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  "Nor do I." Victor retreated to the corner of the room and pulled a box from beneath his meager tree. "I didn't think I'd have a chance to give this to you until you'd returned." He extended the package to Kai. "Merry Christmas, my friend."

  Kai accepted the package wordlessly. Its white and red striped paper felt crisp and clean beneath his fingers, and the package felt weighty. Kai tipped it up and broke the tape on the narrow end. Carefully and slowly, he unfolded the wrappings.

  Victor looked petulant. "That's not how to open a present. You're supposed to tear the paper apart."

  Kai raised an eyebrow. "I must have missed that law."

  "It's not a law yet," Victor laughed. "Just wait till I take the throne."

  Kai chuckled as he slid the box from the tube of wrapping paper. He pulled off the top and secured it to the bottom of the box. "Victor," he exclaimed, "this is great."

  Victor beamed as Kai pulled the stainless steel survival knife and plastic sheath from the box. "They told me that it was treated not to rust even in what passes for oceans on this rock. The hilt is hollow and contains matches, some medical stuff, and a cord-saw. You can fix the sheath to your boot and keep it with you in your 'Mech."

  "I'll bet that this baby could saw through some 'Mech armor," Kai allowed as he lightly passed his finger over the serrated edge of the blade, "but I don't think I'll want to get that close."

  "I know that, but you're the one who had to find alternate transport home from Twycross, not me." Victor gave Kai a devilish grin. "I've got Sun Hou-Tzu to keep me safe, and you've got the knife."

  For the first time since they'd landed on Alyina, the sense of impending doom that had weighed Kai down began to lift. "It's best to be safe, but we don't have to worry too much. I keep my bargains."

  Victor's brows met, revealing his confusion. "Come again?"

  "Don't you remember? When you said you'd get me a 'Mech so I could be in the fight on Twycross, I asked if I had to wait twenty years to thank you for that opportunity. You said yes, so that would mean we were certain to be alive in twenty years. Well, it worked on Twycross, and we've got nineteen more years to go."

  The Prince nodded slowly. "Of course, Kai, now I remember. And thanks to you I'm able to hold up my end of the bargain."

  "And I you." Kai closed the knife box. "Well, I'd best let you get on with whatever you had planned for today."

  "Wait, Kai. How long until you've got duty?"

  "About six hours." He hefted the box. "I'll go stash this in Yen-lo-wang and do some reading before watch. Or, if the rumors are true and they've got a holovid of Ken Tom's new discovery, Jake Lonestar, taking the title on Solaris, maybe I'll watch that."

  "No way." Victor picked up the Stone Monkey carving and fastened the leather thong around his neck. "You're coming with me to Duke Kuchel's estate for Christmas dinner. I want at least one person there I enjoy talking with."

  "But his estate's an hour from here by helicopter. For me to get back in time means we'll only be able ..."

  "... to spend four hours there." Victor's grin seemed to match the irreverent leer on the Stone Monkey's face. "You'll save me tracking Galen down and forcing him to call me with 'urgent business' later on. My original plan would have left me stuck there for six hours."

  Kai shrugged hopelessly, but felt good. "All right. I'm happy to go with you. Four hours with the cream of Alyina's aristocrats?"

  Victor frowned. "Yeah. If worse comes to worse, we'll manufacture a crisis and get back here faster."

  Though they found the party was neither worse nor better than expected, the two comrades never did have to manufacture a crisis to save them. Within two hours of their arrival, Kai and Victor were in a helicopter headed back to headquarters. The reports were not good.

  The Clans had appeared insystem and would make planetfall in eleven days. And with that news, Kai's premonition of doom returned full force.

  36

  Unity Palace, Imperial City, Luthien

  Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine

  26 December 3051

  Theodore Kurita's decision to forego formal welcoming ceremonies for the mercenaries pleased Shin Yodama. Having been on Outreach, he disagreed with court protocol experts, who said that such a breach of honor would doom any hopes of a productive working relationship between Combine and mercenary forces. Theodore had reasoned, and Shin agreed, that a formal welcoming ceremony would only give many of the High Command who still felt contemptuous of mercenaries an opportunity to air their counterproductive attitudes.

  Shin waited along with Theodore, Hohiro, and the leaders of the Combine defense forces in the cedar-walled reception chamber beneath the palace's helipad. He felt a mild tremor ripple through the floor as the helicopter landed and a shaft of sun streamed down the staircase from above. As the mercenaries began to descend, the whooping of the helicopter rotors drowned out the sound of their boot heels on the circular stone stairway.

  Jaime Wolf was the first of the four men to appear. He bowed to Theodore, then approached to offer his hand. "Konnichi-wa, Kanrei-sa/na. I wish the circumstances were better for renewing our acquaintance."

  Theodore, having returned the bow in both depth and duration, shook Wolf's hand heartily. "I agree this is not the most pleasant of occasions, but your presence makes it less oppressive. Still, I imagine a Christian hell or two has frozen over because of your arrival here on Luthien."

  Morgan Kell smiled as he shook Theodore's hand. "We were speculating that Dante's Inferno would now have to be retitled Spark."

  The Combine's Prince laughed politely at the joke and Shin smiled, though the reference went right by him. Theodore offered his hand to MacKenzie Wolf in greeting, then hesitated before the fourth man in the group.

  Tall and broad-shouldered, the man wore the double-breasted shirt of the Kell Hounds' dress uniform, as did Colonel Kell. Shin noted that the man's eyes indicated an oriental bloodline, and his deferential attitude toward Theodore gave the impression that he must formerly have been from the Combine. His bronze hair and light-colored eyes led Shin to guess he was from the Rasalhague District. The ribbons sewn to the left ear of the wolf's-head on the man's jacket suggested he had been with the Hounds for a long time. Yet, even with those clues, Shin had no idea who the officer was.

  The man bowed deeply to Theodore. "Konnichi-wa, Kurita Theodore-sa/na. It is the fulfillment of a life's desire to meet with you again and to stand with you as an ally."

  "I am most honored to welcome you back to the Combine." Theodore bowed respectfully, then straightened up to his full height. "Akira Brahe, you have come a long way since your time in the Second Legion of Vega."

  At the mention of the man's name, Shin began to recall the little he knew of the man. Akira was the son of one of the Combine's greatest MechWarriors, Yorinaga Kurita. In 3013, at the head of the Second Sword of Light, Yorinaga had killed Prince Ian Davion, Hanse's elder brother. Thirteen years later, he killed Patrick Kell, Morgan Kell's younger brother. Three years after that, Yorinaga and Morgan fought a duel on Nusakan that culminated in Yorinaga's committing seppuku. Akira repudiated his ties with the Combine after his father's suicide, left the Genyosha, and joined the Kell Hounds.

  Shin shot a glance at Narimasa Asano. The gray-haired man smiled as Akira bowed, and then he returned the bow. "I recall that, twenty years ago, we did not look forward to meeting a next time because it could only mean contest in battle. How fortunate that life has proved us wrong."

  "Most fortunate, Asano-sama."

  Theodore completed introductions between the two groups. Hideyoshi and the First Sword's Yoshida looked less than pleased to see mercenaries on Luthien, but Shin knew their displeasure had even deeper roots. Both men had favored formal ceremonies to greet the mercenaries, less to give honor than to keep Theodore's father away from such an event.

  That would have been incredible, Shin thought as he visualized a meeting between Jaime Wolf and Takashi Kurita. The last such took place
at Hanse Davion's wedding more than twenty years ago, and had become something of a legend. Jaime Wolf, whom the Coordinator had tried to have killed, took Takashi to task for his lack of honor. Later that year, after suffering a minor stroke, Takashi issued his infamous Death to Mercenaries order that had alienated so many officers, Akira Brahe included. As nearly as Shin knew, Takashi still awaited the day when someone would deliver Jaime Wolf's head to him in a box.

  The Kanrei conducted his entourage to an elevator, which took them down to an auxiliary briefing room next to the command center. Shin and Hohiro both logged onto terminals in the room, starting data feeds pouring information onto their screens. With the flick of a finger, either man could summarize the data into charts holographically projected above the meeting table.

  Theodore stood with his back to the double doors of the black room. Jaime Wolf and Morgan Kell stood facing him at the far end of the table. The other officers filled the space between the Kanrei and the mercenaries, with Akira Brahe and Narimasa Asano at Theodore's right. Near the center of the group, Shin and Hohiro formed a buffer between the Combine officers and the mercenary leaders.

  Theodore wasted no time getting started. "Before your arrival, we were looking at five crack regiments of 'Mechs: the First Sword of Light, the Otomo, both Genyosha regiments, and the Second Legion of Vega. We also had three militia regiments. Two were to be assigned to field operations against the Elementals, using analogs of the armor suits we captured on Wolcott. The third is an Omega regiment that will make any enemy pay dearly if it comes to house-to-house in Imperial City."

  With a nod from Theodore, Shin produced graphic representations of each unit's table of organization and equipment. Yoshida winced to see his unit's secrets revealed before men he had ever considered enemies, but Wolf's appreciative grunt and nodded salute clearly made him feel proud. Morgan Kell's dark gaze drank in all the information but, unlike Jaime, he did not reveal his thoughts.

  MacKenzie glanced at Theodore. "With one regiment in Imperial City, you must be planning to fight nearby. What is your choice of position?"

  The Kanrei signaled his son to provide a map. A green neon topographical representation of Imperial City and the surrounding area floated above the table. Small red rectangles represented the units to be used in defense of the capital.

  "Logistical necessities force us to battle within a fifty-klick radius of Imperial City. Luthien is so heavily industrialized that virtually any other venue would cause incalculable civilian injuries, not to mention damage to industry. We are fortunate that, aside from Turtle Bay, the Clans have fought a clean war. Even if they lost the battle but destroyed our industry, we would still be hamstrung. As it is, we intend to evacuate Imperial City the moment the Clans appear insystem."

  Theodore pointed to a flat plain that stood beyond the hills that ringed Imperial City like fortifications. "This is the Tairakana Plain. We intend to defend here, then use the hills to fight a delaying battle as we come back toward the city. The hills will shorten ranges so that the Clans no longer have a gross equipment advantage. Our companies that have undergone field modification will act as a harassing force to keep the enemy concentrated on one front. If the Clan forces want to spread out and encircle the city, that's to our advantage, but we cannot allow then to flank our forces and cut them off from the city."

  "Agreed." Morgan Kell stroked his snowy beard. "With us, you add seven regiments to your number, three of those—my first and two of Jamie's units—are equipped with Clan-type weaponry. With our strength added to yours, will you want to modify the plan?"

  Theodore folded his arms over his chest. "Not substantially. What I really hope to do is use your regiments as reserves to bolster our line." He nodded to Hohiro, and symbols for the mercenary regiments appeared in several locations in the hills. "We will be holding the only quick route through the hills, so if the Clans pierce our line, they will lay open the way to the capital. If we fail, the fate of Luthien is in your hands."

  "lie!"

  The fear and fury breathed into that single word shocked Shin. As his head snapped around, he saw Takashi Kurita stalking through the doors. Silhouetted by the light from the open door, the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine gave off outrage like heat waves from a fusion engine. He stopped before Jaime Wolf, giving the mercenary a cobra-like stare. "So, the rumor is true. My son brings his treason home with him."

  Takashi turned on his son. "It is not enough that you leave Luthien for nine months to consult with our enemy, but now you bring him here! Then I find you turning over to him responsibility for the safety of Imperial City!" Takashi faltered. "Maximilian Liao was fortunate in his child. At least Romano had the mercy to assassinate him before destroying his nation."

  "If that is truly your mind, shall I get a gun and shoot you?"

  At Theodore's reply, Yoshida and Hideyoshi looked in horror at the Coordinator, who seemed refueled rather than crushed by his son's words. Takashi's head came up and his dark eyes flashed ominously. "Your acquiescence comes too late to bring me solace. I have acknowledged your right to command the military forces of the Combine, and I would not unman you by stripping you of your office now." He fought to keep pain from his face. "Do not emasculate your own nation by putting the fate of our Imperial City in the hands of yohei units."

  Theodore pointed toward the map. "As you can see, father, our forces are arrayed to bear the brunt of the attack. We will do all we can to be sure we never need the mercenaries' help. It is the DCMS that defends the capital; the mercenaries are only here to offer support." The Kanrei fell silent, the muscles of his face working as he struggled for inner control. "Besides, father, what unit would we draw off to ward the capital? We have no others."

  Takashi shook his head as though rebuking a foolish child. "You have one more unit, Kanrei." His tone dripped scorn. "It is the one composed of my own bodyguards and of Mech Warriors who fought boldly long before you were born. These troops are known as the Dragon's Claws." The Coordinator raised his head and matched his son's stare without surrendering anything. "We will draw the line, and with me at their head, not a single Clansmen will cross it."

  37

  Stortalar City, Gunzburg

  Radstadt Province, Free Rasalhague Republic

  31 December 3051

  To set foot once more into the Iron Jarl's antechamber sent a chill down Phelan Wolf's spine. With his ceremonial Wolf mask hiding his face, none who guided him toward Tor Miraborg's office guessed his identity or that he might have reason for unpleasant memories of the place. These guides had not been present two and a half years earlier when Jarlwards had conducted Phelan, severely beaten and half naked, to see their master.

  And they wouldn't know that his office was the last place I ever saw Tyra. Phelan recalled the few minutes they'd had together, holding one another on the red leather bench in the room. This is where she gave me the belt buckle she'd made. He let his anger at Vlad rekindle his hatred for Tor Miraborg. If not for her father, Tyra would have come with him and the Kell Hounds, and he'd never have ended up on his odyssey with the Clans.

  The hooded, charcoal gray cloak Phelan wore was just a shade darker than his leather garments and enamel mask. The cloak's wolf-fur trim broadened the shoulders of his silhouette and gave him a more imposing air. The mask, whose jutting muzzle and bared teeth resembled the head of his

  Wolfhound, made him look truly ferocious. None of his escorts got too close, not did they speak to him unnecessarily.

  As for Phelan, he spoke not at all.

  He had disguised himself according to Natasha's suggestion because he relished the idea of fooling Tor Miraborg. Yet on the way down to the planet and after being met by lesser officials, his outlook on his mission changed. Were he there only to take revenge on Miraborg, he would have done anything to shatter the man.

  I would have treated him as Vlad treated me.

  That was the realization that struck Phelan just after stepping from the shuttle Carew ha
d piloted down to the Gunzburg. While greeting Miraborg's envoys, he saw their unmistakable terror. All paid him great deference, continually apologizing for what they feared might be Tor Miraborg's hostile reaction to him. As one explained, "Well, the Varldherre is a military man, jal You will understand him and his ways, jaT

  Suddenly Phelan's little game took on great importance. Not only must he win Gunzburg's surrender for the honor of the Wolves, fie also had to win it for the people of Gunzburg. Should he fail and the mission fall to Marcos to complete, Phelan knew the Crusader would stop at nothing for a quick victory. Nor would Marcos shrink from acts of brutality if he thought they could redeem him.

  First, I win the planet's freedom, then I make the Iron Jarl pay!

  When a civilian official opened the door to the Iron Jarl's office, Phelan felt as though his last time here was only hours before, not years. Seated in his wheelchair behind a massive mahogany desk, Tor Miraborg still looked every bit the strong leader a world like Gunzburg needed. His silver hair was trimmed short and shaved at the temples as though he were planning to strap himself into a 'Mech when the invasion came. The stripes of dark hair in his white beard still tugged down at the corners of his mouth, reminding Phelan of a badger's striped fur.

  Even more memories were aroused by the scar bisecting the left side of Miraborg's face from eyebrow to beard. Phelan remembered how the people of Rasalhague had hated mercenaries after Vinson's Vigilantes caused Miraborg's crippling and scarring. An identical scar marring the face of Miraborg's tall blond aide reminded Phelan of how fanatical had become the devotion of Gunzburg's citizens, many of whom disfigured themselves voluntarily. The scar also reminded him again of Vlad and the Clansman's hatred for him.

  The official who opened the door and ushered Phelan in began the introductions, but Miraborg waved her off. "I think the ilKhan's envoy knows who I am. My aide is Hanson Kuusik, a Kapten with the Gunzburg Eagles Aerospace Regiment."