The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第46部分

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roved　us　in。
It　was　a　prospecting　pod；　similar　to　ours；　but　bearing　the　crest　of　Ortog　Promethium。　It　had　been　crushed　and　split　like　an　old　can；　the
stanchions　of　its　cabin　protruding　from　the　metal　hull　like　ribs。
'Hell…'　Medea　murmured。
'Mining's　a　dangerous　job；'　I　said。
'That's　recent；'　Aemos　said；　appearing　at　our　shoulders。　'Look　at　the　tephra。'
'The　what？'　asked　Medea。
'It's　a　generic　term　for　clastic　materials。　The　dust　and　shale　bed　the　wreck's　lying　on。　Move　the　lamp　round。　There。　The　tephra's
yellowish…white　gypnate　all　around；　but　it's　scorched　and　fused　under　the　wreck。　Mineral　smoke　from　the　fumaroles　we　passed　just
now　vent　back　down　here　and　cover　everything　with　oxidised　dust。　I'd　wager　if　it's　been　there　more　than　a　month；　the　powder　would
have　overlaid　the　scorching…　and　coated　the　wreck。
'Pop　the　hatch；'　I　said。
THE　SUBTERRANEAN　ATMOSPHERE　seemed　scalding　hot　and　I　began　to　sweat　freely　the　moment　I　jumped　down　from　the　sill。　I　could
hear　nothing　except　my　breath　rasping　inside　my　rebreather　mask。　I　trudged　round　to　the　front　of　the　hovering　pod　into　the　cones　of　its
lights；　and　saw　Aemos　and　Medea　in　the　lit　cockpit；　both　hidden　behind　rebreather　masks　of　their　own。
I　waved　once　and　crunched　off　over　the　dusty　sill；　my　bootcaps　catching　the　occasional　geode　which　scattered　and　flashed　in　the　light。
There　was　no　mistaking　the　blast　holes　in　the　wreck's　hull。　Sustained　fire　from　a　multi…laser　had　split　the　pod　wide　open。　I　shone　my
hand　torch　in　through　the　rents　and　saw　a　blackened　cabin　space；　burned　out。
The　three　crew　members　were　still　in　there；　at　their　posts；　reduced　to　grimacing　mummies　by　the　acidic　air；　and　by　the　hundreds　of
glistening　white　worms　that　writhed　and　burrowed　as　my　light　hit　them。　It　figured　that　with　its　hot；　wet；　gaseous　interior；　Cinchare　was
a　far　from　dead　world。
More　troglobyte　things　scurried　and　squirmed　around　my　feet。　Long…legged　metallic　beetles　and　inflated；　jelly…like　molluscs；　all　drawn
to　this　unexpected　source　of　rich　nutrients。
Something　moved　beside　me　and　slammed　into　my　left　hip。　I　fell　hard　against　the　broken　hull；　cursing　that　I　hadn't　been　wearing　my
motion　tracker。　It　came　in　again；　and　this　time　I　felt　a　sharp　pain　in　my　left　thigh。　I　kicked　out　with　a　mask…muffled　curse。
It　was　about　the　size　of　a　large　dog；　but　longer　and　lower；　moving　on　lean　hind　limbs。　Its　skin　was　nearly　silver；　and　its　eye…less　head
was　just　a　vast　set　of　jaws　filled　with　hundreds　of　transparent　fangs。　All　around　the　maw；　long　sensory　bristles　and　tendrils　twitched
and　rippled。
It　lunged　again；　its　thin；　stiff　tail　raised　high　as　a　counterbalance。　This　thing；　I　guessed；　was　top　of　the　food　chain　in　Cinchare's
lightless　cavities。　Too　big　to　force　its　way　inside　the　wreck　to　get　at　the　corpses；　it　had　been　lurking　outside；　feeding　on　the　carrion
worms　and　molluscs　that　had　congregated　on　the　crash。
With　a　twist　of　its　head；　it　had　a　good　grip　on　my　left　ankle。　I　could　feel　the　tips　of　its　teeth　biting　through　the　heavy　leather　of　my
boot。
I　managed　to　tug　my　shotgun　from　the　scabbard　on　my　back　and　shoot　it　through　the　torso　at　point　black　range。　Viscous　tissues　and
filmy　flesh　scattered　in　all　directions　and　the　thing　flopped　over。　By　the　time　I　had　prized　its　jaws　off　my　boot　with　my　knife；　the
carrion…eaters　had　begun　to　swarm　over　it　and　feed。
WE　MOVED　OFF　again；　down　a　gour…lined　spur　and　into　a　cavern　breathtak…ingly　encrusted　with　glass…silk　and　billions　of　cavepearls。

'There's　been　fighting　down　here；'　I　told　Aemos　and　Medea；　raising　my　voice　to　be　heard　over　the　re…cycling　cabin　air　as　we　pumped
the　last　of　the　coarse　Cinchare　gas…soup　out。
'Who's　fighting　who？'
I　shrugged；　and　sat　back　to　tug　one　of　the　predator's　broken　fangs　out　of　my　boot　leather。
'Well；'　said　Aemos；　'You'll　be　interested　to　know　that　the　cavern　with　the　wreck　in　it　matched　one　of　the　spectroscope　traces　from　the
Mechanicus　transmissions　exactly。'
'How　long　ago？'
'About　two　weeks。'
'So…　Bure　could　have　been　the　one　who　did　the　shooting。'
'Bure…　or　whoever's　sending　transmissions　back　to　the　annex。'
'But　why　would　he　take　out　a　prospector　pod？'　I　wondered　aloud。
'Rather　depends　on　what　the　prospector　pod　was　trying　to　do　to　him；'　said　Medea。
Aemos　raised　his　tufty　eyebrows。　'Most　perturbatory。'
ANOTHER　THREE　HOURS；　another　two　kilometres　down。　It　was　damn　hot；　and　the　air　outside　was　thick　with　venting　steams　and　gases。
Fumaroles；　some　large；　some　in　scabby　clusters；　belched　black　smoke　into　the　caves；　riddling　some　areas　like　honeycomb。　Several
caverns　and　domepits　were　home　to　luminous　acidic　lakes；　where　the　geothermals　steadily　simmered　the　water。　Gorges　and　the
occasional　pitch　showed　flares　of　red　light　from　lava　rivers　and　asthenospheric　cauldrons　of　molten　rock。
We　no　longer　had　to　rely　on　the　lamps。　The　cave　systems　were　lit　by　streams　of　glowing　magma；　flaming　lakes　of　pitch　and
promethium　and　thick；　sticky　curtains　and　rafts　of　bio…luminescent　fungi　that　thrived　in　the　heated　ducts。　The　pod's　air…scrubbers　were
no　longer　able　to　remove　the　scent　of　sulphur　from　the　cabin　air；　and　the　cooling　system　was　inadequate。　We　were　all　sweating；　and　so
were　the　interior　walls　of　the　cabin。　Condensation　dribbled　down　the　bare　metal　of　the　hull's　inner　skin。
'Dead　stop；　please；'　Aemos　said。
Medea　cut　the　thrusters　and　let　us　coast　slowly　over　a　seething　lake　of　lava　that　radiated　a　glare　of　almost　neon　brilliance　from　beneath
its　blackened　crust。
Aemos　checked　the　chart　against　the　spectroscope　readings　that　the　min…eralogicae　assayer　was　sending　to　a　small　repeater　screen　in
the　cabin　bay。
'This　is　it。　The　source　location　for　the　last　transmission。'
'You're　sure？'　I　asked。
He　gave　me　a　withering　look。　'Of　course。'
'Swing　us　around；　slowly；'　I　told　Medea。　We　craned　to　look　out　of　the　pod's　front　ports；　playing　the　lamp　array　up　and　down　to　make
sense　of　the　stark　shadows　in　the　cavern　walls。
'What　are　those？　Tube　tunnels？'
'Auspex　says　they　pinch　out　in　a　few　hundred　metres。　God…Emperor；　it　looks　pretty　primordial　out　there！'　Medea　wiped　a　trickle　of
perspiration　out　of　her　eyes。
'What's　that　the　lights　are　catching　there？'
'Aemos　peered　to　where　I　was　pointing。　Amygdules；'　he　said。　'Cavities　filled　with　quartzes　or　other　secondary　minerals。'
'Okay；'　said　Medea；　unscrewing　the　stopper　of　a　water…flask。　'Seeing　as　how　you　know　everything…　what's　that？'
'Well；　I…　most　perturbatory。'
It　was　a　hole；　perfectly　circular；　thirty　metres　in　diameter；　cut　into　the　far　rock　wall。
'Edge　closer；'　I　said。　'That's　not　a　natural　formation。　It's　too…　precise。'
'What　the　hell　made　a　hole　like　that？'　Medea　murmured；　nudging　us　in。
'An　industrial　mining　drill　could—'
'This　far　down？　This　far　from　any　mine　infrastructure？'　I　cut　Aemos　short。　'Look　at　this　place。　Only　sealed　units　like　this　pod　can
function　at　this　depth。'
'Barely；'　Medea　commented；　ominously。　She　was　keeping　a　weather　eye　on　the　hull…integrity　read…out。　Amber　runes　were　twitching　on
and　off。
'It's　deep；'　I　said。　I　looked　at　the　display　for　the　forward　scanners。　'Goes　off　as　far　as　we　can　read　and　maintains　its　shape　and　size。'
'But　it's　cut　sheer　through　igneous　rock…　through　the　side　of　a　forty　kilometre　square　batholyth！　That's　solid　anthragate！'　There　was　a
note　of　confusion　in　Aemos's　frail　old　voice。
'I've　got　tremors；'　said　Medea　suddenly。　The　needles　on　the　rolling　seismograph　had　been　scratching　away　for　a　good　hour　or　more；
such　was　the　background　instability　this　deep　down。　But　now　they　were　skritching　back　and　forth　wildly。
'There's　a　pattern　to　them；'　Aemos　said。　'That's　not　tectonic。　That's　too　regular…　mechanical　almost。'
I　paused　for　a　moment；　considering　our　options。　'Take　us　into　the　shaft；'　I　said。
Medea　looked　at　me；　as　if　she　was　hoping　she'd　misheard　me。
'Let's　go。'
THE　CUT　SHAFT　was　so　perfectly　circular　it　was　scary。　As　we　sped　down；　we　could　see　that　the　inner　surface　of　the　tube　was　fused　like
flowstone；　with　radiating　patterns　of　furrows　scooped　into　it。
'This　was　plasma…cut；'　said　Aemos。　'And　whatever　cut　it；　left　an　impression　of　its　motivators　in　the　rock　before　it　cooled　and　hardened。'

The　tube　snaked　occasionally；　whilst　maintaining　its　form。　The　bends　were　long　and　slow；　but　Medea　took　them　cautiously。　The
seismograph　was　still　jiggling。
I　took　out　a　holoquill　and　wrote　a　phrase　down　on　the　back　of　a　chart…pad。
'Can　you　convert　this　into　simple　machine　code？'　I　asked　Aemos。
He　looked　at　it。　'Hmmm…　〃Vade　elquum　alatoratha　semptus〃…　you　have　a　good　memory。'
'Can　you　do　it？'
'Of　course。'
'What　is　that？'　asked　Medea。　'Some　kind　of　sorcery？'
'No；'　I　smiled　as　Aemos　got　to　work。　'It's　like　Glossia。　A　private　language；　one　that　hasn't　been　used　in　a　long　time。'
'There；'　said　Aemos。
'Punch　it　into　the　vox…ponder　and　set　it　to　continuous　repeat；'　I　said。
'I　hope　this　works；'　said　Aemos。　'I　hope　you're　right。'
'So　do　I；'　I　said。
Instrumentation　pinged。　'We're　approaching　the　end　of　the　bore…hole！'　Medea　called。　'Another　kilometre；　and　then　we're　out　into　a　huge
cavity！'
'Get　that　signal　going！'　I　urged　my　elderly　savant。
WE　WERE　ON　it　almost　before　we　were　ready。　A　massive　tube　of　machined　metal；　thirty　metres　in　diameter　and　se