* * *
Sorenson opened his eyes to see the sun sinking into the fens. Backlit before him was the three-quarter-buried shape of his Grasshopper.Little more than its torso showed above the fire-blackened sedges and brackish water where it lay. The head, cockpit access hatch gaping, hung limply on a narrow thread of cables, and its right arm jutted from the marsh. Sorenson knew from its angle that the arm was no longer attached to the 'Mech's shoulder.
Grasshopper leaps far.
At home in an autumn marsh
Dies like samurai.
It took Sorenson a moment to realize that the words spoken behind his head came from a living person and not from some frog-voiced marsh spirit. He rolled on his side to see the speaker.
There was Takashi Kurita, sitting calmly. His folded legs showed bare and bruised, as did his left arm. He was smeared all over with mud and dried blood. A soiled, bloodstained white rag was wrapped around his head like a ancient warrior's hachimaki.
"Your BattleMech is a total wreck," Takashi Kurita told him. "Sacrificed in your effort to save us from the doomed Startreader.For some time, I thought you, too, had moved onward."
Sorenson tried to chuckle, but the sound he made was too ghastly to express humor. "I'm in too much pain to be dead."
"You have my gratitude and I shall reward you for today's deeds," Takashi said. "At the very least, I shall see that you receive a replacement for your machine."
"A new 'Mech would be appreciated, Tono,but I need no reward for doing my duty."
"Spoken like a true samurai. But you will be rewarded nonetheless. All scales must be balanced, and your reward must balance the punishment inflicted on those responsible."
Sorenson contemplated what that punishment might be. The lucky ones would have a quick death or a quiet life in the Black Tower. Somehow he didn't think there would be too many lucky ones involved in this plot. The conspirators' luck had run out when they failed to kill the Coordinator.
Takashi gazed at the sunset until the last rim of the orange sun dropped below the horizon. In the twilight, he spoke again, and his voice had that adamant quality attributed to Emma-Hoo, Judge of the Dead and Lord of the Buddhist hells.
"Those involved have forfeited the right to life. The conspirators and their families, all of the plotters' generation, their parents and their children, shall be put to death. No child shall survive to avenge a parent, nor parent take revenge for a child. I will see this conspiracy ground out completely."
13
Palace Hall, Reykjavik, Rasalhague
Rasalhague Military District, Draconis Combine
23 September 3019
Theodore looked up at the frowning gray stone facade of the sprawling Palace Hall, seat of government for the planet and the District of Rasalhague. Yesterday, he had expected that when he passed through its iron-bound, studded doors, he would be wearing a formal black kimono, his long nape hair oiled and bound into a topknot. Yesterday, he had expected to be on his way to his wedding.
He mounted the steps at an awkward pace, irritated at their shallow rise and exaggerated width. The strides he took would not have been possible in a kimono, but the trichloropolyester trousers he wore offered no restraint. The pants were the same dark gray as his jersey and matched his grim mood.
A full company of infantry from the auxiliaries of the Eight Rasalhague Regulars guarded the doors, but they passed Theodore without question.
He found his father in the Governor's office, seated behind a massive oaken desk. Aides and generals looked up at Theodore's sudden intrusion. Takashi bade them, leave. In a clatter of comp pads and murmur of hushed comments, they gathered their materials. Takashi swiveled his chair to one side and eased a bandaged leg gingerly onto a stool. The departing attendants kept their eyes low as they filed past
Theodore, who stood in the center of the room, hands clenched at his sides.
Last to leave was Subhash Indrahar, who touched Theodore's shoulder as he passed. An electric feeling of confidence shocked Theodore. He controlled his surprise and only nodded to the Director. Indrahar's smile was warm, but Theodore did not let it touch the icy resolve he had nurtured during his walk from the military camp at the starport. As the doors closed softly behind him, Theodore raged, "How can you sit there and let this go on?"
Takashi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "To what exactly do you refer?"
Theodore strode up to the desk, slamming his palms against the wood and leaning forward. "The executions of innocent people. How can you do it?"
"How can I not?" Takashi replied, gently massaging one of the many plastiflesh patches covering the lacerations on his face.
"It is barbaric—criminal."
Takashi lowered his hand and turned baleful eyes on his son. "You pride yourself on your knowledge of the classics, so I assume you are familiar with Heike Monogatari."
"Of course," Theodore returned sharply. He was bothered by the change in subject, but knew his father would not proceed until he had satisfied his pedantry. "What self-respecting scholar or warrior does not know of it? The tale recounts the war between the Taira and the Minamoto. That war resulted in the first ruling shogunate of old Japan."
"So ka,"Takashi grunted. "Are you also familiar with the antecedents of the final struggle between those clans?"
Theodore was truly annoyed. Tetsuhara- sensei'svoice urged him: Answer with the expected words, even when they belie your heart's true reply, and your enemy will open his mind to you.
All right, I'll give him the answer he wants to hear. Then maybe he will let me see what he really wants."The Taira had all but eliminated the Minamoto in their struggle for influence over the Emperor. But two young Minamoto boys escaped the purges of the victors. They were the brothers Yoritomo and Yoshitsune. When they grew to manhood, they revived their clan, led it against the Taira and destroyed their enemy. Yoritomo became the first shogun."
Takashi smiled with satisfaction. "Thus, you see that what I do is necessary. I can leave no survivors of the conspiracy and I cannot leave possible seeds of a new one."
"What about Marcus?" Theodore countered.
"There is no solid evidence. He was elsewhere when the communique you received was sent from his offices. It cannot be proved that he wished you present for the fatal crash. There is only the word of a traitorous assassin that he was involved in the sabotage of the Startreader."
"Surely you don't believe that he is innocent," Theodore said incredulously. Takashi said nothing. "If we had both been killed in the crash of the Startreader,he would have taken the office of Coordinator."
"You forget your cousin and my nephew, Isoroku. He would have been recalled from his monastery to take up the office of Coordinator."
"He would have been dead before he reached Luthien," Theodore snapped. "If Marcus was ready to go after us, he would have had no qualms about a mouse like Isoroku. That monk would never have a chance against such a predator."