World Killers Page 19

  I believe that some of those men and women were swayed by Edwards's Faustian lure-there are bad apples in every barrel. But I've reviewed the citations and decorations of the Ghosts, going back decades, and I'm convinced that some force beyond mere human fallibility had enslaved them to their general by that night.

  It would be a stain on the memory of brave and selfless service members not to point this out: Edwards's greatest crime, among his many, was in making us Banners fight our own. Justice Justine Huxley, I've Been to a Marvelous Party

  The man whose name tag read Isle, L. knew from the start that Edwards's breakout would be unstoppable at its source.

  Hundreds of Inorganic bipeds had flung open the doors of the Royal Hall's underground warren and poured forth, inflicting terrible casualties, in response to the general's silent command. It was only good luck that an officious security QIC had insisted that the Plenipotentiary Council evacuate the building after Edwards's escape-she had practically been forced to wrestle some of the council members into armored vehicles.

  She was exonerated a few minutes later, when the Crann, Scrim, and Odeon boiled up from their catacombs, spreading death. Justine Huxley, gazing at it in horror through the rear viewslit of an APC, wrote later, "Words will not serve to describe the carnage there. I do not think the REF had a darker moment."

  A few loyalist VTs brought down death from the skies within minutes, but Edwards's army was already on the move. Now Flight Officer Isle watched them come toward the REF HQ complex, as he knew they would.

  Poor rebuilt Tiresia was being razed again, in a grotesque Mardi Gras of Robotech warfare. Excaliber Mark IXs and Crann whirled, fighting hand-to-hand in the streets;

  Spartans and Scrim stood flat-footed and shot it out at point-blank range in alleys; Battloids and Odeon rolled, locked in mortal combat, crumbling buildings and tearing each other to shreds.

  What Ghost VTs there were were primarily occupied keeping Lang's security fliers busy. The conflict was pretty much a ground battle.

  The man released the nametag he had ripped from his flight suit. It fluttered down on the wind as he watched the battle move his way. Edwards was using his Invid troops cleverly, feinting and redeploying, subtly opening an avenue of attack on the HQ. REF Command wouldn't consider HQ much of an objective for Edwards, Flight Officer Isle knew; Command would consider it a dead end, and would be watching for an assault on the spaceport. They didn't know that the most precious thing in the universe was in the headquarters building.

  No, Command was busy dealing with diversionary strikes by Edwards's loyal Ghost Riders and shoring up its faltering ready-reaction groups in the western and southern parts of Tiresia. Edwards was one up on them.

  The council acted quickly on Lang's plea to secure SDF-3 against mutiny. But what they weren't prepared for was a mass desertion by Ghost elements then on the super-dimensional fortress. And while there were sufficient loyal troops to hold the bridge, power section, and other vital points against assault, there weren't nearly enough to stop Edwards's people from decamping.

  Some of the Ghosts headed for the surface of Tirol, to provide air support for their general's escape. But the bulk of them drove directly toward the new SDF-7 ship, sister to the Tokugawa and the Jutland, that was just nearing completion. Since Edwards had to take flight, he meant to do so in a ship with its superluminal drive in place.

  Inorganics were already breaking through onto the huge square outside the rocketlike HQ building. The man who had called himself Isle for so long drew a deep breath and leapt from the parapet on which he stood.

  Ten feet below, he touched down soundlessly on the tiles of a balcony, eased himself onto a ledge that ran round the building, and sidled along it, back to the wall. He negotiated the corner and saw the mecha he had seen fifteen or thirty seconds before: a Scrim lumbering in behind the first wave of Inorganics to assault the doors of the HQ.

  He swung himself out with a grip on the evercrete of a flying buttress, his fingers, as strong as steel, finding purchase where few other Humans' could have. When the Scrim passed under, he made a daring deadfall, clinging to a ridge of armored backplate. The

  Scrim stopped and turned, but saw nothing behind it. It charged after its companions, bringing up the rear, as they breached the headquarters' main doors.

  In another instant, the man was inside the building that had for so long resisted his every effort to gain entry.

  He saw his chance and sprang, with nearly superhuman strength and precision, to a darkened surveillance camera mast, just as the Inorganic he had been riding came under intense fire from a gun emplacement. The fighting in the lobby and the halls was hideous and without quarter, the Humans as willing to die as the Invid. Cool and capable as he was, he was staggered for a moment by the blind, unyielding carnage of it. Edwards's advantage in numbers and firepower were quickly reduced by sheer Human stubbornness. The Invid media paid heavily for every inch they claimed.

  But there were other things to think about. He slid away like a flickering shadow, knowing the floor plan from diligent study. He had waited so long and patiently, so humbly. And now the moment was his.

  Reports had it that Wolff's damnable Wolff Pack were advancing to back up the loyalist Destroids in repelling the Inorganics. Luckily, only a part of the Hovertank unit had been permitted to make planetfall with their commander, and most of the rest of the troops who had gone to Haydon IV were still in orbit aboard ship, too far away to be of any tactical importance.

  Edwards didn't care, just as he didn't care how many lives he had to spend to take the HQ citadel. Troops and mecha were things that he could replace; Minmei wasn't.

  Adams was yammering something in his ear; Edwards looked aside from his screens and readouts. "What?"

  "HQ building partially secured but still putting up resistance, sir," Adams repeated. "I think we should stand fast and wait till-"

  "We're going in," Edwards cut him off. "Where's that SDF escort?"

  Adams told him calmly, "Rendezvous is still on schedule. They're beginning orbital insertion now. We only have twenty-three minutes, General."

  More than enough time. "Drive on! Hit hard!" Edwards hollered over the tac net. "I want some results, people!" Relaying orders back to the Living Computer by means of a receptor band that looked something like an Invid slave headband, he worked the Inorganics into a killing frenzy.

  He left the limo behind to take personal charge of the raid. His forces mowed down all opposition, slew and demolished, melted superalloy and blew apart walls. At the entrance of the brig section, he was obliged to leave his Inorganics and Ghost mecha behind because the corridors were too small. Ghost Riders deployed with rifles leveled, securing the area.

  Minmei had imagined the cell door opening, had imagined it so many times that she thought her mind was playing tricks on her now that it was happening. Oh, God! I'd rather be dead than crazy!

  But when Edwards stepped into the open doorway, she knew she wasn't imagining it and started to scream. Sinking her fingers into the black hair that hung around her face, squeezing her eyes shut, she shrieked.

  Edwards pounced on her as Adams and two lesser officers brought up the rear, guarding the door. The general cuffed her face, back and forth. "Shut up, shut up!"

  Then he had her shoulders, shaking her, as she shuddered with long, wracking sobs. "Minmei, you're coming with me! Do you hear? You're mine!" He slapped her again. "Not Hunter's! Not Wolff's! Mine!

  Somehow she stopped crying. Minmei raised her eyes to Edwards with a look he had never seen from her before. She wiped away the tears and saliva and mucous with the back of her hand.

  She looked her foe in the eye. "If you don't leave me alone you'd better kill me, T. R. Or else I am going to kill you."

  He felt such sudden misgiving that he raised his hand to hit her again, expecting her to flinch. But she kept her eyes fixed on him. "I'm going to make you beg me to forget what you just said,"
he whispered.

  Minmei drew a deep breath. o, you're not."

  A hand closed around Edwards's upraised wrist from behind; a voice told him, o, you're not."

  Edwards was pulled aside, his wrist nearly broken. He was spun at the cell wall like a child's top, his burnished facemask ringing against it, his nose banged so that he smelled metal and blood. He clawed for purchase but found himself sliding down the cold alloy, leaving a red stain. A foot pressed his head to the deck, nearly crushed it, then relented. Then the foot was abruptly gone.

  The general shook his head to clear it, glancing about drunkenly. Adams lay sprawled in the doorway, perhaps unconscious, perhaps dead. Edwards could see the upturned toes of one downed guard's boots in the corridor beyond. Minmei was on her feet with a look on her face that Edwards had always longed to force her to direct at him. But it was for the man in the REF flight suit who had appeared out of nowhere.

  Edwards felt numbed in certain ways, superalert in others. The light danced in Minmei's eyes as she slowly raised her hands to her rescuer.

  "Lynn-Kyle! Oh, Lynn-Kyle..."

  Her distant cousin and, in the opinion of some, a reflection of the dark side of Minmei herself; her onetime lover and the most renowned martial arts fighter of the Robotech age. The haunted and saturnine, the brilliantly gifted but ill-starred, the undefeated and cursed Lynn-Kyle.

  Kyle's face was thinner than when he had been a movie star. The fine, silky black shag was showing some gray. He kissed his cousin's forehead, then took her hand. "I'm taking you home." There was something as much penitent as loving in his voice.

  Home! She couldn't really think what the word meant anymore. But she felt weightless, her hand and her body and her soul buoyant beyond belief, as she entrusted her grip to his, her feet seemingly free of the cell floor.

  Edwards lurched and grabbed her ankle with a failing grip. "No! I won't let you go!"

  Kyle was kneeling on Edwards's biceps, Edwards's head clamped in his hands, so quickly that there was no sense of transition. The general heard the bones of his upper spine creak and knew that his life lay on the line.

  The dagger in Edwards's boot, the energy derringer in his jacket pocket-those might as well be on the SDF-3, or back on Earth, for all the good they could do him. Kyle was as quick as a lightning bolt, and there was simply no defense against him. He was more like an elemental force than a man.

  "I've never taken a human life." The words seemed to come so slowly, though Edwards knew Lynn-Kyle was speaking very fast. "But I'll kill you if you don't lie still!" The heel of Kyle's hand lay, pressing upward in warning, under the general's nose, poised to execute him in an instant.

  Edwards, defeated, kept still. In Kyle's place, he would have killed; but he would never be in Kyle's place, he knew now. He had lost.

  But he couldn't resist croaking, "Go ahead; take the little slut, then. She's a waste of time

  in bed anyway..."

  Kyle seized a handful of Edwards's hair, preparing to kill him. His fist hovered, middle knuckle cocked forth, and Edwards's eyes nearly crossed, focused on that single Damoclean striking surface hanging over him.

  "Kyle, no," Minmei said, as her cousin drew quick breaths and gathered his resolve. "Kyle, we need him!"

  "I don't need him." The wrist turned upside down, the cocked knuckle drawn back tight and high under Kyle's right armpit, aimed at Edwards's Adam's apple. The general squirmed, trying to move his arms, but he was helpless.

  "Kyle, the war's over. Just hang onto him, and we can end it all today." She swiped the long, damp night-black hair out of her eyes. "Kyle, you're not a murderer. The war's over."

  "The war's over." Saying it didn't give Kyle the satisfaction he thought he would have back at the beginning-back when the SDF-3 mission was recruiting; back before he and Minmei and the rest had passed into the flames once more.

  But it was enough. He would settle for it. "War's over, General. You're going to stand up and order your troops to surrender. We'll strike a peace with the Regent. And then we're all going home, right?"

  Edwards's mouth moved, but he was unable to speak. Yet he was careful to nod unmistakably, his hair pulling against Kyle's grip, as he looked up at that one single knuckle that jutted out like a battering ram. "Urr. R-right."

  Kyle smiled, nodding. " he wolf shall dwell with the lamb.'" He grabbed the front of Edwards's dress uniform jacket, ready to lift him up.

  " nd the leopard shall lie down with the kid.'" Kyle stuck his fist close to Edwards's face again. The fist was like some gnarled piece of iron with a scruffy skin-covering on it. "And we're all going to live happily ever after, isn't that right?"

  Edwards almost said something, but thought better of it. He swallowed, then nodded. Kyle leaned forward to pull him to his feet.

  There was a sudden scuffling behind him and Kyle whirled, rising. Edwards's eyes flickered that way at the same time, to see Adams grappling with Minmei, the bright edge of a combat knife reflecting the light.

  "Kill her! Kill her!" Edwards screamed, not because he thought Adams would necessarily follow orders, but rather because it would keep Lynn-Kyle diverted. It was no surprise that

  Kyle unthinkingly sprang to Minmei's aid. Edwards was digging for his gun, even as he

  thought, Kyle must know I'm armed! Why...

  Adams's eyes opened wide, the edge of his blade drawing a trickle of blood from Minmei's neck. Kyle came at him, unstoppable and almost too fast to see, with a strength like something out of Robotechnology.

  Adams felt himself horribly hurt and sent pinwheeling, but there was nothing he could do about it; he was propelled into a corner, black-red blood bubbling on his lips, knowing he had only a few moments of life left. Minmei was safe, except for the shallow cut on her throat.

  Kyle spun on Edwards, but the general already had his derringer in his hand. It didn't make any difference; Kyle leapt at him anyway.

  The gun was small, only good for two rounds, but graphically effective at short range. Edwards shot Kyle twice while he was in the air; the body that landed on the general was almost dead.

  Edwards pushed Kyle off, while Minmei came to her cousin's side, knelt, and brushed his raven's-wing forelock out of his eyes. She took his head into her lap tenderly, as Edwards labored to regain his breath and get to his feet.

  Kyle's eyelids fluttered. "Minmei..."

  "Shh-hh."

  There was no saving him; she kept her trembling hand at his chin, so he couldn't see the melted fabric and bloody mess that was his chest. Kyle coughed, "The war was almost over. We'd won."

  "We'd won." She nodded. "You won it for us, Kyle." She was about to faint, holding a human body that was half blown open, but she found reserves of courage from someplace she had never delved into before, and smiled down at him instead.

  There was a final, galvanic bit of life to him. "Tell me you love me, Minmei. Let it be the last thing I hear. Please."

  Once, she would have hung back from conceding that, but she had suffered so much since joining the Sentinels...it seemed that last words were all she knew anymore.

  "I love you, Lynn-Kyle. Now and forever."

  Minmei locked her mouth to his, and felt Kyle go cold and lifeless. She held him close,

  rocking as she embraced his head, crooning a little children's song he had taught her a thousand eons ago.

  There was the sudden grip of bloody hands, and Edwards dragged her away from Lynn-Kyle's corpse. He was speaking into a rover commo unit through his smashed face. "Rally here! Rally here! Make pickup at this location at once!"

  There was a burst of static as someone acknowledged from the assault units. Minmei knew she was still a captive and that Edwards might still win the day, but all of that was unimportant to her now.

  I'm not a prisoner anymore. I have my own part to play now.

  She glanced around the room, and everything she saw seemed to be an edged weapon or a bludgeon. Edwards,
still trying to arrange for a rendezvous, was suddenly troubled when he saw Minmei's slow smile.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Strange, that the "Loki" of the Sentinels campaign should have a namesake so renowned in Earth's scientific history. But the Human Tesla invented polyphase systems, dynamos, oscillators, and so much more, whereas there is no record of his Invid counterpart making any contribution whatsoever-beyond the abominations that are already so notorious.

  Simon Kujawa, Against All Worlds: A Biography of Tesla the Infamous

  "What's your hurry, Jack?"