"I don't need that kind of help, Tourneville. For today, the cap will do as it is," Theodore said, hiding his irritation with a smile. And you don't need a helper in your spying,he added silently, accepting the preferred cap and settling it on his head.

Ignoring his companion's frown, Theodore shrugged into a nonregulation battle vest. The dark-brown, padded garment almost covered the red diagonal stripe on his dark gray jersey. Theodore knew that Tourneville was as bothered by the scruffiness of the vest as by the fact that it covered the identifying stripe that was the most prominent feature of a Kurita MechWarrior's noncombat uniform. For a spy, Tourneville had a most curious desire to see things identified for what they were.

As soon as they were ready, Theodore led the way from the barracks to the motor pool. After a short delay in which Tourneville dealt with a runner from the comm center, they mounted an open-topped groundcar and sped away with a soft electric whine.

"What was that all about?" Theodore asked as they had cleared the gate.

"Nothing important, Sho-sa.Some minor official has been trying all morning to speak to you. I told the comm center to hold all messages. Warlord Marcus Kurita's summons has higher priority than some local's desire to have his picture taken with the Heir-Designate.”

“Is that all he wanted?"

"Who knows?" Tourneville shrugged. "These provincials have no sense of importance. Warlord Kurita's desire to see you at the port control has priority."

Tourneville had shown rare initiative in determining the relative importance of messages to Theodore. Though undecided whether he was more annoyed at Tourneville's temerity or by the man's fawning reverence for cousin Marcus, Theodore merely replied, "Mustn't disappoint the Warlord."

10

Inbound from Rasalhague Jump Point

Rasalhague Military District, Draconis Combine

22 September 3019

 

"That is the first approach warning, Coordinator," Ivan Sorenson announced. "Time to prepare for the descent to the port."

"Very well, Tai-sho"Takashi Kurita said as he stood. "I have found our little talk about the Rasalhague situation quite interesting. Your perspective on my cousin Marcus's performance as Warlord is most enlightening."

As the two men left the tiny captain's lounge and entered the bridge of the DropShip, a pasty-faced crewman burst through the hatch.

"Body . . . dead . . . purple splotches," the man stammered.

Sorenson was on him in an instant, his two-meter height looming over the crewman.

"Stop babbling, crewman!" he growled. "I want a clear report."

The man made a visible effort to control himself. "Senior Tech Karlborgen. I found him in Engineering. He's dead, sir. It's awful. He's all covered in purple spots."

Sorenson wasted no time. As he turned to exit the bridge, he shouted, "Pull us back to a holding orbit, Dai-iN'kuma. I don't want us down till we find out what happened."

As he pounded the length of the ship, Sorenson considered the possibilities. He knew of no disease that would cause purple spots, making it likely that Beorn Karlborgen was the victim of foul play, be it some hideous poison or a tailored bioweapon. Whatever the cause, there was a murderer aboard. That meant trouble—and trouble was the last thing he wanted with the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine on board his DropShip. He had considered it a bit of good fortune when Marcus Kurita had suggested that the Tai-shopersonally meet the Coordinator at the jump point. Now that fortunate assignment was on the verge of becoming a curse. My honor becomes nil,he told himself, if anything threatens the Coordinator while he is in my care.

Sorenson reviewed his enemies, searching for a possible author for the day's trouble. When he could think of no one who had the opportunity, he started on possible enemies of the Coordinator. His thoughts shuddered to a halt when he confronted the backs of the crewmembers gathered around the body.

Sorenson shouldered his way through and looked at the body. The calm, composed face of the corpse struck him at once. Not murder, then. What have you done, Beorn?

Sorenson bent to examine the body. After a quick search, he was even more sure that the Senior Tech had killed himself.

"The ship controls are frozen," said someone at his shoulder.

Sorenson started at the voice, which was as cool and detached as though coming from beyond the grave. He turned, half-expecting to confront Beorn's ghost, and found himself looking at Takashi Kurita. The Coordinator had followed him.

"It seems that your Senior Tech wished to be an assassin and had not the courage to face the death he would give us."

Recovering his composure, Sorenson asked, "What do you mean?"

"The Dai-isays that the command of the ship is locked into autopilot. We are committed to a course that will crash us into the control center of the military portion of the spaceport at Reykjavik."

Takashi's words sparked a panic in the crew around them. Men and women scrambled in all directions, shouting and fighting among themselves. Several headed straight for an escape pod. The leader of that trio slapped the access control, screaming for the door to hurry up. All three wailed their dismay when the pod launched without ever opening its door.

"Very thorough," Takashi commented. "All outbound communications are blocked, replaced by computer simulations of routine messages. The control center is unaware of our plight."

"He was a superior Tech," Sorenson agreed, infected by the calm of the Coordinator. "Does the Dai-ithink the override could be broken?"

"Not in time."

"Then we are trapped."

"Unless you can grow wings or walk on air like the fabled tenshin."

Sorenson started to shake his head. The Coordinator's comment sparked a desperate plan.

"There may be a chance," he said. "Come, Tono."

Sorenson led the Coordinator to the BattleMech bay.

The Coordinator must have divined Sorenson's plan as soon as they reached their destination.

"The 'Mechs are not equipped for orbital drop."

"No, Tono.We have the shells and maneuver units on board, but there is no time to rig them up. My Grasshopperhas jump jets, though, and we have already entered atmosphere. If we can get a 'Mech outside the ship, it may be possible to ride it down. It won't be a pleasant trip and the landing will be rough, but it's a chance."

"The Dragon approves audacity, Tai-sho."

Sorenson suspected that Takashi was a superior 'Mech pilot. Hoping that the Coordinator would understand, he said, "There's no time to clear the safety locks and to wipe the neurocircuits clean for you, so I'll have to pilot it."

The Coordinator nodded.

They rode the lift to cockpit level in silence, rising high above the deck where crewmembers scurried in panic.

"Better let me in first, Tono.I'll never get my bulk past you otherwise."

Sorenson squeezed through the narrow entry hatch. As he passed, he tugged the lever that unfolded the jumpseat and locked it in place. Most 'Mechs had such accommodations for passengers, but they were cramped, uncomfortable. The rider was locked in, able to see nothing more than brief glimpses of the controls and screens, unable to affect his fate. Briefly, Sorenson wondered how Takashi would take such helplessness. He himself would have been frantic.