"Aside from that, Primus, to attempt such a rescue would easily poison our relationship with the clans. If it turns out that they cannot be stopped, the gratitude of Theodore and Takashi Kurita would be worthless."

Myndo smiled approvingly. "Well-spoken, Precentor Dieron. We must remain always a step ahead of events. In the meantime, what is your estimate for how long this yakuza resistance will last?"

The slender Precentor from the Draconis Combine shrugged. "I have no way to judge this. My informants cannot or will not travel among the yakuza. We have been unable to gauge their strength, but unless the yakuza have a storehouse of weapons and munitions hidden away, their resistance cannot last. They will cause trouble, but they will never drive the invaders from Turtle Bay."

All the Precentors turned to Myndo now that the reports seemed to be complete, but she was looking at Ulthan Everson, her old adversary. She smiled, as at some secret amusement. "Yes, Precentor Tharkad?"

Fingers intertwined, Everson rested his hands on the podium. "I believe, Primus, that the Precentor Martial said Ulric expressed interest in our offer to share intelligence with the invaders. But have we abandoned our own mission of leading humanity back into the light? How does aiding a formidable, possibly non-human,invader in his conquests help us to achieve our own mission? These clan creatures wear civilization like an ill-fitting mask. Our message of spiritual prosperity can mean nothing to them. I do not see the logic in your offer to help them."

"My old friend," Myndo said, and Everson reddened at her patronizing tone. "I believe this course of action is the most logical under the circumstances and doesadvance our cause."

She smiled, as though in innocent wonder, which seemed to deepen his distress. "First, in exchange for military intelligence, the invaders will allow us to remain on their conquered worlds. We will be permitted to act as an interface between the populace and the invaders. In short, we will become a benevolent class of administrators able to restructure the worlds, including all governmental, and more important, educational systems to indoctrinate the people with our message. To wit, ComStar is the savior of all mankind and only through us can mankind rise again."

She ticked off another point on one finger. "Second, we can direct the invaders at targets that we want destroyed for our own purposes. We can prompt the Smoke Jaguars to shatter Luthien and decapitate the Draconis Combine. We can turn them toward cold Tharkad to eliminate that half of the Steiner-Davion axis. With Thomas Marik sympathetic to our cause, we can keep the invaders awayfrom his holding until they have spread themselves thinly enough to be defeated."

Her voice dropped with the last point. "Third, and oh so final, giving the clans military intelligence means that they will become dependent upon us. We will become their eyes and ears, so that on the day we cut them off, they become blind and deaf. By that time, the Precentor Martial will have learned enough to enable him to defeat these hordes. And so all mankind will rejoice as ComStar rises up to destroy the alien invader."

She smiled cruelly. "In short, ladies and gentlemen, the Clans and their invasion are a means to an end. I will use them and then discard them. Thereby, and in our own time, the dream of the Blessed Blake will come true."

BOOK III

Heart of the Beast

19

Edo, Turtle Bay

Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine

16 April 3050

Shin Yodama clutched the threadbare blanket tightly to himself. The sewer's damp chill soaked up into him through the stone ledge where he sat. Moisture condensing on the tunnel ceiling dripped down with a dreadful monotony, but he tried to use it as a kind of mantra. Anything ... anything to take me away from this place.

Two men grumbling next to him broke his concentration. "Why do we follow the Old Man if he is content to keep us down here like rats? These invaders are not a storm that will blow over. I do not think the Old Man has the will to fight them."

"He may be content to die down here in the darkness," the other man said, "but I am not. I want to be staring up at the rings when I go."

Both men fell instantly silent as someone splashed through the knee-deep stream and approached the forward guardpost. Shin drew his pistol, but kept it hidden by the folds of the blanket. The figure approaching through the gloom sped on, seeming unmindful that he was rushing into danger.

As the man pulled parallel with his position, Shin eared back the hammer on the pistol. "Who goes there?" he demanded.

The figure stiffened, his terror apparent. "Azushi Motochika," he gasped.

"Where the hell have you been?" Shin asked, putting his pistol aside. "We were certain the Muen no Dainekogot you."

The man shook his head and confidence replaced the fear in his voice and silhouette. "No. The Smoke Jaguars did not get me, but I got them!" Motochika chortled with selfimportant glee. "Did you hear that explosion earlier?"

Shin nodded. "We assumed it was the Cats trying to seal another of our ratholes."

"No, one of the sewer rats struck back at the Cats. I planted a bomb at the Meibutsu club. It exploded and I think it got all of them. There were a dozen in there. I saw them go in. I counted them."

The other two men whooped with joy and pounded Motochika on the back, but Shin just stared in disbelief. "What about the others in the club? What about ourpeople in there?"

Motochika hesitated, but another of the men answered for him. "What do they matter? They were collaborators. They deserve what they got."

Shin launched himself from the ledge and pistol-whipped the speaker down into the sewage stream. "Idiot! They are our people!Without them and their support, we are nothing! We survive on their generosity because they believe we can drive the Smoke Jaguars away."

Before the echoes of Shin's outburst could fade, the heavy thunder of a BattleMech marching overhead smothered the sound. The three other men cringed in terror, the wet one pressing a hand to the gash Shin's gun had opened on his cheek. Shin looked up, the Mech Warrior in him not letting him show fear. He pointed at Motochika.

"You! Come with me. We're going up to see what the Cats are doing. You two stay here." Without further ado, Shin set off down the tunnel, then along a side passage running north. His course took him beneath the streets that the 'Mech trod above. When the 'Mech stopped, however, Shin continued on until he came to a set of rusty iron rungs set into the wall. He let Motochika catch up with him, then pointed up. "This leads to an abandoned building that should be just up the street from where they're standing. You go first."

Motochika mounted the rungs enthusiastically at first, but slowed as he reached the surface. He timidly pushed the trap door open, then crouched at the edge before waving Shin on up. Shin, who had waited in the shadows below the surface light's reach, joined the yakuza bomber and crept across the room to a broken window that looked out onto the street.

It was warmer up here, but Shin felt colder than ever at the sight of the BattleMech he had tagged Daishi—Great Death. It was surrounded by five armored warriors like the one he had been lucky enough to kill in the field two weeks earlier. Each had a boxy missile launcher on his back, clamped firmly to the assembly Shin believed to be a power pack for the armor and its weapons. Instead of relying only on their right-hand lasers, the infantry carried heavy rifles, too. The yakuza MechWarrior noticed how the rifle's trigger-guard assembly fit neatly over the laser muzzle, probably to somehow amplify the laser's energy.