Double Eagle(科幻战争)-第59部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


It　was　trying　to　extend；　its　sport　denied　by　the　four　pilots。　Darrow　opened　the　throttle　and　gave
chase；　following　its　attempts　to　evade。　He　let　the　sights　roll　through　it…
Lock。
He　fired。
The　bat　blew　up。　Just　like　that。　A　vivid　backdraft　of　flame　and　flying　scrap。
Jagdea　saw　an　aerial　explosion　underlight　the　clouds　ahead　and　screamed　in　rage。　She　let　the　bat
she　was　chasing　pull　out　and　flee；　and　raced　towards　the　flash。
“Flight？　Flight？　What　was　that？”　she　voxed。
“Hello；　Leader；”　she　heard　Viltry　respond。　“That　was　Darrow　making　his　first　kill。”
Lucerna　AB；　10。20
175
They’d　all　made　a　big　fuss；　which　had　made　Darrow　blush。　All　of　them；　that　is；　except　the　young
pilot　called　Marquall；　who　just　looked　sick　or　something。
Darrow　stood　by　his　Thunderbolt　in　the　hangar　for　a　long　while；　just　staring　at　it。
He　could　do　this。　Starting　tomorrow；　he　was　going　to　be　flying　and　killing　for　Enothis　and　the
Emperor。
He　felt　certain　that　after　a　day　or　two；　he’d　begin　to　get　a　real　feel　for　it。
Natrab　Echelon　Aerie；　Theda；　19。10
The　Imperial　city　was　burning。
From　the　deck　of　the　giant　carrier　which　now　occupied　a　headland　above　the　sea；　a　site　that　had
once　been　an　enemy　air…base；　Flight　Warrior　Khrel　Kas　Obarkon　gazed　upon　what　the　forces　of　the
Anarch　had　wrought。
The　sky　had　turned　black；　and　the　flames　from　the　burning　habs　were　stark　and　red。　The　sea
itself　glowed　amber　with　their　reflection。
Overhead；　the　echelons　of　war　machines　flew　past；　gleaming　in　the　firelight。　He　listened　to　the
lusty　purr　of　their　engines　and　smiled。　As　much　as　his　woven　face　would　allow　him　to；　anyway。
His　litter　carriage　awaited。　The　slaves　abased　themselves　as　he　stepped　into　it；　then　earned　him
down　into　the　deck　space　of　the　giant　aerie。
In　their　hundreds；　the　other　senior　echelon　leaders　and　flight　warriors　had　gathered。　The　bronze
horns　were　sounding　and　the　kettle　drums　beating。　Obarkon　drew　back　the　silk　drapes　of　his　litter
and　greeted　the　nearest　of　his　fellows。　Sacolther；　his　armour　engraved　like　alabaster。　Coruz　Shang；
clad　in　chrome；　his　fingers　sheathed　in　golden　claws。　Nazarike　Komesh；　echelon　ace；　impassive
behind　his　green　visor。
The　drums　and　horns　fell　silent；　and　there　was　only　the　expectant　murmur　of　the　company。　In　the
centre　of　the　great　chamber；　the　giant　hololith　projector　rippled　into　life；　projecting　a　translucent
blue　image　ten　metres　into　the　air。　The　flight　warriors　howled　in　adoration；　their　augmetic　voices
shaking　the　hangar’s　rune…scribed　walls。
The　image　was　of　a　face。　Obarkon　thought　the　face　quite　beautiful；　though　it　also　terrified　him。
He　knew　it　was　appearing　simultaneously　on　every　other　mass　carrier　and　command　base　in　the
conquered　southlands。　Hundreds　of　thousands　of　warriors；　echelon　chieftains；　Blood　Pact　officerlords
and　death…priests　were　all　seeing　it；　and　worshipping　it。
But　as　usual；　Obarkon　felt　it　was　looking　directly　and　only　at　him。
The　face　of　Anakwaner　Sek；　Magister　Warlord；　great　and　awesome　Anarch；　sworn　lieutenant　of
the　mighty　Urlock　Gaur　himself；　began　to　speak。
“Tomorrow；”　it　boomed。　“The　day　of　days。　Who　will　find　blood　in　the　air？”
“We　will！”　they　howled　as　one。
“Prepare！　And　let　the　enemy　fall　in　flames！”
176
GOOD　FLYING
THE　BATTLE　OF　THE
ZOPHONIAN　SEA
Imperial　year　773。M41；　day　270
177
DAY　270
Lucerna　AB；　05。01
“Jagdea？　Jagdea？”
She　woke；　heavy…headed　and　slow；　and　for　one　fleeting　moment；　forgot　where　she　was。　Then
she　remembered　and　it　was　like　a　lead　weight　in　her　stomach。
“Jagdea？”　Blansher　was　standing　over　her。　The　ready　room　was　half…lit。　Jagdea　had　been
slumbering　on　the　couch；　wearing　most　of　her　kit。　Aggie　Del　Ruth　was　asleep　in　the　armchair。
“Give　me　a　second；　Mil；”　Jagdea　said；　sitting　up　and　dropping　her　feet　to　the　floor。
“I　don’t　think　I　can；”　he　said。
She　followed　him　into　the　briefing　room。　Viltry　stood　there；　arms　folded。　The　big；　glassscreened
auspex；　which　relayed　tracks　from　the　main　systems　in　Operations；　lit　the　room　with　its
pulsing　green　light。
There　was　nothing　on　the　screen；　except　for　a　half　dozen　returns　that　the　system　had　identified　as
Imperial　patrols。
“It’s　been　quiet　for　three　hours；”　said　Viltry。　“Totally　quiet。”
“You’ve　been　watching　it　for　three　hours？”　Jagdea　yawned。
“I　couldn’t　sleep；”　said　Viltry。
“I　think　it’s　a　woman；”　Blansher　smiled。
Viltry　laughed；　but　for　some　reason　Jagdea　thought　Blansher　might　have　touched　a　nerve。
“You　got　me　up　to　see　nothing？”　she　said。
“Since　when　has　it　been　this　quiet？”　Viltry　asked。　“They’ve　been　coming　thick　and　fast　since　the
moment　we　deployed　on　this　world。　Before　that　even。　Ask　Kaminsky。”
“So？”　she　shrugged。　“They　wanted　a　night　off。　All　that　murder　and　destruction　can　take　it　out　of
you。”
“Bree…”　Blansher　said；　a　touch　of　disapproval　in　his　tone。
“I　apologise。　Extreme　fatigue　makes　me　flippant。　You　think　something’s　coming？”
“Yes；”　said　Viltry。
“So　do　I；”　said　Blansher。　“I’ve　been　on　to　Operations。　They’re　jumpy。　They　know　this　is　odd。
Every　base　in　the　Zophonian　is　on　standby。”
“Get　the　crews　up　and　prepped；”　she　said。
Viltry　nodded　and　hurried　off。
“Something　you　said；”　Blansher　remarked。
“What？”
“That　we　could　fend　them　off；　deny　them；　unless　they　sent　everything　they　had　at　us　at　once。”
“I　must　stop　talking　so　much；”　said　Jagdea。
“Why　would　they　all　be　down；　Bree？　All　of　them？　Every　last　machine？　Why　would　they　be
doing　that　if　they　weren’t　aiming　and　fuelling　and　fitting　their　entire　air　command？”
A　buzzer　sounded　and　Jagdea　jumped。　It　was　the　vox　intercom。　Blansher　lifted　the　set　and
answered。　“Hangar　three　Umbra。　Yes；　sir。　I　see。　Show　us　ready。”
He　hung　up。　“We’ve　just　gone　to　primary　standby。　Long　range　auspex　has　detected　a　significant
background　temperature　rise　in　the　air　above　the　southern　coast。”
“Meaning？”
178
He　shrugged。　“Maybe　an　awful　lot　of　engines　just　started　up　at　the　same　time。”
The　hangar　lights　came　on。　Fitters　scrambled　to　perform　last　minute　pre…flight。　Only　the　vaguest
hint　of　dawn　fell　in　through　the　hangar　mouth。　Marquall　could　smell　the　cold　sea；　the　air。　He　fought
his　nerves。　Everyone　was　tense。　Some　because　they　seemed　to　know　what　might　be　coming。　Others
precisely　because　they　did　not。
“All　right；　Vander？”　Van　Tull　said；　walking　over。　He　was　eating　dried　rations。　How　could　the
man　eat　under　pressure　like　this；　Marquall　wondered？
“Four…A；”　he　replied。　Van　Tull　smiled。　There　was　blood　on　his　gums。　He　was　still　suffering　from
the　hypoxia。　Throne　help　me；　thought　Marquall；　of　all　the　ways　to　die；　all　the　ways　I’ve　imagined
and　had　nightmares　about；　wouldn’t　that　be　the　worst？　Poisoned　by　the　air…mix。　Dead　without
realising　it。
Van　Tull　nodded　over　at　Darrow；　who　was　doing　a　walk　round　of　his　Thunderbolt。
“Lad　did　well　yesterday；　didn’t　he？　Fine　debut。”
“Yeah；”　said　Marquall。　He　was　deciding　whether　or　not　he　needed　to　dash　to　the　latrine　to　vomit。
“He’ll　be　fine。　They　all　will。”
“You’ve　changed　your　bloody　tune；”　said　Ranfre；　joining　them。
Marquall　shrugged。　“Just　hoping　for　the　best；　I　think。　I　hope　they’ll　be　fine—because　if　they’re
not；　we’re　all　screwed。”
Viltry　buttoned　up　his　flight　coat　and　adjusted　his　gauntlets。
He　saw　Jagdea　approaching。　“Anything？”　he　asked。　She　shook　her　head。
“Look　Bree；”　he　began；　“There’s　something　I—”
“What？”
He　smiled。　“No；　now’s　not　the　time。　I’ll　talk　to　you　later。”　Jagdea　nodded。　She　passed　through
the　waiting　pilots。　Zemmic　was　sitting　on　a　camp　chair；　counting　off　his　chain　of　charms；　one　by
one；　over　and　over。　Cordiale　and　Del　Ruth　were　playing　knuckles　to　take　their　mind　off　the　tension。
“All　set；　you　two？”　Jagdea　asked。
“Yes；　ma’am；”　said　Aggie　Del　Ruth。　She　had　such　an　appealing　smile。　Not　what　a　man　might
call　a　pretty　woman；　Jagdea　thought。　Too　stern　in　the　face；　too　heavy　in　the　jaw。　Del　Ruth　was　what
Jagdea’s　father　had　liked　to　call　“cute”。
“Cordiale？”
Cordiale　grinned；　and　patted　his　lapel。　“Got　my　lucky　feather；　commander。”
Scalter　was　chatting　to　Blansher；　asking　him　some　technical　question　about　fuel　pumps。　He
seemed　calm　enough。　Pretty　stable；　that　man；　Jagdea　thought。
Kaminsky　was　standing　alone；　staring　out　of　the　hangar　mouth　at　the　slowly　lightening　sky。
“Are　you　set？”　she　asked　as　she　came　to　stand　beside　him。
“I　think　so；”　he　said。
“Just…　do　your　best；”　she　said。
“I’ve　been　waiting　a　long　time　for　a　chance　to　do　just　that；　mamzel；”　Kaminsky　replied。　He　held
out　his　left　hand。　“I　never　did　thank　you　properly　for　this　opportunity。”
She　shook　his　hand。　It　seemed　odd　to　do　it　left…handed；　but　she　knew　he　didn’t　want　to　use　his
dull　prosthetic。
“I　never　thanked　you　for　getting　me　out　of　Theda；”　she　said。　“Shall　we　call　it　even？”
He　smiled。
“What　do　you　think？”　she　asked。
“Everyone’s　scared；”　said　Kaminsky。　“That’s　what　I　think。　It’s　natural；　I　suppose。　Frankly；　I
can’t　wait。”　He　didn’t　have　to。　The　klaxons　began　to　howl。
Over　the　Midwinters；　05。39
179
Umbra　Flight　cleared　the　dock　and　began　to　rise　in　formation；　burners　bright。　Every　other　hangar
bay　in　Lucerna　spat　out　its　flights。　Seventy…two　Thunderbolts　darted　up　from　the　island　plate