‘Not bad, kid,’ Trev-R muttered.

In the control booth, Kandar Kant and Baron Irvxx Oonthrax monitored the systems of both Mechs. ‘Trev-R's almost out of it’ said the Arena Master. ‘His medium lasers are gone, and so is one gun. He has lost visual display, and the internal heat must be making him groggy. Time now for the coup de grace.’ and he hit the switch that overrode all arena barriers and lowered them back into the concrete.

When the barriers went down, there were only 100 meters between the two 'Mechs, with the Atlasclosing rapidly. Vayil opened up with everything except his last flight of missiles. He squeezed off shot after shot from his autocannon in bursts of five.

Though he had Trev-R dead in his sights, the heavy explosives consistently hit to Trev-R's left. Trev-R moved his 'Mech in a circle to his right, and Vayil kept missing.

Trev-R circled right and shot back with everything he had The three remaining machine guns chattered away, most of the slugs going wide as he sprayed in an arc 60 degrees in front of his 'Mech. The few that hit bounced like peas off the side of an elephant. The guns jammed and quit firing in seconds. as he had expected. His two small lasers were alternately blazing with incandescent heat, but without visuals, he could not focus them tightly enough to do any real harm. Small pieces of armor vaporized on the approaching leviathan, but the wounds were not very deep and he could not keep them in the same spot. His left-hand PPC was blasting out its electrical fury, but the Atlasmoved inside its range, and Trev-R could not hit. As for his right-hand PPC. he kept it out of the fight, shielding it with the body of the Mech. which he angled back and forth.

‘Trev-R! Trev-R!’ yelled the kid into his radio mike. ‘I'm going to try to take you alive, old pal. Don't worry!’

‘What a generous offer!’ crowed the announcer to his worldwide audience.

‘That's right nice of ya. kid,’ gasped Trev-R. He certainly sounded like a dying man. ‘But I expect to win this fight. Switch to my private frequency—there's something you ought to know.’

‘That's the true warrior spirit!’ howled the sports announcer to audiences around the world. Those who had bet on the Atlaswere already beginning to demand that the losers pay up. Those who had bet on the Warhammerwere griping about never again letting long odds seduce them into betting on an underdog.

All of the Atlas'sfirepower coalesced on the elbow joint of Trev-R's one working PPC. For a few seconds, that arm was wreathed in fire as lasers and cannon shells careened off it in thundering fury. Then the ceramic armor evaporated in the hellish heat and the metal arm fragmented into chunks of molten and broken steel For an instant, the myomer muscles and the titanium bone-work of the arm were visible, then they ruptured in a cascade of high-voltage sparks. The joint shattered and Trev-R's weapon went flying backward.

Around Solaris, there went up a great cheer from the Atlasfans.

Trev-R knew the time had come to activate his last desperate plan. He switched to his private frequency, hoping that Vayil was listening.

Vayil quit firing and raised the Atlas'smassive left arm for a punch that should knock the Warhammeroff its feet.

Trev-R figured the arena personnel would not be able to pinpoint his new ultrahigh radio frequency within the few seconds he needed. ‘Listen up, kid. Your life depends on it,’ he said. ‘A few days ago, I found out that this fight was rigged in your favor, and that I wasn't meant to survive. I don't have a working ejection pod. So. two nights ago. I sneaked into the hangar where your Atlaswas being kept and planted a radio-controlled bomb made from some of my missile explosives there in the command center. Very soon now. I'm going to activate it and blow the head off your 'Mech. If you're still inside, you'll be dead. Get out. and get out quick.’

‘You couldn't have!’ gasped Vayil. ‘Arena security would have kept you away from my Mech!’

‘Arena security is lousy, kid, just like their equipment. To prove what I'm savin'. I also recalibrated the sights on yer autocannon so ya wouldn't be able to hit me with it Believe me. kid, yer life depends on it. Punch out real quick now.’

‘You're bluffing!’ Vayil screamed. ‘You love to bluff—you told me yourself. You think I'll back out and you can win. It won't work, Trev-R. This is my fight! I earned it! Damn you. Trev-R! You can't frighten me away like a boy!’

Trev-R could hear the fearand desperation in Vayil's voice. At that moment, the two Mechs stood almost toe to toe with the Atlaspoised for a punch that would knock the smaller 'Mech on its back. Trev-R had his right-hand PPC angled upward so that its shots would come right up into the chin of the Atlas.He hoped that would disguise what was going to happen.

‘Last chance, Vayil! Punch out, kid! Punch OUT!’

‘No! Damn you! No! I don't..’

‘I figgered ya were too dumb to know what's good fer ya,’ said Trev-R. That's why I re-wired yer ejection mechanism, too. Ya will thank me fer this later, kid.’ Trev-R pulled the trigger for the PPC with one hand and pushed the button to eject Vayil with the other. The Atlasfroze in midpunch as its whole enormous body was covered with the dancing fury of Trev-R's particle beam at point-blank range. The top of the Mech's head blew off and an ejection capsule shot 30 meters into the air. deploying a parachute at the height of its arc. Then Trev-R pushed the second button, and the bomb he had fabricated out of all the explosives that should have gone into his missiles detonated with devastating effect. The rest of the Atlas'shead exploded in a great ball of red flame as heavy metallic plates went flying in all directions.

Viewers all over the planet were stunned as the mighty Atlas,now headless, fell over backward.

‘How on Solaris did Trev-R do that?’ blurted the announcer. ‘I don't believe it. Kid Oonthrax had him at his mercy, and he punched out. I don't believe it! The Atlasis down and out! The Warhammerwins! The Warhammerwins!’

In the arena control booth. Baron Oonthrax and Kandar Kant sat gasping at each other like beached fish. ‘You said he couldn't lose!’ croaked the Baron. ‘I bet everything on this fight. I'm ruined.’

‘Your cowardly son punched out.’ retorted the Arena Master. ‘How could I figure on that? It's all his fault! I bet as much as you did. I'm ruined, too.’

They sat there staring at each other with as much hate as disbelief.

Trev-R's Warhammerstood above its fallen foe for a moment, then slowly turned and began to trudge toward the exit. Trev-R knew what would happen next. He would dodge the publicity people, collect his reward, and be offplanet before sundown. His life wouldn't be worth an iron slug on Solaris once they figured out what he had done.

‘I'm sorry, kid.’ he mumbled to himself, ‘but you don't get to be an old MechWarrior by losin' the big ones.’

‘Yeah. I'm sorry, but if ya meet me at Jones's DropShip like I asked in the note I sent. I'll make it up to ya. My old outfit will take ya on if I recommend ya. and with them, ya can learn to be a real MechWarrior.’

BLACK CATS CROSS YOUR PATH

-Tara Gallagher & James Lanigan

Falstatt sweats to death And lards the lean earth as he walks along—Henry IV

Considering there's always a war on somewhere, things have been pretty quiet these days. It's nice to have a little rest time. Time to train some new recruits and to work out a tew new ideas, but only the battlefield can really keep you sharp. ‘Big Bill Flynn.’ I say to myself, ‘A man like you has got to keep fighting, or he's going to turn into just another barroom mariner, always looking for a wedding guest to regale with a story.’ And there's nothing wrong with that, except that you've got to keep coming up with new stories.