Heat levels in the Wolfhound spiked into the yellow zone on the monitors. Because the battle was not being fought with live weapons, and all the damage occurred only in the computer's memory, the scorching waves of heat Dan would have experienced in combat did not wash up into the cockpit. Still, Dan saw the primary monitor's status downgrade his top speed as the 'Mech labored to rid itself of the simulated excess heat.
Dan ducked the Wolfhound back down into the ravine. They know I've hit Brand. Studying the map, he decided that they must have found this ravine and were probably tracking him now. He smiled grimly. The Wolfhound's designer had obviously built this monster to engage Panthers because there was enough armor on it to survive a couple of PPC shots. Better to be the hunter than the hunted.
Dan worked the Wolfhound back through the ravine in the direction from which he'd come. Taking a sharp corner, he moved down into a spot where the ravine widened as a stream cut across. Haunting flashes of magscan images danced on his display. Dan dropped the Wolfhound to one knee, raised the right arm, and targeted the golden crosshairs at the ravine mouth across from him.
When the lead Panther was impaled on Dan's sights, he triggered his large laser. As sheets of armor vanished from the 'Mech's right flank, the Panther twisted to the left to protect its wounded side and then ducked back beneath cover.
The twin ignitions of ion rockets splashed silver brilliance through the woods behind the wounded Panther. A second Panther arced up through the night like a shooting star trying to reclaim its place in the heavens. Dan tried to track it, but the 'Mech moved too swiftly. It grounded itself off to his left.
He frowned. It’ll try to flank me while its partner tries to pin me down. Wait a minute. . . Dan stared at the display and saw the Panther he had expected to flank him begin to work back toward its partner. Something's not right here.
Suddenly, as the two 'Mechs facing him moved from cover, Dan realized what they were doing. The image of Brand's 'Mech appeared at his back and raised its PPC.
"Good bye, Captain Allard."
23
Arc-Royal
District of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth
3 March 3028
The Wolfhound's rear-arc laser lanced backward and pierced Brand's left flank. The computer, simulating the effect of a laser bolt on an SRM magazine, painted explosion after explosion over the outline of the 'Mech behind the Wolfhound. As the explosions cleared, they left nothing of the Panther's image behind.
Both the other Panthers launched flights of SRMs at the Wolfhound. The missiles scattered impacts on and around the 'Mech, scoring armor but doing no serious damage. The wounded Panther's PPC shot lashed the Wolfhound's already-damaged left arm. Alarm lights flared to life in the Wolfhound's cockpit as the computer reported that limb completely severed at the shoulder.
Instinctively shifting his weight to balance the 'Mech, Dan dropped the large laser's sights onto the wounded Panther. Good! Give me your wounded flank. He stabbed the firing button, sending a spear of cohesive light into the injured 'Mech. The last of the armor shown on the computer image vanished, and the 'Mech shuddered as it suffered serious internal damage.
The flanking Panther's PPC blast sliced armor from the Wolfhound's left leg, but a quick glance at the primary monitor told Dan that the leg armor had not been fully breached. Mindful of the rising levels on his heat monitor, he did not return fire at the Panther that was still whole.
The Wolfhound's feet dug into the gravel streambed as Dan sprinted straight at the undamaged 'Mech. The pilot raised the Panther's PPC for a simple shot at the charging Wolfhound, but the speedy war machine closed the gap before the pilot could trigger the weapon.
Dan laughed as the Wolfhound swept in beneath the PPC's effective minimum range. SRMs burst from the Panther's chest and managed to blast away the last remnant of the Wolfhound's left leg armor. Heedless of the damage the missiles had done, Dan targeted the Panther and fired everything he had.
The medium lasers converged on the Panther's chest, chipping away every shred of armor over the 'Mech's heart. Enough of the energy blasting away the armor leaked through to destroy the SRM launcher. The large laser in the Wolfhound's right forearm stabbed into the Panther's right shoulder. The holographic display showed layers of armor exploding from the 'Mech's limb, leaving it nearly naked.
Dan continued past the Panther, then dug the Wolfhound's left foot into the ground and whirled. His spin and its agility of execution caught both Panthers by surprise. Expecting a free shot at his back, the furthest Panther had risen from cover while the 'Mech Dan had just savaged managed a turn to aim its PPC at the fleeing Wolfhound.
The Wolfhound's medium lasers unerringly cored three tunnels through the nearest Panther's right arm. The computer imaging system showed the limb snapping off at the shoulder before flying off into the night. The Wolfhound's large laser slammed into the furthest 'Mech's open right flank, burning through what little was left of it, straight into the Mech's heart. The beam, according to the computer, melted all the shielding around the Panther's fusion engine, shutting it down forever.
The weaponless Panther rocketed from combat on the ion jump jets in its legs, and Dan let it go because warning lights ignited throughout his cockpit. Long-range missiles incoming! "What the hell!" he exclaimed. Dan's secondary monitor showed incoming tracks for two score LRMs—and all converging on one spot.
Almost without conscious thought, Dan sprinted the Wolfhound forward, heading straight toward the source of the LRMs. He grinned as the missiles, unable to shorten their trajectories to compensate for his speed, arced over his position. Dan punched two keys on his command console. The computer calculated the origin point for all the missile tracks while his visual scan shifted back to infrared.
He nodded in thought. Twin LRM 20 packs are going to kick out lots of heat. There'll be no hiding it. Dan punched an inquiry into the computer, then smiled as the answer came up on the screen. Yeah. Morgan's Archer is the only 'Mech we have that sports two LRM 20s.
After the computer track projection displayed the coordinates of the attack's origin, Dan turned the Wolfhound so that the coordinate grid marks on the top of the screen pointed him straight in the direction of Morgan's Archer.
He gave a little laugh. O.K., Morgan, I know what your Archer's got. Hiding behind that hill won't help you. Dan increased his speed, sending the 35-ton Wolfhound hurling through the low brush covering the hillside. Once I crest this baby, your LRMs won't have range on me. This close, my Wolfhound out-guns your Archer's twin lasers.
The Wolfhound sprinted over the hilltop, but no heat image painted itself on the computer display. Dan shifted the scanners over to Starlight, and the holographic display redrew itself in the grays and greens of light intensification. Gotcha! Centered on his display, right where the computer predicted it would be, stood Morgan's Archer.
The humanoid 'Mech looked deformed in comparison with the clean-limbed shape of Dan's Wolfhound. The. Archer's head jutted forward grotesquely from just above the center of its chest, and its hunch-backed shoulders were elongated to house both LRM launchers and their missiles. Powerful arms hung from each shoulder, but ended in ridiculously blocky forearms and stubby fingers. The forearms mounted the Archer's two forward-firing medium lasers, while the two lasers protecting the Archer's rear arc stabbed backward from a ball turret riding where the Mech's head should have been.
Dan dropped the large laser's crosshairs onto the ungainly 'Mech's silhouette, but as his computer confirmed a lock, Morgan reacted. Like a dancer, Kell spun the Archer's bulk around to face the stalking Wolfhound. The Archer's right arm came up, its medium laser flashing.
Dammit! He's still fast! With the speed of reflex, Dan dropped the Wolfhound to one knee. While Morgan's laser passed harmlessly over him, the Wolfhound's medium lasers lashed out in a trident of energy beams. Two stabbed into the Archer's right leg, blasting some armor from it. The third beam sliced its way up the 'Mech's right forearm, but the co
mputer reported nothing more serious than armor damage.
Dan frowned as the Archer made no move to escape. Morgan's offering to slug it out! Why? He knows I've got more weaponry than he does if he can't use his LRMs. Still pondering the question at the back of his mind, Dan lashed out with everything his 'Mech had. Two of the medium lasers seared into the Archer's left leg while the third, inexplicably, missed altogether. The Wolfhound's heavy laser sliced ribbons of armor from the Archer's torso, but failed to do any internal damage.
When the Archer's twin forearm lasers blasted into the Wolfhound's chest, Dan got his first clue to Morgan's strategy. The Wolfhound schematic showed that the lasers had cored two-thirds of the way through the armor. I outgun him, but he can survive more rounds of this mutual pounding. Time to move! Shooting a glance at the heat monitors, and then cursing the levels he saw, Dan turned the Wolfhound and sprinted up over the crest of the hill. To keep Morgan from tagging him with blind LRM flights, Dan worked his 'Mech down the slope on an angle.
He frowned. I'll have to get Clovis to check how the heat affects my targeting equipment. I wanted to get a parting shot at Morgan with my aft laser, but it wouldn't lock. That's a dangerous problem.
Halting the Wolfhound so that the heat exchangers could bring down the levels to normal ranges, Dan ran a quick diagnostic program that reported all his weapons functional and also highlighted the damage his 'Mech had taken in the mock battle. He groaned. I hope I do better than this in a real fight. If not, all my pay is going to go to keeping this 'Mech in armor. In spite of the damage report, he smiled. At least, in this 'Mech, I'll be alive to make the repairs, which is something . . .
Deciding to take the long way around the hill, Dan started the Wolfhound moving off at a slow pace. Is Morgan expecting me to close with him—which makes sense for me—or to engage him at longer range—a move that would surprise him? Morgan always was one of the best, and the years in exile don't seem to have slowed him down at all. If I don't play it smart, I'll never get out of this one.
A sudden thought flashed into Dan's mind. He's expecting me to close or engage at long range by coming around the hill. But what if I just go back up over it again? Yeah ... He turned the Wolf to his right, taking the 'Mech up the hillside once again. Seeing the Archer waiting down at the valley's far end, Dan grinned. He dropped the sights for all his weapons onto the hulking Archer's outline, but the sights refused to pulse. What the . . . ?
As the Archer swung into line with the Wolfhound, its arms came up. Dan dodged to the right, allowing the beams to sizzle past harmlessly. He stabbed the diagnostics key on his display while continuing to dodge and work his way downhill as the computer redrew the outline of his 'Mech.
Still shows no damage! Then how come I can't. . . ? Even as the thought entered his mind, Dan's blood ran cold. It was just like that last battle on Mallory's World when the Kell Hound 'Mechs seemed to refuse to show Morgan's 'Mech as a target on their screens, and then again on Styx when the same thing happened in the battle between Yorinaga and Patrick. His mouth tasted sour, and his brain continued to protest what his eyes were showing him. This can't be happening ...
As the Archer bobbed back into view and raised both arms, Dan dropped the Wolfhound to its knees. As his computer projected twin lasers burning above his 'Mech's head, Dan jerked the Wolfhound to its feet and set off at a sprint away from the Archer.
The hillside eclipsed Dan's view of the Archer. Get a grip, Dan. It may be impossible, but it's happening. He shuddered. You couldn't shoot Yorinaga's Warhammer on Styx, but you were able to hit it with your Valkyrie. It did exist. There has to be a way. You're a MechWarrior. Figure it out.
A hopelessly reckless idea popped into Dan's head. Better to try it here in some simulation than to learn it doesn't work in real combat, he told himself. He reached over and switched targeting control from the joysticks to the computer.
The computer's voice spoke with mechanical urgency. "Disengaging manual targeting unadvisable."
"Shut up." Dan turned, continuing to work around the hill. He raced along faster than might have seemed prudent in unfamiliar terrain in the dark, but his natural sense of balance, as relayed to the Wolfhound through the neurohelmet and sensor pads, kept the 'Mech upright.
Dan summoned an Archer schematic from the secondary monitor. "Rear view," he commanded verbally. The computer dutifully spun the image, bringing a grin to Dan's face. "Initiate Setshot program."
"Use of targeting program unadvisable."
"Shut up." Dan glanced at the scale running beside the Archer's image. "Target point equals laser source minus three meters elevation, plus 25 meters distance." My weapons and sensors might not be able to see you, Morgan. Maybe they won't allow me to shoot you, but they do acknowledge your lasers in this little simulation, and I can shoot through you.
Dan crossed himself. Please, God, let this work.
He swung the Wolfhound around the hill. He spotted Morgan immediately, and almost as quickly the lasers perched between the Archer's shoulders swung down. Dan slowed as they locked on, forcing himself not to react despite the alarms wailing in his cockpit and the butterflies churning in his stomach.
Warning lights flared across the Wolfhound's console as the medium lasers blasted armor from the 'Mech's right side. Dan waited to see whether the arming lights for his weapons would die out because of damage, but none blinked or wavered. The lasers had only destroyed armor.
"All weapons, fire!" The computer drew four lines on Dan's display, focusing through and beyond the Archer's visual image. Morgan's 'Mech, which had begun to pivot, stopped dead. Its arms dropped to its sides, dangling like lynched renegades from the Archer's hunched shoulders.
Morgan's calm voice crackled into Dan's neurohelmet. "Fancy shooting, Dan. You skewered the reactor ..."
"Y-yes, sir." Nervous sweat stung his eyes.
"So, Dan, how to you like your Wolfhound!"
The young Kell Hound swallowed as Morgan's reassuringly warm voice melted some of the fear in his guts. "Fine, Colonel. I like it very much." The analytical side of Dan's mind shunted aside the last races of fear. "I'll miss my Valkyrie's jump jets, but the added weaponry and armor make this a prime battler."
Morgan's pleasure survived the transmission intact. "Good, Dan. I'm pleased you like it. How long until you feel comfortable in it?"
Dan swallowed. Do you mean as long as I don't have to fight with you? "Uh, I'm not sure. A month. Maybe more." Dan hesitated. "There are still some things I want Clovis to explain."
"Better make it a month," Morgan said grimly. "We don't have much more than that before we have to travel to the wedding." The Colonel's warmth returned, however, when he added, "You did well, Captain. Take it in."
* * *
Later, Dan hunched over Clovis as both of them stared in disbelief at the battletape's replay. He pointed to the screen as his targeting crosshairs refused to acknowledge the Archer beneath them. "See that, Clovis? What in hell is going on?"
The dwarf shook his head. He rewound the tape, then slowed the image. He turned to his left and projected the scanner's data feed to the computer on another monitor. Carefully, gently, he advanced the battletape centimeter by centimeter. As each image shifted on the picture screen, Clovis glanced at the raw data scrolling across the computer monitor.
He leaned back with a deep sigh. "Dan, I just don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know? You programmed the Wolfhound. You have to know!"
The dwarf shrugged. "I've never seen anything like it, Dan."
Dan was angry, not at Clovis, but at the memory. "Well I have, Clovis. In combat. I've seen it in combat." Dan turned and slammed his fist against the wall. "I saw it twelve years ago on Mallory's World, then twice more on Styx." He turned back and pointed accusingly at the battletape's flickering image. "Now I see it here." His shoulders slumped. "Tell me something, Clovis."
Clovis raised his hands and opened them. "I can tell you this, Dan," he said slowl
y, pointing to the data feed. "The passive sensors, like your Starlight sensors, can pick up photons bouncing off the Archer. That's why you could see him or, at least, that's why I think you could see him. The other sensors, like magscan or infrared, either don't get data back when they send out a signal, or the computer fails to interpret it when it comes in." Clovis shrugged helplessly. "That's about all I can tell from such a brief look. But I want to do more thorough checking. Maybe cross-correlate all this with Morgan's EEG and EKG readout from the fight."
Dan frowned. None of it made any sense. "In simple terms, Clovis, what are you telling me?"
"What I'm telling you, Captain, is that for all intents and purposes, on the battlefield, the computer does not believe Morgan Kell exists."
Book III
Doublé
24
In-system, Terra
14 August 3028
Duke Michael Hasek-Davion stared through his DropShip cabin's big, round viewport at the blue-white ball that was his destination. Dozens and dozens of other DropShips—most spherical like the Overlord Class bearing the Duke, but a few aero-dynamically constructed as well—were all rushing in toward the planet.
The Duke meditated on the world they were approaching. For centuries, DropShips and JumpShips have carried mankind away from this modest little planet. Terra is neither as large as others man has settled, nor is it as rich in minerals or life, yet it alone has produced a sentient species. That makes it very special, indeed.
The door to his cabin irised open with a hiss, bringing a small, slender man with thinning brown hair into the small room. Michael turned slowly, while the other man seemed to wince with discomfort with his every step. "You summoned me, My Lord?"