The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第24部分

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'That　way；'　I　said。
IT　WAS　CLOSE　to　noon。　The　sun　was　up；　but　the　sap…mists　hadn't　dissipated。　We　were　bathed　in　a　warm；　yellow；　filmy　glare。　According
to　the　tracker；　we　were　about　half　a　kilometre　from　the　auction　site。
'They're　expecting　me　and　Nayl；　so　we'll　go　in　with　Bequin。'　I　wanted　an　untouchable　close　to　me。　'Inshabel；　cut　east　with　Aemos。
Husmaan；　west。　Covering　positions。　Don't　move　in　unless　you　hear　me　vox　a　direct　command。　Understand？'
The　three　nodded。
'If　you　find　anything；　keep　it　Glossia　and　keep　it　brief。　Go。'
Nathun　Inshabel　armed　his　lascarbine　and　moved　away　to　the　left　with　Aemos　along　a　harvester　track…bed；　leaving　tacky　footprints　in
the　glassy；　crashed　residue　at　the　bottom　of　the　huge　rat。　Husmaan's　hempcloth…wrapped　long…las　was　already　armed。　He　darted　away
to　the　right；　quickly　lost　in　the　mist。
'Shall　we？'　I　said　to　Bequin　and　Nayl。
'After　you；'　Nayl　grinned。
I　made　one　last　command　by　vox；　in　Glossia　code；　and　we　trudged　into　the　ripped　thickets　of　the　chew…after。
THE　PHANT'S　PEOPLE　had　used　flamers　to　clear　a　wide　space　in　the　morass　of　the　chew…over。　We　could　smell　the　burnt　pulp…fibre　from
several　dozen　metres　away。

The　mist　was　still　close；　but　I　could　make　out　several　crop…runner　trucks；　skimmers　and　land　speeders　parked　in　the　blackened
clearing。　People　bustled　around　them。
'WHAT　DO　YOU　see？'　I　asked　Nayl。
He　played　his　magnoculars　round　again。　'Phant…　and　his　twist　cronies。　The　horned　guy；　and　that　eyeball　creep。　Maybe　a　dozen；　some
of　whom　think　they're　hidden　around　the　perimeter。　Plus　the　prospective　buyers。　I　make…　three…　no；　four；　all　hive…types；　with
minders。　Sixteen　other　bodies；　all　told。'
I　yanked　up　my　hood。　'Come　on。'
'There's　an　alarm　strand　round　the　site。'
'We'll　trip　it。　That's　what　it's　there　for。'
THE　ALARM　STRAND　was　an　ankle…high　wire…cord　tied　taut　between　the　churned　root　clumps。　Every　metre　or　so；　the　air…dried　shell　case
of　a　storm　bug　was　carefully　tied　to　it；　forming　a　little；　hollow…sounding　bell。　They　rattled　and　jangled　as　we　deliberately　plucked　the
wire。
In　a　moment；　ragged…robed　twist　muscle　loomed　out　of　the　murdered　undergrowth；　aiming　matchlocks　and　blades　at　us。
'We're　s'here　for　the　auction；'　I　told　them；　holding　up　Phant's　tracker。　'S'invited。'
'Name？'　croaked　a　frog…headed　thing　with　a　crossbow　and　a　spittle　problem。
'Eye…gor；　from　off。　With　his　twists。'
Frog…head　waved　us　into　the　site。　The　others　assembled　before　the　low；　flak…board　stage　on　which　Phant　Mastik　stood；　looking　round
at　us。
'Eye…gor！　Off…world　twist；　with　two　others；'　Frog…head　announced。
Phant　nodded　his　heavy；　tusked　head　and　Frog…head　and　his　men　backed　off；　putting　up　their　weapons。
＋＋S'glad　you　could　make　it；　twist＋＋
'You　the　Phant。　You　the　twist　with　the　stuff。　But…　I　s'hear　my　own　name　loud；　not　these　others。'
＋＋Let's　all　be　known；　then　the　sale　can　begin＋＋
Phant　looked　down　at　the　other　buyers。　One；　a　stunning　female　up…spire　hiver　in　a　tight　bodyglove　nodded。　'Frovys　Vassik；'　she　said
through　a　pan…lingual　servitor…skull　drone　that　floated　at　her　shoulder。
She　was　clearly　speaking　some　high…caste　dialect　cant　which　the　drone　was　translating。　I　assayed　her　and　her　two　male　bodyguards
quickly：　Dilettante　wealthers；　would…be　cultist　types；　well…armed　and　armoured　with　all　the　wargear　spire　money　could　afford。
'Merdok；'　said　the　next；　a　frail；　white…suited；　elderly　man　leaning　on　a　cane　and　wiping　perspiration　from　his　brow　with　a　japanagar
lace　kerchief　that　had　cost　more　than　the　lowly　Phant's　entire　outfit。　He　had　four　minders；　squat　females　in　rubberised　warrena　suits；
each　with　an　electronic　slave…leash　collar　around　her　throat。
'Tanselman　Fybes；'　said　the　bland…faced　man　to　Merdok's　left；　stepping　forward　with　a　courteous　nod。　He　was　dressed　in　a　bright
orange　cooler…suit；　with　large；　articulated　exchanger　vanes　sprouting　from　his　shoulders。　His　breath　smoked　in　the　personal　veil　of
cold　air　the　suit　was　generating　around　him。
He　was　also　alone；　which　made　him　instantly　more　dangerous　than　the　hive　retards　who　had　brought　muscle。
'You　may　address　me　as　Erotik；'　said　the　last；　a　bitch…faced　crone　who　had　inadvisably　wedged　her　ancient　body　into　a　close…fitting；
spiked；　black　bodyglove；　the　mark　of　a　death…cultist。
Or　would　be　death…cultist；　I　thought。　She　had　five　masked　and　harnessed　slaves　with　her；　all　of　them　sweating　in　the　misty　heat。　I　saw
at　once　they　were　out　of　their　depth。　They　played　at　death…cult；　up　in　the　eyries　of　the　mainhive；　maybe　cutting　their　skin　and　drinking
blood　once　in　a　while。　The　closest　they　had　come　to　a　real　death…cult　was　watching　some　blurry；　fake　snuff…pict　to　impress　their
friends　after　a　banquet。
'S'greet　you　all。　I'm　Eye…gor。　S'off　world；　and　twisted　as　they　come。'
I　bowed。　Fybes　and　Vassik　returned　the　motion。　Merdok　mopped　his　brow　and　Erotik　gestured　a　very　ham…fisted　sign　of　die　True
Death　which　nearly　made　Nayl　laugh　out　loud。
'Can　we　get　started；　my　friend　Phant？'　Merdok　asked；　dabbing　his　kerchief　around　the　sweat　runs　on　his　face。　'It's　midday　and　bloody
hot　out　here。'
'And　I　have　murders　to　do　and　blood　to　drink！'　Erotik　cried。　Her　plump　and　unhealthy　minders　oohed　and　aahed　and　tried　to　get　their
nipple…spikes　and　bondage　straps　comfortable。
'Oh　dear　God…Emperor…　they're　never　going　to　make　it　out　alive…'　whispered　Bequin。
'More　fool　them…'　I　whispered　back。
PHANT'S　MEN　USED　force…poles　and　electrolashes　to　goad　the　sale　item　from　the　back　of　a　crop…runner　track　onto　the　stage。　It　was　a
rangy　human；　straitjacketed　and　bindfolded；　with　a　heavy　psychic…damper　muzzle　buckled　around　his　head。
＋＋Alpha…plus　quality。　One　only。　S'bids；　now？'＋＋
'Ten　bars！'　cried　Erotik　at　once。
'Twenty；'　said　Vassik。
'Twenty…five！'　cried　Merdok。
Fybes　cleared　his　throat。　His　cough　blew　cold　steam　out　from　the　private　atmosphere　generated　by　his　suit。　'I　think　that's　established
the　common　level　here。　I　do　hate　mixing　with　proles。　One　thousand　bars。'

Erotik　and　her　minders　gasped。
Merdok　looked　pale。
Vassik　glanced　round　at　Fybes　with　a　curt　look。
'Ahh。　At　least　someone　sees　the　true　worth　of　the　item　on　sale。　Good。　We　can　begin　serious　bidding。'　Vassik　cleared　her　throat　and　her
cyber…skull　dutifully　issued　white　noise。　'Twelve　hundred　bars；'　she　said。
'Thirteen　hundred！'　Erotik　cried　out；　desperately。
'Fifteen；'　said　Merdok。　'My　best　offer。　I　had　no　idea　this　meet　would　be　so　hungry…　or　so　rich。'
'Two　thousand；'　said　Vassik's　hovering　skull。
'Three；'　said　Fybes。
Merdok　was　already　shaking　his　head。　Erotik　was　walking　away　towards　the　edge　of　the　site；　complaining　loudly　to　her　pudgy　sextoys；
who　bustled　around　her。
'Three　five；'　said　Vassik。
'Four；'　said　Fybes。
'Anything？'　I　whispered　to　Bequin。
'Not　even　the　slightest　latent　push。　But　those　baffles　could　be　doing　their　job。'
'So　it　could　be　Esarhaddon？'
'Yes。　I　doubt　it。　But　it　could。'
'Nayl？'
Harlon　Nayl　looked　round　at　me。
'Nothing。　The　Phant's　minders　are　getting　edgy　because　the　old　witch　and　her　sad　hump…muffins　are　trying　to　leave　before　the　auction's
finished。　But　nothing　else…'
'Five　five；'　Vassik's　servitor…skull　rasped。
'Six；'　said　Fybes。
Merdok　had　withdrawn　to　one　side　of　the　site　with　his　minders；　and　was　taking　a　sustaining　puff　of　obscura　from　a　portable　water…pipe
one　of　the　war…rena　slave　ferns　was　holding　for　him。　Erotik　and　her　chubby　concubines　were　arguing　with　Horn…head　and　another
couple　of　twists　on　the　other　side　of　the　burned　acre。
'Eight　five！'　Vassik　was　announcing。
'Nine！'　returned　Fybes。
'Fifty！'　I　said　quietly；　tossing　a　huge　pile　of　ingots　down　onto　the　stained　soil。
There　was　a　pause。　A　long；　damned　pause。
＋＋Fifty　bid＋＋
Phant　looked　down　at　us　all。
Merdok　and　Erotik　and　all　their　people　were　simply　dumbstruck。　Vassik　turned　away；　screaming；　and　her　minders　had　to　hold　her
down　as　she　went　into　fits　of　rage。
Fybes　just　looked　at　me；　his　breath　coming　slow　and　short　in　clouds。
'Fifty？'　he　said。
'S'fifty；　count　'em。　You　got　better？'
'What　if　I　have；　Eye…gor？　And　please…　stop　it　with　the　〃s'stupid　s'twist〃　talk。　It's　getting　on　my　nerves。'
Fybes　walked　towards　me。　He　reached　up　and　pulled　his　face　off。　The　flesh　disintegrated　like　gossamer　as　he　pulled　it　away；　revealing
his　blank；　piercing　eyes。
'Oh；　Gregor。　You　do　so　like　to　make　an　entrance；　don't　you？'　said　Cherubael。

ELEVEN
FACE　TO　FACE。
NO　WITNESSES。
DEATH　ALONG　THE　LINE。
HIS　WAS　THE　last　face　I　had　expected　to　see　here；　though　it　had　been　in　my　mind　and　my　nightmares　for　nearly　a　hundred　years。
'It's　been　a　while；　hasn't　it；　Gregor？'　the　daemonhost　said　softly；　almost　cordially。　'I've　thought　of　you　often；　fondly。　You　bested　me　on
56…Izar。　I…　held　a　grudge　for　a　while；　I　must　admit。　But　when　I　learned　you　had　survived　after　all；　I　eant
there　would　be　a　chance　for　us　to　meet　again。'
The　orange　cooler…suit　began　to　burn　and　collapse　off　him　in　molten　hanks　until　he　was　naked。　He　rose　gently；　arms　by　his　side；　like　a
dancer；　and　hovered　on　the　wind　a　few　metres　above　the　churned　soil。　He　was　still　tall；　and　powerfully　made；　but　the　aura　that　shone
from　him　was　more　sickly　green　than　the　gold　I　remembered。
Unhealthy　bulging　veins　corded　his　body；　and　the　nub…horns　on　his　brow　had　grown　into　sho