Ardan was scared now. Without his autocannon, he was nearly helpless against the Zeus,and among these trees, his much greater maneuverability was useless. The Zeusraised its left arm, which mounted a black-barrelled Defiance autocannon. Ardan knew that the Zeuscarried only five cassette rounds for its cannon, but at this range, with the Victorpinned to the ground by trees and underbrush, that would be more than enough.

He pulled back between the trees as the autocannon fired, its muzzle flash an almost steady flicker reflected in the swamp, the roar of exploding shells and splintering trees a drumming thunder against the Victor'shull. He turned. A mistake! He should have turned right! Shells smashed into his left arm, and warning lights flared on his console. One of his lasers was dead, the other damaged.

He loosed another flight of missiles, but couldn't see the result. Smoke drifted across the swamp, masking his Victorfrom the looming shape of the Zeus.With so much damage to his weapons system, Ardan's only hope was to disengage in the smoke and attempt to fall back to where he could gain support from friendly forces.

Autocannon fire smashed into him from behind now, pounding at his jump jets, fragmenting armor, chopping into his right leg. The leg froze, refusing to move. Clumsily, he attempted to circle the Victoraround its immobile leg to face his attacker. The Zeuswas moving there, looming huge and ominous through trees and smoke. The flicker of that autocannon came a third time, crushing the Victor'suseless right arm and sending the autocannon spinning away in smoking chunks.

Ardan tasted smoke and blood, mingled with the stench of his own fear. The Zeuswas taking its time, lumbering closer, picking its steps with care in the boggy ground. Ardan kept up a steady fire with his lone remaining laser, desperately trying for a hit on the Zeus'scockpit. His missile racks were empty now. There was a crackle and the sparking of shorted circuitry, and the laser died, though his thumb kept smashing at the useless firing button. His fire control systems were shorting out, overloading as circuit boards melted in the ferocious heat in his 'Mech's reactor module.

The Zeuswas closer now, thirty meters away. The autocannon was coming up for another rapid-fire round. It was time to punch out—or die.

Ardan thumbed the safety cover from the emergency eject arming switch, locked off the safety, stabbed the full system disconnect, and armed the chair. An alarm hooted, a panel slid back from the bright red eject button, and his palm slapped down with stinging force. The cockpit dissolved in a red blur, and Ardan was smashed down into his seat as though by some mammoth hand. He was not aware of any noise—the explosion had momentarily deafened him—but the skullcap hatch blew away an instant before his cockpit seat blasted clear of the shattered Victor.

His flight was a short one. The Victorwas canted at an angle against a burning tree, and the ejector seat had slammed into a twisted, overhanging limb, then writhed off in a wildly tilting, tumbling descent across the swamp. The seat's landing jets fired to cushion his landing, but their ground sensors had been smashed and so the jets fired parallel to the ground. His harness shackles broke free, and Ardan's unconscious body plowed feet-first into the dank green waters of the Ordolo swamp.

Consciousness returned with a distant, red haze of pain. His arm throbbed with the dull but excruciating ache of a fracture. Cradling the arm against his chest, he stood slowly, swaying against the waves of dizziness that threatened to topple him back into the greenish water. He heard a crash behind him and turned to see the Zeusgive his ravaged Victora final blow that sent it crumpling into the swamp. The Zeusseemed to be scanning for him, its massive head swiveling slowly against the background of green leaves and hanging moss. Ardan's mind groped for a weapon. His Double-0 Lancer laser pistol was missing, torn out during his brief flight. That left only his knife—a knife against an eighty-ton 'Mech. He began giggling at the thought, his shock-numbed thoughts on the ragged edge of hysteria. He felt the Zeus's gazeupon him and sank slowly down until the water partly covered him once more, but the Zeusdid not seem bent on further pursuit. The sound of battle was thundering now in the east, toward the edge of the swamp. For one long moment, the Zeusseemed to be looking straight at the helpless Ardan, and then it turned and pressed through the dense undergrowth toward the sounds of battle.

He was alone, now. Moving with the clumsy fumblings of an automaton, he found his ejector seat half-buried nearby in the mud. One-handed, he rummaged through a side compartment until he could pull out a preserving sleeve. Once fastened around his injured arm and inflated, the sleeve immobilized his arm and prevented the splintered ends of his humerus from causing further injury. Then he staggered away from the ejection seat, wading through calf-deep mud toward the edge of land nearby.

He staggered out of the swampy water, stiff-legged, scarcely able to move. His throat screamed for water. His uninjured hand fumbled for the survival canister at his belt It was missing, too, torn free somewhere over the waters of the swamp. It had contained capsules for purifying water, a kit for testing foods...Gone.

Ardan dropped to his knees on dry land, His right leg felt badly bruised, and his head throbbed. Though he didn't remember losing his neural helmet in the launch, it was gone, too, and his head felt as though it had been smashed from behind with a club. Years of training made him automatically inventory what he had—knife, boots, shorts. The tattered remnants of his coolant vest. No food. No drinkable water. A broken arm...

Dizziness and pain rose up, obliterating the defenses that training and his mind had erected. He sagged down to the ground, tears of pain, exhaustion, and pent-up fear streaming down his face. Exhaustion won. For the first time in his life, Ardan Sortek fainted.

15

Maximilian Liao was livid. He stood straight, radiating fury, as Ridzik entered his chamber.

"So. What happened, Pavel? How did our clever ambush go wrong?" The Chancellor was so tense that his narrow shoulders quivered, his hands played games with his rings.

"Davion just didn't follow the plan that our agents had reported to us. They changed at the last minute. Far too late for any word to reach us, even through a Command Circuit. One evening, they were set to hit all the logical targets. The next morning, they came down all over the map. Every place on the Follythat could hold up a ship or a 'Mech was busy."

Liao looked bewildered. "But that means Davion himself doesn't know what his commanders have done. How can that be? How could they dare such a thing? Their lives will be forfeit!"

Colonel Ridzik looked grim. "Not every ruler demands the scrupulous adherence to his wishes as do you, Your Grace. Davion allows his commanders much leeway. They can make their own decisions on the ground, as circumstances require. It is not always a bad modus operandi."

Liao's sallow face flushed faindy. "Are you telling me that my ways of operating are sometimes bad ones?"

Ridzik didn't flinch. "By no means, sire. But there are others that may also work extremely well. This time, Davion's method worked. Our only hope of holding the Folly was to surprise his troops as they arrived onworld. Because of their change in mid-operation, we did not succeed in that"

"So, with our lesser armaments, we must retreat. Is that what you're telling me?"