“I am grateful, Senior Master.”

Bynfield stood for a moment, puzzlement written all over her face. Then she shook her head and started to reach for the pile that was his uniform and swords. “Your gear'll be at HQ, sir.”

Minobu stepped in her way. “You may take the uniform when I am gone. The swords I must take with me.” He lifted the wakizashi.Loosening the sageyocord, he looped it over his shoulder, and retied it. He settled the sword where the blade would not get in his way when he clambered aboard the 'Mech. He did the same for the katana,his motions quick and practiced.

“Right. Well, the Vindicator'sall set, sir. The neurocircuits have been adjusted to an open setting, and so you shouldn't get any feedback. You can ride the lift up.” She watched as he entered the cage. Minobu engage the drive and began to rise up the length of the 'Mech. “Crazy samurai,” he heard her say to another crew member, though he knew Bynfield had not intended him to overhear. Then she picked up the uniform and walked away.

The lift jarred to a stop at cockpit level, where Minobu picked his way across the hot metal of the 'Mech's exterior. Before entering, he unslung his swords. Holding them both by the scabbard cords, he slid through the open hatch and into the pilot's seat. Swords safely stowed, he looked over the controls and checked the 'Mech's system monitors before reaching up to close and dog the hatch.

Sliding the neurohelmet free of its cradle, he settled it onto the padded shoulders of the vest and plugged the control leads into the console. He waited for the brief wave of dizziness that he knew would come. The neurohelmet was a sophisticated computer interface that fed data on the BattleMech's stance and position to the wearer. The 'Mech's control systems then utilized the feedback from the pilot's own sense of equilibrium to guide the gyros in controlling the motion of the machine. All this occurred below the level of the ‘Mech Warrior's consciousness, but the moment of connection was always palpable.

The vertigo came and passed quickly, only slightly more unpleasant than Minobu was used to because the frequencies were not adjusted specifically to him. A rush of adrenalin came with the sense of the machine's balance. He was in control of the BattleMech. The viewscreens, set to the visible spectrum, revealed the ground crew clearing away. As he moved the 'Mech out of the vehicle park, he lifted the PPC in salute.

Today, if only for a little while, Minobu Tetsuhara was a ‘MechWarrior again.

8

Fire Rift, Quentin IV

Draconis March, Federated Suns

17 June 3023

 

The Vindicatormoved through a hellish landscape. Minobu had seen no signs of animal life, and the only plants were scrubby bushes and rough grasses, all tinted with tawny chlorophyll analog that had evolved here. Everywhere he looked were columns of red rock, sculpted into fantastic spires reminiscent of the antique minarets and arches of Al Na'ir. Scattered among them were mesas of banded sediment aproned in talus piles and dusted with weathered gray pumice and ash. In several places, plumes of vapor rose from active volcanic vents. All of it was wrapped in the distortion of heat haze and a pall of smoke.

It was much hotter here than near the spaceport. There was direct solar heat from the blazing white sun, reflected heat from the dazzling ash, and activity heat from the 'Mech's movements. Heat was a ‘MechWarrior's constant concern. If the internal heat of a BattleMech rose too high, its functional efficiency was impaired. Delicate systems could malfunction, and there was the danger of an ammunition explosion if the machine carried a missile rack or a ballistic weapon. And if the heat levels rose too high, automatic safety circuits could shut down the 'Mech's fusion power plant, leaving the ‘Mech Warrior helpless in the midst of a battle. He was only on the outskirts of Fire Rift now. Deeper into the region, it would be worse, for smoke plumes to the south showed that volcanic activity was greater there.

Minobu checked the Vindicator'sheat scale. It was still low, but that would change if he had to engage in combat. The Dragoon Techs had set speed governors and lengthened the recycle time for weapons on their 'Mechs to slow the crippling buildup of heat. He must not forget that if he was to use this 'Mech effectively. Status readouts indicated that the heat exchangers were operating at 52 percent of standard capacity. It would be far too easy to overheat this machine.

The Vindicatorheaded along the bearing Minobu had received from the command center when he left Batan, a course that was supposed to take him to the Alpha Regiment's field headquarters to link up with Wolf. The mercenary had not waited while Minobu was fitted out with the loaner 'Mech. He and his Command Lance had moved out, leaving their liaison to follow. Minobu wondered briefly if it might be another test, but decided that a more likely explanation was Wolf's desire to take charge quickly.

Communications had been fitful since he'd entered the Fire Rift area. When not screened completely by the masses of granitic extrusions in the surrounding landscape, they were broken up by static. Only when he crossed a hogback could Minobu pick up the Dragoon battle frequencies with reasonable clarity. The elevation also exposed the Vindicatorto enemy observation, a risk not worth taking. Constant communications linkage was not critical at this time.

He had not been able to make contact with Alpha Command. Presumably, they remained at the location he had seen on the command map at the port. A check of the map display on his right showed that he was only forty-five or so kilometers from the site. Were the terrain clear, the 'Mech could get him there in two hours, even with its speed limited by a governor. That was a vain thought, however. The terrain was anything but clear, and getting worse. The trip would take considerably longer, but he could not predict how much.

Minobu maneuvered the Vindicatordown a slope and onto an old lava flow. Because walking the 'Mech was easier on the relatively flat surface, he was able to increase his pace for awhile. When the flow began to lead away in another direction, he was forced to return to tramping over broken rock and scrabbling through the scree.

Distances were deceptive in these badlands. Erosion had sculpted many fantastic shapes, in many sizes, but size and shape had no connection, and the stone had no scale. Combined with the lack of ordinary measures, such as trees, vehicles, or people, it was almost impossible to gauge the distance to any of the natural features. What looked to be a tremendous tableland, kilometers away, could turn out to be a miniature mesa only meters off. It was all a giant illusion that would have intrigued and delighted his grandfather, a gardener in the ancient Japanese tradition of recreating the natural world in the microcosm of a garden.

Grandfather had often taken him into the family garden. In that quiet place, the old man had begun young Minobu's first training in the disciplines of muga,opening him to the paths of inner solitude that are the strength of a samurai. With Grandfather at his side, Minobu had walked those paths, inner and outer, among bonsaitrees carefully cultured to make mounds into mountains.

Minobu's first sight of the wrecked BattleMech came as he passed through an arch of ruddy stone. Frozen in place against the background of spires and buttes, the 'Mech was gigantic, dwarfing the tablelands. Illusion and his memories had caught him. This was no refugee from a child's holo entertainment, no impossible machine standing hundreds of meters tall. It was an ordinary Griffin,destroyed in combat. The 'Mech was only fifty meters away, not the hundreds it had first appeared to be.