Somehow, Grayson managed to click on the tacradio at his throat. "Evade and escape! Rendezvous when you can back at the Arsenal! Quickly!" Then the night lit up with fire and death as gunners on the Castle's flanks opened fire with tracers and turret-mounted lasers, sweeping death and horror across the parade ground.
"Let's get out of here, Larressen..."
"Larressen's had it Lieutenant."
Only then did Grayson look at his rescuer. For some reason he'd assumed it was Larressen, but it was the blackened face of a private from the demo team that stared at him with concern. What was the name? Greer, that was it He was one of the new 'Mech pilot recruits..
"That... that thing stepped on him," Greer was saying haltingly, "like he was an insect"
"Let's go. We'll even the score later." Even with the pain in his leg, Grayson found he could run with a free-swinging limp.
With a party of four other survivors, he made his way down the mountain.
22
General Adel flung the printouts down on his desk, and nailed Grayson with a hard look. "Twenty-eight dead or missing," he said. "Twenty-eight out of fifty. This is not what we've come to expect of your unit here at the Palace, you know. Well? What do you have to say about it, Lieutenant?"
"It... it was a trap, General."
"Indeed?"
"They had that Shadow Hawk rigged to look like it was under repair. They must've had the pilot stuffed in the cockpit, flat on his back for hours just to..."
"I am not interested in the Shadow Hawk pilot's comfort, Lieutenant! I am interested in what I'm going to put into the report I must submit to His Majesty."
"Yes, sir."
"This does not bode well for the First Lancers, you understand. I know that the Royal Guard, in, particular has gone out of its way to provide your unit with weapons and equipment already in short supply. Critics will point out that this effort was wasted, thrown away to no purpose."
"But General! You..."
"Silence!"
Grayson remained rigidly at attention, clamping down on the emotions boiling within him. This was unfair! He had had nothing but trouble getting requisitions through the Guard supply bureaucracy, and now...
"I never have approved of this project, Carlyle. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"I certainly never expected His Majesty would establish anything like an elite unit elsewhere than within the structure of the Guard. I expect General Varney was responsible for this idiotic notion of having the Lancers be an independent unit Eh? Well?
I wouldn't know, sir."
"Hmm, no, I expect not." Adel leaned back in his chair, carefully crossing one leg over the other. "Well, be advised that that's all changing, as of now."
"Sir?"
"That surprises you, eh? Well, Varney is out of the picture, Carlyle, and the First Trellwan Lancers are, as of this period, being redesignated as E Company, Tenth Royal Guards. They will be under my direct command."
The room swam in Grayson's eyes. What Adel was saying did not make sense. "Sir... I..."
"You will turn over all records and files to your successor. Captain Nolem." Adel looked up from his desk at Carlyle, astonishment softening his voice. "You didn't think you'd actually keep the Lance, did you? You're young, Carlyle, too young for a command of such responsibility. The job was just too big for you. Try not to feel too..."
"Do you mean the Lancers aren't mine anymore?" Grayson cut in dully.
"That's exactly what I mean, Lieutenant. You are relieved. As you were never actually a member of the Trellwan armed forces other than through a special act by the King, I fail to see how they ever could have been... yours.
"At any rate, a company rates a captain, and you can't expect us to twist the whole structure of military command around just to accommodate you, do you? You will be retained as special advisor. Your knowledge of 'Mechs and 'Mech tactics makes you invaluable to us." Adel's eyebrows came together, his eyes narrowing. "That means no more of your gallivanting around in a combat zone. I will not risk having you killed and losing your expertise!"
"Sir, Sergeant Kalmar is..."
"That young lady is an enemy alien. She should never have been given rank or position within our armed forces! You were the one responsible for that gaff, I believe? Well, don't worry. As I said, you are young, inexperienced."
"What will happen to her?"
"That, Lieutenant, is none of your business."
"General, I demand..."
"You'll demand nothing, Lieutenant!"
"But..."
"Enough! I've wasted more time with you than I can spare. Dismissed!" With that, a sentry ushered Grayson out and into the marble corridors of the Palace.
General Adel stared after Grayson for long, hard seconds after he'd been escorted out. The young Commonwealther would have to be watched, and watched closely. It was always dangerous to allow any one man too much power. And control of the Lancers? No, he reminded himself, not the Lancers. It was control of the Tenth Regiment that meant power. Men would do anything to win power, and to hold it. Young Carlyle was very popular with his men. General Adel believed popular military commanders were never to be trusted.