Dark Disciple(科幻战争)-第16部分

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Polio　looked　back　through　the　swirling　snow。
Another　man　was　down；　his　head　ripped　from　his　shoulders；　and　the　captain　was　backing　away
from　the　daemonic　beast　stalking　towards　him。　His　pistol　boomed；　but　the　beast　swayed　its　head　to
the　side　with　preternatural　speed；　and　the　shot　hissed　past　its　face。
The　captain　risked　a　glance　behind　him；　and　his　eyes　locked　onto　the　guildmaster’s。
“Go！”　shouted　the　captain；　though　his　voice　was　lost　in　the　roaring　wind。
“Watch　out！”　roared　Polio　at　the　same　time；　for　the　beast　had　sprung　forwards　as　soon　as　the
captain　had　taken　his　eyes　off　it。
Leto　scrambled　past　his　master；　clambering　up　the　ramp　into　the　interior　of　the　shuttle；　but　Polio
was　locked　in　place；　staring　in　horror　at　the　daemon　as　it　leapt　at　the　captain　of　his　guard。
The　soldier　staggered　backwards　and　pumped　three　shots　into　the　daemon　as　it　bore　down　on
him。　The　first　shots　hit　the　monster　in　the　chest　and　the　gorget；　ricocheting　uselessly　off　its　bloodred
armour；　but　the　third　shot　struck　it　in　the　cheek；　shattering　bone。
It　fell　with　a　roar　of　anger　before　the　captain；　and　the　soldier　levelled　his　pistol　at　the　back　of　its
horned　head。　Before　he　could　squeeze　the　trigger；　the　beast　was　up　and　moving；　and　one　of　its
immense　clawed　hands　closed　around　the　captain’s　arm。　The　pistol　boomed；　but　its　aim　had　been
skewed；　and　the　bullet　glanced　off　the　beast’s　skull。
The　captain　screamed　in　pain　and　fell　to　his　knees　as　the　bones　in　his　arm　were　shattered；　and　the
beast　loomed　over　him；　its　visage　twisted　in　fury。　Blood　dripped　from　its　wounds；　bubbling　and
hissing　as　it　struck　the　snow。
Opening　its　mouth　impossibly　wide；　it　lunged　down；　its　jaws　clamping　around　either　side　of　the
captain’s　head。
His　eyes　wide　with　terror；　Polio　staggered　backwards。　His　movements　attracted　the　attention　of
the　beast；　and　it　swung　its　burning　gaze　towards　him；　the　captain’s　head　still　locked　in　its　jaws。　It
clamped　its　mouth　shut；　and　the　soldier’s　head　cracked　like　a　nut　in　vice。
It　dropped　its　lifeless　prey　to　the　ground　and　leapt　towards　Polio；　closing　the　distance　with
shocking　swiftness；　bounding　towards　him　on　all　fours　like　an　ape。　Turning；　Polio　ran。
The　engines　of　the　Aquila　lander　were　roaring；　and　for　a　moment　he　thought　he　would　make　it。
He　saw　Leto　at　the　top　of　the　ramp；　frantically　urging　him　on　with　beckoning　waves　of　his　hands；
and　he　scrambled　up　the　ramp　into　the　shuttle。
A　stink　akin　to　rotting　meat　and　the　acrid　stench　of　electricity　reached　his　nostrils；　and　a　hand
close　around　the　back　of　his　head。　With　a　jerk；　he　was　hurled　backwards；　skidding　down　the　ramp　to
fall　in　a　crumpled　heap　at　its　base。
One　of　his　arms　was　broken；　and　he　cried　out　as　splinters　of　bone　grated　against　each　other。　He
saw　Leto　at　the　top　of　the　ramp　quaking　before　the　immense　daemon　just　before　the　adjutant　was
ripped　in　two　by　the　beast。
Polio　tried　to　rise　to　his　feet；　the　muscles　and　tendons　of　his　back　protesting；　but　he　fell　in　a
crumpled　heap　once　more　in　the　blood…splattered　snow。
The　daemon　turned　back　towards　him　and　stalked　down　the　ramp；　and　Polio　scrambled　back
away　from　the　monster；　the　heels　of　his　boots　slipping　in　the　ice　and　snow。
Burias…Drak’shal　felt　the　terror　of　the　Imperial　official　wash　over　him　like　an　intoxicating　wave；　and
he　relished　the　sensation。　He　wanted　to　kill　the　man；　slowly　and　excruciatingly；　but　the　rational　side
of　his　mind　knew　that　such　a　thing　would　anger　Marduk；　for　his　order　had　been　clear。
He　grinned　as　the　man　scrambled　back　away　from　him；　a　pathetic　and　futile　attempt　to　escape。
With　sheer　force　of　will；　he　pushed　Drak’shal　back；　and　his　features　were　once　again　his　own；
pristine　and　unmarred；　the　bullet　wound　on　his　cheek　already　healed。　Blood　caked　his　mouth　and
chin；　and　he　smiled　at　the　man　as　he　stepped　towards　him。
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The　engines　of　the　shuttle　roared　behind　him　and　the　ramp　began　to　close；　and　Burias　swung　his
head　around；　Drak’shal　instantly　rearing　within　him　once　more。
“Let　none　escape；”　Marduk　had　ordered。
Burias…Drak’shal　turned　and　leapt　onto　the　shuttle；　his　talons　biting　deep　into　the　reinforced　hull。
He　hauled　himself　hand　over　hand　onto　its　top；　and　bounded　across　its　fuselage　until　he　was
positioned　above　the　cockpit。
The　shuttle　began　to　lift　just　as　the　pilot　registered　the　shadow　looming　above　him；　and　Burias…
Drak’shal　punched　his　fist　through　the　glass；　grabbing　the　man　around　his　throat。　With　one　swift
motion　he　ripped　the　man’s　throat　away。
The　shuttle　tilted　suddenly　to　the　side；　its　landing　gear　scraping　against　rock　as　the　dying　pilot
fell　across　the　controls。　Burias…Drak’shal　bounded　across　the　top　of　the　shuttle　as　it　slid　over　the
edge　of　the　landing　pad；　its　engines　sending　it　into　a　death　spin。
He　hurled　himself　across　the　growing　gap　and　landed　in　a　crouch　as　the　shuttle　slammed　into　the
body　of　the　aquila　eagle…structure　thirty　metres　below；　and　empted　into　a　ball　of　fire。
He　shook　his　head　as　he　saw　the　wounded　Imperial　commander　frantically　punching　a　code　into
the　reinforced　door　that　led　back　into　the　building；　and　bounded　after　the　man。
The　commander　was　slamming　the　door　when　Burias…Drak’shal　reached　it；　and　he　smashed　it
open　with　the　palm　of　his　hand。
The　man；　all　hope　of　escape　lost；　collapsed　on　the　floor　of　the　office；　staring　up　fearfully　at　him。
“Emperor　curse　you；”　breathed　the　terrified　man。
“Too　late　for　that；”　remarked　Burias；　slamming　the　door　closed　behind　him。
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CHAPTER　SIX
Like　a　slowly　rolling　fortress　of　steel；　the　ice　crawler　moved　across　the　ice　flow；　unaffected　by　the
gale　force　winds　ripping　across　the　desolate　landscape。　Temperature　gauges　read　that　it　was　minus
forty　standard；　though　with　wind　chill　it　was　closer　to　minus　seventy。　Banks　of　spotlights　lit　up　the
ice　directly　in　front　of　the　colossal　vehicle。　Fog　rose　from　the　moon’s　surface　and　the　wind　sent
eddies　of　snow　and　ice　particles　ripping　across　the　flows；　rendering　visibility　almost　non…existent。
The　crawler　was　immense；　over　fifty　metres　long　and　almost　twenty　metres　high。　Its　wedgeshaped
hull　sat　upon　eight　sets　of　tracks；　each　more　than　five　metres　wide　and　powered　by　massive
engines。
High　up　within　the　control　booth　of　the　crawler；　Foreman　Primaris　Solon　Marcabus　reclined　on
his　well…worn　padded　seat；　his　heavy　boots　up　on　the　dash。　He　sucked　in　a　long　drag　on　his　lho　stick
and　closed　his　eyes。
“I’ve　decided　I　don’t　much　like　people；”　Cholos　said；　from　the　steering　rig。　“Too　much　damn
trouble。　I’ll　take　transporting　ore　yields　over　people　any　day。”
Solon　grunted　in　response；　exhaling　a　cloud　of　smoke。　The　expansive　cargo　holds　below　were
filled　to　the　brim　with　desperate　evacuees。　Perdus　Skylla　was　being　abandoned　in　the　face　of
imminent　xenos　invasion；　and　it　had　fallen　to　the　crews　of　the　ice　crawlers　to　aid　in　the　evacuation。
In　return；　they　would　receive　double　pay　for　this　ran。　Small　comfort；　thought　Solon；　if　they　didn’t
manage　to　secure　a　berth　off…world。
The　cabin　was　small　and　stuffy；　and　the　stink　of　Solon’s　ashtray；　brimming　with　lho　stubs；　was
strong。　He　was　jolted　back　and　forth　as　the　crawler　continued　to　make　its　way　through　the　darkness；
but　he　was　well　used　to　that。　Rosary　beads　hung　above　Cholos；　and　they　swung　back　and　forth
wildly　as　the　crawler　drove　slowly　over　an　embankment。
“Guilders；”　spat　Cholos　with　a　shake　of　his　head；　“think　they　are　so　much　better　than　us。　Treat
us　like　shit　all　these　years；　but　who　is　it　that　comes　to　bail　them　out？　Us。　And　do　we　get　a　word　of
thanks？　Nope。　Just　complaints。　“It’s　too　cold；　it’s　too　hot；　there’s　not　enough　room；　the　water　tastes
funny’。　You’d　think　the　bastards　would　be　thankful。　Makes　me　sick。”
Solon　grunted　again。
“That　sergeant；　Folches；　is　the　worst　of　’em；”　said　Cholos。　“Left　those　people　back　there　to　die。
That　is　one　cold　son　of　a　bitch。”
“Nice　to　hear　I　made　an　impression；”　said　a　voice。
Cholos　visibly　jumped。　Solon　sighed　and　slowly　opened　his　eyes。　He　dropped　his　feet　from　the
console　dash　and　spun　his　chair　around　towards　the　door　to　the　cabin；　though　he　remained　slouched。
He　blew　out　a　puff　of　smoke。
Sergeant　Folches　stood　in　the　doorway；　big　and　imposing　in　his　black　and　white　Interdiction
body　plate。　He　had　removed　his　helmet；　and　his　thick…featured　face　glared　down　at　Solon。
“This　is　a　restricted　area；　sergeant。　Rig　personnel　only；”　said　Solon。　“Be　so　kind　as　to　get　the　hell
out。”
“How　long　till　we　get　to　the　Phorcys　spaceport？”　asked　Folches。
“In　this　storm？　Two　and　a　half　days；　minimum；”　said　Solon。　The　sergeant　swore。
“The　storm　won’t　lift　before　then？”　he　asked。
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“You　haven’t　spent　much　time　on　the　surface；　have　you？”　asked　Solon；　taking　another　drag　on
his　lho　stick。
“What　the　hell　does　that　have　to　do　with　anything？”
“Once　a　storm　like　this　has　set　in；　it　might　not　clear　for　a　month；　maybe　two；”　said　Solon；
stubbing　out　his　lho　stick。
“You　can’t　make　this　heap　of　crap　go　any　faster？”
“No；　sergeant；　I　can’t。”
Folches　swore　and　rubbed　a　hand　across　his　head。
“Why　don’t　you　and　your　boys　just　settle　down　and　enjoy　the　ride；”　he　said；　“and　try　to　stop　the
guilders　killing　each　other。　They’re　only　women　and　children；　right？”
“Boss；”　said　Cholos。　Solon　felt　the　crawler　begin　to　slow；　but　he　didn’t　take　his　eyes　of　the
sergeant。
“You　ought　to　watch　your　tongue；　you　whoreson　bastard；”　said　Folches；　putting　one　hand　on　the
autopistol　bolstered　prominently　at　his　hip。
“Easy；　big　fella；”　said　Solon。　“All　I’m　saying　is　that　we　are　moving　as　quick　as　we　can；　and　you
coming　up　here　to　throw　your　weight　around　ain’t　gonna　make　us　go　any　faster。”
Folches　let　out　a　tense　breath　and　took　his　hand　off　his　gun。
“What’s　the　problem；　anyway？”　asked　Solon。　“Three　days　and　we’ll　be　off　this　moon。”
“Something　hit　the　access　tunnels　leading　from　Antithon　guild　to　the　spaceport。”
Solon　frowned。
“Four　demi…legions　were　gone；　like　that；”　said　the　sergeant；　clicking　his　fingers。　“And　Emperor
knows　how　many　guilders。”
“Four　demi…legions？”
“Four　hundred　soldiers。　The　enemy　is　not　on　its　way　to　Perdus　Skylla；”　said　the　sergeant。　“It　is
already　here。”　Solon　bit　his　lip。
“Boss；”　said　Cholos；　breaking　the　silence。
“What？”　asked　Solon　in　exasperation；　turning　to　face　his　second　in　command。
“You　better　take　a　look　at　this。”
Solon　spun　his　chair　around；　turning　his　back　on　the　sergeant；　and　peered　out　of　the　small；　iceencased
cabin　window。
The　wind　was　whipping　across　the　landscape　at　over　a　hundred　kilometres　an　hour；　and　virtually
nothing　could　be　seen　except　the　glare　of　the　crawler’s　spotlight　reflected　back　at　them　by　the　snow
and　ice　in　the　air。
“I　don’t　see　a　damned　thing；　Cholos。”
Sergeant　Folches　leant　down　at　Solon’s　side；　looking　out　into　the　storm；　and　Solon　felt　his
irritation　rise。
“Damn　it　Cholos；　what　am　I　looking　at？”
“Wait　for　the　wind　to　drop；”　said　Cholos。
He　slowed　the　crawler　further　and　the　three　men　looked　intently　out　into　the　storm。　At　last　the
wind　fell　momentarily　and　Solon　could　see　a　dark；　shadowy　shape　up　ahead。　It　was　another　crawler；
motionless　and　dark。　Then　it　was　hidden　as　the　winds　picked　up　again　with　a　vengeance。
“That’s　Markham’s　r