Wasps were most frequently used as 'Mech unit scouts. They were fast, relatively light-armed and armored, and extremely maneuverable. With the fusion-heated jump jets tucked into legs and angular back-mounted packs, they could leap up to 180 meters six times their own length firing down on ground targets from the air or gaining a clear view of the surrounding terrain.
Even lying flat on his belly, Grayson recognized the machine. Though an eye had been painted over the scratched-out clenched-fist insignia on the front of the left leg, 'Mechs especially the much-painted and battle-worn ones were as unique as individual humans. This was a Carlyle's Commandos Wasp, captured during the battle that had stranded Grayson on Trellwan. His trained eye searched for new damage, but detected none. It was possible that Mendelson had abandoned the machine during the evacuation, rather than lost it in battle.
Who was piloting it now, Grayson wondered? It might be a rookie, an apprentice next in line for a newly acquired BattleMech. Or, it could just as easily be a battle-experienced Mech Warrior who had lost his own 'Mech in combat. Whoever it was seemed to be handling the machine well enough. The movements were smooth, and the rapidly striding walk was natural and confident.
The Wasp was bearing down on him. Grayson forced himself to remain where he was, unmoving. Of all the panicked people now fleeing the invading 'Mechs, he alone had actually piloted one, and knew what it must look like to the warrior inside the cramped confinement of that tiny head. A person lying unmoving on the pavement would go unnoticed, appearing as nothing more than a stationary blur of heat-color on the IR scan. Only if he moved, or looked as though he were readying a weapon would the lightning fall...
The ferrocrete danced and jittered under him.Wasps weighed only 20 tons, the lightest class of 'Mechs, but the alternating pedal pressure of 20 striding tons slammed the ground like vast pile drivers. Those long-extinct giants of old Earth known as elephants weighed only a third what a Wasp did, and this present-day monster bore that weight on two legs.
The massive, inverted Y of a flanged foot swung up, descended, booming. The creaks and metal-grating protests of flanges and carballoy joints piped and squeaked in the dust-filled air as the foot rose again, and the monster's shadow swept across and past Grayson's cowering form.
When he looked up, a flat but crumple-textured grey rectangle on the pavement nearby caught his attention. It took him a moment to recognize the heavy steel toolbox he'd taken from the hovercraft, flattened by the monster's tread. A scattering of tools had been driven into the tough surface of the ferrocrete, and were not like surreal decorations in the pavement. That had been close, he thought Another meter, and...
Grayson dared to lift his head to look up... up... and up. The monster stood in the street ten meters away, its back toward him as it surveyed the steaming crater and the shredded fence. From its altitude, Grayson guessed the pilot must be reporting to other 'Mechs or troops. He could fool a passing 'Mech by playing dead, but a platoon of enemy troops was another matter. Grayson looked
around, eyes wild, desperate for a hiding place. Doors lined the buildings facing the street, all closed, probably bolted. As if a deadbolt could exclude a BattleMech that had decided it wanted to enter!
The 'Mech was moving again, striding rapidly toward the fence, and then straight into its iron bars. Grayson heard a cracking like the sound of gunshots as the iron gave way. For an instant, the monster stood entangled by the barrier almost hip-high to it. Then it kicked, splintering concrete foundations. The entire length of fencing twisted free and collapsed. The Wasp strode into the Palace Garden, brushing aside flowering shrubs and trees with even greater ease. Then it stopped, pivotted, and brought the long, black tube of its laser cannon to bear on some unseen target to Grayson's right. The flash of the laser discharge was searing blue, intolerably bright. When his eyes could see through the dancing haze of spots before him again, the 'Mech was moving further up the hill toward the Palace.
Grayson's head snapped around, following the 'Mech's progress. It looked as though one phase of the attackers' plan had fallen into place. That first attack earlier must have been a probing of the city defenses, organized so as to take plenty of prisoners. Grayson knew that any 'Mech operation in a hostile city required plenty of intelligence. Those prisoners would have been questioned, and at least some would have known the interior layout of the Palace. If the 'Mechs were attacking the Palace, Grayson reasoned, they must plan to capture or kill the Royal Family and various members of the government.
Mara! She would be there by now. What would happen to her? And what could he do? Unarmed, alone, the only way he could slow a 'Mech was if the machine happened to slip as it pulped his body underfoot Grayson didn't plan on trying that tactical maneuver anytime soon.