security. I had to be suspicious of a Combine agent being inside the First Circuit because of the way my presentation to the Primus by Theodore Kurita so many years ago pleased her. I was the answer to her prayers and Theodore certainly got everything he desired in return for my service to ComStar. The leaking of information to the Combine concerning the Clans and their activity, then of Operation Scorpion, said the spy was highly placed. Melissa confirmed a Combine connection with the warning about the Clans' return and Scorpion. The latter pointed to you, for the Primus would have sent the order out through you so she could repudiate the plan if it failed. You also had to be the one insulating her from full knowledge of its dismal failure."

  Sharilar smiled respectfully. "Your analysis is flawless. I knew there was a risk, but I had to take it even if it put my cover in jeopardy."

  "As spies have ever done."

  "Indeed." She looked down at Myndo's body. "So, will you shoot me because I have betrayed a dead organization?"

  Focht shook his head. "I, too, have a dream for ComStar. The war with the Clans has convinced me that we must not waste the resources we have, and the internecine battling between the Successor States has given me some ideas for a new direction for ComStar. I have a problem, however."

  "You are not a politician, nor do you have any desire to become one."

  "I do not have enough time left to become one. You, on the other hand, have negotiated the labyrinth of ComStar with enough skill to become a member of the First Circuit in a fairly short time." The Precentor Martial raked the fingers of his left hand back through his hair. "Have you the skill necessary to make a dream come true?"