"Battletech.-.Jade.Phoenix.03.-.Falcon.Guard" - читать интересную книгу автора (Battletech)

To the memory of my parents

Prologue

Star Captain Joanna, in her darkest fantasies, saw herself dying with a projectile ripping through her body, or incinerated in a BattleMech, or destroyed by a lucky shot from an enemy MechWarrior's weapon. In her wilder nightmares, she imagined being murdered in her bed by a vile freebirth, or mauled by a bloodthirsty creature on some planet where she was stranded, or perhaps ejecting successfully from the cockpit of her 'Mech only to drown in a deep lake before she could free herself from the restraints of her ejection seat. Once she had dreamed that the best death would come in heroic combat or even during a Trial of Bloodright, where she would meet her end in a ferocious final round of the competition for a Blood-name.

But now her dreams had faded, for she had become an old warrior. She still piloted a 'Mech as a warrior of Clan Jade Falcon, but no longer would any Bloodnamed warrior sponsor her for a slot in any Trial of Bloodright. Without a nomination, Joanna's only hope for eligibility was to take part in a Grand Melee, but to that she would never stoop. (Joanna knew of only one warrior who had eventually won his Bloodname via that route, and the man was high on the long list of people she despised.) Her best hope now was cremation after death so that her ashes would return to the same sibko system that had spawned her existence, to be blended with the amniotic fluid of the artificial wombs. Without a Bloodname, Star Captain Joanna could never achieve the ultimate goal of all Clan warriors, the inclusion of her genes in the sacred gene pool. Letting that dream die had been the most difficult of all, even after Joanna realized she would never win a Bloodname. Since then she had added an even more dread possibility to her fantasies about death, this one of surviving to the time when she would die in her bed either from disease or sheer old age. Of all the ends she could imagine, that was the most appalling.

Despite all the conjectures, Joanna had never foreseen being buried alive while trapped in the cockpit of her 'Mech, which was exactly where she was at this moment. The Clan invasion of the Inner Sphere had been going on for nine months now, and Joanna had just been assigned as a replacement to the Falcon Guards. Almost immediately after she had reported to the Cluster commander, Star Colonel Adler Malthus, the Cluster had been ordered to defend against an Inner Sphere counterattack on theplanet Twycross.

The Falcon Guards had been traversing a pass called the Great Gash, when a single, battered Inner Sphere Hatchetman crested the ridge line. The BattleMech pilot identified himself as Kai Allard-Liao and issued a clumsy batchall for the pass. The enemy's bravery was admirable, but Star Colonel Adler Malthus went too far. Instead of simply refusing to grant Clan-warrior status to an Inner Sphere MechWarrior, he halted the Cluster's advance, and went out to finish off the Inner Sphere warrior alone. Star Colonel Malthus advanced and raised the arms of his Summoner to smash the Gash's defender into rubble, but before the blow could land, the Hatchetman exploded.

As though in sympathy, the Great Gash itself blew apart, sending rocks and dirt spouting and flying, boulders bouncing off the surface of Joanna's Hellbringer with a horrible clanging that nearly deafened her. Then another nearby лMech exploded, and before Joanna knew what had happened, she was staring through her viewport at a wall of geological debris. With enough air trapped in the Hell-bringer's cockpit to keep her going for awhile, she kept her panic at bay, using the 'Mech's still-functional computer to calculate the compartment's volume plus the amount of air that might still remain in the circulation system. It looked like it might be enough to survive for at least fifteen minutes, perhaps more. Who could be sure?

When it came to survival, the human organism sometimes went beyond its own limitations. Perhaps she had even more precious moments than she estimated.

Joanna briefly considered using some of the deep' concentration techniques she had learned during warrior training so long ago. By slowing her breathing profoundly, she might be able to remain alive even longer. Then she decided to hell with it. She needed her wits about her and did not particularly want to sink into some deep meditative funk. What she needed now was to keep her mind busy enough to figure a way out of here.

With so much of her Hellbringer apparently still operational, Joanna thought that perhaps she might still accomplish some miracle. Was she not a warrior, the product of a scientific program that engineered the production of superior humans by mating only the most superior genes? Add to that the abilities of the massive piece of fighting machinery called a BattleMechЧand who knew what might be possible? Joanna had neither much faith nor liking for humanity in general, but she had confidence to spare in herself. As for 'MechsЧshe respected them to the point of reverence.

She tried her communications system, which produced plenty of crackle and static, but no response from anyone on the line. Perhaps it was because fallen rock and dirt had cut off communications. Or perhaps all the other Jade Falcon warriors were as trapped in their 'Mechs as she was, but had not escaped death. Scanners proved inoperable also, so she could not tell how deep she and her machine were buried in the debris.

Staring at her secondary screen, Joanna tested other systems. It was immediately obvious that operating any of her weapon systems would be dangerous. If she tried to fire any of them, the weapon would simply explode and that would be the end of her. A mercifully quick end, to be sure, but not the one she craved.

Neither of the 'Mech's arms seemed functional, either, so she could not use them to dig herself out. Then she tried the right leg. Nothing.

The left leg, however, surprised her. She felt it strain at her attempts to move it, though that was about all. When she switched her concentration to the left foot, at first it failed to respond. With a little more effort, she felt it move, but ever so imperceptibly. Not much more than a twitch, but movement nonetheless. Pressing the foot pedal that operated the 'Mech's legs, Joanna tried again to move the left foot forward. This time it seemed to budge slightly. Not much, but enough to keep her trying.

Bit by bit, she kept at it until she had the left foot moving more freely. Now she made it slide from side to side, each time sensing its movement to be easier. If only her sensors were working, she could get an external view of the leg's movements and thus a clearer idea of its cur╗ rent mobility.

The air in the cockpit was getting hotter, the excess of carbon dioxide making her dizzy. No telling how much time she had left. But then, what did it matter when the time you had left was all the time you had left?

She decided to try to kick out with the Hellbringer's leg. A dumb maneuver in most battles, but one that might prove useful when buried alive. Working the foot pedal, she was pleased and astonished to feel the whole leg wrench free. Then she kicked again, laughing aloud just to feel the leg's freedom. With that kick, Joanna had a sense of the outward thrust dislodging even more rock and dirt. That was a start, she decided. With her next kick, she noticed a slight movement of the 'Mech at hip level. Perhaps it was the 'Mech's design that was working in her favor. The machine's wide shoulders might be blocking any further avalanche of debris from tumbling down to re-bury the 'Mech's leg, while the outward thrust of the hip was giving it sufficient leverage to escape from the trap.

Joanna was beginning to feel drowsy, her lids wanting to flutter shut. The air was very close. If only she could get the cleaner working again, it might be the difference between escape and deathЧa matter of minutes. She swallowed hard, with a sense that she might not ever be able to swallow again. Then she swallowed once more, just to prove it was not true. Joanna had always been stubborn, whether in jeopardy or at ease.

She realized now that she had no more time to wait through the minuscule gains won with each slight move of her 'Mech. She would be dead long before she could get to good air.

Setting the controls at high, Joanna attempted to maneuver the BattleMech forward with all the force the control systems could generate. At first nothing happened. The right side of the 'Mech seemed completely trapped, so she concentrated on its left. Urging the machine's left shoulder forward, she discovered that it would move slightly, no more than a mild spasm compared to a human shoulder's muscular convulsion. But when she repeated the action, the shoulder gave way more. In successive attempts, she sensed the shoulder's jerking motion, like a warrior punching in a hand-to-hand battle. The 'Mech's right side was still wedged too tightly for the whole machine to break free. Her only hope was in the jerky thrusts of the left side. Frantically, she continued to shove the left shoulder forward until finally she saw some of the debris in her viewport move. It was a slight shift, but enough to tell her she still had a chance.

Though the cockpit was stifling and almost airless, Joanna kept at her desperate actions until daylight suddenly showed through on the left side of the viewport. She could still not call up a computer diagnostic of the 'Mech's internal condition on her secondary screen, but she knew the odds were good that the area beyond the cockpit hatchway was now clear.

At the hatchway, she yanked on the manual release lever for the hatch, but the plate did not budge. The heat inside the cockpit was now almost unbearable. Forcing herself to calm, she tried once more to pop the hatch, which seemed to loosen but still did not open. With two hands now, first she pushed in on the control, hoping to release the pressure, then with a lifting motion, she pulled back once more. She tried this several more times, even though it took all her strength. Then came a sound that was music to her ears, a soap that might be the hatch lock releasing. Carefully now, gently, she continued to pull, side to side this time, gradually opening a crack wide enough through which she could wedge her body into the rocks and dirt beyond it. Some of the rocks fell inward, onto the cockpit's metal flooring, creating an odd clanging sound.

Wondering if she might have gotten enough movement from the 'Mech to free it from the heaviest layer of rocks and dirt, Joanna tried again to move the machine, but it did not budge. She was panting, the breathable air nearly gone. Clawing frantically at the rock wall in front of her, she dislodged rocks and flung them behind her, pushing dirt to either side of her.

Soon most of her torso was out the hatchway and into the tunnel she had dug. Instead of feeling exhilaration at the success, her body wanted to collapse, close its eyes, rest, and fall asleep. Fighting the urge to give up, she began to dig even more ferociously.

At just the moment when she might suddenly have tipped over the edge into unconsciousness, Joanna's left hand broke free into the hot, humid outside air. Knowing escape was so close, she rallied what little reserve energy still remained and frantically began to scratch, dig, and claw forward. Soon she had created a substantial hole. Air flooded in and she hungrily drew in a normal breath. Pushing herself headfirst, she forced her body through the opening, and emerged into the scorching air of Twycross. Joanna nearly collapsed just as she worked her legs out of the hole, rolling three or four meters down the slope of the rockfall. She landed on her back. Looking up, she saw the HellbringerТs shoulder, its launch mount bent backward, and a small part of the head. It seemed to peek out from beneath a rock pile.