Death World(科幻战争)-第30部分

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A　bullet　whistled　by　his　ear；　another　blew　a　clump　of　mud　from　his　shoulder　and　grazed　his　skin。
Then　Lorenzo　rounded　a　bush；　passed　out　of　his　enemies’　sight；　and　abandoned　all　pretence。
He　left　a　trail　of　debris　behind　him　as　he　raced　through　the　jungle；　he　just　hoped　his　pursuers
wouldn’t　recognise　it　for　what　it　was。　He　put　as　many　obstacles　as　he　could　between　him　and　them。
The　orks　were　snarling　and　howling；　and　letting　off　gunfire　in　random　directions；　so　he　knew　they
wouldn’t　hear　him；　as　long　as　they　didn’t　see　him　either；　they　should　assume　he　had　sunk
underground　like　Rogar’s　other　zombies。　In　theory；　at　least。
The　explosions　came　in　quick　succession—two　of　them。　The　orks　had　run　into　their　own　traps；
the　positions　of　the　tripwires　changed　by　Greiss　and　Myers。　Some　of　them　would　have　died。　It　was
still　too　early　to　tell；　though；　if　the　rest　of　the　plan—the　important　part—had　succeeded。
There　was　mud　in　Lorenzo’s　eyes　and　mouth；　but　he　had　reached　his　rendezvous　point　with　the
rest　of　his　squad。　He　was　the　first　there。　He　clawed　great　handfuls　of　dirt　from　his　face；　breathed
deeply　of　the　warm　night　air　and　coughed　up　a　leaf。　He　was　recognisably　Lorenzo　now；　but　a　film　of
the　planet’s　substance　clung　to　him　like　a　second　skin。　He　didn’t　think　he　would　ever　feel　clean
again。
Somebody　spoke；　and　he　jumped；　he　hadn’t　heard　anybody　approaching。　Then　he　recognised
Greiss’　voice；　and　saw　the　familiar　figure　of　his　sergeant　out　of　the　corner　of　his　eye；　though　he
couldn’t　make　out　what　he　was　saying；　so　bunged　up　were　his　ears。　He　started　to　clean　them　with　his
fingers；　as　Greiss　padded　up　to　him　and　laid　a　hand　on　Lorenzo’s　shoulder。
That　was　when　he　saw　his　mistake。
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Lorenzo’s　head　snapped　up；　and　he　looked　into　the　hollow　eyes　of　an　effigy。　A　better　effigy；　far
better；　than　the　first　two；　Rogar　had　sculpted　Greiss’　craggy　features　perfectly；　even　found　plant
tendrils　to　match　the　iron　grey　of　his　hair。　And　that　voice—it　had　possessed　exactly　the　right　gruff
tone；　even　if；　Lorenzo　now　realised；　it　hadn’t　been　saying　a　thing。　He　muttered　a　curse；　aimed　at
himself　for　not　having　paid　attention；　as　he　pushed　the　effigy　away　from　him　and　dived　at　the　same
time；　but　knew　it　was　hopeless。
The　effigy　exploded；　and　Lorenzo　felt　his　ears　popping；　felt　its　spines　stabbing　into　him　before
he　hit　the　ground；　his　left　side　feeling　as　if　it　was　on　fire。
He　rolled　onto　his　back；　raised　his　left　arm；　and　saw　four　spines　protruding　along　its　length；　three
more　embedded　between　his　ribs。　He　yanked　them　out　quickly；　some　tearing　his　skin　and　sending
more　lances　of　pain　through　him。　Most　of　the　spines；　he　was　grateful　to　see；　still　dripped　poison　and
therefore　hadn’t　pumped　the　whole　of　their　doses　into　him。　Seven　spines；　though…　He　was　bleeding
through　some　of　his　wounds；　and　this　too　was　good　because　it　meant　he　might　bleed　some　of　the
poison　out。　He　twisted　his　arm　around　until　he　could　reach　two　of　its　punctures　with　his　mouth；　and
he　sucked　at　them；　his　tongue　recoiling　at　a　strong；　sour　taste。
His　heart　was　hammering；　his　head　light。　The　first　effects　of　the　poison—or　of　his　own　fear？　He
didn’t　want　it　to　end　like　this。　Not　through　his　own　carelessness。　Not　without　a　name　by　which　his
comrades　could　remember　him。
He　searched　his　pockets；　found　the　capsule　of　herbs　that　Donovits　had　given　him　some　months
ago。　A　generic　antitoxin；　he　had　called　it—though　he　had　warned　it　wouldn’t　work　in　all　situations。
Deathworlds；　Donovits　had　said；　had　a　habit　of　evolving　poisons　faster　than　men　could　combat
them—and；　Lorenzo　supposed　gloomily；　he　would　have　said　that　went　double　for　a　world　like
Rogar　III。
He　gulped　the　herbs　down　anyway；　taking　hold　of　all　the　lifelines　he　could。　He　clambered
unsteadily　to　his　feet　as　Armstrong　burst　through　the　jungle　behind　him；　followed　by　Storm；　Greiss
and　then　Braxton。
Lorenzo　told　them　what　had　happened　to　him。　He　had　no　choice：　he　had　to　warn　them　in　case
Rogar　tried　the　same　trick　on　them。　He　downplayed　his　injuries；　though；　claiming　to　have　been　hit
by　only　three　spines　and　professing　a　false　confidence　that　he　had　sucked　most　of　the　poison　out　of
his　bloodstream。　Greiss　gave　him　a　sceptical　look；　but　Lorenzo　was　able　to　return　it　with　clear；
focused　eyes。　Maybe；　he　thought；　he　would　be　alright　after　all？
Myers　returned　a　few　minutes　after　that—having　stayed　to　view　the　aftermath　of　the　Jungle
Fighters’　incursion—and　Lorenzo　could　tell　from　his　broad　grin　that　he　had　the　news　they　wanted　to
hear。　“We　gunned　down　three　greenskins　altogether；”　he　reported；　“and　wounded　a　few　more。　They
lost　another　three；　and　most　of　the　gretchin；　to　their　own　traps。”
“They　called　for　replacements？”　asked　Greiss。
Myers　shook　his　head。　“Just　spread　their　sentries　more　thinly。　“It　worked；　sergeant。　Judging　by
the　way　they’re　looking　around　and　pointing　guns　at　the　plants；　they　think　the　planet　did　this　to
them。”
“How　many　orks　left？”　asked　Armstrong；　performing　a　quick　mental　calculation。　“Six？”
“Five；”　said　Myers。　“One　went　and　stood　itself　right　next　to　my　bush。　I　caught　a　jungle　lizard
creeping　up　on　me。　I　couldn’t　resist　it。　I　gave　it　a　flick　with　my　lasgun；　catapulted　it　onto　the
greenskin’s　shoulder。　The　lizard　stuck　the　ork’s　neck　with　its　tongue　before　it　could　move。　It　was　on
the　ground；　thrashing　and　howling；　when　I　slipped　away。”
“Five　orks；”　said　Greiss；　“and　how　many　gretchin？”
“I　reckon　about　four。　Five；　maybe；”　said　Myers。
“Not　bad；”　mused　Armstrong。　“We　got　the　greenskins　down　to　less　than　half　strength；　and　they
don’t　even　know　they’re　under　attack　yet。”
The　Jungle　Fighters’　next　step　was　to　make　their　presence　well　and　truly　felt。
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They　synchronised　their　assault；　bursting　out　of　cover　from　six　points　simultaneously；　their
lasguns　flaring。　Lorenzo；　Braxton；　Greiss；　Armstrong　and　Storm　took　an　ork　each；　though
Armstrong　had　grumbled　under　his　breath　about　being　assigned　one　that　was　already　injured。　As
Lorenzo　fired　repeatedly　at　his　target；　he　was　aware　of　gretchin　scampering　away　towards　the　mine；
intent　on　taking　a　warning　to　their　warboss。　That　was　Myers’　job：　to　stop　them。
Myers’　las…bolts　struck　the　stunted　creatures　unerringly；　often　finding　the　best　angles　from　which
to　penetrate　two　or　three　of　them。　Two　gretchin　fell；　and　the　remaining　three　were　deterred　from
their　course；　giving　Myers　the　chance　to　get　between　them　and　the　mine　tunnel。　The　single　ork　that
had　been　guarding　the　entrance　had　been　lured　away　by　Greiss；　now　it　hesitated；　glancing　back；　not
sure　whether　to　press　its　attack　against　Greiss　or　to　tackle　this　new　foe。　In　the　event；　it　was　spared
that　decision。　One　of　Greiss’　las…bolts　passed　through　the　ork’s　thick　skull　and　fried　its　brain。
Lorenzo’s　ork　was　thundering　towards　him；　weakened　but　not　defeated。　He　dropped　his　gun；
pulled　his　Catachan　fang；　and　greeted　his　opponent　with　a　well…aimed　slash　to　the　throat。　The　ork
was　dead；　but　still　fighting。　Lorenzo　avoided　its　clumsy　grasp；　but　almost　fell　as　it　rammed　him　with
its　shoulder。　The　ork　toppled；　catching　him　off…balance；　and　bore　him　down　with　its　weight。　Its　left
hand　was　trapped　beneath　it；　but　it　seized　his　throat　with　its　right；　and　Lorenzo　grabbed　a　chunky
green　finger　in　each　hand　and　strained　to　pry　them　apart。
The　ork　ran　out　of　strength；　and　its　eyes　rolled　back　into　its　head　as　it　heaved　its　final　breath。
Lorenzo　pulled　himself　out　from　under　it；　in　time　to　see　Sergeant　Greiss　gunning　down　the　last　of
the　gretchin。　The　rest　of　his　squad　were　already　pulling　ork　corpses　into　the　foliage；　hiding　them；
and　Lorenzo　followed　suit。　None　of　their　targets　had　survived　to　spread　word；　but　it　was　possible
that　the　sounds　of　battle　had　carried　into　the　mine。
Lorenzo　waited；　crouching　silently；　watching　the　tunnel　entrance；　the　blood　of　his　dead　enemy
seeping　into　his　boot。　After　a　minute　or　so；　something　stirred　down　there；　and　Lorenzo　tensed　at　the
sight　of　an　oncoming　light。
It　was　another　barrow…pushing　ork。　Evidently；　it　hadn’t　heard　anything　amiss；　because　it　strode
right　out　into　the　clearing　and　stood　there；　blinking　in　the　harsh　light　of　the　lanterns；　just　beginning
to　register　the　fact　that　it　was　alone。
It　dropped　its　barrow；　which　teetered　and　upturned　itself；　spilling　its　contents。　A　look　of
confusion；　tinged　with　fear；　began　to　spread　across　the　ork’s　face—and　froze　there　as　multiple　lasbolts
stabbed　out　of　the　darkness　to　impale　it。
The　Jungle　Fighters　emerged　into　the　clearing　again；　and　Greiss　jabbed　the　fallen　ork　with　his
toe　to　check　that　it　was　really　dead；　that　it　wouldn’t　spring　up　and　surprise　them。　Myers　asked　if　they
should　burn　the　bodies；　to　prevent　the　planet　from　making　use　of　them。　Greiss　concluded；
reluctantly；　that　they　had　no　time；　that　their　work　here　could　be　discovered　at　any　moment；　and　that
they　would　just　have　to　take　that　chance。
They　headed　into　the　mine　tunnel；　in　single　file；　Storm　taking　point　wearing　an　ork　miner’s
helmet；　lighting　their　way　through　the　darkness。　Myers　was　behind　him；　then　Armstrong；　Braxton；
Lorenzo　and　finally　Greiss；　his　knife　drawn；　ready　for　anything　that　might　try　sneaking　up　on　them
from　behind。
They　had　taken　only　ten　steps；　hardly　left　the　lights　of　the　clearing　behind　them；　when　they　came
across　another　ork　with　a　barrow。　Its　helmet　beam　dazzled　Lorenzo—but　Storm’s　beam　blinded　the
ork　in　turn　so　that；　for　a　fateful　moment；　it　didn’t　recognise　the　intruders　for　what　they　were。
Sergeant　Greiss　had　decreed　that　lasguns　should　only　be　used　now　when　strictly　necessary—not　just
because　they　were　low　on　ammo；　but　because　who　knew　how　far　the　sound　would　carry　through
these　tunnels—so　Storm　leapt　at　the　creature　with　a　muted　snarl　and　his　Catachan　fang　raised　and；
impressively；　he　gutted　it　before　it　could　raise　much　more　than　a　whimper。
Storm　took　the　dead　ork’s　helmet　and　passed　it　back　along　the　line　to　Greiss；　who　turned　off　the
helmet’s　light　but　placed　it　on　his　head　for　future　use。　Then　they　crept　on　downward；　the　slope　of　the
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tunnel　becoming　more　pronounced　until　Lorenzo　judged　that　they　were　descending　below　ground
level。
He　eyed　the　precarious　wooden　struts—most　of　them　just　branches　chopped　to　size；　still
sprouting　offshoots　and　leaves—that　were　wedged　into　the　passageway　supporting　the　increasing
weight　of　the　earth　above　their　heads。　He　didn’t　trust　them。
The　ground　shook　again　then；　as　if　to　underscore　his　fears；　and　Lorenzo　swallowed　as　the
makeshift　struts　rattled　fiercely　and　a　shower　of　loose　soil　fell　about　his　ears。　He　couldn’t　tell　if　this
tremor　was　lighter　or　heavier　than　the　first　two；　he　only　knew　that　it　felt　more　ominous　down　here；
where　it　wasn’t　just　below　him　but　around　him　and　above　him　too；　and　where　he　knew　there　would
be　nowhere　to　hide　from　a　more　severe　quake；　no　way　to　avoid　being　buried　alive。
“You　realise；”　said　Braxton；　putting　Lorenzo’s　own　thoughts　into　words　as　the　tremor　subsided；
“if　this　place　caves　in；　we’ll　have　come　all　this　way　for　nothing。　Rogar　will　have　dealt　with　Big
Green　for　us。”
“Maybe；”　grunted　Greiss；　“and　maybe　not。　Maybe　he’ll　just　slip　away　through　his　escape　tunnel；
wherever　that　is；　and　maybe