Double Eagle(科幻战争)-第31部分

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to　locate　one　or　more　of　the　enemy　land　carriers。　Given　the　terrible　strength　of　the　raids　now　being
suffered；　it　was　presumed　that　several　mass　carriers　were　currently　established　in　the　Northern
Desert；　and　Operations　clearly　longed　to　be　able　to　steer　in　Marauder　strikes　to　ease　the　ferocity　of
the　bombing　campaign。
Word　was　that　not　a　single　town　or　city　along　the　Littoral　and　the　Peninsula　remained
untouched。　Quite　apart　from　the　huge　armour　and　troop　evacuation　taking　place　on　the　seacoast；　a
vast　civilian　exodus　had　also　begun。　Deprived　for　the　most　part　of　sea　transit　or　Munitorum　aid；　the
citizens　of　the　Littoral　were　fleeing　west　towards　Ingeburg　and　the　Northern　Affiliation　in　vast；
haphazard　caravans。　Reports　of　the　public　panic　and　mayhem　were　filtering　through。　Several
civilian　convoys　had　been　hit。　The　losses　were　so　distressing；　Jagdea　couldn’t　bring　herself　to　repeat
what　she’d　read　to　the　pilots　and　crews　of　Umbra。
Three　recon　Lightnings　were　to　go　up　on　a　wide　track；　with　a　trio　of　Thunderbolts　riding
shotgun。　According　to　dispersal　rotation；　this　escort　was　due　to　be　provided　by　the　Raptors。　Blaguer
himself　was　slated　to　fly；　but　he　clearly　felt　uneasy　about　what　Jagdea　might　try　to　pull　if　he　was
absent　from　the　FSB。　Blaguer　suggested　that；　if　she　was　so　keen　to　get　airborne；　the　Phantine　might
take　the　job。
Jagdea　saw　through　his　ploy；　and　knew　Umbra　would　be　better　served　if　she　stayed。　She
declined；　citing　the　damage　her　Thunderbolt　had　sustained　on　the　last　sortie。　In　truth；　it　had　already
been　fully　repaired　by　her　devoted　techs；　but　they　knew　what　to　tell　Blaguer　if　he　asked；　and
deliberately　removed　serial　Zero…Two’s　cowling　to　act　out　a　pantomime　of　repair　work。　Jagdea　sent
Asche　in　her　place；　with　Waldon　and　Zemmic。
Marquall　could　barely　hide　his　disappointment。　With　Nine…Nine　fixed　and　cleared　for　flight；　he
was　overdue　a　run；　and　should　have　been　chosen　over　either　Zemmic　or　Waldon。
After　the　six　machines　had　launched；　and　the　shimmer　nets　wound　back　into　place；　Jagdea　went
to　find　him。　Marquall　was　in　his　habitent；　playing　regicide　with　Van　Tull。
“Got　a　moment？”　she　asked。
“I’ve　got　things　to　do；　ma’am；”　Van　Tull　said；　and　made　himself　scarce。
“Get　your　flight　suit　on；”　she　said　to　Marquall。　“I’m　moving　you　up　to　snap　call　standby。”
Marquall　nodded；　but　his　expression　was　glum。　“I　should　have　gone　on　the　last　run。　You　know
that。”
“Depends　what　you　mean　by　‘should’；　Vander；”　she　said。　“You　and　Larice　aren’t　the　best　of
friends　right　now。　Keeping　you　out　of　each　other’s　way　is　probably　a　good　idea。”
Marquall　blushed；　but　it　was　largely　anger。　“She—”　he　began。　“I　don’t　know　what　I’ve　done。”
“You　haven’t　known　Larice　long；　Vander。　Not　like　me。　I　know　what　she’s　like。　One　of　the　best
pilots　it’s　been　my　honour　to　fly　with。　But　also…　headstrong；　proud。　Full　of　ambition；　and　a
compulsion　to　prove　herself　all　the　time。　It’s　her　temperament。　To　fly　the　best；　get　the　best　score…
and　be　seen　associating　with　the　hottest　of　her　male　comrades。　You　had　something　there　that　she
liked　the　look　of。　A　reputation　in　the　making。　But　then；　that　mis…launch。”
“I　was　a　laughing　stock。”
“For　about　ten　minutes。　I　haven’t　heard　it　mentioned　since。　But　Larice…　Well；　that　was　a　blow
to　her　pride。　She’d　made　a　show　of　picking　you　as　the　Next　Big　Thing；　and　there　you　were　suddenly；
the　subject　of　scorn。　Now　you　might　wince　and　shrug　it　off；　but　Lance’s　pride　gets　in　the　way。　She
felt　some　of　that　laughter　was　at　her　expense；　and　maybe　it　was。”
“So　she　just　cuts　me？　Freezes　me　out？　Drops　me　as　fast　as　she　latched　onto　me？”
“I’m　afraid　that’s　her　way；”　Jagdea　said。
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“Great；”　Marquall　said。
“Larice　is　strong…　as　a　pilot。　As　a　person；　she’s　unusually　fragile。　I　know　it’s　easy　to　say；
Vander；　but　just　move　on。　There’s　a　war　to　wage。　Another　sortie　or　two；　I’m　certain　you’ll　soon　be
getting　back　in　your　stride；　building　on　the　promise　you’ve　shown。　It　wouldn’t　surprise　me　if　she
became　interested　in　you　all　over　again。”
Marquall　snorted。
“Of　course；　once　bitten…”　Jagdea　smiled。
By　19。00　hours；　as　evening　began　to　drape　across　the　lake；　the　recon　flight　and　its　escort　went
overdue。　Last　transmission　had　been　routine；　forty　minutes　before。　No　vox　response。　Nothing　on　the
auspex　or　modar。
The　pilots　of　Umbra　gathered；　pacing　and　chatting　nervously。　The　mood　in　the　camp；　under　the
claustrophobic　spread　of　the　netting；　became　charged。
“I　want　to　take　a　flight　up。　Combat　air　patrol。　Take　a　look　for　the　missing　planes；”　Jagdea　said　to
Commander　Marcinon。
“Request　denied；”　said　Marcinon。　“For　now；　at　least。　Let’s　not　get　precious。　They’ve　got　an　hour
left　in　their　tanks。”
“Depending　on　how　they’ve　been　flying；”　said　Jagdea。　“One　serious　air　brawl；　and　you　can
halve　that。　I　repeat　my　request。”
They　were　standing　in　the　Operations　room。　Circulation　fans　whined　overhead　and；　by　the　light
of　caged　glow…globes；　Navy　tactical　officers　sat　before　flickering；　empty　displays。
“Anything？”　Marcinon　called。
“Some　activity　in　quadrants　four　and　nine…two；　commander；”　reported　the　chief　operator。
“Enemy　movements；　but　way　off。　Nothing　from　our　flight。”
“They　can’t　all　have　been　stung；”　murmured　Oberlitz；　the　chief　of　the　Lightning　wing；　the　786th；
giving　voice　to　the　private　fear　they　had　all　been　hiding。　Oberlitz　an　with
thin　lips　that　he　licked　as　a　nervous　habit。　Like　Jagdea；　he　was　now　anxious　about　his　crews。　She
had　an　ally　of　sorts　against　Marcinon　and　the　chief　of　the　Raptors。
“I　formally　repeat　my　request；”　said　Jagdea。　“Let　me　get　machines　up　now　before　the　situation
changes　and　we’re　forced　to　lie　low　with　the　nets　sealed。”
Marcinon　looked　at　Blaguer。　Blaguer　nodded。
“Request　granted；”　said　Marcinon。
Jagdea　ran　out　of　the　Operations　block。　The　pilots　had　congregated　outside。　“Blansher！
Marquall！　We’re　up！　Let’s　go！”
Their　machines　were　already　on　the　ramps。　By　the　time　the　three　pilots　had　suited　up　and
checked　their　kit；　the　fitters　had　finished　pre…flight。　Jagdea；　Blansher　and　Marquall　ran　up　to　the
matt…decks　and　the　ground　crews　locked　them　tight　in　their　cockpits。
“Check　back；”　Jagdea　voxed。
“Two；　here。　Four…A。”
“This　is　Eight。　Ready　for　go。”　Marquall　felt　his　heart　rate　climbing。　He　reached　out　and　stroked
the　edge　of　the　main　instrument　panel。　“This　time；　you　hear　me；　Nine…Nine？”　he　whispered。　This
time；　no　games。　No　jinx。　Just　Vander　Marquall　and　Double　Eagle！
The　last　cues　were　chopping　out　from　Operations　over　the　vox。　The　nets　began　to　crank　back。
Buzzer。　Five　seconds。　The　last　of　the　fitter　crew　ran　to　the　cover　of　the　blast　fences。　Marquall　sat
his　thumb　on　the　“rocket　fire”　stud。
“You　are　go；　Umbra　Flight；”　the　vox　announced。　Marquall　squeezed　the　stud　and　gravity
slammed　him　back　into　his　seat。
Over　the　forests；　19。30
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They　climbed　into　the　dusk；　their　burners　the　brightest　things　in　the　air。　The　sky　was　violet；　streaked
with　three…tenths　clouds　ten　kilometres　to　the　west。　Below；　the　forest　sprawled；　almost　black。
“Make　your　height　nine　thousand；　cruising；”　Jagdea　called。　“Track　is　four…four…two。”
“Understood；　Lead；”　said　Blansher。
“Received；”　Marquall　answered。　For　the　first　thirty　seconds　of　the　flight；　he’d　been　watching　the
board；　waiting　for　a　malfunction　light　to　flash　on。　Nothing。　Even　the　engines　sounded　sweet。
In　the　east；　against　the　darkest　part　of　the　sky；　stars　had　begun　to　rise。　Visibility　was　so　good　that
Marquall　could　make　out　distant　flashes　against　the　undercast　in　the　far　north…west；　hundreds　of
kilometres　away；　a　display　like　sheet　lightning　that　he　knew　was　pattern　bombing。
They　flew　south　for　fifteen　minutes；　then　tracked　gently　west。　After　another　slow　twenty
minutes；　Marquall　heard　Blansher’s　call。
“Contact。　Strong；　inbound；　twenty　kilometres。”
He　sent　the　signal　to　the　other　Bolts；　and　their　auspex　systems　tracked　the　lock。
“They’re　under　us；　four　thousand。　Two　groups；”　Jagdea’s　voice　said。　“Stay　at　this　height；　turn
onto　them。　Operations；　are　you　seeing　this？”
“Copy；　Umbra　Lead；　but　with　no　more　detail　than　you’ve　got。”
“Closing。　Weapons　live。　Flight；　stay　tight。”
Another　pause。　Just　the　mighty　throb　of　the　engines　and　the　hiss　of　the　air…mix。
Marquall　stared　down　into　the　darkness　of　the　forest　twilight。　The　contacts　should　have　been
coming　into　visual；　but　it　was　all　too　black。　Wisps　of　night　cloud　were　forming　at　five　thousand　like
banners　of　smoke。
“I　have　transponder　tracks；”　Blansher　called。　“Clean　signals。　It’s　Waldon；　and　at　least　one　of　the
Lightnings。”
“Umbra　Nine；　Umbra　Nine；　this　is　Umbra　Leader　high…side　and　inbound。　Do　you　copy？”
A　squeal　of　static　disrupted　the　channel；　then　they　heard　Waldon’s　voice。　Even　with　the
distortion；　there　was　a　note　of　fear　in　it。　Fear；　or　pain。
“Umbra　Leader；　Umbra　Leader；　this　is　Nine。　Say　again。”
“Coming　in　on　you；　Nine。　What　is　your　situation？”
“Assistance；　assistance！”　another　voice　cut　in；　blotting　Waldon　out。
“Identify；　user；”　Jagdea　called。
“This　is　Spyglass　Four；　Umbra。　Requesting　immediate　assistance。”
One　of　the　Lightnings。　The　pilot　sounded　petrified。
“Situation　please；”　Jagdea　called　again。
Both　the　Lightning　pilot　and　Waldon　attempted　to　answer　at　the　same　time；　and　the　result　was　a
mangle　of　signals。
Marquall　was　still　peering　down。　He　saw　a　glint；　a　faint　trace　of　thruster　flame。　Then；　against　the
blackness；　several　tiny　little　streaks　of　light；　there　and　gone。
“Lead；　this　is　Eight。　Their　situation　is　they’re　under　attack。　I　see　weapons　fire；　repeat；　I　see
weapons　fire。”
“Stoop　and　sting！”　Jagdea　called。
The　three　Thunderbolts　banked　over　and　went　into　a　power　dive。　As　they　closed；　the　jumbled；
merging　auspex　returns　resolved。　There　were　four　machines　below　them。　Waldon；　flying　close　cover
behind　a　Lightning；　and　two　unidentifieds　running　after　them。　Waldon　was　sweeping　his　machine
from　side　to　side。
They　came　in。　The　sky　lit　up　with　gunfire　traces。　Marquall　saw　the　Lightning。　It　had　been　shot
up；　and　was　trailing　long　streamers　of　hot　smoke　that　had　blurred　the　auspex　track。　Waldon　was　at
its　six。
About　seven　hundred　and　fifty　metres　behind　them；　two　Locusts　were　closing　in；　weapons
pumping。
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Waldon’s　bird　took　several　hits。　Metal　spalled　off　it　in　a　spray　that　caught　the　last　of　the
daylight。　Marquall　couldn’t　believe　what　he　was　seeing。　Waldon　was　actually　trying　to　use　his
better…armoured　machine　to　shield　the　struggling　recon　plane。　He　had　never　seen　anything　so
selfless　and—
Espere。　Espere　had　done　the　same　for　Marquall。
“Waldon？”　Jagdea　yelled。
“Ammo　gone；　Lead。　Losing　hydraulic　pressure。”
Ammo　gone。　They　must’ve　been　in　a　hell　of　a　fight。
Blansher　and　Jagdea　had　the　lead；　and　screamed　down　into　the　path　of　the　bats；　which　both
broke　immediately。　Blansher　viffed　out　on　a　good　guess　and　began　to　climb　after　one　of　the　soaring
Locusts。
Unusually；　Jagdea　misjudged；　and　the　other　bat　went　under　her。　It　was　tight；　but　Marquall
managed　to　pull　a　break…turn　and　spill　into　its　roll。　He　fired。　The　forks　of　las…shot　were　incredibly
bright　in　the　low　light。
The　Locust　evaded　and　turned　high。　Marquall　followed　it。　He　was　concentrating　har