Double Eagle(科幻战争)-第46部分

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136
Beyond　the　arch；　there　was　nothing；　except　a　tangled　mess　of　black　iron　and　charred　wood
sprawled　out　into　the　surging　tide。　The　piers　were　gone；　destroyed；　all　three　of　them。
I　think　it’d　take　a　lot　to　bring　the　palace　doayer　had　said。
Oskar　Viltry　felt　his　legs　go　numb　and　weak。　He　leaned　against　the　cast　iron　railing　and　closed
his　weary　eyes。
Theda　Old　Town；　06。30
There’d　been　a　plan。　A　trip　down　to　the　Hydra　on　Voldney；　all　of　Umbra；　and　the　fitters　too；　to　toast
Asche　on　her　way。　Blansher　had　sent　a　message；　ordering　cases　of　joiliq　and　the　private　hire　of　the
main　bar。
But　then　the　snap　call　had　come　in　at　20。00；　and　they’d　gone　aloft　into　the　night；　into　the
mayhem　of　darkness　and　fire。　By　the　time　they’d　returned；　debriefed；　showered　and　been　stood
down；　Larice　Asche　had　already　packed　her　bags　and　departed　to　meet　her　report　time。　She’d　left　a
note。
Good　flying；　Umbra。　See　you　up　there；　somewhere。　Larice。
There　was　an　empty　feeling　in　the　billet。　A　dark　mood；　somehow　worse　than　if　they’d　lost　a
comrade　in　action。　“We’re　going　anyway；”　Blansher　said。
They’d　reached　the　Hydra　at　four　in　the　morning；　just　as　the　staff　were　hoping　to　close；　and　tried
their　level　best　to　rouse　a　party　mood。　But　it　was　like　a　wake。　Blansher　said　a　few　words　about
Asche；　and　they　were　good　words　too；　but　they’d　have　sounded　better　coming　from　Jagdea。　The
crew　of　Umbra　sat　around；　morose。　The　fitters；　always　up　for　a　free　drink；　got　drunk　and　loud；　but
kept　themselves　to　themselves。　Van　Tull　and　Cordiale　left　after　an　hour。　Zemmic；　who　had　been
discarded　by　Larice　Asche　as　quickly　as　Marquall；　got　brutally　intoxicated　and　then　violently　ill。
Ranfre　took　pity　on　him；　found　a　driver　with　a　truck；　and　took　him　back　to　the　base。
Which　left　Marquall；　Del　Ruth　and　Blansher。
“Not　exactly　what　I’d　planned；”　Blansher　said。　The　three　of　them　sat　around　a　table；　toying　with
shot　glasses。　On　the　other　side　of　the　bar；　Racklae　and　the　fitters　were　playing　drinking　games；
roaring　out　with　laughter　and　good　humour。　The　red…eyed　bar　staff　sat　behind　the　counter；　longing
for　them　all　to　go　home。
“We　could　join　them；”　Del　Ruth　suggested；　tipping　her　head　in　the　direction　of　the　fitters。
“And　spoil　their　fun？”　Blansher　said。　“Pilots　need　fitters　and　fitters　need　pilots；　and　there　is　a
bond　close　to　love　between　them。　But　socially？　No。　Different　worlds。　Different　classes。　We　go　over
there；　try　to　join　in；　we’ll　be　as　welcome　as　a　turd　in　a　foot　bath。”
Agguila　Del　Ruth　had　been　halfway　through　a　sip；　and　snorted　with　laughter；　choking　so　hard
Marquall　had　to　slap　her　on　the　back。
It　was　the　best　laugh　they’d　had　all　night。
“Throne　save　me；”　Blansher　sighed。　“This　is　so　not　what　I’d　planned。”
“Story　of　my　life；”　muttered　Marquall；　pouring　out　another　measure　of　joiliq　for　each　of　them。
“What’s　this　now？”　said　Del　Ruth。　“Self…directed　misery　too？”
Marquall　shrugged。　“Do　you　know；　I　was　top　of　my　class　at　Hessenville。”
“Weren’t　we　all？”　said　Del　Ruth；　raising　her　eyebrows　at　Blansher。
“No；　not　me；”　said　Blansher　sadly；　reaching　for　his　drink。　“I　was…　bottom。　Pilot…cadet　voted
most　likely　to　wash　out。　I　failed　every　exercise。　Not　just　failed；　mind。　Failed　dismally。　One　day；　my
instructor　took　me　to　one　side；　led　me　out　to　an　obs　deck　overlooking　the　Scald。　He　pointed　to　it。　He
said；　“Milan；　this　is　your　birth…world。　Plenty　of　sky；　not　very　much　land。　If　you　can’t　fly；　boy；　what
the　frig　else　do　you　think　you’re　going　to　do？　Swim　for　the　Emperor？”
Del　Ruth　snorted　her　drink　again　and　started　coughing。
“Damn　you！”　she　gagged；　wiping　her　mouth　on　a　napkin。　“That’s　twice。”
Blansher　smiled。
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“I　was　top　of　my　class；”　Marquall　said。　“Accelerated　program；　right　at　the　end　of　the　liberation
war。　I　mean；　I　was　good。　I　longed　to　fly　combat。　Kill　bats。　But　now　I’m　in　it；　in　the　combat　zone…　I
screw　up。　I　can’t　hit　a　thing。　My　birds　break　down　on　me。　I　get　people　hurt。”
“That’s　one　way　of　looking　at　it；”　Blansher　said。
“There’s　another　way？”
“Well；　for　a　start　there’s　the　matter　of　two　fine　kills。　Besides　that；　you’ve　saved　my　life　in　the
air；　and　I　can’t　speak　for　others。　You　survived　an　eject　from　a　slain　machine…　not　many　do　that。
And　there’s　that　heroic　use　of　rocket　drive　to　break　out　of　a　kill…shot。　That　last　thing　alone；　Vander；
that’s　one　for　the　archives。　I　don’t　know　of　anyone　who’s　even　tried　that；　let　alone　come　back　to　talk
about　it。　Seekan　should　have　come　to　you；　not　Larice。”
Marquall　managed　a　smile。　“Thanks；”　he　said。
“I　mean　it。”
“You’re　a　very　good　exec；　sir。　Just　what　Jagdea　expects。　You　say　the　right　things　and　boost
morale。”
“Maybe；”　said　Blansher。　“Personally；　I　think　there’s　an　up　side　to　everything。　You　just　have　to
see　it。　Say　to　yourself；　is　the　glass　half　full　or　half　empty？”
“They’re　shot　glasses；”　said　Del　Ruth　flatly；　staring　at　her　own。　“They’re　either　full　or　empty。
Anything　else；　and　someone　isn’t　trying。”
“I’ll　drink　to　that；”　said　Blansher；　and　reached　for　the　bottle。
The　three　of　them　left　the　Hydra　at　twenty　past　six　in　the　morning；　dim　light　filling　the　sky。　The
fitters　were　still　carousing。　Blansher　led　them　to　the　nearest　Munitorum　depot；　booked　out　three
transports　and　drivers　from　the　pool；　and　then　returned　to　the　Hydra　to　collect　the　reluctant　ground
crew。
They　drove　out　along　the　highway。　It　seemed　otherwise　deserted。　The　strip　of　road　was　littered
with　trash　and　discarded　possessions。　Some　broken　down　vehicles　sat　on　the　hard　shoulder。
Marquall　was　riding　in　the　back　of　one　of　the　trucks　with　Racklae　and　a　group　of　the　ground　crew。
“You　hear　that？”　he　said　suddenly。
Racklae　turned　and　cocked　his　head；　trying　to　hear　above　the　noise　of　the　truck　engine。　“Fan
drives。　Lots　of　them。”
“Another　raid？”　asked　one　of　the　men。　“Doesn’t　sound　like　bombers；”　said　Racklae。
“Heavier…”
“Oh　shit…　look！”　Marquall　cried；　pointing　to　the　southern　sky。
Massive；　multi…vectored　drop…ships　were　sliding　in　across　skies　above　the　eastern　suburbs。
Thousands　of　dots　were　showering　out　of　them；　like　windblown　pollen。
Storm　troopers；　on　jump　packs。
From　the　depths　of　the　war…torn　city　behind　them；　sirens　began　to　rise　into　a　howl。　The　mass
invasion　had　begun。
Theda　MAB　South；　06。39
The　flashes　of　the　detonations　were　coming　so　fast　the　early　daylight　appeared　to　be　strobing。　There
was　a　gritty；　sizzling　noise　from　the　continuous　bombardment。　How　could　the　sky　hold　up　so　many
aircraft？
Darrow　ran　towards　the　Operations　centre。　Bombs　were　falling　on　the　inner　city；　and　several
Tormentors　had　swung　over　the　field　wide；　loads　gone；　turning　out　over　the　sea。　The　airfield’s
defence　batteries　were　hurling　everything　they　had　at　the　sky。　Tracers　spiked　up　and　danced；　flak
turned　the　air　into　a　broiling　mass　of　flame…lit　smoke。
Fighters　were　already　lifting　off　the　field；　either　to　fight　or　flee。　Darrow　heard　mounting　engineroar
from　several　Oneros　and　other　mass　lifters。　Figures　mobbed　across　the　landscape。
“Extraction？”　Darrow　yelled　at　a　Navy　officer。
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“Everything；　now！”　the　man　yelled　back；　still　running。　“We’re　pulling　out　now！”
Darrow　looked　to　his　left　in　time　to　see　the　Apostles　lift　off。　They’d　been　prepped　for　a　first　light
call；　and　now　they　launched；　climbing　north…east　in　the　turmoil　of　the　air。　Their　cream　paintjobs
made　them　look　like　blades　of　ice　in　the　fire…lit　sky。
A　sonic　boom　split　the　air　like　the　muzzle　bang　of　an　artillery　piece。　A　Hell　Talon　streaked　long
and　low　over　the　field；　and　left　a　crop　of　furious　blasts　in　its　wake。　Two　Marauders　were　blown　up
on　their　hardstands。　Darrow　was　one　of　the　many　who　threw　themselves　flat　as　the　Talon　thundered
over。
The　wind　was　full　of　smoke　and　scraps　of　airborne　ash。　The　furious　metallic　hammering　of　a
nearby　Hydra　almost　drowned　out　the　background　roar　of　explosions　and　jet　engines。
Darrow　got　up　and　started　running　again。　Another　aircraft　went　over；　and　he　saw　running
personnel　not　twenty　metres　away　from　him　thrown　into　the　air　by　cannon　fire。　Then　there　was　a
tremendous；　vibrating　roar　and　a　prickling　wash　of　heat　as　a　laden　Onero　took　off　and　crawled　past
overhead。
There　was　blood　in　Darrow’s　left　eye。　He’d　caught　a　scratch　in　the　left　eyebrow；　shrapnel
probably；　and　blood　was　running　down　into　his　vision。　He　kept　running。　Another　big　transport　took
off；　kicking　up　dust　and　grit。
Darrow　saw　bodies　on　the　ground。　Two　Navy　airmen　and　three　ground　crew。　The　force　of　the
strafing　fire　that　had　claimed　them　had　punctured　the　ground　in　a　long；　broken　gouge；　snipped　most
of　their　garments　clean　off；　and　left　them　lying　in　impossible；　dislocated　poses。
Darrow　glanced　away。　It　was　a　hard　thing　to　look　at。
People　still　ran　past　in　all　directions。　Some　were　wounded　and　being　helped　by　others。　Two
pilots　staggered　past　carrying　a　fitter　upright　between　them。　The　fitter　was　making　an　odd；　sobbing
noise。　His　face　was—
Again；　Darrow　turned　his　eyes　aside。　Over　on　the　hard…stands；　the　latest　enemy　strafing　run　hit　a
bowser；　and　a　huge　sheet　of　yellow　flame　splashed　up　into　the　air。
On　the　northern…most　pads；　squadrons　of　Valkyrie　carriers　were　warming　up；　their　stem　hatches