Bred for war

  He did not recognize the Precentor, but even just that first quick glance caught the urgency in the man's eyes. Thomas refused to turn toward the man even after hearing the first, crisp footfall of boot on balcony. He waited until the steps stopped, then counted the seconds until the man cleared his throat.

  Instead of turning, Thomas pointed to the stars twinkling coldly in the night sky. "Did you know that our ancestors once believed that the positions of planets in the sky and the very stars themselves had messages for us? They let superstition and fear guide them, as if their lives were not in their control." Thomas turned to his right, letting his scarred profile precede him, then asked, "Do you believe we control our own lives?"

  The Precentor, a young man with a full head of brown hair, brought his head up. "I believe Jerome Blake's vision for humanity offers a part for me to play, and my life is dedicated to functioning in that role."

  Very good. You personalize the argument to avoid having to debate theology with me. "I understand well your belief, and I applaud your willingness to accept your place in the universe." Validate him, and he will be your friend. "You have a message for me, Precentor?"

  "I am Precentor Malcolm, Captain-General." The man bowed his head in a silent salute. "I do not exactly have a message, sir. I've come about a delicate matter that has arisen, and I bring it to you because it pertains to your minor child."

  Joshua! Thomas nodded. "Go on."

  "As you know from your time with the heretics before our split with ComStar, when we are entrusted with a message, we deliver it without tampering or modifying the contents at all."

  The Captain-General smiled enigmatically. "I served in a hyperpulse generator station. I know how messages are sent between planets, Precentor Malcolm. I take it you've had something suspicious crop up?"

  "Yes, sir. A message was encoded and encapsulated and married to another message heading out from Atreus. We picked it up because of a size-error checking program we've been using to cut down on illegal messages and contraband imagery being encoded within messages."

  "And when you decoded it to help SAFE track down the perpetrator, you discovered?"

  "We discovered plans for agents of the Capellan Confederation's Maskirovka to make a raid against your son Joshua."

  Sun-Tzu, what game are you playing at? Thomas fought the anger rising in his heart. "How serious was this attempt?"

  "That is the curious thing, Captain-General. The Liao agents being activated had been inserted onto New Avalon thirty years ago, with the original wave of Sarna refugees. Two were in their sixties, the other one even older."

  Malcolm frowned deeply. "Upon receiving this data we initially assumed the whole thing was a ruse by Davion intelligence to drive a wedge between you and the Liao."

  Thomas wanted to smile because he had always appreciated the way any Word of Blake member made the words the Liao sound like a curse. "I applaud your thinking. Did you uncover the true author of the message?"

  "We did, sir." Malcolm took a deep breath before starting. "It appears the author was actually Sun-Tzu."

  "What?"

  Malcolm held his hands up. "We do not think he intended to harm your son. The men were ordered to gain access to Joshua and to draw a sample of Joshua's blood for the DNA verification test commonly known as a Patmat screen."

  Why would Sun-Tzu want to verify Joshua's paternity? A blood screen will prove beyond a doubt that he is my son, but if Sun-Tzu could get a test to cast doubt on that, Isis' position as heir would be strengthened. Casting doubt on Joshua's paternity would get Sun-Tzu nothing unless ...

  Thomas smiled with new appreciation for his daughter's betrothed. If Sun-Tzu could make me believe Victor had somehow slipped another child into Joshua's place, with the object of carrying off a bloodless coup when I died, then he could get me to support him in worrying the Davion border. Sun-Tzu is making good use of these stories about a double for Joshua. Very good, and very dangerous.

  Thomas shifted his smile to one that was more apologetic. "So, Precentor, are you giving me the option of preventing the transmission of this message, thereby saving my gravely ill son undue stress?"

  "I am, Captain-General. Precentor Blane has been informed of the situation and that is the solution he advocated."

  "Very well."

  The Precentor turned to leave, but Thomas stopped him. "Would it be an undue hardship to ask you to return here in an hour?"

  "No, sir, it would be my pleasure."

  "Good. As Sun-Tzu tends to be tenacious, I think I'd best have my own plan to block any similar efforts in the future." Won't Sun-Tzu be surprised when I produce my own Patmat scan of Joshua's blood to refute his doctored results?

  Thomas smiled. "An hour then, Precentor. May the peace of Blake be with you."

  13

  They say soldiers and lawyers could never thrive both in one shire.

  -Barnaby Rich, The Anatomy of Ireland

  Tamar, Wolf Clan Occupation Zone

  4 July 3057

  Phelan swallowed his anger and fear and gave the Loremaster his best sneer. He kept his voice low, but filled it with menace. "This charge is heinous, Cams. It seeks to speculate about what is in the ilKhan's mind, then use it against him. Is there a witness that has heard the ilKhan expound upon his plan?"

  Dalk's composure did not crack. "His plans and his guilt in this matter are self-evident."

  "So you say." Phelan turned and looked toward the assembly. "Are we not the Clan that defeated ComStar?"

  "You speak of the past."

  "No, Dalk, I speak of the present. Does not Clan Wolf have the most highly trained, highly experienced leadership among the Clans today?"

  "But will that leadership be here in ten years?"

  "Do you think it will not?" Phelan forced himself to laugh, then pointed back at Natasha. "Look at Natasha Kerensky. She is more than eighty years old—well past the lifespan of a Clansman, yet well below the average years of the people of the Inner Sphere. We have concentrated upon creating better and better warriors with each succeeding generation, while prematurely retiring many able people."

  Dalk shook his head. "Natasha Kerensky is an aberration."

  "And if she is not?"

  The Loremaster's eyes narrowed. "I do not follow your thought."

  "No, clearly you do not. If she is not an aberration, then every one of us has more time in which to serve and prove ourselves. Yet a Clan warrior suffers tremendous pressure to prove him or herself in only a short time, or risk being discarded. A pressure I understand keenly because I would probably be dead had I not won a rank and a Bloodname within the Wolves." He glanced over at Vlad. "It is well known the depth of the hatred harbored in Crusader hearts for me."

  Vlad rose to the challenge. "What you are suggesting is an expansion of time in which to prove our worth as warriors, but doing that would also require slowing the breeding program or severely limiting the size of sibkos. In effect, you would give us more time, but hand us fewer chances. There is no gain there."

  Marialle stood beside him. "And your plan would destroy the Clans from within."

  "But you and the other Crusaders are already doing that here and now." Phelan ignored the angry denials and protests from the Loremaster and the prosecutor. "Before the invasion, our vision as Clansmen held that everything—every fight, every agreement to exchange DNA, everything—was done by the Clan, for the Clan, and with the intention of forwarding the aims of the Clan. The goal was to produce the best warriors possible. Even the Clans that had been defeated and absorbed were preserved. Through their genetics they enrich the Clan that defeated them.

  "And what was the reason we were trying to produce superior warriors? We wanted to become the greatest warriors the Inner Sphere had ever seen—not to enslave it, but to protect and lead it through our example. Nicholas Kerensky wanted us to rise above the vicious squabbling that tore the Star League apart. The Clans were formed to promote the glory of mankind, not the glory of a man.
"

  Phelan thrust a finger at Ulric. "The ilKhan clung to that ideal. Yes, our Clan raced toward Terra along with the rest, but not so Ulric could take the world and become the First Lord of a new Star League. He wanted to win the race for the power it would give him to stop the other Clans from destroying the Inner Sphere. He wanted to preserve Nicholas Kerensky's dream. Because the other Khans became blinded by a desire for personal glory, they lost sight of their true mission, and they faltered. This is why ComStar defeated them—moral corruption weakened them and sowed the seeds of defeat within their ranks."

  The young Khan turned to face Dalk. "Now you wish to sow those same seeds in our ranks with this charge."

  "No, Khan Phelan, I merely seek to preserve the way of life that has made us what we are. And I choose to represent a path that will allow us to continue our way of life instead of destroying it—as the ilKhan obviously intends."

  "But you cannot pretend to know what goes on in his mind." Phelan's green eyes blazed. "Again I ask, is there a witness against him?"

  "And again I say that his guilt is self-evident. Did he not send you on a mission in which you trained the Kell Hounds in methods to be used against us? Can you deny that they will oppose us when the truce is ended?"

  "That was no training mission, Dalk." Phelan hesitated as the importance of Dalk's questions hit home. Dalk is anxious to show that Ulric has a hidden agenda, but so does he. "But if you protest a lack of training, I imagine we could arrange a fight with the Jade Falcons."

  "And dilute the strength of the Clans with internecine battling?"

  "In the old days, fighting against one another was the only way Clan warriors had of honing their skills. Those same skills that permitted us to overwhelm the Inner Sphere. But now you assert that a return to our most time-honored training methods would weaken us?"

  "We should press the Inner Sphere now," Dalk barked. "They are the ones we are destined to fight. Let us stop wasting time and fight them."

  "So you do not deny that training against other Clans would sharpen us?" Phelan smiled for the audience. "I know I do not want to fight against the Ghost Bears because they have ever been our allies. The Jade Falcons, on the other hand, have always been our enemies—unless one reveres them for their Crusader philosophy. You claim our troops will be green, Dalk, but I think you would prefer them to be jade in their leanings."

  "That, Khan Phelan, is a foul slander."

  Phelan opened his arms. "Then challenge me to a Trial of Refusal and let us decide in a Circle of Equals whose claim has more weight."

  "No!" Ulric stalked forward and inserted himself between the two men. "There will be no Circle of Equals to decide this slander, nor this last charge."

  Phelan took a step back and folded his arms. "It would be my pleasure to slay him."

  "And it wold be mine to see him slain." Ulric pointed at the podium. "Loremaster, this final charge is the most grave known to the Clans. Were I to refute it here, it would only be taken up again by the Grand Council. That being the case, I direct that you refer the charge directly to the Grand Council."

  Phelan stared at Ulric. "What are you doing?"

  "I refuse to delay the inevitable, Khan Phelan."

  Phelan was speechless. Ulric sounded defeated, and Dalk's smile showed that he drew the same conclusion from the ilKhan's words. Phelan finally found his voice and started to protest, but Ulric held his hand out for silence.

  The conclave was quickly adjourned, then Dalk left with Marialle and Vlad in tow. The only consolation Phelan drew from any of this was that their little trio looked as bewildered as they were happy at the turn of events. They had obviously hoped to win, and rejoiced that they had done so, but Phelan would have bet that not one of them could have figured out how it happened.

  * * *

  The lights in the auditorium died, leaving Phelan, Natasha, and Ulric alone on the stage, bathed in the bloody glow of exit signs. "What can you be thinking, Ulric?" Phelan slapped the top of the podium. "Here, among the Wolves, we could have defeated that charge. But in the Grand Council the Crusaders predominate. Four of the Clans that invaded the Inner Sphere are dominated by Crusaders. The non-invading Clans can use this charge as a pretext for resuming the invasion so that this time they can join in, reaping the glory they were denied before. You gave up and put everything at risk."

  Natasha looked crossly at Ulric. "The pup is right, Ulric. By passing up a battle, you must now win a difficult war."

  "I know that, Natasha." Ulric slowly shook his head. "There is a very ancient saying that a good general not only sees the way to victory, he knows when victory is beyond him. It was beyond me here today. I underestimated Dalk and the desperation of the people behind him."

  "But we had him."

  "No, we did not. We know he invented that third charge on the spur of the moment, but it was a burst of inspiration that was fatal for us. The charge is sufficiently serious that even if the Clan Council had not judged me guilty, the Grand Council would have resurrected it against me. The Crusaders are hoping to make this whole thing seem like a movement from within Clan Wolf to discredit me."

  "And your move has allowed that to happen."

  Ulric nodded. "You are correct, Phelan, but shifting the battle to the Grand Council means I do not have my own Clan pitted against me. The attack now comes from outside the Wolves, which should help bind us together. What we have done is open the way for a rift between the Crusaders and the young Wolf supremists. Now that Crusaders must take their fight to the Grand Council, the Wolf supremists will feel used and abandoned."

  Phelan frowned. "That's fine, but the Wolf supremists will only be useful if we are forced"—he broke off at the look on Ulric's face, which told him the ilKhan had already figured out what Phelan was about to say.

  The enormity of the situation also shocked Natasha. "You want them with us for a Trial of Refusal when the Grand Council removes you, quiaff?"

  "Aff, Natasha."

  Phelan looked sharply from one to the other. "You're talking a total war between the Wolves and another Clan."

  "Or a coalition of Clans." Ulric smiled coldly. "I rather think the Jade Falcons will claim the right to fight us, though."

  Phelan's eyes narrowed. "And that is not a bad thing?"

  Natasha nodded, then smiled in a way that sent a shiver down Phelan's spine. "It is, Phelan, very bad. The Crusaders have accused the ilKhan of undermining our way to force him to resume the war with the Inner Sphere. Now, why do they want that?"

  Phelan shook his head. "They hate the Inner Sphere?"

  The ilKhan let warmth creep back into his smile. "That, yes, Phelan, but they also believe that if we do not fight outsiders, we will fight against each other. The last thing the Jade Falcons want is to see Wolf Clan JumpShips showing up in their systems. That is their greatest fear because they know that even if they defeat us, it will cost them so dearly that they will never be able to profit from a renewed war with the Inner Sphere. Other Clans will come from the homeworlds and take their place in the invasion—and take our place, too. The Jade Falcons' dreams of glory will end forever."

  "But if we go to war with the Jade Falcons, we could be destroyed as well. A war between Clans would be suicidal."

  "Which is exactly why the Grand Council expects me to repudiate the truce. They believe I will see the wisdom of renewing the invasion over destroying my Clan." Ulric pressed his hands together as if in prayer. "If I comply with their wishes, they have no reason to try to taint my Clan with the charges against me, so the Wolves will live. They might even be allowed to join in the new invasion."

  "But if we go to war and do serious damage to a Crusader Clan, then that Clan would be in no position to benefit from the invasion. The Crusaders would be split against themselves in voting on that matter." Phelan shook his head. "They think they have you trapped, but they are not on solid ground themselves."

  "You have hit upon the key, Phelan—my plan works if we can do enough
damage to whomever we fight. Guaranteeing that will take some time."

  Phelan smiled. "Time I can buy by preparing to defend you before the Grand Council?"

  "If you will accept that task, impossible though it might be, Natasha and I can begin arranging some nasty surprises for the Crusaders."

  "Bargained well, Ulric, provided my troops and I get our chance in the fighting."

  The ilKhan nodded. "Bargained well and done, Khan Phelan. Yours will be a very special role indeed."

  14

  The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.

  An evil soul, producing holy witness.

  Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,

  A goodly apple rotten at the heart.

  O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!

  —William Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice

  Avalon City, New Avalon

  Cruris March, Federated Commonwealth

  15 July 3057

  The nurse smiled at Francesca Jenkins as the young woman smoothed the back of her candy-striped skirt. "It looks as if you were a tonic for those kids, Fran. They really didn't want you to go."

  Francesca smiled. "I like reading to them, but I could see they were getting tired. It's sad for youngsters to be so sick."

  Connie Whynn typed a quick note into the computer, then looked up. "Very sad. And depressing for many people. That's why you're one of the few volunteers willing to work the pediatric cancer wards."

  "I'd never thought of volunteering before, but after seeing that program about Missy Cooper and her cousin Raymond, I guess something kind of clicked inside my heart."

  Connie narrowed her eyes and pulled back dramatically as if comically skeptical. "Oh, sure, you saw Raymond and he tugged at your heartstrings. Are you certain you're not another golddigger here trying to meet Joshua Marik?"