Finish her? Aidan thought. Any attack he mounted now, with him heavy with firepower and her nearly helpless, might kill her. Peri belonged to his sibko. He had known her all his life, had grown up with her. How could he be ordered to end that in a split second?

Yet, in every training session, the cadets had been inculcated with the necessity of obeying orders. And Joanna had ordered. Noting that his heat scale level was still in the normal range, he zeroed in both lasers and the autocannon on Peri's 'Mech, which was now beginning to right itself.

He set himself to observe his victory as he pressed the buttons controlling his weapons. And nothing happened.

Peri's Kit Foxstood passively and no firepower was being emitted from Aidan's weapons. He began punching buttons so hard he felt his joystick slip and slide in its anchoring notch. No matter what button he pushed, there was no weapons response. The weapons display on his screen indicated complete shutdown.

When Joanna's voice came back online, she sounded quite pleased. "You might as well declare yourselves dead, the both of you. Cadet Peri, your actions looked suspiciously like cowardice. No response. Cadet Aidan, your hesitation would have set you up for the kill, had you faced an opponent skillful enough to see it and act on it. Do you understand this? Respond."

"I understand, Falconer Joanna. I should have reacted instinctively, taken advantage of the moment."

"At least you got something right, cadet. You had an entire second to react, and you did not. I shut off all of your 'Mech's functions by remote control. In that second of inaction, an enemy could have cut off your head, ripped the fusion engine out of its compartment, and eaten it for breakfast. Disembark from the training 'Mechs, both of you. Now!"

On the ground, as Techs checked out each 'Mech, Aidan felt humiliated. A look over at Peri showed she felt the same. Their sibko came out of the control tower. Instead of offering siblike consolation, their eyes were averted. They stood silently by, allowing Falconer Joanna to emerge from the facility. Her expression did not show the usual arrogance, however. Instead, it was impassive, glancing at Aidan and Peri as though they were from another caste. She ordered the Techs to inform her when the two 'Mechs were ready. One of them said it would be some time because Peri's 'Mech had heated up to low-dangerous levels.

"We will wait, cadets," she said, turning back to the sibko. "We have been allocated only these two light 'Mechs for our early training. A Clan economy, one that I question. However, we can use this intercession to consider the mistakes our less-than-valiant fellow sibkin have made. When you are in the cockpit, consider what you would have done, what you would do in other situations. Preparedness is the key to success in any warfare. Cadet Marthe and Cadet Tymm!"

Both cadets snapped to attention. Joanna walked over to them and stood very close when she spoke again: "You two will take the 'Mechs out next. This time I would like to see effort. Flash is useless. Shooting off your weapons like the heroes of village tales will get you nowhere."

Aidan wanted to shout at her. Preparedness? How did she dare utter the word, when she had sent him and Peri into a battle without a comfortable set of advance instructions like those she was now giving Marthe and Tymm? The moment the question entered his mind, he knew its answer. Joanna and the others had drilled it into them. There were no proper rules for the conduct of war, no instructions preceding an ambush. And that was what had happened to Aidan and Peri. They had been ambushed, set to fight without preparation just the way it could happen in the midst of a full-fledged engagement.

Joanna finished her speech to Marthe and Tymm, then went over to the Techs to berate them for their slowness. She never seemed satisfied unless she was complaining at someone. The Techs, as was their wont, looked respectful without allowing her words to interfere with their work.

As Aidan walked toward the others, each of his sibkin found a way to avoid his glance. Even Marthe.

Silently, he stood beside her. It seemed as if she had grown a bit faster and was now even taller than he. Or perhaps the trial he had just been through had taken something out of him, made him momentarily smaller. Perhaps a bad experience could do that, make your insides settle inside you so that you temporarily lost a couple of centimeters in height until you revived.

"Why are we no longer friends, Marthe?"

"We are friends. We are sibkin."

"And we have always been that. But it was once different between us. We were, well, close."

She seemed to shudder. "Perhaps. And I see now that it was wrong. It is wrong for two people in the same sibko to favor each other. The sibko is what is important, not its individual members."

He sighed. "Are you sure of that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look around you and start praising the sibko. Once there were more than ninety of us. Now the others are gone, dead or assigned to nonwarrior castes."

"That is the way of the Clan for warriors."

"Marthe, only six of us are left. When it comes to the Trial of Position, even fewer will remain. There is no sibko anymore. There are only a half-dozen cadets ready to tear out each other's throats."

For a moment Marthe looked at him with some of the old concern in her eyes. "Be careful. If Falconer Joanna hears you talking such heresy ..."

"Heresy? Is it that? She is one of those who have worked at setting us apart, all of us. It is calculated. That is the only thing I have figured out."

"Figured out? What right have you to—"

"Every right. I am just as concerned with my survival as you are with yours. And that, Marthe, is the difference."

Joanna had noticed them talking and was staring their way with suspicion in her eyes. He had never revealed his special affection for Marthe to Joanna, but he was sure she sensed it.

"Marthe, think of the history we have been taught. They tell us tales of armies shaped into fighting units, of Stars whose warriors think each other's thoughts so closely that they are precisely aligned. But what do they do here? They find ways to separate us."

"I do not know what you mean."

"We come here as a unit, as a sibko that has grown up together, formed such an intimacy that we can almost read each other's minds. Frequently we do read each other's minds, to the point of saving lives. Now, after all this training, those of us who have survived hardly speak to one another. Bret and Rena have formed a kind of alliance, and the rest of us are on our own. They have split us up, the training officers."

"And I am certain, if you are right, that it is done with an excellent purpose."

"Then you admit that I am right."

"I admit nothing."

"And once you would have. Once we would have talked through the night if there was a problem."

"You spend your nights with—"

"Do you think I would if she did not order it?"

"I do not know what you would do."

"And once you would have known everything I would do. Do you not see? We are being trained to be isolated in the cockpit of a BattleMech, to be on our own, bid on our own, cheat each other if necessary, destroy each other if-"

"Is that why you hesitated when you had a chance at a clear victory today?"

"I might have killed Peri."

"And would that have mattered to you?"

"I do not know anymore. I think it would. Yes, damn it, I think it would. I remember playing at warrior with Peri when we were all children. That may have prevented me from taking the risk of killing her."