"Battletech.-.Jade.Phoenix.02.-.Bloodname" - читать интересную книгу автора (Battletech)

"Would there be any point?"
"Yes. I am not unfair. Respond."
"Bast insulted me."
"If you were a trueborn warrior, that might be a legitimate defense. But you are a freebirth. Bast was allowed to insult you. Anything more?"
"No."
"Good. Fit him with the dark band, Lanja."
Lanja, her eyes peculiarly somber, placed the ribbon across Aidan's chest and waist, then spent moments smoothing out the band's wrinkles, fussing over the placement of Bast's photograph. Then she stepped back, still looking quite critical of her accomplishment.
The smile faded from Pershaw's face as he gave the proper orders in the proper voice. He told Aidan that during the time he would wear the Memorial Ribbon all would shun him and he could speak to no one unless given express permission. Further, Aidan must not venture out in public without wearing the dark band, that should anyone speak to him about the band, Aidan must respond with neither word nor deed, that he must always remember that the Memorial Ribbon
was to remind him—as it reminded others—of the unnecessary death he had caused.
When Kael Pershaw was done, Aidan saluted him, then passed by the somber Lanja, realizing he could kill them both. But especially Pershaw. Just as he had with Bast, Aidan would take great pleasure in standing over the corpse of his commanding officer.
Lanja watched Jorge walk out the door, then turned to Pershaw and said, "He is a proud young man. And clever. He may turn the wearing of the dark band into a virtue."
Pershaw sighed. Uncharacteristic of him to sigh, Lanja thought. "We are Clan. We can only follow the rituals as prescribed. I would rather hang him by his thumbs from a yardarm or stick his head through stocks or even burn him at the stake."
Lanja laughed suddenly. "Just what are you talking about?"
"Those were old forms of punishment, of humiliating the chastised. You do not think Jorge deserves this punishment?"
"I did not say that. I merely said he was proud."
"But was that not admiration in your voice?"
"Was it? Perhaps so. There is something admirable in being able to wear the dark band proudly."
"Then the punishment has failed, has it not?"
"I did not say that. You are merely expressing your own worries, quiaff?"
"Aff. I think the man possesses some strange core that is unpunishable, that cannot be humiliated."
"And you do not admire that?"
"No, I do not. I do not."
They might have continued this conversation, and perhaps found themselves wading in dangerous waters^ if a messenger had not delivered the communique from the Wolf Clan invaders.
Aidan's walk back to the barracks where his Star was housed was agonizing. One after another, as if the call had gone out to form a gauntlet for Aidan, trues stared at the dark band when he passed. Sneers, anger, taunts, crude joking remarks rained down on him. Aidan shut off his mind as best he could and strode with his eyes fixed straight ahead. He knew that if he looked even once into the eyes of any of the trues who were insulting him, the anguish of his shame would drive him once more into the kind of fight that Pershaw and the law of the dark band expressly forbade. Rebellious as he was, even he must accept any ritual that symbolized the way of the Clans.
Horse stood at the door of the barracks, watching the final steps of Aidan's proud walk. A few trues were now stalking his every step, hurling new taunts at him. Horse came out to join him.
Though they could speak no words, Aidan knew his friend was silently saying, "Ignore them," as he came close.
"I will," he said fiercely to himself.
Horse joined him and the two walked together into the barracks. The taunters stayed for a while, making the gesture of the coward in the direction of the barracks. The gesture involved placing one's hands in succession over the face, the throat, the chest, and the genitals. The trues eventually tired of the game, and began to drift away. Their raucous laughter drifted back on the wind for a long while after they were out of sight.
Aidan remained silent for even longer, staring straight ahead, unwilling to look down at the dark band. Horse reclined on a bunk, also keeping quiet. Finally, Aidan spoke:
"I think I must kill Kael Pershaw."
Horse shrugged. "That may be so. But I think this is not the right time."
Aidan smiled. Horse's laconic comments often amused him. "You mean, while wearing the dark band? Just after killing another true?"
"Something like that."
"Perhaps a time will come ..."
"You're not a murderer."
"I was not one. Perhaps I am now."
"There is a book among your books about a man who plans and carries out a murder, and then cannot live with himself."
"Yes, I know. There is a moral to it, but I never much believe in the morals from books. They do not seem to apply to our lives."
Horse shrugged again. "Maybe so."
"But maybe not?"
"Whatever you say."
"Sometimes, friend Horse, you seem to speak in codes."
"Maybe."
Horse's half-smile made Aidan laugh. He kept laughing until his hand accidentally found the dark band and its silken texture. Was it his imagination or did it deliberately press against his chest, constricting his breath?
"We have to get away from here," Aidan said. "Get to some duty that—"
"You told me that the next time you started bemoaning our lives on this backwater planet I should remind you that you had vowed to stop."
"Horse, you always—"
He was cut off by the strident blare of an alarm klaxon. It was sounding off in long, steady tones, a signal that the base was under imminent attack. Reacting instinctively, Aidan and Horse grabbed their battle gear from their lockers as the rest of the Star assembled.
"Horse," Aidan said, "I think we may finally be getting some action."
"Don't bet on it."