BattleTech: The Proliferation Cycle Omnibus by Edited by John Helfers and Philip A. Lee

Author:Edited by John Helfers and Philip A. Lee
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Catalyst Game Labs

YAMASHIRO (SHIRO CITY)

NEW SAMARKAND, NEW SAMARKAND PREFECTURE

GALEDON MILITARY DISTRICT

DRACONIS COMBINE

20 OCTOBER 2460

Tapping his breast pocket to feel the assurance of the photo within, Ito jaywalked to the accompaniment of the angry horn of a passing hover transport, and plunged into the sidewalk milling with people heading home from work in the late afternoon. The somber purple hat worn by his target kept vanishing, forcing him to crane his neck and try to speed up without giving his position away.

The wash of civilians along the streets of the ancient capital of Yamashiro on New Samarkand assaulted his senses, but years of training overcame his body’s slow decline and he managed, just, to keep up without compromising the tail. After all, it only took three weeks to establish enough of her movement patterns to finally know when would be the best time for contact. Not bad for an old fart.

Fifteen minutes of brisk walking later, and Ito slowed, suddenly faltering in his resolve as he neared the café. What will she think? She just might turn me in. He paused on the other side of the street, drinking in her features, and tapped the photo one more time for strength.

I’ve got to do something to try stopping you, Takeda. Something. And if I can’t stop you, maybe, just maybe salvage something from this mess. From this life. He scuffed his shoe several times against the curb, swallowing the petrol fumes coating his tongue from the New Samarkand Metals plant at this edge of the city, then crossed the road—this time with the light—and stepped up to the table. Without preamble, he seated himself.

Without looking up from reading her newssheet, she spoke. “I prefer to be alone, thank you.”

He smiled, as her voice—a voice he’d dreamed of for so many long years—soothed any worries. Even if she turned him in, to see her one last time, to hear that voice, even if it might never whisper in his ear again…all worth it. “I’m sure you would, Illena, but I’d prefer to sit with you.”

She glanced over the newssheet, green eyes now haloed in wrinkles and the perturbed line marring her forehead melted away under an incredulous, stunned look.

He waited for her to respond, but after the waiter came and went, depositing a coaster and a glass of water and she still sat as though poleaxed, he finally broke the tableau. “You actually going to speak with me? Or did you somehow manage to lose your voice after all these years?”

She slowly leaned forward, placing the newssheet on the table, then reached out a hand to poke him. Roughly. “You’re real. You’re here.”

“Of course I’m real. And here.”

“Could you be more stupid?”

“What?” Emotions seethed at the anger in her voice.

“They’re hunting for you. You vanish off Pesht, and then just show up here? Here!”

“Please,” he said, glancing around surreptitiously, “not so loud.”

“Not so loud?” Green eyes went from shock into anger. “Not so loud. What are you talking about? You’re within spitting distance of our headquarters.

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