The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第14部分

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'This　is　a　damned　thankless　task；'　Roban　said　to　me。　'I　don't　even　know　why　we're　here！'

'Cannon　fodder；'　said　his　youthful　interrogator；　Inshabel；　bluntly；　and　it　made　us　both　laugh。
'There　has　to　be　something…'　I　said。　I　took　out　my　pocket　scope　and　tried　to　read　the　energy　patterns　and　spectrums。
'You！'　I　called　to　one　of　the　arbites　in　our　party；　a　grizzled　precinct　commander　in　full　riot　gear。
'Inquisitor？'
'What's　your　name？'
'Lucius；　sir。'
'Dear　God…Emperor！'　I　sighed　again　and　Roban　laughed　once　more。
'Okay；　Luckless　…　this　palace　must　come　into　your　precinct's　patrol　area。'
'Yes；　sir。'
'So　street　security　around　it　is　your　responsibility。'
'Again；　yes　sir。'
'So…　just　as　a　matter　of　procedure；　your　section　house　will　have　on　file　the　shield　type　and　harmonics　for　the　palace；　in　case　of
emergencies。'　In　my　experience；　it　was　standard　protocol　for　any　arbites　precinct　to　know　such　things　about　key　structures　within　their
purview。
'It's　classified；　sir。'
'Of　course　it　is；'　I　sighed　again。　'But　now　would　be　a　good　time。
He　got　on　his　vox…link　and　after　a　lot　of　effort；　managed　to　get　a　channel　open　to　the　section　house。
'You're　on　to　something；　aren't　you？'　Roban　asked　me。
'Maybe。'
'The　—'
'The　what？'
'No　offence。　Your　reputation　precedes　you。'
'Does　it　now？　In　a　good　way？'
Roban　grinned　and　shook　his　head；　like　a　man　who　might　have　heard　something；　but　who　had　decided　to　make　up　his　own　mind。
'IT'S　AN　OLD　type…ten　conical　void；'　Arbites　Commander　Lucius　reported　presently。　'Tangent　eight…seven…eight　harmonic　wave。　We
don't　have　an　override　code。　Lady　Lange　wouldn't　permit　it。'
'I　bet　she　wishes　she　had　now；'　said　Interrogator　Inshabel；　caustic　and　to　the　point　once　again。　I　was　beginning　to　like　him。
'Thank　you；　Luckless；'　I　said。
'It's…　Lucius；　sir。'
'I　know。'
I　tried　to　remember　everything　Aemos　had　counselled　me　about　shields　over　the　years。　I　wished　I　had　his　recall。　Better　still；　I　wished　I
had　him　here。
'We　can　collapse　it；'　I　said；　with　fair　confidence。
'Collapse　a　void　shield？'　Roban　asked。
'It's　conical…　super…surface　only。　And　it's　old。　Voids　shrug　off　just　about　anything；　but　they　don't　retain　their　field　if　you　take　out　one
or　more　of　the　projectors。
'That　buttress　there；　the　one　the　garden　wall　is　built　around；　that's　got　to　be　one　of　the　projector　units；　seated　down　into　the　ground。'
Roban　nodded；　apparently　impressed。　'I　see　the　logic；　but　not　the　practice。'
I　walked　over　to　Brother…Sergeant　Kurvel；　interrupting　his　conversation　with　Heldane　without　apology；　and　explained　what　I　wanted
to　do。
Heldane　scoffed　at　once。　'Lyko's　already　trying　that！'
'How？'
'He's　located　the　outer　controls　at　the　front　gate　and　is　trying　to　break　their　coding…'
'Coding　and　controls　that　will　be　dead　and　locked　out　thanks　to　Esarhaddon。　Lyko's　wasting　his　time。　We　can't　switch　this　off。　We
can't　break　Esarhaddon's　control　over　its　system。　But　we　can　undermine　the　system　itself。'
Heldane　was　about　to　speak　again；　but　Voke　shut　him　up。
'I　think　Gregor　may　be　on　to　something。'
'Why？'
Voke　pointed。　Close　to　five　hundred　citizens　were　now　advancing　towards　us　from　streets　on　all　sides。
'Because　as　you　pointed　out；　Heldane；　the　monster　can　hear　us；　and　he　clearly　doesn't　like　the　sound　of　this　plan。'
IT　TOOK　KURVEL　about　ten　minutes　to　gouge　out　the　pavement　and　a　section　of　garden　wall　with　his　lightning　claw；　and　all　the　while
we　were　under　attack　from　the　growing　mob　of　puppets。
'Sewer！'　Kurvel　announced。
I　turned　to　the　others　as　shots　and　missiles　rained　down。　'Commodus…　you　have　to　hold　them　off　a　while　longer。'
'Count　on　it；'　he　said。
'Roban；　get　a　small　squad　and　follow　me。'
Heldane　wasn't　happy。　But　by　then；　Heldane　wasn't　calling　the　shots　any　more。　I　believe　he　took　his　rage　out　on　the　enslaved　citizens。

I　DROPPED　INTO　the　sewer　hole　with　Kurvel；　Roban；　Inshabel　and　three　troopers　of　the　Interior　Guard。　The　defence　on　the　street　above
could　barely　spare　any　of　them。
The　filthy　sewer　tube　went　in　under　the　wall　itself　before　dropping　sharply　away。　Old；　patched　stone　swelled　around　the　base　of　the
buttress。　The　stone　was　warm；　and　foamy　clumps　of　fungus　were　growing　on　it。
Inshabel　trained　a　spotbeam　in　so　I　could　see。
Kurvel　could　see　in　the　dark。　He　took　out　his　last　two　krak　grenades　and　fixed　them　to　the　stonework　with　smears　of　adhesive　paste
from　a　tube　he　carried　in　his　pack。
'I　wish　we　had　more。　We　could　blow　the　wall　right　through。'
'We　could；　brother…sergeant；　but　this　might　be　better。'
'Why？'
'Because　if　we　can　simply　make　this　projector　fail；　the　energies　of　the　shield　will　short　out　before　they　collapse。　Rather　than　blowing
outwards；　that'll　cause　an　electromagnetic　pulse　within　the　field　itself。　And　I　think　an　EM　pulse　is　the　last　thing　Esarhaddon　wants
right　now。'
As　if　to　prove　my　suspicions　right；　a　stabbing　sheet　of　psychic　power　lashed　at　us。　Esarhaddon　had　realised　his　vulnerability；　and　was
turning　his　immense　power　on　us　now。　The　puppets　had　been　sport；　but　now　it　was　time　to　control　or　blast　out　the　minds　of　his　hunters
before　they　stopped　being　playthings　and　became　a　danger。
The　psyker　attack　was　devastating。　Two　of　the　Interior　guardsmen　simply　died。　Another　started　firing；　hitting　Kurvel　twice　and
wounding　Inshabel。　Regretfully；　Roban　blasted　the　trooper　down　with　his　laspistol。
Our　minds　were　harder　to　attack；　especially　given　the　shield　formed　by　the　rock　above　us　and　our　proximity　to　the　energy　flux　of　the
shield。
But　Roban；　Inshabel；　Kurvel　and　I　would　be　dead　or　homicidal　in　seconds。
How　I　wished　for　Alizebeth；　or　any　of　the　Distaff　right　then。
'Trigger　it！　Trigger　it！'　I　gasped；　the　blood　vessels　in　my　nose　and　throat　opening　yet　again　that　day。
'We're　right　on　top　of　the—'
'Just　do　it；　brother…sergeant！　In　the　name　of　the　God…Emperor！'
THE　BLAST　TOOK　out　the　projector。　It　filled　the　sewer　tunnel　with　flickering　destruction。　It　would　have　killed　us　but　for　the　fact　that
Brother…Sergeant　Kurvel　shielded　us　with　his　massive　armoured　body。
It　cost　him　his　life。
I　have　made　a　point　to　have　his　name　and　memory　celebrated　by　the　Primarch　of　the　White　Consuls。
WITH　THE　GENERATING　projector　killed；　the　void　shield　collapsed　in　on　itself；　blacking　out　the　palace　systems　with　the　thunderclap　of
electromagnetic　rage。
Blacking　out　Esarhaddon's　seething　mind　too。
My　research　into　untouchables；　through　Alizebeth　and　then　through　the　Distaff　she　created　and　ran；　had　indicated　to　me　that　perhaps
psychic　power；　no　matter　how　potent；　relied　in　the　final　analysis　on　the　electrical　workings　of　the　human　mind；　the　firing　of　impulse
charges　between　synapses。　Untouchables　somehow　blanked　this；　and　triggered　a　disturbing　and　disarming　vacancy　in　the　natural　and
fundamental　processes　of　the　human　brain。　That；　I　had　initially　concluded；　was　why　psykers　don't　work　around　untouchables…　and
why　forgetfulness　and　unease　is　prevalent　in　their　company。　And；　ultimately；　why　they　disturb　and　upset　humans　so；　and　psykers
doubly　so。
I'd　turned　the　old　void　shield　into　a　brief；　bright　untouchable　event。
And　now；　Emperor　damn　him；　the　heretic　psyker　Esarhaddon；　temporarily　rendered　deaf；　blind　and　mute；　was　mine。

EIGHT
ESARHADDON？S　LAIR。
LYKO　THE　VICTOR。
A　VESTIGE。
WE　WENT　INTO　the　grounds　of　the　Lange　palace　over　the　wall。　There　was　a　harsh　stink　of　ozone　from　the　ruptured　shield；　and　the
trimmed　fruit　trees　and　laraebur　hedges　of　the　gardens　were　singed　and　smouldering。
With　Roban　and　Inshabel；　I　ran　down　a　flint…chip　path　between　the　servants'　wing　and　the　east　portico。　Flashlights　and　under…muzzle
torches　bobbed　in　the　gardens　behind　us　as　Heldane　led　the　main　force　of　our　troop　round　to　the　garden　terrace。
The　house　was　dead　and　dark；　all　power　killed　by　the　pulse。　The　main　doors　on　the　east　portico　lay　splintered　on　the　mosaic　floor
where　the　accompanying　wave　of　overpressure　from　the　void　collapse　had　blown　them　in。　All　of　the　windows　were　smashed　holes　too。
Photo…receptors　and　climate　controls　in　the　portico's　polished　blue…wood　panels　were　fused　and　charred。　Smoke　and　the　glow　of
flames　issued　from　deeper　in　the　palace。

We　pushed　further　in；　finding　dead　house　staff　and　inert　servitors。　A　whole　suite　of　state　rooms　on　the　first　floor　was　burning　where
ornate　promethium　lamps　had　been　knocked　over。
We　checked　the　rooms　on　each　side　as　we　progressed。　Roban　led　the　way；　sweeping　his　braced　laspistol　from　side　to　side。
'How　long？'　Inshabel　asked　me。
'Until？'
'Until　he　recovers　from　the　pulse？'
I　didn't　know。　There　was　no　telling　how　badly　we'd　hurt　Esarhaddon；　or　how　resilient　his　mind　was。　We　hadn't　got　long。
On　the　second　floor；　a　flight　of　aethercite　steps　brought　us　up　into　a　grand　banqueting　hall。　The　roof；　a　turtleback　of　toughened　glass；
had　fallen　in　and　the　psi…storms　crackled　and　surged　in　the　sky　far　above。　Every　step　crunched　glass　or　disturbed　debris。
There　were　bodies　here　too；　the　bodies　of　nobility　and　servants　intermingled。
I　heard　movement　and　sobbing　from　an　adjoining　antechamber。
The　wretched　occupants　of　the　room　gasped　in　terror　as　our　flashlights　found　them。　A　handful　of　survivors　from　the　household；
cowering　in　fear　in　the　dark。　Many　displayed　signs　of　psychic　burns　or　telekinetic　welts。
'Imperial　Inquisition；'　I　said　firmly　but　quietly。　'Stay　calm。　Where　is　Esarhaddon？'
Some　flinched　or　moaned　at　the　sound　of　the　name。　A　regal　dowager　in　a　torn　pearlescent　gown　curled　up　in　the　corner　and　began
weeping。
'Quickly…　there's　little　time！　Where　is　he？'　I　thought　to　use　my　will　to　spur　them　into　an　answer；　but　their　minds　had　been　tortured
enough　already　that　night。　Even　a　mild　mental　probe　might　kill　some　of　them。
'W…when　the　lights　went　out；　he　ran…　ran　towards　the　west　exit；'　said　a　blood…soaked　man　dressed　in　what　I　presumed　was　the
uniform　of　the　House　Lange　bodyguard。
'Can　you　show　us？'
'My　leg's　broken…'
'Someone　else　then！　Please！'
'Frewa…　you　go。　Frewa！'　The　bodyguard　gestured　to　a　terrified　page　boy　crouching　behind　a　column。
'Come　on；　lad；　show　us　the　way；'　Roban　said　encouragingly。
The　boy　got　to　his　feet；　his　eyes　white　with　fear。　I　wasn't　sure　if　he　was　more　afraid　of　Esarhaddon　or　the　inquisitors　looming　over
him。
A　COMMUNICATING　HALLWAY　ran　from　the　rear　of　the　banquet　hall　west　towards　the　house's　private　landing　platform。　Specks　of　blood
and　glass　twinkled　along　its　tiled　floor。
I　felt　what　seemed　to　me　a　breath　of　wind　on　my　skin。　An　exit　to　the　outside；　perhaps？
Heavy　blast　shutters　were　prised　open　in　the　entrance　to　the　gloomy　loading　dock。　Past　the　shadowy　shapes　of　several　slumped；
dormant　cargo　servitors；　stood　a　main　hatchway　through　which　cold　exterior　light　flickered。
My　weapon　raised；　I　waved　Roban　and　Inshabel　round　to　the　right。　The　page　boy　cowered　back　in　the　doorway。　The　air　quality　was
changing；　as　if　the　atmosphere　itself　was　stiffening　and　drawing　tight。　Like　some　great　force　gathering　its　breath。
Esarhaddon　was　recovering；　I　was　certain。
Livid　green　light　suddenly　bathed　the　loading　dock；　a　psychometric　flare　accompanying　a　burst　of　savage　psionic　power。　Roban　and　I
staggered；　our　lungs　squeezed　and　fingers　of　telekinesis　thrusting　at　our　minds。　Inshabel　cried　out　as　he　was　bowled　over　from　behind
by　the　page　boy；　Frewa。　Dul