The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第54部分

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'No；　you　don't　know　what　I　mean。　You　have　the　determination；　I　know；　the　ambition；　I　know　that　too　…　you　have　the　knowledge；　we
assume；　and　the　weapons　too；　we　hope　…　but　unless　your　mind　is　prepared；　you　will　perish。　Instantly；　and　no　ward　or　staff　or　blade　or
rune　will　save　you。'
'You　sound　like…　you　care　if　I　lose。'
'Do　I？　Then　consider　this；　Gregor　Eisenhom。　You　may　deem　me　a　monster　beneath　contempt；　but　if　I　do　care；　what　does　that　say　about
me？　Or　you？'
'Goodbye；　Pontius　Glaw；'　I　said；　and　closed　the　cell　hatches　behind　me　for　the　last　time。
I　WILL　RECORD　this　thought　now；　because　I　feel　I　must。　For　all　that　Pontius　Glaw　was…　and　for　all　that　came　later；　I　cannot　shake　my
bond　to　him；　though　I　try。　There；　in　the　cell　on　Cinchare；　and　a　century　before　in　the　dim　hold　of　the　Essene；　we　had　spoken　together
for　hundreds　of　hours。　I　had　no　doubt　that　he　was　an　unforgivably　evil　thing；　and　that　he　would　have　killed　me　in　a　second　during
those　times　had　he　been　allowed　the　chance。　But　he　was　a　being　of　extraordinary　intellect；　wit　and　learning。　Admirable　in　so　many；
strange　ways。　But　for　that　tore；　Aaa's　tore；　back　on　that　spring　day　on　Quenthus；　his　life　may　have　been　different。
And　if　it　had　been　different；　and　we　had　met；　we　would　have　been　the　greatest　of　friends。
WE　HAD　STAYED　on　Cinchare　for　three　months。　Too　long；　in　my　opinion；　but　there　had　been　no　way　to　speed　the　preparatory　work。
We　celebrated　Candlemas　in　the　little　chapel　of　the　Ministorum　off　the　plaza；　lighting　candles　to　welcome　the　new　Imperial　year；　and
lighting　others　to　commemorate　the　town's　dead。　Aemos　and　Bequin　read　the　lessons；　for　all　of　the　Ecclesiarchs　were　amongst　the
remembered　dead。　Bure　and　his　tech…adepts　worshipped　with　us；　and　he　hovered　to　the　choir　rail　under　the　great　statue　of　the　God…
Emperor　to　lead　us　in　the　devotional　prayers。
I　was　fretful　and　edgy。　Partly　because　I　was　anxious　to　get　underway　now；　but　also　because　of　the　lore　in　my　head；　the　mysteries　to
which　Glaw　had　introduced　me。　So　much；　so　much　of　it　dark。　I　knew　I　was　a　changed　man；　and　that　change　was　permanent。
But　I　considered　that　a　year　before　…　just　a　year；　though　it　felt　much；　much　longer　…　I　had　been　a　helpless　prisoner　in　the　bleak
Carnificina；　and　Candlemas　had　passed　me　by　before　I　had　realised　it。
I　was　not　that　man　any　more　either；　and　that　change　had　been　nothing　to　do　with　Pontius　Glaw's　whispered　secrets。　For　all　the
darkness　swilling　in　my　head；　it　was　better　to　be　here；　strong　and　ready；　fortified；　in　the　company　of　friends　and　allies。
There　was　no　choirmaster　to　play　the　organ；　so　Medea　had　brought　her　father's　Glavian　lyre；　and　played　the　Holy　Triumph　of　the
Golden　Throne　so　that　we　could　all　sing。
THAT　NIGHT；　WE　feasted　in　the　refectory　of　the　Cult　Mechanicus　to　honour　the　start　of　341。M41。　Maxilla；　who　remained　on　duty
aboard　the　Essene；　sent　a　banquet　to　us　on　a　shuttle；　along　with　servitors　to　wait　upon　us。　One　of　them　reported　that　a　vast　storm　of
meteors　had　swarmed　across　the　sky　at　the　stroke　of　midnight；　lighting　the　night　side　of　Cinchare　with　their　fires。　Nayl　growled　that
this　was　a　bad　omen；　but　Inshabel　insisted　it　was　a　good　one。
I　suppose　it　rather　depended　which　part　of　the　vast　spread　of　the　Imperium　you　came　from。
THE　OTHERS　SPENT　the　next　two　days　packing　up　and　making　ready　to　leave；　but　Aemos　and　I　attended　the　dedication　ceremony　in　the
cimeliarch　of　the　Adeptus　Mechanicus　annex。
Machine　Cult　servitors　chanted　in　a　modulated　binary　code　and　beat　upon　kettledrums。　Magos　Bure　was　clad　in　his　orange　robes　with
a　white　stole　over　his　shoulders。
He　blessed　the　weapons　he　had　made　in　turn；　taking　one　then　the　other　from　the　two　tech…adepts　who　stood　in　attendance。
Barbarisater；　the　pentagrammatic　power　sword；　lifted　to　the　light　that　speared　down　from　the　eyes　of　the　Machine　God's　altar。　Then
the　runestaff；　Bure's　masterpiece。
He　had　fashioned　a　cap…piece　for　the　rune…etched　steel　pole　out　of　elec…trum　in　the　form　of　a　sun…flare　corona。　In　the　centre　of　it　was　a
human　skull；　marked　with　the　thirteenth　sign　of　castigation。　The　skull　was　the　lodestone；　carved　by　Bure　himself　into　a　perfect
facsimile　of　my　own　skull；　as　measured　by　radiative　scans。　He　had　tried　and　rejected　over　twenty　different　tele…empathic　crystals
before　finding　one　he　trusted　would　be　up　to　the　task。
'It's　beautiful；'　I　said；　taking　it　from　him。　'What　crystal　did　you　use　in　the　end？'
'What　else？'　he　said。　'I　carved　that　copy　of　your　skull　from　the　Lith　itself！'
HE　CAME　TO　see　us　off；　to　the　docking　barn　where　the　gun…cutter　had　sat　for　so　long。　Nayl　and　Fischig　were　carrying　the　last　things
aboard。　We　had　broken　astropathic　silence　at　last　the　night　before；　and　informed　Imperial　Allied；　Ortog　Promethium；　the　Adeptus
Mechanicus　and　the　Imperial　authorities　of　the　fate　that　had　befallen　Cinchare　minehead。　We　would　be　long　gone　before　any　of　them
arrived　to　begin　recovery　work。
Bure　said　farewell　to　Aemos；　who　shuffled　away　to　the　cutter。
'There's　nothing　adequate　I　can　say；'　I　told　the　magos。
'Nor　I　to　you；　Eisenhorn。　What　of…　the　inmate？'
'I'd　like　you　to　do　what　I　asked　you。　Give　him　mobility　at　least。　But　nothing　more。　He　must　remain　a　prisoner；　now　and　always。'
'Very　well。　I　expect　to　hear　all　about　your　victory；　Eisenhorn。　I　will　be　waiting。'
'May　the　Holy　Machine　God　and　the　Emperor　himself　protect　your　systems；　Geard。'
'Thank　you；'　he　said。　Then　he　added　something　that　quite　took　me　aback；　given　his　total　belief　and　reliance　on　technology。
'Good　luck。'
I　walked　to　the　cutter。　He　watched　me　for　a　moment；　then　disappeared；　closing　the　inner　hatch　after　him。
That　was　the　last　time　I　ever　saw　him。
FROM　CINCHARE；　THE　Essene　ran　back；　fast　and　impatient；　into　the　great　territories　of　the　Segmentum　Obscurus；　a　three　month　voyage
that　we　broke　twice。

At　Ymshalus；　we　stopped　to　transmit　the　prepared　communiques；　all　twenty　of　them。　Inshabel　and　Fischig　left　us　too　at　that　point；
Inshabel　to　secure　passage　to　Elvara　Cardinal　to　begin　his　work　there；　and　Fischig　for　the　long　haul　back　to　Cadia。　It　would　be　months；
if　not　years；　before　we　saw　them　again。　That　was　a　sorrowful　farewell。
At　Palobara；　that　crossroads　on　the　border；　busy　with　trading　vessels　and　obscura　caravans　guarded　by　mercenary　gunships；　we
stopped　and　transmitted　the　carta　declaration。　There　was　no　going　back　now。　Here；　I　parted　company　os；
all　of　whom　were　heading　back　to　the　Helican　subsector　by　a　variety　of　means。　Bequin's　goal　was　Messina；　and　Aemos；　with　Nayl　to
watch　over　him；　was　bound　for　Gudrun。　Another　hard　parting。
THE　ESSENE　CONTINUED　on　for　Orbul　Infanta。　This　was　now　a　lonely；　waiting　time。　Each　night；　the　remains　of　my　company　gathered
in　Maxilla's　dining　room　and　ate　together：　myself；　Medea；　Maxilla　and　Ungish。　Ungish　was　no　company；　and　even　Medea　and　Maxilla
had　lost　their　sparkle。　They　missed　the　others；　and　I　think　they　knew　how　dark　and　tough　the　time　ahead　would　be。
I　spent　my　days　reading　in　the　cabin　library　of　the　cutter；　or　playing　regicide　with　Medea。　I　practised　with　Barbarisater　in　the　hold
spaces；　slowly　mastering　the　tricks　of　its　weight　and　balance。　I　would　never　match　a　Carthae…born　master；　but　I　had　always　been　good
enough　with　a　sword。　Barbarisater　was　an　extraordinary　piece。　I　came　to　know　it　and　it　came　to　know　me。　Within　a　week；　it　was
responding　to　my　will；　channelling　it　so　hard　that　the　rune　marks　glowed　with　manifesting　psychic　power。　It　had　a　will　of　its　own；　and
once　it　was　in　my　hands；　ready；　swinging；　it　was　difficult　to　stop　it　pulling　and　slicing　where　it　pleased。　It　hungered　for　blood…　or　if
not　blood；　then　at　least　the　joy　of　battle。　On　two　separate　occasions；　Medea　came　into　the　hold　to　see　if　I　was　bored　enough　for　another
round　of　regicide；　and　I　had　to　restrain　the　steel　from　lunging　at　her。
Its　sheer　length　was　a　problem：　I　had　never　used　a　blade　so　long。　I　worried　that　I　would　do　my　own　extremities　harm。　But　practice
gave　me　the　gift　of　it：　long…armed；　flowing　moves；　sweeping　strokes；　a　tight　field　of　severing。　Within　a　fortnight；　I　had　mastered　the
knack　of　spinning　it　over　in　my　hand；　my　open　palm　and　the　pommel　circling　around　each　other　like　the　discs　of　a　gyroscope。　I　was
proud　of　that　move。　I　think　Barbarisater　taught　it　to　me。
I　worked　with　the　rune　staff　too；　to　get　used　to　its　feel　and　balance。　Though　my　aim　was　appalling；　especially　over　distances　further
than　three　or　four　metres；　I　became　able　to　channel　my　will；　through　my　hands；　into　its　haft　and　then　project　it　from　the　crystal　skull　in
the　form　of　electrical　bolts　that　dented　deck　plating。
There　was；　of　course；　no　way　I　could　test　it　for　its　primary　use。
WE　REACHED　THE　shrine　world　of　Orbul　Infanta　at　the　end　of　the　twelfth　week。　I　had　three　tasks　to　perform　here；　and　the　first　was　the
consecration　of　the　sword　and　the　staff。
With　Ungish　and　Medea；　I　travelled　down　to　the　surface　in　one　of　the　Essene's　unremarkable　little　launches　rather　than　the　gun…cutter。
We　went　to　Ezropolis；　one　of　Orbul　Infanta's　ten　thousand　shrine　cities；　in　the　baking　heartland　of　the　western　continent。
Orbul　Infanta　is　an　Ecclesiarchy　governed　world；　famously　blessed　with　a　myriad　shrines；　each　one　dedicated　to　a　different　Imperia