Gunheads(科幻战争)-第50部分

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Sennesdiar　yanked　the　tiny；　lambent　cylinder　from　its　socket　and　closed　the　panel。　Moments
later；　the　diodes　on　Xephous’　face　glimmered　to　life　again。
　Sennesdiar　told　him。　He　raised　the　intelligence　core　in　front　of　the　adept’s　face。
The　first　thing　the　adept　did　was　to　pull　his　cowl　up　over　his　head。　

Armadron　nodded　once。　
　said　Sennesdiar。　
Without　further　discussion；　he　crushed　Ipharod’s　intelligence　core　between　his　metal　thumb　and
forefinger。　The　cylinder　crumpled　easily。　Its　dim　glow　went　out。　Then　Sennesdiar　threw　the　ruined
core　over　his　shoulder　with　a　very　deliberate　and　precise　motion。
It　hit　something　soft　before　it　struck　the　ground。
It　hit　Jarryl　Katz。
“You　may　come　forward　now；　Cadian；”　said　Sennesdiar　in　Low　Gothic。　“We　have　known　of
your　presence　for　quite　some　time。”
Katz　shook　his　head。　The　game　was　up。　He　should　have　known　better　than　to　get　too　close。　They
were　tech…priests；　so　of　course　their　senses　were　augmented　beyond　his　own。　Had　they　smelled　him？
Or　heard　him？　Had　they　sensed　his　body　heat？
Resigned；　he　stepped　towards　them；　sweat　beading　on　his　head　despite　the　cool；　dry　air。　“What　is
your　name？”　asked　the　largest　of　the　three。
“Schweitzer；”　said　Katz　defiantly。
“A　falsehood；”　said　the　magos。　The　slightest　fluctuation　in　your　heartbeat　gives　your　deceit
away。　“Speak　the　truth。”
Katz　couldn’t　help　but　be　impressed。　“You　can　detect　that？”
“From　this　distance；　yes；”　replied　Sennesdiar。　“That　and　much　more。　No　matter　who　you　are；
you　could　not　have　followed　us　without　our　knowledge。　Still；　it　is　remarkable　that　you　moved　so
quickly　and　quietly　in　this　darkness。　You　are　augmented；　yes？”
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The　magos　took　a　sudden　pace　forward；　and　Katz　found　himself　looking　up　into　a　face　more
dead　than　alive。　It　was　expressionless；　unreadable；　and　he　knew　he　had　to　get　away。　Whatever
humanity　might　have　once　existed　beneath　that　pallid　mask　of　ancient　skin　was　long　gone。　Despite
whatever　vestiges　of　organic　matter　remained；　it　was　a　machine　that　stared　back　at　him　through
black　lenses　—　a　cold；　calculating；　ruthlessly　efficient　machine。
“The　expedition　force　will　be　moving　out　shortly；”　said　Katz；　working　to　keep　his　voice　level。
“If　you’re　finished　here；　we　should　all　be　getting　back。　We　don’t　want　to　get　left　behind；　now；　do
we？”
Katz　wondered　if　the　tech…priests　were　reading　his　heartbeat　now。　It　was　galloping。
The　magos　said　nothing　more。　Katz　had　just　decided　to　turn　away　when　something　metallic
whipped　towards　him　from　the　bottom　edge　of　his　vision。　Bright；　flaring　agony　gripped　him。　His
lungs　felt　filled　with　liquid　fire。　He　looked　down　and　saw　that　one　of　the　magos’　writhing
mechadendrites　had　punched　straight　through　the　fabric　of　his　tunic　and　into　the　muscles　of　his
upper　abdomen。　Hot　blood　began　to　pour　out　over　his　tunic　and　trousers。
He　grunted　in　pain。　He　tried　to　speak；　but　there　was　no　breath　behind　the　words。　He　couldn’t
draw　any。　His　lungs　wouldn’t　work。　He　fumbled　weakly；　uselessly；　for　the　knife　at　his　belt。
“You　will　not　suffer　long；　Cadian；”　said　the　magos。　“Your　death　is　inconvenient；　but　we　cannot
allow　you　to　report　what　you　have　seen。　There　is　already　enough　mistrust　between　the　expedition
commanders　and　the　Machine　Cult。　The　relationship　must　not　be　destabilised　further　at　this　critical
time。”
Katz　felt　a　savagely　painful　tug　inside　him。　The　end　of　the　blood…covered　mechadendrite
withdrew　from　his　body；　taking　his　heart　with　it。　Blood　pattered　like　rain　on　the　ground。　For　the
briefest　instant；　Katz　saw　the　wet　heart　held　up　in　front　of　him；　gripped　by　the　sharp　manipulators　at
the　steel　tentacle’s　tip。
Then　true　darkness　closed　over　him；　a　darkness　his　augmented　eyes　couldn’t　possibly　pierce。
He　didn’t　feel　anything　when　his　body　hit　the　floor。
The　three　tech…priests　returned　to　the　light　and　noise　of　the　Cadian　vehicles　just　as　the　preparations
to　move　out　were　drawing　to　an　end。　The　wounded　had　been　stitched　and　bandaged　and　gathered
into　trucks。　Those　who　were　beyond　medical　help　were　given　the　painless　death　of　lethal　injection。
In　a　brief；　hurried　ceremony；　their　souls　were　commended　to　the　Emperor’s　side　by　a　hard…faced
confessor　from　the　88th。　The　supplies　freed　up　by　their　deaths　would　help　the　rest　of　the　force　last
that　little　bit　longer。　Vehicles　were　refuelled　and　rearmed。　Troops　were　fed　and　watered；　and　the
whole　expedition　force　awaited　only　the　command　of　General　deViers　to　leave　the　ruins　of　Dar　Laq
behind　them　and　head　back　to　the　surface；　to　the　open　air　and　the　daylight。
For　the　most　part；　the　troops　were　eager　to　put　this　unholy　place　behind　them。
Only　Gerard　Bergen　prayed　for　a　delay。　His　ever…faithful　adjutant　had　not　returned　from　his
mission。　When　Bergen　saw　the　three　tech…priests　walking　towards　their　Chimera；　he　charged　over　to
them。
“Where　have　you　been？”　he　demanded。
Magos　Sennesdiar　turned　to　face　him。
“Recovering　samples　of　metal；”　he　said；　lifting　a　piece　he　had　taken　from　one　of　the　derelict
towers。　“I’m　certain　that　a　proper　study　of　it　will　be　of　great　benefit　to　the　Imperium。”
Bergen　squinted　up　into　the　shadows　under　the　magos’　hood。
“You　haven’t　seen　my　adjutant？”　he　asked。　“I　sent　him　personally　to　bring　you　back。　The
general　will　be　issuing　the　order　to　move　out　any　minute　now。”
The　magos　bowed。　“I　am　grateful　that　you　thought　of　us。　You　are　a　man　of　fine　character；　major
general。　Alas；　we　did　not　see　your　adjutant。　We　encountered　no　living　soul　during　our　explorations。
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Dar　Laq　is　a　dead　place。　There　is　much　to　study　here。　The　Mechanicus　may　visit　again　once　this
planet　is　returned　to　Imperial　control；　but；　for　now；　we　must　prepare　for　our　egress。　Excuse　us。”
Bergen　watched　the　trio　of　cloaked　figures　move　off。
Had　Katz　simply　got　lost？　No。　That　couldn’t　be　it。　Bergen　had　tried　raising　him　on　the　vox；　but
there　was　no　response。　Damn　it　all；　he　thought；　there’s　no　way　deViers　will　delay　leading　us　out　of
here　for　a　single　missing　man。　If　I　know　the　old　bastard　half　as　well　as　I　think　I　do；　he　wouldn’t　even
wait　for　Major　Gruber。
Bergen　turned　and　marched　back　to　Pride　of　Caedus；　determined　to　plead　with　the　general
anyway。　The　Chimera’s　engine　was　idling　noisily；　like　those　of　the　vehicles　around　her。
Sure　enough；　the　general　told　Bergen　he　could　not；　and　would　not；　order　everyone　to　stand　down
because　of　one　missing　man。　Had　it　been　Bergen　out　there；　deViers　insisted；　it　would　have　been
another　matter　entirely；　but　a　mere　lieutenant？
DeViers　gave　the　order　to　move　out。　Drivers　began　revving　their　engines；　filling　the　air　with
blue　clouds　of　exhaust。　Then；　one　by　one；　they　began　to　move　off　through　the　eerie；　lifeless　streets；
their　headlights　chasing　off　the　shadows　as　they　headed　towards　the　tunnel　on　the　far　side　of　the
cavern。
Bergen　stood　in　his　cupola　the　entire　time；　eyes　facing　out　into　the　darkness　on　the　north　side；
heart　pounding　in　his　chest；　almost　sick　with　emotion。　It　was　far　worse　than　grief。　It　felt　like
betrayal。
“I’m　sorry；　Jarryl；”　he　muttered　beneath　his　rebreather。　“I’m　so　sorry；　my　friend。”
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CHAPTER　TWENTY…NINE
It　was　two　hours　after　dawn　when　the　remnants　of　General　deViers’　expedition　force　emerged　from
the　cool　darkness　of　the　tunnel　into　the　baking　heat　of　the　Golgothan　morning。　They　were　halfway
up　the　east　face　of　a　mountainside；　but　the　landscape　beyond　was　largely　shielded　from　view。　Sharp
fingers　of　rock　thrust　upwards　on　every　side；　forcing　the　Cadians　to　follow　a　single　treacherous　path；
the　only　route　wide　and　shallow　enough　to　accommodate　sixty…tonners　like　the　Leman　Russ　tanks。
The　clouds　were　low　overhead；　a　churning　mix　of　orange；　red　and　brown。　Gusting　winds　pulled
curtains　of　dust　across　the　slopes。　By　midday；　however；　the　winds　dropped　to　a　hot　breeze。　Tall
rocks　and　ridges　still　confounded　the　view。　Privately；　some　of　the　Cadians　almost　regretted　leaving
Dar　Laq。　Alien　or　not；　the　temperature　had　been　more　to　their　liking。　The　air　there　hadn’t　seared
their　lungs。
The　mountain　trail　took　them　down　onto　more　manageable　ground；　and　additional　vehicles
moved　up　from　the　rear　to　support　the　vanguard。　The　column　began　moving　in　a　meandering　line
along　a　series　of　low　rocky　gullies。　Sandstone　hills　rose　on　all　sides；　but　it　wasn’t　long　before　the
Cadians　noticed　something　amiss。　The　sky　beyond　the　next　rise　was　darker　than　it　was　elsewhere；
stained　with　copious　amounts　of　smoke。
General　deViers　ordered　scouts　to　investigate　further；　and　small　groups　of　Sentinels　lurched　off；
careful　to　keep　low　so　that　they　presented　no　silhouettes　above　the　hill…line。　Minutes　later；　the　scout
leader　called　back　to　recommend　that　the　general　halt　the　column　and　come　in　person　to　the　forward
observation　point。　He　had　found　the　source　of　the　smoke。
Bergen　lay　on　his　belly　with　his　magnoculars　pressed　to　his　eyes；　scanning　the　scene　before　him；
uncaring　of　the　fact　that　his　uniform　was　filthy　with　red　dust。　A　dozen　officers　on　either　side　of　him
lay　in　similar　positions；　muttering　and　cursing　at　the　focus　of　their　attention。
Beyond　the　rise；　the　land　was　broad　and　open；　gently　curving　upwards　on　either　side。　The
Cadians　were　looking　down　into　a　huge　crater；　a　volcanic　caldera　ten　kilometres　across。　The　volcano
was　long　dead；　but　at　its　centre　sat　the　source　of　the　dark　smoke。
“Millions　of　them；”　said　Killian；　lying　on　Bergen’s　right。　“There　must　be　millions　of　them。”
“A　hundred　thousand　at　the　most；”　said　Rennkamp。
“Either　way；”　said　Killian；　“we’re　still　heavily　outnumbered。”
Bergen　couldn’t　really　decide　what　he　was　looking　at。　Either　it　was　the　ork　equivalent　of　a　town；
or　it　was　simply　the　biggest　collection　of　scrap　metal　he　had　ever　seen。　Finally；　he　decided　it　was
both；　and　in　equal　parts。　Heaps　of　rusting　armour　plate　and　twisted　girders　rose　a　hundred　metres
into　the　air；　the　most　prominent　feature　of　the　scene　before　him。　Here　and　there；　ruined　vehicles
poked　their　noses　out；　some　recognisable　as　the　crumpled　remnants　of　Chimera　APCs　and　Leman
Russ　tanks；　others　not　so　familiar。
Wreckage　from　the　Golgothan　War；　thought　Bergen。　For　thirty…eight　years　they’ve　scavenged
the　old　battlefields　and　brought　it　all　back　here。　Was　this　the　place　where　Thraka　constructed　his　war
machines　for　the　assault　on　Armageddon？　Was　The　Fortress　of　Arrogance　brought　here？
He　hardly　dared　to　hope　that　it　was　still　here　today。　The　old　certainty　that　deViers　would　never
find　his　prize　was　still　strong。　Peering　hard　through　the　lenses　of　his　magnoculars；　he　struggled　to
find　anything　even　approximating　the　profile　of　the　famous　Baneblade。
No；　nothing　came　close。
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Perhaps　they　took　it　off…world；　he　thought。　Here　we　are　desperately　searching　for　her　on
Golgotha　so　that　we　might　repair　her　and　ship　her　to　Armageddon；　and　the　blasted　orks　have
probably　moved　her　there　already！
He　zoomed　in　on　a　pair　of　massive　cylindrical　structures　at　the　southern　edge　of　the