Main event

by James D. Long

  "Well, could you really love someone like that?" Rose was no longer listening. Elaine's voice had risen in pitch and he could hear the decision in her voice. She had already rationalized the need to kill Rose and was about to pull the trigger.

  Rose lunged down and to the side just as Elaine triggered two quick bursts at where Rose had just been standing. The first shot, aimed at his chest, caught him in the right shoulder as he tried to lean out of the way. He could feel his jacket pull slightly as the plastic slivers effortlessly parted the threads of the jacket and the skin underneath. The second shot, corrected as the trigger was being pulled, flew past his ear. As his fingers first touched the Sunbeam, Rose shifted his attention to Elaine. Either she did not know Rose had the laser or she was making very sure of her next shot. Although she had the needier pointed directly at him, she did not pull the trigger. As Rose was bringing the Sunbeam up for a single desperate shot, Elaine was aligning her pistol for the kill.

  Rose fired without aiming, praying for the first time since he'd left the Highlanders. His lunge had left him completely off balance, lying on his left side. He heard, then felt, the quiet staccato of the needier as plastic skipped off the sidewalk and raked his left ribs.

  He brought his pistol back in line, aimed, and fired before he realized Elaine was already falling backward. The second shot struck her fully in the chest, hastening her backward flight. The needier fell from lifeless hands as her body crumpled into a heap.

  Rose tried to stand, stopped short at the pain in his shoulder and chest, then continued the motion. He crossed quickly to Elaine, who stared sightlessly at him. He held a finger to her neck and discovered the entry point of his first shot, just under the chin. From his angle on the ground, the shot must have passed up into the woman's brain, killing her instantly. Two centimeters to the right and Rose would have missed her completely. He drew back bloodless fingers from the already cauterized wound. Behind him he heard a man shout and a woman scream. Without so much as a backward look he fled into the night.

  11

  Solaris City, Solaris

  8 August 3054

  "Let me get this straight." The man behind the desk leaned forward to stare intently at his visitor. Like a bear defending his territory, he bunched his shoulders and prepared to engage the individual standing across his desk. "You 'happen' to hear that one of my pilots is out of the match. You 'happen' to hear I need a fourth pilot or else I have to scratch the match. You 'happen' to be checked out on O'Shea's 'Mech. You 'happen' to know Warwick. You 'happen' to be in my office and you 'happen' to want to fight for free. Chromium fire, man! Do I look stupid?" A pair of thundering fists crashed down on the desk as the man stood up. The ancient wooden piece creaked with the pressure, but held together. His eyes blazed with anger and frustration, but he was still in his home territory and would not be cowed into a corner.

  "I didn't come to own four 'Mechs by being stupid. I don't know who you are, and at this point I don't really care. What I do want to know is why you're here and why I shouldn't have Esmeralda toss you out on your butt—and don't think she couldn't. She's the only other person ever to take O'Shea in a fight."

  The man on the other side of the stablemaster's desk paused for just an instant to allow the nearly berserk owner to fall back into his desk chair. For most people this would have signaled the end of the confrontation, but for this man, it seemed more like a willingness to take a few rounds instead of dishing it out. He reached out and stabbed a cigar, which smelled disturbingly like real tobacco, into the corner of his mouth, his eyes daring his visitor to say something. Behind the stablemaster's chair an overworked and ineffective air purifier hummed quietly. Judging the moment to be right, the visitor leaned forward and placed his hands flat on the other man's desk.

  "Mister Carstairs, although you are not interested, my name is Jeremiah Rose." Rose waited a few moments to see if the name would mean anything to the stable owner. Rose had no doubt that Carstairs was intimately familiar with everything that had been going on with his pilots and the role he had played. Carstairs didn't so much as blink at the name. The bear—Rose couldn't help but think of the giant stablemaster as anything else—worked his cigar to the other side of his mouth, but did not speak. Suddenly unsure of his strategy, Rose hesitated slightly before continuing.

  "For the last two years I have been fighting the Clans in the Draconis Combine. I was a company commander for more than half that time. Five months ago my company was crushed by combined elements of the Wolf Clan, leaving me the only survivor out of twelve men and women. My 'Mech, like many others, was a one-of-a-kind creation. Now there isn't enough of it left to build a doghouse. I am in Solaris to regain a 'Mech." Rose paused to let Carstairs digest what he'd said. When the stable owner didn't immediately explode again, Rose was certain he'd be allowed to finish his speech. Heartened, he continued on.

  "As you are doubtless aware, there are fewer and fewer 'Mechs available, even for seasoned veterans such as myself. My last unit offered me a staff position and placed me on a waiting list for a replacement. I was sixth in line, facing a prospective wait of twenty-four to thirty-six months. That is unacceptable.

  "I attempted to purchase a 'Mech from several sources, but even that failed. With the recent Combine and Federat losses, it's a seller's market. I was finally forced to come to Solaris to acquire a 'Mech, as this seems to be the only planet within a year's travel that actually has more 'Mechs than pilots. Now I discover I cannot purchase one even here.

  "The JumpShip on which I was traveling developed a fuel leak, delaying my arrival on Solaris for over a month. I came within a week of missing the entire season. Again, that is unacceptable.

  "Your lance is scheduled to fight Warwick this evening in the final confrontation of the season. Jaryl, your only back-up, was killed by someone obviously working for Warwick and you are up the creek without a paddle. The damage done to O'Shea's middle ear will be fine in another eighteen hours, but for now he's got a PPC-sized headache, a persistent ringing in his ears, and the balance of a town drunk. The only reason O'Shea isn't dead is that I got to him before Warwick's hired assassin." Rose shifted in his chair as he thought about the med-patches under his shirt and the sting in his ribs.

  "Now, Mister Carstairs, you have a choice. You can accept my original offer to purchase a spot on your team and participate in the upcoming conflict or you can have the lovely Miss Esmeralda toss me out." Rose leaned back in his chair and again allowed his words to sink in. He tried to shift in his chair as the owner thought over the matter. His wounds would heal eventually and he doubted the scars would amount to much, but right now it felt as though someone had taped a couple of angry hornets to his side and shoulder. Rose concentrated on his breathing, trying to will the pain away. He hadn't come even close when he noticed Carstairs shift in his chair and prepare to speak. The bear waved away the gray-blue tobacco cloud that had formed around his head and leaned forward.

  "All right, Mister Rose, here's the offer. This is a onetime deal, so you can take it or blow.

  "First, you buy the Shadow Hawk O'Shea's been riding. That way if you get toasted by one of Warwick's gunslingers, it's no skin off my nose. If you manage to make it out alive, the 'Mech, or what's left of it, is yours. Second, you forfeit all rights to salvage and your share of the purse.

  "You didn't know about the salvage, did you? It's usually not much of an issue on Solaris, but tonight we got us a real treat. Warwick and I had to agree to make this last fight an actual battle. Winner take all. If we win, we, meaning I, get the titles to the four 'Mechs in Warwick's lance. If I, meaning you, lose? Well, you won't have to worry much about your new 'Mech and I've got to start looking for some new rides for my pilots." Carstairs leaned back in his chair and propped his huge feet on the desk. With a satisfied sigh he blew a series of smoke rings into the stale air.

  "Third," Carstairs looked between his feet at Rose, "if you live through the night, you'll tell me about that last encount
er with the Wolves. I've heard rumors and I want to hear the real story from someone who was there. I know you didn't fight with any of the regular House units and you're certainly not a merc, at least not yet. Far as I can see, that makes you ComStar or Clan and also one rare bird."

  Carstairs grinned as Rose's eyes snapped up. To Rose it had always seemed elementary that others would assume he'd once been a member of the Com Guards, but everyone on Solaris seemed to think he was a spy for one of the Great Houses. Hearing the truth spoken out loud, however, was something of a surprise. Rose had given himself away, but did not answer. The smile on Carstairs' face grew even bigger.

  "Now, do we have a deal?"

  * * *

  Jeremiah walked out to meet his new lancemates in the underground locker room. He set down the heavy suitcase and eyed them with the same caution and suspicion he saw mirrored on their faces. Not that he could blame them. They were being asked to trust their lives to a complete stranger at the apparent whim of their boss. Jeremiah was in the same situation, but of his own choice. He could imagine the anger, frustration, and fear these people must be feeling. He examined the two women and one man, all of whom had already donned their gear and cooling vests. The silence was almost a tangible creature, stalking the room with them, until the biggest of the three spoke.

  "I'm Esmeralda. This is Jackson and that's Little Mary. This is my lance and these are my people, no matter what that jerk Carstairs says. O'Shea didn't have a problem with that. What about you?" Rose considered his options and, although the arrogance and antagonism in the woman's voice would have normally led to a confrontation, he knew he must ease their fears even if he could not expect their trust.

  "Message received and understood, sir." Esmeralda glared at him for a moment, weighing his words for sarcasm, then reluctantly accepted his reply. Although it was obvious she did not trust Rose completely, she launched into her battle plan.

  "Here's the scoop, people. The main arena is set for a nearly open confrontation. They've built a couple of one-story buildings in the center, but only a couple and the construction isn't that good."

  "How do you know that?" All eyes turned to Rose as he questioned Esmeralda.

  "Look, Ace, I make it my business to know what's going on when I step into that arena. If you don't, you die. If I say it's so, then it's just like you heard it from God himself. Got me?

  "Do not attempt to stand on the buildings. The roofs won't hold even Mary's Stinger, so stay away.

  "Rose, word says you're the first target. You seem to have somebody truly upset with you. The odds-makers say you'll be the first to go down."

  "I know," he said dryly. "I visited one of the local bookmakers on my way over." Esmeralda gave him a condescending smile.

  "We'll try to cover you, but. . ." She let the words trail away to silence. It was obvious she expected little out of Rose in the match, except maybe to absorb a few of the opening shots.

  "I understand." He understood all too well. The look on Jackson's face said he'd also bet against Rose.

  "Okay, lock and load. Rose, I want to talk to you a minute." Little Mary and Jackson headed off toward the 'Mech bay without a second glance. Rose admired the firm command Esmeralda had over her lance.

  "I'll get to the point. I don't know you and you don't know me. That means we've got a problem. Despite what O'Shea says, Warwick's goons are very good. I need to know, right now, just how good you really are. Look me in the eye and answer one question—how good are you?"

  Rose leaned forward, his nose almost touching Esmeralda's.

  "I'm the best there is."

  "Great," she said. "So, now I've got another Kai Allard. Well, I hope that's good enough." Like her teammates before her, Esmeralda walked off toward the 'Mech bay, leaving Rose to follow in her wake.

  Following her down the tunnel and then emerging into the cavernous bay, Rose smiled with true joy for the first time in weeks as he looked at his new 'Mech. He trotted across the bare floor and ran his hand across the freshly painted foot of his machine. He stepped over to the attendant scaffolding and rode the gantry elevator up to the cockpit. Opening the rear hatch he carefully set his suitcase inside and ducked through the low opening. Although the cockpit was smaller than he remembered, it felt almost like home.

  Like his grandfather and his mother, Rose had learned his piloting skills at the controls of a Shadow Hawk. Although he'd graduated to command a larger 'Mech, the Shadow Hawk model had always held a special place in his heart. He tried without success to remember the face of his grandfather, dead long before Rose had left his home among the Highlanders. His inability to remember frustrated him, but he shook off the feeling and stepped inside. Home seemed so close and so far away. He wondered how Rianna was doing on Outreach and if she'd been receiving his frequent messages. Specific thoughts of his family began to fade quickly as he began preparing for combat. With an ease born from countless repetitions, he opened the battered case and withdrew the single item. Placing it gently aside, he closed the case and tied it down by the attached restraining straps. He could feel the rush of impending combat as he settled into the command chair and began to strap in.

  Unlike most Mech Warriors, Rose did not strip down to the bare essentials and don the bulky cooling vest designed to keep a MechWarrior's body temperature cool enough to remain conscious. Instead he wore something resembling a full flight suit, and that was half his edge. What looked like a flight suit was really a Star League-era combat suit. A marvel of engineering, even for the time, it had been handed down from warrior to warrior until it had finally come to Rose, along with the Star League neurohelmet he'd pulled out of the suitcase. The suit and helmet were priceless and Rose treated them that way, storing them in a bank vault the moment after they'd been unloaded from the DropShip his second day on Solaris. As a boy growing up with the Highlanders, he could only dream of such technology, but enlistment in the Com Guards had given him access to gear he'd never even imagined existed. Although the helmet and suit were not technically his, he had managed to keep them when he left Terra. Even with the inferior cooling system of his new 'Mech, which looked to be only fifty or sixty years old, he could run the internal temperature into ranges not even dreamed of in a standard cooling vest.

  His helmet was an even greater technical marvel. It provided better transfer of his sense of balance to the giant 'Mech and operated at a much faster speed, allowing Rose to virtually dance when piloting a 'Mech. He pulled the helmet over his head and secured it to his shoulders. Now the dance was about to begin.

  12

  Solaris City, Solaris

  8 August 3054

  "Ladies and gendemen, we are proud to present our feature event, a lance-on-lance battle to the finish between the warriors from Carstairs Stables and the warriors of Warwick Stables.

  "Entering from the north and painted in blue and white are the warriors of Carstairs. Stinger, Hunchback, Shadow Hawk, and Warhammer.,,

  Jeremiah got his first view of the arena as the giant doors went up and the spotlights hit his 'Mech. Esmeralda had been right about the tiny "town" constructed in the center of the arena. Part of his mind reviewed his weapons while another part considered the tactical advantages of the small cluster of buildings.

  "Entering from the south and painted in maroon and gray are the warriors of Warwick. Javelin, Hatchetman, Centurion, and Charger."

  A Hatchetman and a Charger? Warning lights began to go off in Jeremiah's head. They matched the warning lights going off on his control panel.

  "Per private agreement between the stablemasters of both sides, tonight's duel will be fought without the use of ranged weapons. This contest will be decided up close and personal, the way you like it. Now, let the match begin."

  Rose's blood ran cold. All Mech Warriors dreaded facing the Hatchetman's axe, preferring to take out the forty-five-ton brute before it could get close enough to use the hatchet. That was not an option tonight. The Charger's weight and speed made it a
formidable enemy in close quarters. In a match where each 'Mech used all its available resources, the Charger's small lasers did not provide enough ranged firepower to be a real threat, but in this situation, those two 'Mechs changed the balance of power dramatically.

  Jeremiah could hear Esmeralda cursing as the electromagnetic field dropped and he sprinted out of the gate. He tried the trigger of his long-range missile system and was met by the silence of a failed launch. Checking his tactical readout, he confirmed his suspicion that he was carrying a full load of ammunition, which meant the LRM equipment must have been disconnected in the torso. He tried to dump his ammo out the rear ejection port, but nothing happened—just as he'd expected. Those lines must have gone the way of the launch system, leaving him with no way to get rid of the explosive munitions. No doubt the other members of the team were experiencing the same problems and reaching the same conclusions.

  Warwick's crew didn't seem to mind at all, so that probably meant they were in on the private agreement. The more Rose thought about the conditions of the fight, the more he worried. Esmeralda's Warhammer lacked lower arms, hands, and jump jets, making her little more than a slow-moving target. The rest of the lance had arms and Mary's 'Mech could jump, as could his Shadow Hawk, but the lance gave away a lot of tonnage, maneuverability, and raw speed, especially against the Warhammer. It took only a few seconds for Jeremiah and Esmeralda to realize that the fight was almost over before it began. The commlink suddenly came alive with her voice.