Double Eagle(科幻战争)-第15部分

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lasfire　chopped　the　air　behind　it；　but　Gaize　had　held　a　fine　deflection。　The　bat　as　good　as　flew　into
his　bolter　stream。　It　came　apart　in　a　drizzle　of　metal　shards　and　flame；　its　fore…wings　separating　and
spinning　out　like　broken　plate…glass。　Whipping　over　and　under　as　it　tumbled　away；　the　starboard
wing　nearly　hit　Greta’s　tail。
Viltry　sucked　in　his　breath　at　the　near　miss。　“Good　one；　Gaize；”　he　voxed。
Get　Them　All　Back　and　one　of　the　Navy　machines　had　also　scored　good　hits。　A　Hell　Razor　went
into　an　uncontrolled　spin　and　fell　out　of　the　sky；　and　another　pulled　a　wobbly　turn　out　and　began　to
limp　away　west；　making　smoke。
But　it　wasn’t　over　yet。　Another　Navy　Marauder　had　been　hit　and　had　fallen　out　of　formation；
unable　to　keep　up。　And　K　for　Killshot　had　taken　vector　duct　damage。　The　bats　were　coming　in　again；
and　the　auspex　showed　that　another　wave　had　now　joined　them。　Over　in　the　western　sky；　Viltry　saw
a　starburst　flash　as　a　Thunderbolt　detonated。
His　hands　were　shaking　again。　Fate’s　wheel。　Fate’s　wheel。
Turning　closer　every　moment。
Theda　MAB　North；　12。01
Noisy；　chattering；　the　streams　of　Commonwealth　personnel　flooded　out　of　the　station　towards　the
waiting　transports。　All　of　them　carried　kitbags；　or　hefted　crates　in　teams。　They　joked　in　the　sunny
air；　throwing　wisecracks　and　jibes　around。
It　was　a　mask；　a　front。　Bravado。　Darrow　knew　that。　In　a　few　hours；　these　men　would　be　on　their
way　to　rear…line　postings　down　the　coast；　possibly　across　the　sea。　Friendships　would　be　broken；
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comrades　parted　from　one　another。　Out　on　the　concourse；　hundreds　of　silent　Navy　men　waited
around　the　transports　that　had　just　brought　them　in；　ready　to　move　in　and　take　over　as　soon　as　the
Commonwealth　bodies　were　gone。　Darrow　glanced　at　them。　Some　smoked；　others　basked　in　the　sun；
stretched　out　on　the　rockcrete。　Many　stared；　flat；　unfriendly　stares。　If　you’d　done　this　properly；　you
know…　really　fought　for　your　world　properly；　we　wouldn’t　have　to　be　here。
That’s　why　Darrow’s　fellow　staffers　and　crew　were　laughing　and　joking。　They　didn’t　want　to
have　to　look　at　the　Imperials；　hovering　like　vultures　over　a　corpse。
Darrow　felt　like　dropping　his　own　kitbag　and　returning　the　stares。　Supercilious　bastards！　You
think　we　wanted　this？　You　think　we’re　grateful　you　show　up　now？　Go　screw　yourselves。　We　fought
for　Enothis；　we　bled；　we　died。　Thanks　to　us；　it’s　still　here　to　fight　for。　We　did　the　hard　work；　now　you
sweep　in　to　get　the　glory。　And　so　help　me；　you　had　better　get　the　glory。　You　had　better　win；　or…
or…
“Darrow！　Darrow！”
He　turned。　Major　Heckel　had　appeared　on　the　station　steps；　waving　at　him。　He　made　his　way
back　through　the　mass　of　personnel　to　reach　him。
“Congratulations；　sir；”　he　said。
“What？”
“I　saw　you’d　been　posted　to　Quarry　Flight。”
A　muscle　under　Heckel’s　left　eye　ticked　slightly。　“Yes。　Ah；　yes。　Lucky　me。　They’ve　got　to　keep
us　old　hands　going；　I　suppose。”
Heckel　made　a　high…pitched　little　laugh；　a　false　sound。　His　eye　ticked　again。
“You　wanted　me；　sir？”
“Oh；　yes；”　said　Heckel。　He　reached　into　the　pocket　of　his　flight　coat　and　produced　a　docket
wafer。　It　was　sealed。　Darrow’s　name　was　printed　on　the　flap。　Darrow　noticed　how　badly　Heckel’s
hand　was　quaking　as　he　passed　it　to　him。　“This　is　for　you。”
Darrow　tore　open　the　wafer。
“Eads　had　it　sent　down。　I　think　he　was　feeling　sorry　for　you。　It’s　not　active　as　such；　but　he　says
he　hopes　it　will　do。”
“He’s…　he’s　posting　me　to　Operations。　Effective　immediate。”　Darrow　grinned。　Heckel　was
right；　it　wasn’t　active；　but　it　would　mean　he’d　stay　at　Theda；　and　be　part　of　the　real　thing。
“Thanks；”　he　said。
“Just　the　messenger；”　shrugged　Heckel。
“You　put　in　a　good　word；　I’m　sure。”
Heckel　shrugged　again；　but　he　was　grinning　this　time。　Then　his　expression　grew　serious。　“Just
between　you　and　me；　Darrow。　The　enemy　got　airspace　reach　into　the　Lida　Valley　yesterday。　The
schedule’s　really　moved　up。　The　Navy’s　decided　it　needs　local　experts　who　are　familiar　with　the
topography　to　guide　them；　so　they　asked　Eads　to　consult　at　Operations。　He　told　me　he　wanted　a　few
good　bodies　to　assist　him。　I　suggested　you；　and　a　couple　of　others　who’d　been　moved　to　reserve。”
“Thank　you；　sir。　I　really　appreciate　it。”
Heckel　nodded。　“Just　do　a　good　job；　Darrow。”
Darrow　put　down　his　pack　and　saluted　his　former　leader。
“Darrow；”　Heckel　said。　His　face　had　a　strange；　wistful　look。　“Darrow；　do　you　think　they　know
I’m　sorry？”
“Who；　sir？”
“The　cadets。　Hunt　Flight。　Emperor　save　us；　so　many　of　them　died。”
“You　did　everything　you　could；　sir。”
Heckel　breathed　deeply。　“You　know；　Darrow？　That’s　just　what　I’m　afraid　of。”
Heckel　picked　up　his　pack；　patted　Darrow　on　the　arm；　and　hurried　away　towards　the　transports。
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Theda　MAB　South；　15。34
“She’s　jinxed；　isn’t　she？”　Milan　Blansher　said。
“Who’s　that；　sir？”　asked　Hemmen；　the　chief　fitter。　In　the　shadow　of　the　great　hangar；　his　team
was　working　on　the　refit　of　Espere’s　Thunderbolt。　The　air　was　popping　with　the　rattle　of　power
ratchets。
“Her；”　Jagdea　said；　pointing　at　the　wounded　machine。
“Serial　Nine…Nine？”　Hemmen　shook　his　head。　“I　couldn’t　possibly　comment；　mamzel
commander。”
Jagdea　shook　her　head　and　led　Blansher　out　of　the　bam。　The　field　was　clear　apart　from　Umbra
Flight’s　birds；　and　a　thundering　pack　of　Commonwealth　Interceptors　taxiing　for　take…off。
“Espere？”　Blansher　asked。
“Forget　it。　He’ll　be　out　for　months。　And　even　with　augmetics；　he’s　a　wreck。”
“So　we’re　a　man　down？”
“Yes。　I　asked　Navy　reserve；　but　they　said　every　able　pilot　was　committed。　Unless　there’s
suddenly　a　bird　down　and　a　pilot　recovered；　or　a　bird　malfunctioned。　God…Emperor；　Mil；　this
warfront’s　stretched　really　thin。　Every　man；　every　plane；　thrown　in。　I　think　this　could　be　the　big
one。”
“What　do　you　mean？”
“The　decider。　The　Archenemy’s　got　the　Crusade　trapped；　over…extended。　They’re　attacking　here
and　at　Herodor。　That’s　the　latest　news。　Either　planet　falls；　and　the　Crusade　line　gets　beheaded。　Snip；
good　night。　Goodnight　Warmaster　Macaroth。　Goodnight　us；　and　goodnight　Crusade。　If　our　line
breaks　here；　they’ll　be　all　over　us　like　a　bodybag。”
“We’d　better　fly　our　balls　off　then；”　Blansher　said。
She　smiled。　“Speak　for　yourself。”
“How’s　Marquall？”
She　shrugged。　“Still　trying　to　heave　the　soles　of　his　feet　out　through　his　mouth　in　the　shower
block。　I　thought　about　slipping　him　some　detox　tabs；　but　then　I　had　a　bad　attack　of　what　the　hell。　A
crippling　hangover　is　the　Emperor’s　way　of　making　us　remember　our　mistakes。”
“He　blames　himself　for　Espere？”
“Yes；　he　does。”
“Should　he？”　Blansher　asked。
Jagdea　shrugged。　Her　reply　was　totally　drowned　out　by　the　squadron　of　prop　planes　taking　to　the
air。　“Say　again？”　said　Blansher。
“Marquall　screwed　up。　He　flew　like　a　virgin　and　made　just　about　every　mistake　going。　Espere
was　covering　him。　So；　yes…　he　should。　But　he’s　also　a　decent　pilot。　I　know　that。　We　need　him；　and
we　need　him　back；　confident；　learning　from　his　mistakes。”
“I　still　don’t　know　how　you　trawled　him　in；”　Blansher　said。
“Doesn’t　matter。　I　had　help。　Not　the　sort　of　help　I　wanted；　but…　Well；　it　worked。”
Blansher　shrugged。
“I’ll　tell　you　one　day；”　Jagdea　smiled。
“I’m　up　at　18。30；　I　believe；”　Blansher　said。
“And　Larice　is　taking　a　unit　four　out　at　21。40。　I’ll　stand　doentis。”
“Good　flying；”　he　said；　and　jogged　away　to　check　on　his　machine。
I　wish　people　would　stop　saying　that；　Jagdea　thought。
Palace　Pier；　15。50
Night　had　arrived　early　and　a　wan　darkness　had　settled　over　the　sea。　It　looked　as　if　a　storm　was
brewing。　Afternoon　trade　had　been　bad　all　week；　and　now　with　a　gloomy　pall　spreading　in　the　west；
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it　had　dried　up　altogether。　Beqa　sent　Latrice　home；　and　closed　up　early。　It　would　make　a　change。　A
few　extra　hours’　sleep。
She　was　locking　the　cafe　door　when　the　man　appeared。　There　was　a　brisk　wind　coming　off　the
foreshore；　tugging　at　her　coat　and　buffeting　her；　so　she　hadn’t　heard　him　walk　up。
“Oh！”　she　exclaimed；　jumping。　It　was　the　sad…faced　pilot　who’d　never　tasted　shellfish。　He　was
huddled　in　a　heavy　leather　coat。
“Are　you　closed？”　he　asked。
“Ah；　yes；”　she　said；　brushing　wind…tugged　hair　out　of　her　eyes。　“Sorry。　There　was　no　one　around
this　afternoon。　Didn’t　like　the　look　of　the　weather；　I　suppose。”
He　glanced　up　at　the　sky；　as　if　he　hadn’t　really　noticed。　The　first　few　spats　of　rain　were　falling。
“I　understand；”　he　said。　“I　got　a　decent　walk　at　least。　Good　afternoon；　mamzel。”
“Wait；”　she　called　after　him。　Beqa　shook　her　head　at　herself。　She　was　too　soft　for　her　own　good。
“You’re　hungry；　aren’t　you？”
“A　little；”　he　admitted。
She　unlocked　the　door。　“Come　on。　I’ll　make　you　something。”
“But　you’re　closed。”
“I　can　open　again。”
She　had　him　sit　at　the　table　he’d　chosen　the　day　before　while　she　went　behind　the　counter；
turned　on　the　water　heater　and　started　looking　through　the　pantry　bins。　Viltry　noticed　she　didn’t
change　the　card　in　the　window。　The　cafe　was　still　shut　to　others。
“This　is　very　kind　of　you；”　he　called。
“It’s　no　problem。　You　don’t　like　fish；　do　you？”
“I　don’t　really　know。”
“You’re　in　luck。　We　have　some　salt…ham　today。”
The　storm　closed　in；　turning　the　sky　as　dark　as　twilight。　Beqa　turned　on　the　cafe’s　oil…lamps。
Rain　began　to　patter　and　drum　against　the　windows　and　the　skylights；　running　down　them　in　torrents
so　they　seemed　to　be　melting。　The　whole　pier　creaked　gently　as　the　sea　stirred　around　it。
She’d　never　been　out　at　the　pier…end　during　a　storm　before。　It　felt　unnerving；　and　half　of　her
wished　she’d　simply　been　firm　with　him　and　gone　home。　The　whole　place　felt　exposed　and
vulnerable；　alone　amid　the　turbulent　elements。　It　was　like　riding　aboard　some　fragile　craft　though　a
maelstrom。
He　didn’t　seem　the　slightest　bit　bothered。
When　she　brought　his　food　and　drink；　she　sat　down　with　him。
“You’re　an　aviator；　sir？”
“Yes。”　He　took　a　bite。　“This　is　really　very　good。　I　don’t　think　I’d　realised　how　hungry　I　was。”
“Imperial　Navy？”　she　asked。
He　shook　his　head　and　wiped　his　lips　with　a　napkin。　“Sort　of；　I　suppose。　Imperial　Phantine　Air
Corps。　My　name’s　Viltry。　Oskar　Viltry。”
“Beqa　Mayer。”　He　held　out　his　hand　and　shook　hers　courteously。
“Thank　you　for　your　hospitality；　mamzel。　And　act　of　kindness　towards　a　stranger　to　your　world。”
“Seeing　as　you’ve　come　here　to　risk　your　life　fighting　for　my　world；　I　think　a　plate　of　ham　and
bread　is　the　least　I　can　do。”
He　stopped　eating　suddenly　and　frowned。　“I…　I　know　you　from　somewhere；　don’t　I？”
“I　was　here　yesterday。”
“No；　somewhere　else。”
“The　templum；　early　the　other　day。　You　held　the　door　for　me。”
“Yes；　that’s　it。”　An　especially　fierce　gust　of　wind　rattled　the　windows　and　threw　the　rain　against
the　glass　with　renewed　vigour。
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“I　suppose　this　place　will　stand　up　to　a　storm？”　Viltry　asked。
“I　think　it’d　take　a　lot　to　bring　the　palace　down；”　she　replied。
It　was　another　hour　before　the　storm　abated　enough　for　them　to　want　to　risk　a　dash　back　towards
the　town。　Refilling　his　cup；　she　chatted　idly；　to　no　real　point；　as　if　simply　letting　go　of　conversation
that　loneliness　had　dammed　up　inside　her。　Viltry　was　conten