Double Eagle(科幻战争)-第26部分

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You’re　clear；　friend。　Clear。　Get　your　machine　home　and　down。”
“Umbra　Eight；　this　is　Seeker　One。　Understood。”
Not　even　a　thank　you？　Marquall　didn’t　care。　He　had　a　fire　in　his　belly；　a　coal　of　excitement　and
satisfaction。　He　was　no　longer　the　kid　who　needed　babysitting。
Something　threw　him　into　his　seat　like　a　kick　in　the　face。　The　Smear　inverted；　every　alarm
screaming。　In　terror；　mystified；　Marquall　dragged　on　the　stick；　but　it　was　slack　and　dead。　He　saw
flame　on　his　port　side；　sections　of　metal　plating　slipping　off　like　fish　scales。
Fire　licked　into　the　cockpit。
“No！”　he　yelled。　“Oh　no；　no；　no！”
He　fumbled　with　his　harness；　trying　to　reach　the　eject　handle。　Half…heard　voices　blasted　out　of
the　vox。
Huge　negative　G。　He　was　already　greying　out。　He　couldn’t　lift　his　hand；　let　alone　reach　the
lever。
In　front　of　him；　like　a　rapidly…spinning　kaleidoscope　image；　the　city　was　rushing　up。
Over　the　Interior　Desert；　09。22
They　kissed　over　the　top　of　a　dune　headland　and　there　it　was。　The　size　of　it　took　their　breath　away。
Judd　voiced　a　particularly　florid　oath。
A　mass　carrier。　It　was　almost　a　kilometre　long；　a　huge　slab　of　burnished　decking　and　raised
ramps；　bronze　in　the　desert　light。　Vast　wheel　assemblies　rolled　it　across　the　dust。　Viltry　had　been
told　the　enemy　called　these　behemoths　aeries；　as　if　they　were　home　roosts　for　the　murderous　bats。　It
was　a　feat　of　mechanical　genius；　a　juggernaut；　a　giant　amongst　machines。
Nothing　could　kill　something　that　big。　Nothing　could—
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He　caught　himself。　They　would　have　to　try。　That　was　the　job　the　God…Emperor　had　decreed　for
them。
“No　hesitation；　Halo；”　he　cried。　“We’re　committed。　Line　up　and　shed；　then　come　around　with
wing…loads　for　the　second　pass。　The　Emperor　protects。”
He　could　see　the　Talons　they　had　been　following　sweeping　in　to　the　fluted　arrestor　runs　on　the
carrier’s　top　side。　They　looked　tiny　by　comparison；　little　gaudy　specks。
The　carrier　had　seen　the　inbound　Marauders；　coming　down　onto　it　at　zero　height。　Hundreds　of
anti　aircraft　batteries　tracked　round；　alert；　like　the　alarmed　tails　of　scorpions；　and　the　air　was　filled
with　bursting　flak　and　zipping　tracers。　A　hailstorm　of　fire。
“Stay　on　it；　stay　on　it…”　Viltry　ordered。
A　siren　screeched。　Amongst　the　blizzard　of　flak　bursts；　Viltry　glimpsed　the　trail　smoke　of
missiles　banging　off　from　the　carrier。
Wordlessly；　he　hit　the　chaff　switch；　and　clouds　of　glittering；　distorting　material　puffed　out　of
Greta’s　launchers。　Then　heat…flares　too。　Near…miss　explosions　shook　the　airframe。　The　space
between　the　onrushing　planes　and　the　vast　carrier　was　muddy　with　flash　flowers　and　blooms　of
black　and　white　smoke。
A　rocket　struck　Miss　Adventure　and　killed　her　dead。　The　torn　wreckage　and　hull　sections；
moving　at　close　to　mach　one；　cartwheeled　over　the　desert　floor；　raking　the　sand；　spitting　flame　like　a
firework。
“Nose　and　top。　Anytime　you　like；”　Viltry　said。
The　turrets　opened　up；　playing　fire　along　the　carrier’s　starboard　hull。　Viltry；　concentrating　as
hard　as　he　could；　saw　bats　trying　to　launch　from　the　lower　chutes。　Naxol　had　seen　them　too。　A
Locust　came　off　its　ion　catapult　and　burst　like　a　flare。
Ten　seconds。　Five。　Flak　damage　to　the　port　wing。　Ignore　it；　hold　her　true。　Two　seconds。　One。
Release。
Halo　pulled　off　over　the　giant　carrier。　Every　single　bombardier　had　placed　his　drop　perfectly。
Vast　eruptions　lit　up　the　deck；　puncturing　the　armoured　ramps；　blasting　flak　mounts　out　of　their
sockets；　toppling　lifter　assemblies　and　crane　gantries。　Someone—Viltry’s　guess　was　Widowmaker—
dropped　their　clutch　into　the　command　spire　that　rose　over　the　top　deck　section。　A　massive　fireball
spread　out；　felling　the　spire　in　ragged　chunks。
Four　Marauders　pulled　clear　of　the　blazing　carrier。　Throne　of　Terra；　bombs　gone；　had　been　hit
by　flak。　In　his　rear…picter；　Viltry　saw　it　flip　onto　its　back　and　crash　into　the　sands。
The　four　remaining　planes　arced　round　in　formation；　turning　high；　and　began　their　second　pass。
Monumental　palls　of　smoke　rose　from　the　stricken　carrier。
They　came　in　with　rockets　now；　turrets　blasting　again。　The　wing…loads　loosed；　and　snaked　off　on
spiralling　trails　of　smoke。　There　was　nothing　like　the　same　weight　of　flak　on　them　now。
The　rockets　splashed；　sheeting　fire　and　hull　fragments　into　the　desert　sky　as　the　Marauders　went
over。
They　began　to　pull　away；　climbing。
Something　primal　and　catastrophic　happened　to　the　carrier。　Most　likely；　one　of　the　rockets　had
penetrated　the　magazine　or　the　drive　section。　The　carrier　spasmed；　shook；　and　then　incinerated　in
one　stupendously　bright　flash。
The　Shockwave　almost　knocked　Halo　out　of　the　air。
They　soared　out；　stabilising。　A　giant　cloud　of　smoke；　shaped　like　a　forest　mushroom；　filled　the
sky　behind　them。
Theda　MAB　South；　09。30
The　Operations　rotunda　was　frantic　with　activity　and　chatter。　Between　them；　the　flight　controllers
were　overseeing　four　major　air…fights　and　nine　intercept　sorties。　“Darrow？”
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Darrow　was　staring　up　at　the　roof　dome；　where　sunlight　was　spilling　in　through　the　collar　of
stained　glass。
“Darrow？　Junior？”　Eads　sounded　tetchy。
Darrow　started。　“Sir；　I’m　sorry。　My　mind　was　drifting。　No　excuses。　What　were　you　saying；
Flight？”
Eads　turned　his　face　towards　the　young　man。　There　was　sympathy　in　its　sightless　look。　Eads　held
out　a　scrap　of　printout　wafer。　“I　thought　you　might　like　to　announce　this；　son；”　he　said。　“Proof　that
not　just　bad　things　happen　in　this　life。”
“Flight？”
“They　told　me　about　Heckel；　son。　I’m　sorry　that　it　had　to　be　you　who　found　him。　Think　about
something　else　now。　Announce　that。”
Darrow　looked　down　at　the　flimsy　printout；　then　smiled。　He　looked　up　and　cleared　his　throat。
He’d　heard　junior　flight　controllers　and　assistants　make　proud　announcements　like　this。　Now　it　was
his　turn。　And　it　beat　them　all。
“Attention；　attention。　Halo　Flight　confirms　it　has　destroyed　a　mass　carrier　in　the　north　desert。
That　is　confirmed。　Enemy　carrier　destroyed。”
Darrow’s　smile　widened　as　the　rotunda　broke　out　in　cheers　and　applause。　The　first　carrier　found
and　killed。　Even　Banzie　was　clapping　and　grinning。
Eads　said　something。　Darrow　leaned　forward　to　hear　him　over　the　tide　of　applause。
“Say　again；　Flight？”
“I　said；”　Eads　whispered；　“we　might　just　do　this。　We　might　just　win　this　against　the　odds。”
Palace　Pier；　14。02
It　was　a　grey；　flat　afternoon；　and　no　one　was　in。　Hardly　a　surprise；　as　the　smoke　wash　from　Ezraville
had　been　fuming　down　the　straits　since　daybreak。
The　cafe　door　opened。　Beqa　looked　up　from　the　slates　she　was　reading　at　the　counter　and　saw
Viltry　in　the　doorway。　Thirty　empty　tables　stood　between　them。　A　Thracian　waltz　idled　in　the
background。
He　smiled；　and　took　off　his　cap。
“Hello。　You　look　pleased　with　yourself；”　she　said；　rising。　He　walked　between　the　vacant　tables
to　reach　her　and　slid　a　haversack　off　his　shoulder。
“A　big　success　today。　A　really　big　one。　My　crews　are　away　celebrating；　madly。　They　will　be
draining　the　vats　of　Theda　dry　tonight。　And　woe　betide　any　ladies　of　easy　virtue…”
“Have　you　been　drinking？”　Beqa　asked。
“Um；　a　little；　maybe。　In　dispersal。　I　do　apologise。”
“Why　are　you　here；　Viltry？　It　sounds　to　me　like　you’re　missing　parties　and　celebrations　and—”
Viltry　opened　his　haversack。　He　pulled　out　two　paper…wrapped　haunches　of　vere；　a　bag　of　sweet
tubers；　bunches　of　fresh　greens；　dessert　biscuits　and　a　bottle　of　sjira　red。
Beqa’s　eyes　widened。　Her　mouth　watered。　She’d　never　seen　the　like；　not　even　before　rationing。
“I　was　given　these。　Sort　of　a　tribute。　Ornoff　sent　a　hamper　down　to　reward　the　unit。　The　men　had
away　with　most　of　the　drink；　obviously。　But　I　kept　the　rest。　I　thought　you　might　know　what　to　do
with　it。　I　mean；　food…wise。　As　a　cook。”
He　looked　at　her。　His　eyes　were　wide　and　honest。
He　added；　“And　I　couldn’t　think　of　anyone　else　I’d　rather　share　it　with。”
“Really？”
“Yeah。　Is　that　all　right？”
“Yes；”　she　said。　“I　think　it　is。”
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DAY　258
Ezraville　MAB；　11。31
“Thanks！”　Jagdea　shouted；　and　jumped　down　off　the　transport。　She　strode　across　the　mud　to　the　hut
and　ducked　as　she　went　in　through　the　door。　Behind　her；　Imperial　machines　thundered　up　off　their
hardstands　into　the　smoke…stained　sky。
He　was　sitting　on　a　fuel　drum；　gazing　at　his　boots。
“You　all　right？”　she　asked。　He　looked；　saw　it　was　her；　and　rose　with　a　quick　salute。
“I　guess；”　said　Marquall。
“Tough　break；　there。　Good　kill；　I　hear。”
“Then　I　got　stung。　A　Talon；　I　think。　Right　on　my　tail。　I　didn’t　see　it。　I’m　sorry；　ma’am。”
“Don’t　be。　You　ejected。　You　came　down　alive。　That’s　all　that　matters　to　me。”
“Can　I　fly　again？”　he　asked。
“Yes；”　she　said。　“Uhm…　if　you　want　to。”
“What　does　that　mean？”
“The　only　available　bird　is　Nine…Nine。　She’s　been　repaired。　You　may　not　want　her。”
“Nine…Nine？”　Marquall　asked。
“Yes。”
Marquall　laughed　dryly。　He　couldn’t　decide　which　was　worse—the　fact　it　was　Espere’s　old　bird；
or　the　fact　it　was　rumoured　to　be　badly　jinxed。
Then；　after　a　moment’s　consideration；　he　realised　that　the　worse　thing　of　all　was　the　prospect　of
not　flying　again。
“I’ll　take　Nine…Nine；”　he　said。　“Maybe　my　jinx　and　hers　will　cancel　each　other’s　out。”
Theda　MAB