The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第64部分

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very；　very　terrible。'
'My　deepest　sympathies　for　your　loss；　lady；'　I　said；　feeling　awkward。
A　houseman；　his　arm　banded　in　black；　had　led　us　into　a　stateroom　off　the　main　hall　where　Lady　Froigre　was　waiting。　The　blinds　were
drawn；　and　mourning　tapers　had　been　lit；　filling　the　air　with　a　feeble　light　and　a　sickly　perfume。　Freyl　Froigre　was　a　stunning　woman
in　her　late　sixties；　her　lush　red　hair；　almost　flame…pink　it　was　so　bright；　pulled　back　and　pinned　down　under　a　veil　coiff　of　jet
scamiscoire。　Her　grief…gown　was　slate　epinchire；　the　sleeves　ending　in　delicate　interwoven　gloves　so　that　not　one　speck　of　her　flesh
was　uncovered。
I　introduced　Alizebeth；　who　murmured　her　condolences；　and　Lady　Froigre　nodded。　Then　she　suddenly　looked　flustered。
'Oh；　my。　Where　are　my　manners？　I　should　have　the　staff　bring　refreshments　for　you　and—'
'Hush；　lady；'　I　said；　taking　her　arm　and　walking　her　down　the　long　room　into　the　soft　shade　of　the　shutters。　'You　have　enough　on　your
mind。　Grief　is　enough。　Tell　me　what　you　know　and　I　will　do　the　rest。'
'You're　a　good　man；　sir。　I　knew　I　could　trust　you。'　She　paused　and　waited　while　her　current　wracks　subsided。
'Aen　died　just　before　midnight　last　night。　A　seizure。　It　was　quick；　the　physician　said。'
'What　else　did　he　say；　lady？'

She　drew　a　data…wand　from　her　sleeve　and　handed　it　to　me。　'It's　all　here。'　I　plucked　out　my　slate　and　plugged　it　in。　The　display　lit　up
with　the　stored　files。
Death　by　tremorous　palpitations　of　the　heart　and　mind。　A　dysfunction　of　the　spirit。　According　the　the　medicae's　report；　Aen　Froigre
had　died　because　of　a　spasm　in　his　anima。
'This　means…'　I　paused；　'…nothing。　Who　is　your　physician？'
'Genorus　Notil　of　Menizerre。　He　has　been　the　family　medicae　since　the　time　of　Aen's　grandfather。'
'His　report　is　rather…　non…specific；　lady。　Could　I　present　the　body　for　a　further　examination？'
'I've　already　done　that；'　she　said　softly。　'The　surgeon　at　Menizerre　General　who　attended　said　the　same。　My　husband　died　of　terror。'
'Terror？'
'Yes；　inquisitor。　Now　tell　me　that　isn't　the　work　of　the　infernal　powers？'
There　had；　she　told　me；　been　a　celebration。　A　Grand　Fete。　Aen's　eldest　son；　Rinton；　had　returned　home　two　weeks　before；　having
mustered　out　of　his　service　in　the　Imperial　Guard。　Rinton　Froigre　had　been　a　captain　in　the　Fiftieth　Gudrunite　and　seen　six　years'
service　in　the　Ophidean　subsector。　Such　was　his　father's　delight　on　his　return；　a　fete　was　called。　A　carnival　feast。　Travelling　players
from　all　around　the　canton　had　attended；　along　with　troupes　of　musicians；　acrobats；　armies　of　stall　holders；　entertainers；　and　hundreds
of　folk　from　the　town。　That　explained　the　litter　and　faded　patches　on　the　lawn。　Tent　pitches。　The　scars　of　marques。
'Had　he　any　enemies？'　I　asked；　pacing　the　shuttered　room。
'None　that　I　know　of。'
'I　would　like　to　review　his　correspondence。　Diaries　too；　if　he　kept　them。'
'I'll　see。　I　don't　believe　he　kept　a　diary；　but　our　rubricator　will　have　a　list　of　correspondence。'
On　the　top　of　the　harpsichord　was　a　framed　portrait；　a　hololith　of　Aen　Froigre；　smiling。
I　picked　it　up　and　studied　it。
'The　last　portrait　of　him；'　she　said。　'Taken　at　the　fete。　My　last　connection　with　him。'
'Where　did　he　die？'
'The　Folly；'　said　Lady　Froigre。　'He　died　in　the　Folly。'
THE　WOODS　WERE　damp　and　dark。　Boughs　creaked　in　the　late　afternoon　wind　and　odd　birdsong　thrilled　from　the　shadows。
The　Folly　was　a　stone　drum　capped　by　a　slate　needle。　Inside；　it　was　bare　and　terribly　musty。　Sand　doves　fluttered　up　in　the　roof　spaces。
Cobwebs　glazed　the　bare　windows。
'This　is　where　I　found　him；'　said　a　voice　from　behind　me。
I　turned。　Rinton　Froigre　stooped　in　under　the　doorframe。　He　was　a　well…made　boy　of　twenty…five；　with　his　mother's　lush　red　hair。　His
eyes　had　a　curious；　hooded　aspect。
'Rinton。'
'Sir；'　he　bowed　slightly。
'Was　he　dead　when　you　found　him？'
'No；　inquisitor。　He　was　laughing　and　talking。　He　liked　to　come　up　here。　He　loved　the　Folly。　I　came　up　to　thank　him　for　the　fete　that　he
had　thrown　in　my　honour。　We　were　talking　together　when　suddenly　he　went　into　convulsions。　Just　minutes　later；　before　I　could
summon　help；　he　was　dead。'
I　didn't　know　Rinton　Froigre　well；　though　his　service　record　was　very　respectable；　and　I　knew　his　father　had　been　proud　of　him。　Aen
had　never　mentioned　any　animosity　from　his　son；　but　in　any　noble　house　there　is　always　the　spectre　of　succession　to　consider。　Rinton
had　been　alone　with　his　father　at　the　time　of　death。　He　was　a　seasoned　soldier；　undoubtedly　no　stranger　to　the　act　of　killing。
I　kept　an　open　mind　…　literally。　Even　without　any　invasive　mental　probing；　it　is　possible　for　a　psionic　of　my　ability　to　sense　surface
thoughts。　There　was　no　flavour　of　deceit　about　Rinton's　person；　though　I　could　feel　carefully　contained　loss；　and　the　tingle　of
trepidation。　Small　wonder；　I　considered。　Uncommon　are　the　citizens　of　the　Imperium　who　do　not　register　anxiety　at　being　quizzed　by
an　inquisitor　of　the　Holy　Ordos。
There　was　no　point　pressing　him　now。　Rinton's　story　might　easily　be　put　to　the　test　with　an　auto…seance；　during　which　psychometric
techniques　would　simply　reveal　the　truth　of　his　father's　last　moments　to　me。
Rinton　walked　me　back　to　the　Hall；　and　left　me　to　my　ponderings　in　Aen's　study。　It　was　as　he　had　left　it；　I　was　told。
The　room　was　half…panelled　and　lined　for　the　most　part　with　glazed　shelves　of　neatly　bound　books　and　data…slates。　Discreet　glowglobes
hovered　around　the　edges　of　the　room　at　head…height；　set　to　a　low　luminosity；　and　a　selection　of　scroll…backed　couches　and
over…stuffed　chairs　were　arranged　in　front　of　the　high…throated　ceramic　fireplace　with　its　wood…burning　fusion　stove。
The　desk；　under　the　diamond…paned　west　windows；　was　a　wide　crescent　of　polished　duralloy　floated　a　metre　off　the　carpet　by　passive
suspensor　pods。　The　desk　was　clean　and　bare。
I　sat　at　it；　depressing　slightly　the　hydraulics　of　the　writing　chair　…　I　was　half　a　head　taller　than　Aen　Froigre。　I　studied　the　mirrorsmooth；
slightly　raked　surface　of　the　desk。　There　was　no　sign　of　any　control　panel；　but　a　gentle　wave　of　my　hand　across　it　woke　up
heat…sensitive　touch…plates　engraved　into　the　duralloy's　finish。　I　touched　a　few；　but　they　needed　Aen's　touch　…　probably　a　combination
of　palmprint　and　genekey　…　to　unlock　them。
That；　or　inquisition…grade　software。　I　unpinned　my　Inquisitorial　rosette；　which　I　had　been　wearing　on　the　sternum　of　a　my　black
leather　coat；　and　slid　open　the　signal　port。　Holding　it　low　over　the　desk；　I　force　fed　the　touch…plates　with　several　magenta…level
security　override　programs。　It　gave　up　the　fight　almost　at　once；　opening　systems　without　even　the　need　for　passwords。

Built　into　the　stylish　desk　…　an　item　of　furniture　that　had　clearly　cost　Aen　a　lot　of　money　…　was　a　fairly　powerful　cogitator；　a　vox…pict
uplink；　a　message　archive；　two　filing　archives；　and　a　master　control　for　the　simple；　limited　electronic　systems　built　into　the　Hall。
Separate　pages　of　each　file　and　message　could　be　displayed　as　a　facsimile　on　the　blotter　plate　and　a　touch　of　a　finger　turned　them　or
put　them　away。　Aen　had　destroyed　all　paper　records。
I　played　with　it　for　some　time；　but　the　most　interesting　thing　I　found　was　a　log　of　invoices　for　services　provided　at　the　fete；　and　a　list
of　the　invitations。　I　copied　both　into　my　own　data…slate。
Alizebeth　and　Gabon　arrived　while　I　was　busy　with　that。　Alizebeth　had　been　interviewing　the　household　staff；　and　Gabon　had　been
out；　walking　the　grounds。
'There　were　over　nine　hundred　guests　here；　sir；'　he　said；　'and　maybe　another　five　hundred　players；　musicians；　entertainers　and　carnival
folk。'
'Where　from？'
'Menizerre；　mostly；'　he　replied。　'Local　entertainers；　a　few　troubadours　and　some　street　tumblers　from　the　biweekly　textile　market。　The
biggest　individual　groups　were　Kalikin's　Company；　an　acclaimed　troupe　of　travelling　actors；　and　Sunsable's　Touring　Fair；　who
provided　the　games　and　rides　and　diversions。'
I　nodded。　Gabon　was　as　thorough　as　usual。　A　short；　spare　man　in　his　one　fifties　with　cropped　black　hair　and　a　bushy　moustache；　he
had　been　with　the　Dorsay　Arbites　for　about　seventy　years　before　retiring　into　private　service。　He　wore　a　simple；　refined　dark　blue　suit
that　had　been　ingeniously　tailored　to　hide　the　fact　that　he　was　wearing　a　handgun　in　a　shoulder　rig。
'What　about　you？'　I　asked　Alizebeth。　She　sat　down　on　one　of　the　couches。
'Nothing　scintillating。　The　staff　seem　genuinely　shocked　and　upset　at　the　death。　They　all　react　with　outrage　at　the　idea　your　friend
might　have　had　any　enemies。'
'It　seems　quite　clear　to　me　that　he　did　have　some；'　I　said。
Alizebeth　reached　into　the　folds　of　her　gown　and　fished　out　a　small；　hard　object。　She　tossed　it　across　onto　the　desk　top　and　it　landed
with　a　tap。
There　it　extended　four；　multi…jointed　limbs　and　scurried　across　onto　my　palm。
I　turned　the　wriggling　poison…snooper　over　and　pressed　the　recessed　stud　on　its　belly。　A　little　ball　of　hololithic　energy　coalesced　above
its　head…mounted　projector　and　I　read　it　as　slowly　scrolled　around　on　its　own　axis。
'Traces　of　Iho；　obscura　and　several　other　class　II　and　III　narcotics　in　the　garden　area　and　the　staff　quarters。　Penshel　seed　traces　found　in
the　stable　block。　More　lho；　as　well　as　lis