Justin nodded slowly. "It seems like a neat package to me. Gray. I can see what you mean about organization, too. What do you make on a deal like this?"

Noton laughed. "Normally, I'd clear 100,000 C-bills, but Lestrade paid me in a wager ticket on Fuh Teng's fight against Billy Wolfson." The information broker frowned. "You cost me a great deal of money, Justin, but I'm not one to hold a grudge."

Justin smiled and lied at the same time. "Neither am I." He narrowed his eyes. "Why don't you just demand more from Lestrade?"

Noton shook his head. "Not good for business. However, he's more than made up for it. The passenger list is worth at least that much to other customers."

Justin held out his hand out to take the folder, while Noton continued to speak. "I've been asked to discover information about others, from time to time, and a name or two appear on that list. My people will deliver the ship to whoever pays the most for it, and I'm the one who'll decide who the buyer's to be. Once that list circulates, the bidding war should start."

Justin nodded, then started as he read the name "Leftenant Andrew Redburn" on the list. The MechWarrior grinned easily. "Hmmm. I can see a few folks here who would be worth some nice ransoms."

Noton nodded. "So I told Lestrade even before seeing the list. His people balked at the fee, which exceeded his budget."

Justin stood and stretched. He took a second look at the passenger list, then closed the folder and handed it back to Noton. "And so, have others bought in?"

Noton glanced at his chronometer. "Well, Tsen Shang will be here in a hour. He'il offer 10,000, but I'll get him up to 25,000. Later I'll nail him on the ship's location." He smiled up at Justin. "What do you think? Are we partners?"

Justin smiled and gave Noton his good hand. "Till death do us part."

36

New Avalon

Crucis March, Federated Suns

5 May 3027

Hanse Davion looked up as Quintus Allard entered the office. The Minister glanced at the other man in the room, hesitated, then set a holodisc down on a table. "Forgive me, my Prince, I did not realize you were occupied."

The Prince stood and moved from behind his desk. "Not at all. Have you two met? Quintus Allard, Count of Kestrel and Minister of Intelligence Information and Operations, this is Baron Robere Gruizot. He's been sent by Duke Michael to ensure closer coordination of efforts between the Capellan March and the rest of the Federated Suns."

Quintus Allard had to force a smile as he shook hands with the noble from New Syrtis. Hanse saw it and understood, for it was truly difficult to look at Gruizot. Swarthiness and corpulence were often a problem of genetics, but this unkempt man's lack of personal hygiene were enough to make the Prince wish for Count Vitios in his place.

The Baron, his hand free of social duties, picked at his teeth. "Pleased to meet you, Quintus. I've heard much about you. Made sure I had my Kentares flu shots before I started out from home."

"So I gathered from your file." Quintus recovered the disc and stooped down before the Prince's playback unit. As Quintus straightened up slowly after loading the holodisc, Hanse thought he looked gray and haggard.

"How bad is it, Quintus?"

Quintus shook his head. "Things begin to unravel, my Prince." He moved to the chair that Hanse indicated for him, but swung it around for a view of both the holovid monitor and the Prince.

"Should I be leaving?" the Baron asked reluctantly.

Hanse Davion frowned. "Why would you leave? I have no secrets from Michael. You, as his representative, are due the same courtesy. We are, after all, nobles of the Federated Suns." The Prince pointed Gruizot to another chair, where the Baron seated himself like an obedient child. "Please, Quintus, continue with your briefing."

"Let me take it from the top." Quintus said wearily, and it almost seemed to Hanse that the man had deflated some.

"On 20 April, Justin Xiang killed Billy Wolfson in a challenge match. After that match, Justin made a statement. It took twenty days for it to get here." Quintus punched a button on the holovid deck's remote control. "Brace yourself, your Highness. This isn't pretty."

Justin, sweaty and still clad in cooling vest, stared out from the holoviewer's screen. The announcer's voice finished a question, and Justin smiled coldly. "What do I think of my opponents? I think Billy Wolfson is a prime specimen of the caliber of all Fed-erats. He was a short-sighted bigot who assumed, naturally, that his racial stock was superior to my mixed blood. He forgot that I had defeated him easily before. Or else he blamed that and my other victories on trickery. He could not admit that I was the superior MechWarrior, and that is what cost him his life."

The announcer's voice interjected. "But what about the Fed contingent's dominance of the fights here, especially in the Open Class."

Justin snorted derisively. "I know what you really mean to ask. Your real question is what do I think of Philip Capet?" Justin laughed humorlessly to cut off the announcer's weak denial. "Well, I'll tell you. Philip Capet is the perfect ape of Prince Hanse Davion. Davion is a coward who sends surrogates to do what he is not man enough to do himself. He plans campaigns, like the Galtor debacle, to kill valiant men, then conveniently forgets so that even more men die because of his inattentiveness. And that is just how Capet killed both Billy Wolfson and Peter Armstrong. He taught them what he believed it is to be a man, but did not remind them that the rules were different when they faced off with me."

"What do you mean, Justin?"

Justin's face hardened into a granite mask. "He told them that real men fight without enabling their ejection seats. He maintains that anyone who can punch out of a 'Mech will leave too early. He taught that to earnest young soldiers and got them killed in war. Likewise, he has preached that to MechWarriors, here, and they have died trying to conform to his idea of manhood. Yes, Capet and his master, Hanse Davion, are fearful men hiding behind anyone who will execute their orders—and the consequences be damned."

Quintus hit a button and the screen went black. Hanse Davion sat back in his chair. His steepled fingers masked the expression on his face, but nothing could conceal the fury in his eyes. Gruizot sputtered irate nonsense and glanced from the screen to Hanse and back again.

Quintus cleared his throat quietly. "Forgive me, my Prince. I know the message is vile, but it is not out of line with the usual drivel MechWarriors spout after their battles."

Hanse nodded slowly. "Justin has killed six pilots now?"

Quintus nodded. "All from the Federated Suns. Granted, they were scum and we are well rid of them."

Gruizot waggled his finger and perched himself on the edge of his seat. "But they were ournationals, Quintus."

Hanse saw Quintus frown impatiently at Gruizot, and spoke up quickly. "I fear Baron Gruizot is correct. We cannot have our nationals murdered just because they are from the Federated Suns. Could we have one of our agents terminate him?"

Quintus swallowed hard. "There is more, your Highness, and it will answer your question." Hanse nodded as Quintus continued. "According to a debriefing and report directly from our agent closest to Justin, it has been learned that Gray Noton was the pilot who wounded Justin on Kittery. She overheard Noton say something that indicated he was present at the battle. So present was he that our agent believes that Noton was piloting a Riflemanon Kittery."