"If Carlyle warns them, our advantage is lost, and we are reduced to defending an otherwise insignificant ball of rock blessed with unusually wretched weather, and for no good purpose at all. This world is useless as a base without the advantage of surprise!"
"Yes, my Lord."
Ricol turned back to the map and studied it for several moments. "You have helicopters?"
"I do, my Lord. Four are down for
repairs, but there are a pair of Warrior H-7 attack ships, and a Karnav UR transport. We have been using them for reconnaissance flights and for quick trips between the Castle and the port."
"I can contribute two more Warriors. Not enough for that jagged wilderness, but they will have to do." He pointed to the mountains north of Mount Gayal, then to the plains and mountain foothills to the east. "I want these areas patrolled, starting at once. Something as large as three BattleMechs should be easy enough to spot even in rugged terrain, and they MUST be there. There is no other intelligent choice for them. When we find them, we'll flush them out with two or three 'Mech Lances. We'll take them wherever they hide. And Carlyle will die."
"Yes, my Lord."
"See to it Singh. I have work to do."
Singh saluted, fist raised to heart, then snapped it up and out, stiff-fingered. Ricol turned his attention to a small computer screen on his desk.
Carlyle was an unexpected complication in the Plan, but it was such complications that added spice to the Great Hunt. Perhaps the Red Hunter himself would lead the ground pursuit of these rebels. It had been too long since he had personally taken the con of a 'Mech in battle. The thought stirred Ricol's blood, and brought a dark smile to his bearded face.
25
As the Locust proceeded up the rambling eastern slopes of Mount Gayal, the ground became progressively rockier and more broken. Trellwan's fierce, week-long storms had gouged out deep gullies that twisted and wound down the mountainsides. It was still dark, but the eastern sky showed a hint of pearl gray along the horizon, marking the beginning of Trellwan's long twilight. Sunrise was still two standard days away. Though still night, the temperature was rising, and had been ever since Far Passage a week before. Snow clouds hovered above the mountains, and the icy peaks glinted in the predawn light
Inside the Locust, it was hot and growing hotter. Lori had boosted the power output of the 'Mech's reactor as the terrain grew steeper, and the heat sinks were struggling to keep up with the system's waste heat Grayson had propped open both the inner seal and the outer hatch, but the opening was not enough to cool the cockpit. He'd long since removed his uniform jacket and shirt, and Lori was down to a light, short-sleeved pullover and her briefs. Sweat beaded her face under the neural helmet, and molded the shirt to each swell and curve of her torso. Her legs were long and sleek.
It was hard not to notice how attractive she was, even in the heat of that cramped cockpit.
Lori turned her head and caught Grayson's gaze. "Forget it, Lieutenant," she said. She sounded tired. "I'm not interested."
"Neither am I, Sergeant. Neither am I. Just drive, huh?"
Grayson thought he detected a flash of hurt in Lori's eyes before she turned back to face the IR imaging screen. The Locust continued climbing, its broad, flanged feet making their way on the treacherous ground using Lori's own sense of balance.
A warning light flashed on the console.
"Aircraft," Lori said. "Coming in from the south... low and fast"
"O.K. We make like a rock." He reached behind him and pulled the hatch shut cutting off the trace of cold air seeping in from outside. "Shut down the sinks."
The Locust hunkered down, its back-canted legs folding under to lower the cockpit to within a few meters of the ground. As they sank to earth, the surrounding boulders seemed to rise from the ground all around them, sheltering them. With the heat sinks closed off, the 'Mech was no longer dumping excess heat into the cold atmosphere. Its hull would still be hotter than the surrounding boulders and detectable on an infra-red scanner, but geysering plumes of heat would no longer act like white-hot flares to attract a searcher's attention.
They waited. Though the Locust was no longer moving, the power plant was still running, and there was no way to rid the machine of heat. The temperature soared to 45 degrees. Grayson allowed Lori and himself a swallow of tepid water from the cockpit water tank, and mopped his face with his shirt. How much longer would this go on? Lori didn't look like she could take much more; She sat slouched in the seat, her hand on the 'Mech's machine gun controls, her eyes half-closed and her lips parted.
"Do you want me to take the controls awhile, Sergeant?" Despite himself, he whispered. There was no way that helicopter could detect their voices, but the sense of an enemy very close, listening, was hard to fight.
She shook
her head. "No. I'd rather... be DOING something. Anything."