The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第11部分

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A　formation　of　twelve　Lightnings　was　swooping　in　low　from　the　south；　coming　down　the　length　of　the　Triumph　parade；　following　the
Avenue　of　the　Victor　Bellum。　Coming　towards　the　Gate。　They　were　in　line　abreast；　the　tips　of　their　forward…swept　wings　almost
touching。　A　display　of　perfect　formation　flying　from　the　Battlefleet's　best　pilots。　Sunlight　glinted　on　their　canopies　and　on　the　raked
double…vanes　of　their　tailplanes。
The　sense　of　foreboding　I　had　felt　now　became　oppressively　real。　It　was　like　heavy　clouds　had　passed　in　front　of　the　sun。
'Olm；　I—'
'Emperor's　mercy！　He's　in　trouble；　look！'　Madorthene　cried。
The　fighters　were　half　a　kilometre　from　the　Gate；　moving　at　a　high　cruising　speed。　The　left　hand　wingman　suddenly　wobbled；
bucked…
…and　veered。
The　flier　directly　inside　of　him　pulled　hard　to　avoid　a　collision；　and　his　starboard　wing　clipped　the　wingtip　of　the　next　Lightning　in
line。　There　was　a　bright　puff　of　impact　debris。
One　by　one；　like　pearls　coming　off　a　necklace；　each　aircraft　was　knocked　out　of　the　formation。　The　once…sleek　line　broke　in　utter
disarray　Madorthene　hurled　me　to　the　ground　as　the　jets　shrieked　overhead；　rattling　the　world　with　their　afterburners。
The　two　that　I　had　seen　strike　each　other　were　spinning　in　the　air；　somersaulting　like　discarded　toys；　splintering　trails　of　metal　scrap
behind　them。　In　the　confusion；　it　seemed　to　me　as　if　several　others　had　also　accidentally　collided。
One　Lightning；　over　ten　tonnes　of　almost　supersonic　metal；　cartwheeled　down　and　went　into　the　crowd　on　the　west　side　of　the
Avenue。　It　bounced　at　least　once；　showering　human　debris　into　the　air。　At　its　final　impact；　it　became　a　massive　fireball　that　belched　up
a　blazing　mushroom　cloud　a　hundred　metres　into　the　air。　Shock　and　berserk　panic　filled　the　crowd。　The　stench　of　flame　and　heat　and
promethium　washed　over　me。
There　was　a　flash　and　the　ground　shook　as　a　second　stricken　Lightning　spiralled　in　under　the　shadow　the　Gate。　Then；　almost
simultaneously；　a　third　and　louder　blast　came　as　a　third　aircraft；　sent　lurching　out　of　control；　sheared　off　a　wing　on　the　top　corner　of
the　Spatian　Gate　itself；　right　above　us；　and　began　tumbling　down；　end　over　end。
In　the　face　of　this　calamitous　accident；　the　soldiers　in　the　Triumph　were　scattering　in　all　directions。　I　dragged　Madorthene　back　in
under　the　arch　as　shattered　chunks　of　the　stricken　aircraft　avalanched　down。
A　catastrophe。　A　terrible；　terrible　catastrophe。
And　it　was　just　beginning。

SIX
DOOM　COMES　TO　THRACIAN。
CHAOS　UNSLIPPED。
HEADSHOT。
EVEN　AT　THAT　stage；　gripped　by　horror　and　outrage；　I　knew　that　a　great　hollow　part　of　me　deep　in　my　soul　could　not；　would　not
believe　that　this　had　simply　been　a　tragic　accident。
There　were　fire　and　explosions　all　around；　mass　panic；　screaming。
And　another　sound。　An　extraordinary　low　moaning；　a　swelling；　surging　susurration　that　I　realised　was　the　sound　two　billion　people
make　when　they　are　panicking　and　in　fear　for　their　lives。
The　crowds　had　spilled　over　onto　the　Avenue；　quite　beyond　the　measure　of　the　arbites　to　contain　them；　fleeing　both　the　dreadful　crash
sites　and　the　fires；　and　also　the　imagined　risk　that　to　stand　still　somehow　invited　more　Imperial　warcraft　to　fall　upon　their　heads。
The　crowd　moved　as　one；　a　fluid　thing；　like　water。　There　was　no　decision　making　process；　no　ringleader。　Mass　instinct　simply
compelled　the　people　who　swamped　the　vast　street；　in　awful；　trampling　tides；　overwhelming　the　ranks　of　the　Triumph；　much　of　which
was　already　breaking　up　in　shocked　dismay。　There　was　no　sound　of　music　any　more；　no　cheering；　no　drums　or　sirens。　Just　a　braying
insanity；　a　world　turned　on　its　head。
I　saw　people　die　in　their　hundreds；　trampled　underfoot　or　crushed　in　the　sheer　press　of　bodies。　In　some　cases；　the　dead　were　so
squeezed　by　their　neighbours；　they　were　carried　along　for　many　metres　before　being　freed　to　slither　to　the　ground。
I　saw　troopers　from　the　retinues；　and　arbites；　firing　into　the　crowd　in　terror　before　they　were　run　down。　Barricades　collapsed。
Standards　swayed　and　toppled。　Walkways　over　the　drain　canals　alongside　the　Avenue　cracked　and　fell　in；　spilling　hundreds　down　into
the　rockcrete　trenches。
I'd　lost　sight　of　Madorthene　in　the　pandemonium。　I　tried　to　push　out　from　the　arch　into　the　sunlight；　but　fleeing　bodies　slammed　into
me。　The　entire　approach　to　the　Spatian　Gate　was　a　mass　of　twisted　wreckage　and　fire　from　the　impact　high　above。　Several　dozen
guardsmen　lay　twisted　and　dead　amid　the　wreckage；　killed　by　falling　metal　and　stone；　their　dress　uniforms　dusted　white　with
powdered　aethercite　or　scorched　by　fire。
Through　the　sea　of　screaming　humanity；　I　could　see　several　of　the　massive　aurochotheres　stampeding　out　of　control；　rearing　up；
shaking　their　riders　from　their　backs；　trampling　into　the　multitude。　Lifeless　bodies　were　tossed　high　into　the　air　by　their　swishing　tails。
I　managed　to　slide　along　the　outer　edge　of　the　gate　until　I　could　look　north；　towards　the　distant　Monument　of　the　Ecclesiarch。　Right
along　the　wide　Avenue；　the　scene　was　repeated。　The　procession　of　the　Triumph　was　overrun　by　the　sheer　numbers　of　the　terrified
public。
There　was　fire　too；　great　plumes　of　it；　rising　from　the　crowd　spaces　on　either　side　of　the　road　in　three　places　and　on　the　Avenue　of　the
Victor　Bellum　itself；　about　seven　hundred　metres　beyond　the　Gate。　It　also　seemed　to　me　that　fire　also　rose　from　other　open　areas
beyond　the　next　spire；　off　the　roadway　into　the　artisans'　quarter。　By　my　estimation；　at　least　five　more　of　the　stricken　Lightnings　had
fallen　from　the　sky；　ripping　into　the　mass　of　the　citizenry　teeming　in　panic　on　the　Avenue。
Soot　and　ash　fogged　the　air。　Distantly；　above　the　milling　nightmare　of　bodies；　I　could　see　the　vast　shapes　of　the　Titans；　turning　on　their
metal　hips；　hesitant；　as　if　utterly　confused。
I　doubt　I　saw　the　other　Lightnings　before　anyone　else。　But　I　was　transfixed。　They　were　all　I　could　see。　There　were　four　more　of　them；
presumably　the　only　survivors　of　the　disastrous　flyby。　They　had　turned；　and　were　sweeping　back　down　the　Avenue。　Their　formation
was　nothing　like　as　precise　or　pretty　as　it　had　been　just　before　the　accident。
But　they　were　much　lower。　And　much　faster。
And　I　knew　what　that　meant；　for　I　had　seen　it　before。
An　attack　run。
Emperor　spare　me；　my　heart　almost　stopped　as　I　saw　the　insane　intention　taking　shape　before　me。
I　screamed　out　something；　but　it　was　futile。　One　voice　against　two　billion。
Streams　of　tracer　rounds　spat　from　the　heavy　cannons　under　their　noses。　Wing…mounted　lascannons　sparkled　soundlessly。
Two　went　low　over　the　crowd；　slaughtering　thousands。　The　other　two　followed　the　Avenue　itself；　raking　the　Great　Triumph。
The　destruction　was　extraordinary；　as　if　invisible；　white…hot　ploughs　had　been　set　into　the　sea　of　bodies；　slicing　long；　straight；
explosive　furrows　out　of　the　Imperial　citizenry　below。　Or　as　if　some　fast…moving；　burrowing　force　was　scattering　them　from　below。
Stippled　lines　of　explosions　sawed　through　the　populace；　casting　up　both　human　and　mechanical　wreckage。　There　was　an　actual　fog　of
liquefied　tissue　in　the　air。　I　saw　tanks　struck　on　the　highway；　detonating　in　the　mob。　Hundreds　of　Guarsdmen　and　Space　Marines　in　the
rained　cavalcade　opened　fire　into　the　air；　chasing　the　planes；　churning　the　sky　with　bright；　criss…crossed　lines。
A　Lightning　swept　by　almost　overhead；　cutting　to　the　left　of　the　Spatian　Gate。　Its　strafing　firepower　explosively　mangled　hundreds　of
people　perilously　close　to　me；　showering　me　and　the　white　stone　of　the　Gate's　side　face　with　cooked　blood。
Hundreds　of　batteries　in　the　procession　were　now　firing　into　the　sky；　the　Hydras　blitzing　the　air。　Even　tanks　were　firing　…　out　of　anger；
I　suppose；　for　they　hadn't　a　hope　in　hell　of　hitting　the　fast…moving　aircraft。
Yet　something　must　have　struck。　A　second　Lightning　tilted　as　it　passed　over　the　Gate；　tiny　explosions　shredding　its　left　wing　and　tail
section。　It　dove　straight　down　into　the　Avenue　itself。　It　hit　what　seemed　to　me　to　be　the　heart　of　the　Warmaster's　section　of　the

Triumph。　The　blast　wake　blew　out　across　the　wide　roadway；　killing　as　many　with　its　concussive　effects　as　with　the　impact　fireball
itself。
The　three　remaining　Lightnings　banked　again　down　over　the　far　end　of　the　Avenue　and　made　for　a　third　pass。　I　was　struck　by　the　way
they　didn't　turn　as　a　pack。　They　flew　individually；　as　if　divorced　from　the　world。　Were　their　pilots　possessed；　insane？　My　mind　span。
Two　of　them　banked　into　each　other　and　almost　hit。　One　didn't　veer；　and　carried　on　up　the　Avenue；　hungry　for　more　carnage。　The
other　was　forced　to　swing　wide；　corrected；　and　turned　over　the　wailing　crowd　mass　to　the　west　of　the　Avenue。
The　third　overshot　and　almost　disappeared。　I　saw　it　loop　faraway；　out　over　the　river　haze；　its　wings　glinting　in　the　sun。　Then　it　too
came　back　for　us。　Like　the　others；　straight　back　heedlessly　into　the　teeth　of　the　firestorms　that　the　tanks；　Hydras　and　infantry　were
throwing　up　at　them。
Several　hundreds　more　died　in　that　final　ran。　Loyal　citizens　whose　exciting　day　out　had　turned　to　horror；　proud　Guardsmen　back　from
the　war；　thinking　only　to　enjoy　this　special　hour　of　praise；　mysterious　Space　Marines；　who　were　there　only　because　they　had　been
invited　to　be　there；　as　an　expression　of　honour；　who　perhaps　greeted　this　death　as　just　an　alternative　to　their　expected　fate。　Imperial
nobles　and　dignitaries　died　in　their　hundreds。　Several　noble　households　never　recovered　from　the　losses　at　the　Triumph　of　Thracian。
The　last　three　Lightnings　fell　in　this　manner。
One；　crossing　the　Spatian　Gate　and　beyond；　was　blown　apart　in　an　air…burst　by　tracking　Hydras　on　the　chaotic　street。
A　second　flew　the　gauntlet　of　anti…air　salvos　without　adjusting　its　height　and　then；　struck　by　one　of　the　guns　almost　as　an　afterthought；
turned　upside　down　in　a　lazy　yaw。　Streaming　smoke；　it　tilted　down　towards　the　ground　but　exploded　against　the　Monument　of　the
Ecclesiarch。
The　third　came　in；　guns　chattering；　and　actually　flew　under　the　arch　of　the　Spatian　Gate。　By　then；　the　Titans　themselves　had　turned　to
engage；　and　my　guts　convulsed　with　the　subsonic　roar　of　their　weapons。　I　could　see　them；　three　kilometres　away；　weapon　mounts
pumping　and　flashing；　high　above　the　crowd。
Excekis　Gaude；　one　of　the　Warlord　Titans；　caught　it　dead　on；　and　killed　it　in　the　air；　but　not　cleanly　enough。　The　tumbling　Lightning；
ablaze　from　end　to　end；　hit　the　immense　Warlord　Titan　square　on　and　decapitated　the　colossus　as　it　exploded。
I　was　lost。　I　was　stupefied。　I　was　speechless。
I　felt　as　if　I　should　fall　to　my　knees　amid　the　tumult　and　beg　the　God…Emperor　of　Mankind　for　salvation。
But　my　part　in　this　was　only　just　beginning。
Pellucid　blue　flame；　like　a　searing　wall　of　acid；　suddenly　washed　through　the　churning　mob　behind　the　Gate。　Men；　women；　soldiers；
civilians；　were　caught　in　it　and　shuddered；　melting；　resolving　into　skeletons　that　turned　to　dust　and　blew　away。
I　felt　the　pain　in　my　sinuses；　the　throb　in　my　spine。　I　knew　what　it　was。
Psyker…evil。　Raw　Chaos；　loosed　on　this　world。
The　prisoners　were　loose。
The　warriors　did　not　matter。　A　vast　pitched　battle　was　already　raging　across　the　Avenue　behind　Spatian's　broken　Gate。　The　Thracian
Guard；　the　Aurora　Marines　and　the　a