Gunheads(科幻战争)-第35部分

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was　running　laps。　He　kept　hearing　Lenck’s　words　in　his　head。　The　old　scar　on　his　throat　was
irritating　him；　too。　He　scratched　it　lightly。
The　vox　channels　were　mostly　quiet。　The　only　regular　traffic　was　coming　from　the　Sentinel　and
motorbike　scouts　up　front。　After　a　minute；　Beans’　voice　broke　in　on　his　thoughts。
“Want　a　read？”　said　the　gunner　with　a　grin　as　he　offered　his　sergeant　his　magazine。
“Not　much　reading　in　it；”　Wulfe　replied　with　a　half…smile；　but　he　took　it　anyway。
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CHAPTER　EIGHTEEN
By　the　sixth　day　out　of　Balkar；　General　deViers　had　started　to　develop　a　dry；　itchy　cough。　It　wasn’t
nearly　as　bad　as　those　of　some　of　his　officers；　but　it　caused　him　a　certain　degree　of　panic　because　he
was　so　much　older　and；　therefore；　more　vulnerable　to　Golgotha’s　subtle　assaults　on　his　health。　He
had　seen　what　the　red　dust　had　done　to　some　of　his　troopers。　The　damned　medicae　staff　were　being
about　as　much　use　as　a　paper　lasgun；　in　his　opinion。
Last　night；　the　high　canyon　walls　of　Red　Gorge　had　come　to　an　abrupt　end。　The　column　had
made　it　through　without　incident　and　had　set　up　camp　briefly　on　the　open　sand　at　the　canyon’s
mouth。　Dawn　had　broken　only　an　hour　ago；　revealing　just　how　fortuitous　the　decision　to　halt　the
column　had　been。　His　decision；　of　course。　Had　the　men　of　Exolon　continued　pushing　eastwards；
they　would　have　run　straight　into　the　biggest　ork　fortification　that　deViers　had　ever　seen。
He　was　looking　at　it　now。
He　stood　just　outside　the　doorway　of　a　hastily…erected　command　tent；　magnoculars　pressed　to　his
eyes；　scanning　the　massive　ugly　structure　that　seemed　to　run　from　one　end　of　the　horizon　to　the
other。　Behind　it；　visible　as　little　more　than　a　faint　silhouette　in　the　morning　light；　he　could　see　the
slopes　of　the　towering　Ishawar　Mountains。　Their　peaks　were　invisible；　lost　in　the　bellies　of　bloodcoloured
clouds。
“Why　in　blazes　wasn’t　I　told　about　this？”　he　raged。　“It’s　colossal。　How　could　the　probe…servitors
possibly　have　missed　something　like　this？　Get　those　tech…priests　in　here。　Get　Magos　Sennesdiar。　I
want　some　damned　answers　at　once。”
The　ork　wall　was　easily　a　hundred　metres　tall。　Throne　knew　how　long　it　was。　It　was　breathtaking
in　its　scale。　It　was　plated　with　great　metal　slabs　of　armour　painted　red　from　top　to　bottom；　and
decorated　with　oversized　ork　glyphs　daubed　crudely　in　white。　There　were　sharp；　uneven
crenellations　all　along　the　battlements；　and　the　barrels　of　huge　cannon　could　be　seen　thrusting
outwards　from　behind　them。　But　was　the　wall　manned？　In　the　short　time　deViers　had　been　watching；
he　hadn’t　witnessed　any　signs　of　life。　Could　he　trust　his　eyes？　The　haze　of　dust　and　shimmering　air
made　it　difficult　to　discern　movement　at　this　range。　The　gun…towers　and　battlements　could；　in　fact；
be　seething　with　the　foe。
If　they　were　there　at　all；　however；　it　seemed　that　they　hadn’t　spotted　the　18th　Army　Group。　Not
yet。
Their　eyesight；　thought　deViers；　isn’t　as　good　as　ours；　but　the　longer　we　watch　and　wait；　the
more　time　we　give　them　to　discover　us。　We　can’t　lose　the　element　of　surprise。　A　sudden　thrust　is　our
best　chance　to　get　through；　and　we　must　get　through。　Glory　and　fame　await；　Mohamar。　It　won’t　be
long　now。
There　were　vast　iron　gates；　as　tall　as　the　wall　itself；　spaced　at　intervals　all　along　its　length；　but
none　were　open。　They　looked　very　heavy；　very　solid。
One　of　the　major　generals　cleared　his　throat。　DeViers　couldn’t　tell　which　one。
“And　we’ve　no　idea　how　far　it　extends？”　deViers　asked。　“No　idea　at　all？”
Bergen；　Killian　and　Rennkamp　all　stood　a　pace　behind　him；　staring　out　at　the　ork　wall　through
their　own　magnoculars。
“There　hasn’t　been　time　to　properly　reconnoitre　it　yet；　sir；”　said　Bergen。　“The　Vulcan　pilots　say
they’re　awaiting　your　order　to　go　up；　if　that’s　what　you　want。　There　might　be　a　way　around　it。　Best
estimates　at　this　time　suggest　it’s　over　a　hundred　kilometres　long；　though。”
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“By　the　Golden　Throne；”　hissed　deViers。　“Over　a　hundred　kilometres。”
He　wasn’t　optimistic　about　finding　a　way　around。　A　feeling　in　his　gut；　an　instinct　developed　over
decades　of　battlefield　command；　told　him　this　was　all　part　of　his　great　test。　Here　was　an　obstacle　put
before　him　to　see　if　he　was　worthy　of　everlasting　fame。　No；　there　would　be　no　going　around　it。
There　was　nothing　for　free　in　this　universe。
The　sheer　size　of　the　wall　suggested　it　might　have　been　built　to　keep　out　Titans。　A　foolish
notion；　of　course。　Nothing　could　keep　out　a　Titan　for　long；　but　it　probably　made　some　kind　of
rudimentary　sense　to　the　greenskins。　Was　the　construction　of　the　wall　a　reaction　to　Yarrick’s　assault
on　Golgotha？　The　mighty　commissar　had　employed　Titans　throughout　his　campaign。　Perhaps　the
greenskins　had　anticipated　an　Imperial　return　all　along。
“Gather　the　officers　together；”　deViers　told　his　three　major　generals。　“I　want　us　through　those
gates　by　the　end　of　the　day。”
“Sir！”　protested　Killian。　“We　have　no　idea　of　the　enemy’s　strength。　We　need　full　and　proper
reconnaissance。　At　least　let　us　get　some　idea　of　their　numbers　before　we—”
“I　didn’t　ask　for　opinions；　Klotus；”　snapped　the　general。　“You　can　see　those　gates　as　well　as　I
can；　can’t　you？　Reconnoitre　all　we　like；　I　tell　you　now；　we’ll　find　no　way　around。　We’ll　have　to
punch　our　way　through　one　of　them。　I　will　not　be　stopped；　not　by　a　damned　wall；　not　by　anything。”
Bergen；　Killian　and　Rennkamp　dropped　their　magnoculars　and　shared　a　quick　look　that　deViers
decided　to　pretend　he　hadn’t　seen。
“Might　we　not　send　the　Vulcans　on　a　forward　sweep；　sir？”　asked　Bergen。　“Order　it　now　and
we’ll　know　what　we’re　dealing　with。　At　the　very　least；　they　could　give　us　some　idea　of　what’s
beyond　it。”
“We　don’t　exactly　have　air　support　to　spare；　Gerard；”　said　deViers。　“You　know　that。　They　could
be　cut　to　pieces　by　triple…A　fire。　I　don’t　suppose　you’d　like　to　explain　that　to　Commodore
Galbraithe？”
“But　surely　just　one；　sir；”　said　Rennkamp。
“It　would　be　better　than　charging　in　blind；”　said　Bergen。
“You　know；”　said　Killian；　“with　luck　and　a　prayer；　the　bloody　orks　might　well　have　moved　on。　I
didn’t　see　any　movement。　No　signs　of　occupation　at　all。　I　mean；　who　knows　how　old　that　thing　is？”
DeViers　shook　his　head。　“No；　Klotus。　They’re　there　all　right。　It　took　a　lot　of　work　to　make　that
wall。　Our　prize　lies　behind　it。　And　I’m　damned　sure　that　the　xenos　filth　who　made　it　are　still　behind
it；　too。”
“Honestly；　sir；”　said　Rennkamp。　“A　single　Vulcan。　Just　one　fast　sweep　and　we’ll　know　for　sure。”
“And　put　the　whole　damned　greenskin　horde　on　immediate　high　alert？　No；　Aaron。　No　aerial
recon。　The　Vulcans　can’t　fly　high　enough　in　this　accursed　weather　to　evade　detection。　Give　me
something　else。”
“A　Hornet　then；　sir；”　said　Bergen。　“A　single　Hornet　reconnaissance　bike　might　be　mistaken　for
one　of　the　orks’　own　at　long　range。　That’s　no　guarantee　they　won’t　fire　on　it　anyway；　of　course；　but
if　we’re　lucky；　it’ll　draw　a　lot　less　attention　and　still　let　us　get　a　man　close　enough　to　make　a
difference。”
DeViers　nodded。　“That　sounds　feasible。　Make　it　happen。　Get　the　best　scout　we　have　out　there。
Someone　with　experience。　I’ll　want　a　full　report；　including　a　list　of　as　many　weak　points　as　possible；
within　the　hour。”
Bergen　saluted　and　moved　off　to　see　it　done。
It　didn’t　take　an　hour。　It　was　only　forty　minutes　later　that　the　Hornet　rider　chosen　for　the
reconnaissance　run　reported　back　to　Colonel　Marrenburg。　The　colonel　cut　the　scout’s　verbal　report
short；　ordering　him　to　save　it　for　the　general’s　command　tent　where　the　army　group’s　senior　officers
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—　more　than　a　dozen　men　ranking　colonel　and　higher　—　awaited　them。　Marrenburg　then　led　his
man　over　the　red　sand　and　in　through　the　tent　flap。　The　day　was　already　baking　hot。
In　the　cooler　shade　of　the　general’s　tent；　Marrenburg　introduced　his　scout　to　the　assembled
officers。
“Gentlemen；”　he　said　proudly；　“this　is　Sergeant　Bussmann。　He’s　the　best　damned　scout　in　my
outfit。　You　can　have　absolute　confidence　in　his　report；　I　assure　you。”
Since　Sergeant　Bussmann　belonged　to　Bergen’s　division；　deViers　asked　Bergen　to　conduct　the
briefing；　giving　the　general　and　the　others　a　chance　to　concentrate　on　the　details　and　any　questions
they　needed　to　ask。　There　wasn’t　much　good　news。　Judging　by　the　sergeant’s　account；　the　wall　was
more　daunting　the　closer　one　got　to　it。　Whatever　lay　inside　must　have　been　of　great　value　to　the
greenskins；　for　they　had　expended　tremendous　resources　in　its　construction；　resources　that　might
otherwise　have　gone　into　the　construction　of　hundreds；　if　not　thousands；　of　their　war　machines。
This　bothered　Bergen　on　two　counts。　Firstly；　it　suggested　that　the　orks　had　enough　resources　to
be　able　to　afford　such　a　grand　static　defence。　This　led　him　to　suspect　they　had　established　ore
refineries　somewhere。　Were　they　close　by？　Golgotha　had　been　selected　for　occupation　by　the
Adeptus　Mechanicus　centuries　ago　for　the　amount　and　variety　of　metals　deep　within　its　crust。　It
wasn’t　much　of　a　stretch　to　believe　the　orks　were　taking　similar　advantage　of　the　resources。
Secondly；　the　use　of　so　much　valuable　metal　in　construction　of　the　wall　could　only　mean　that
whatever　lay　on　the　other　side　was　something　the　orks　considered　very　important。　Yes；　they　were
beastlike　and　savage；　but　they　could　be　cunning；　too。　They　weren’t　nearly　as　mindless　as　men
believed。　They　had　built　a　wall；　and　there　had　to　be　a　good　reason。
As　he　listened　to　Bussmann；　Bergen　found　himself　wondering　if　The　Fortress　of　Arrogance
might　not　be　the　thing　the　aliens　were　trying　to　protect。　Had　they　known　all　along　that　the　Imperium
would　come　back　to　Golgotha　to　collect　it？　Had　they　planned　and　built　the　wall　knowing　that　the
fight　would　come　to　them？
Bussmann　reported　large　amounts　of　artillery　present　on　the　parapets。　Some　of　the　barrels　he　had
seen　extending　out　from　between　the　wall’s　teeth　were　unnervingly　broad；　chambered　for　rounds　of
such　size　they　might　have　been　more　at　home　on　the　prow　of　an　interstellar　battleship。
That’s　it　then；　thought　Bergen。　They　must　still　be　here。　There’s　no　way　the　greenskins　would
leave　weapons　like　that　behind。　By　the　blasted　Eye；　we’ve　got　a　fight　on　our　hands。
It　had　been　impossible　for　Bussmann　to　gauge　the　thickness　of　the　wall　and　how　well　it　would
stand　up　to　the　weaponry　of　the　18th　Army　Group；　but　it　certainly　looked　like　it　could　take　a
beating。　On　the　other　hand；　some　of　the　plates　were　rusting；　and　orks　rarely　built　anything　with
consistent　strength　throughout。　There　would　be　irregularities　in　the　structure　that　Exolon　could
exploit　if　only　they　could　find　them。
The　question　was；　would　they　have　the　chance？　Bussmann　had　spotted　numerous　hinged　plates
set　in　the　wall　at　apparently　random　points。　A　few　of　them　had　fallen　off；　their　bolts　having　rusted；
revealing　the　nature　of　the　others。　They　were　firing　ports；　and　the　cannon　they　hid　were　massive。
At　the　end　of　his　report；　Sergeant　Bussmann　cast　a　somewhat　anxious　glance　at　Colonel
Marrenburg。　Then　he　took　a　deep　breath　and　said；　“In　my　opinion；　sirs；　a　direct　frontal　assault　on　the
ork　wall　will　result　in　very　heavy　losses。　If　it　were　up　to　me—”
“Sergeant；”　snapped　Mar