Double Eagle(科幻战争)-第42部分

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were　open　to　the　sky。
The　Thunderbolts　of　Umbra　Flight　waited；　lined　up　in　three　ranks　facing　the　south。　Fitter　teams
were　disengaging　the　last　of　the　cables　and　fuelling　lines；　and　whirring　elevator　platforms　carried　the
empty　munitions　trolleys　down　to　lower　levels。
Cordiale　and　Del　Ruth　were　already　with　their　planes。　Blansher　ran　out　across　the　gratings　of　the
deck；　reading　a　wafer　of　printout　paper。
“Air　cover；　evac　protection！”　he　shouted。　“Immediate　launch；　track　six…nine…two；　no　higher　than
two　thousand。”
There　was　a　chorus　of　acknowledgements　and　the　pilots　dropped　into　their　cockpits。　The　chief
fitter　of　each　plane　crew　made　sure　his　pilot　was　secure；　closed　the　canopy　then　signalled　to　the
primer　technician　to　start　as　he　jumped　off　the　wing。　Each　primer　cart　fired　and　the　Thunderbolt
engines　began　to　turn　over。　Within　moments；　the　engine　noise　in　the　enclosed　space　was　so　loud　that
it　drowned　out　the　screeching　hooters。
Deck　crews　with　goggles　and　ear　protectors　took　up　position　in　front　of　the　formation；　directing
with　lumin　paddles。　Signal　to　go。
In　the　front　rank　were　Blansher　and　Ranfre。　Behind　them；　Marquall；　Cordiale　and　Del　Ruth。　The
third　rank　was　Van　Tull　and　Zemmic。　The　flight　rose　up　in　a　swaying　hover　almost　simultaneously。
The　deck　chief　swung　both　his　lumin　paddles　together　and　pointed；　then　dropped　down　onto　one
knee；　head　down　in　a　braced　position　as　the　front　rank　rushed　out　over　him；　swiftly　followed　by　the
second　and　the　third。
They　came　out　into　the　open；　exiting　the　hangar　through　a　rectangular　slot　in　the　sheer　cliff　face。
The　sea　was　two　hundred　metres　below　them。　The　seven　machines　immediately　started　to　turn　and
come　onto　their　track。
The　sky　was　greenish…blue　with　two…tenths　of　long；　wispy　cloud。　The　sea　was　a　richer；　more
intense　green。　Lucerna　Island　dropped　away　behind　them；　a　plateau　of　craggy　pink　granite　jutting
out　of　the　water。　Marquall　could　see　the　AA　defences　nested　in　the　cliffs　and　on　the　headlands。　Two
more　flights　of　Thunderbolts　were　coming　up　after　Umbra　from　other　hangar　mouths。　Far　below；　he
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could　see　the　masses　of　shipping　and　barges　that　had　been　arriving　at　the　island’s　jetties　for　the　last
twelve　hours。
They　climbed　higher；　steady。　Marquall　adjusted　his　nitrous　mix　carefully。　He　watched　the
formation　around　him；　and　kept　his　eyes　on　the　auspex　returns　of　the　other　Thunderbolt　wings　that
were　running　below　and　behind　them。　From　this　altitude；　he　could　see　out　across　the　range　of　the
Midwinter　Islands；　an　archipelago　of　pink　atolls　that　filled　nearly　seven　hundred　thousand　square
kilometres　of　ocean　at　the　eastern　end　of　the　Zophonian　Sea。　It　was　to　the　larger　of　these　islands；
places　like　Lucerna　which　had　airbases　and　ports；　that　the　majority　of　the　planes；　transports　and
extraction　barges　from　Theda　had　fled。
The　islet…speckled　sea　below　him　was　full　of　shipping；　powering　east　towards　safe　ports　in　the
island　chain。　The　auspex　was　also　alive　with　air　contacts。　A　few　Imperial　machines　were　still
heading　in　from　the　mainland　retreat；　but　the　rest　of　the　activity　was　Navy　wings；　coming　back　out
of　their　new　island　bases　to　guard　sea　convoys　or　hunt　for　Archenemy　intruders。　Marquall　could　see
the　patterns　of　a　large　dogfight　going　on；　twelve　kilometres　south　of　them；　and　another；　more
condensed；　nineteen　kilometres　to　the　south…west。　To　the　east；　there　was　a　progressive　intercept　on　a
bomber　formation；　and　another　large　air…brawl；　down　at　low　level　amongst　the　islands。
Visually；　the　southern　horizon　line　was　a　smudged　belt　of　black；　at　odds　with　the　clarity　of　the
clean　sky　and　the　sparkling　sea。　That　was　the　smoke　line；　the　vapour　of　death　and　destruction　that
crowned　the　Thedan　coast　for　hundreds　of　kilometres。　The　filthy　mark　of　the　Archenemy；　branded
across　his　newly…taken　territory。
Blansher　called　them　to　focus。　They　were　closing　on　the　designated　target。　A　convoy　of　thirtyseven
mass…barges　and　VTRPs　out　of　St　Chryze　was　moving　up　one　of　the　archipelago’s　clear…water
channels；　under　attack　from　enemy　raiders。
“Brief　said　sixty…plus　bats；”　Blansher　voxed。
“I　have　visual　on　the　convoy；”　reported　Ranfre。
“Copy　that。”
Down　through　the　clouds；　the　mighty　vessels　were　now　in　plain　view。　Some　were　staining　the　air
with　trails　of　exhaust　smoke　from　their　turbines；　but　others　were　pouring　out　cones　of　black　and
white　smoke。
“Auspex　contacts；”　Del　Ruth　reported。　“Two　groups　of　hostiles。　One　high　at　six　thousand；
circling；　the　other　low；　crossing　the　convoy。”
Marquall　checked　his　own　auspex　screen　and　got　a　similar　report。　Multiple　contacts　were　milling
around　the　surface　vessels　like　flies　around　a　wound。　He　could　even　see　them　now；　lime　flitting　dots
against　the　sea；　catching　the　sunlight。
“Umbra　Leader　to　other　flights。　The　contacts　showing　high　could　be　a　second　wave　of　attack
planes　waiting　their　turn　to　come　in；　or　they　could　be　top　cover。　Suggest　Umbra　and　Sabre　go　in
after　the　raiders；　Cobalt　stays　high　to　watch　for　fighters。”
The　split　made　sense。　Sabre　Flight；　part　of　the　333rd　Navy　wing；　was　short　four　machines；　and
so　under…strength　like　Umbra。　Cobalt；　also　part　of　the　333rd；　was　twelve　strong。
“Umbra；　this　is　Cobalt　Lead。　Acknowledged。”
“Umbra　Leader；　Sabre　will　comply。”
“Stoop　and　sting；”　Blansher　ordered。
The　two　flights　committed　down；　rolling　off　from　the　front　of　the　formation　to　the　rear　in　a
formal　cascade。　Marquall　tried　to　keep　his　breathing　even　as　the　power　dive　began。　He　switched　on
the　targeters　and　lit　his　gunsight。　Guns　on；　las　selected。
The　glittering　water　was　coming　up　fast。
He　saw　the　great　black　hulks　of　the　convoy　vessels；　trailing　wakes　of　white　water；　and　the　tall；
thin　spurts　of　foam　around　them　where　detonations　were　hitting　the　sea。　And　there　were　the　bats；
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streaking　in　on　horizontal　approaches　against　the　sides　of　the　ships；　attacking　with　rockets　and
cannon。
They　were　Hell　Talons；　painted　in　various　red；　black　and　coral…pink　shades。
The　Thunderbolts　tore　into　the　mob　of　them。　For　a　second；　there　were　aircraft　and　gunfire　tracks
going　in　all　directions　around　Marquall。　He　pulled　the　stick　back　slightly　and　brought　Nine…Nine　up
level。　A　Talon　swept　by；　heading　across　onto　one　of　the　barges；　and　Marquall　banked　around　after　it。
It　started　to　fire；　churning　up　a　track　of　impacts　across　the　water　towards　the　barge’s　hull；　and
Marquall　opened　fire　too。　He　missed；　but　the　Talon　broke　off　to　starboard；　trying　to　get　out　of　his
cone　of　fire。
Marquall　didn’t　manage　to　turn　as　tightly　and　overshot　the　barge；　passing　briefly　through　the
clouds　of　smoke　it　was　emitting。　He　turned　the　plane’s　nose　and　saw　the　Talon　climbing　furiously；
so　did　likewise。
Two　Thunderbolts；　wearing　the　combat　blue　of　the　333rd；　shot　past　him；　both　chasing　Talons。
Then　a　red　Talon　swept　in　and　Marquall　had　to　roll　out　stiffly　to　avoid　it。　A　wash　of　bright　tracers；
snaking　and　rippling　like　a　wind…blown　streamer；　crossed　past　his　right　wing　tip。　Marquall　rolled
again　and　saw　a　black　Talon　zip　under　him。　He　inverted；　falling　after　it；　and　dropping　low　to　bob
back　up　on　its　tail。　The　Talon　tried　to　turn　but　he　stuck　with　it；　watching　its　ducts　for　the　tell…tale
swivel　that　announced　a　sideslip　viff。　The　Talon　rolled　left；　then　right；　but　it　couldn’t　shake　him。　He
got　a　lock…tone　but　before　he　could　fire；　two　machines　went　past　in　the　opposite　direction；　so　fast　he
had　no　time　to　identify　them；　so　hard　their　jet　wash　rocked　him　out　of　line。
More　throttle。　The　Talon　was　extending　slightly。　It　tried　a　little　viff　but　Marquall　held　on　right。
Lock…tone　for　the　second　time。　He　fired。
He　hit　it。　Buckled　pieces　of　plating　flew　off。　But　it　wasn’t　a　clean　kill。　The　Talon　rose；　finding
speed　in　desperation。
“No　you　don’t…”　said　Marquall。
Suddenly；　the　air　lit　up　around　him。　A　rain　of　las…fire。
“Umbra　Flight！　Break！　The　bastards　are　above　us！”
It　was　Blansher’s　voice。　Marquall　broke　high；　somehow　coming　out　of　the　blizzard　of　shots
unscathed。
“Umbra　Flight；　Umbra　Flight！　Bats　at　eleven。　Climb　like　hell！”
Marquall　looked　about　desperately　and　saw　twenty　or　more　Hell　Razors　diving　in　through　the
dogfight。　Either　Cobalt　Flight　had　screwed　up　completely　and　let　them　through；　or　these　were
newcomers　to　the　brawl。
Marquall　came　up　fast；　gripped　by　the　heavy　G。　He　couldn’t　even　see　the　black　Talon　any　more
and　cursed　his　own　luck。　He’d　come　so　close。
He　saw　Zemmic　diving　past；　nose　cone　lit　up　in　a　blaze　of　gunfire。　The　Talon　he　was　after
started　to　spin　and　then　lost　something—probably　coolant—in　a　gush　of　fluid。　It　fell　into　the　sea　like
a　stone。
Marquall　looped　and　saw　two　green　Razors　turning　out　wide　over　another　of　the　barges。　He
knew　if　he　pulled　away　they’d　be　after　his　tail；　so　he　went　straight　in　for　a　frontal　attack。　Coming
head　to　head；　the　closing　speed　was　alarming。　Marquall　fired　and　saw　shots　burning　back　his　way。
The　Razors　shook　past。　He　had　no　idea　if　he’d　hit　anything。
To　the　west　of　him　there　was　a　blue　Thunderbolt；　one　engine　on　fire　descending　slowly　on　a
long；　lazy　curve。　A　brief　puff　of　white　erupted　as　it　hit　the　water。
A　glance　right。　Del　Ruth　and　Ranfre；　locked　in　a　barrelling　acrobatic　tumble　with　three　Razors。
The　machines　kept　trying　to　turn　in　under　each　other；　jockeying　to　get　on　the　six。　Ranfre　was　firing
and　his　chosen　target　viffed　out　of　the　tangle　so　frantically　it　rammed　its　wingman。　The　colliding
machines　exploded　in　the　air。　Del　Ruth　and　Ranfre　broke　and　blasted　on　past。　The　remaining　bat
screamed　out　the　other　way。
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Marquall　was　on　it　immediately。　He　came　round　on　its　seven；　let　off　a　burst；　then　a　second。　The
bat　plunged。　For　a　moment；　Marquall　thought　he’d　stung　it；　but　it　was　simply　viffing　out　hard　to
switch　onto　his　tail。　Nine…Nine　shuddered　and　bucked　as　it　was　hit。　Marquall　pulled　a　violent
evasive　turn。　The　bat　shot　past　and　away。
“Umbra　Eight。　Are　you　okay？”
Marquall　checked　the　instruments。　No　critical　warning　lights　had　come　on。　“This　is　Eight。　I’m
okay。”
“Eight；　this　is　Lead。　You’re　trailing　fluid。　I　think　it’s　hydraulics。　Break　off　and　head　for　home；
do　you　copy？”
Marquall’s　heart　sank。　“Copy　that；　Lead。　I　am　breaking　off。”
By　the　time　he　began　his　approach　to　Lucerna；　Marquall　could　feel　the　damage　by　the　way
Double　Eagle　was　handling。　He　lined　up　on　the　transponder　signal；　and　made　a　good　landing　in
hangar　three　via　the　north　entry。
Racklae　got　him　out。　The　chief　fitter’s　head　was　bandaged。　The　transport　that　had　got　him　out　of
Theda　had　been　attacked；　and　he’d　been　sliced　by　shrapnel。
They　inspected　the　damage　to　Nine…Nine。
“Superficial　mostly；”　said　Racklae；　“but　you’ve　taken　a　hit　to　the　hydraulics。”
“It　didn’t　show　on　the　instruments。”
“Sometimes　it　doesn’t；　sir。　But　I’ll　check　your　critical　indicator　too。　Any　luck；　by　the　way？”
“No；”　said　Marquall。　He　didn’t　have　the　heart　to　admit　he’d　come　so　close　on　two　only　to　lose
both。　“Still　shaking　off　the　jinx。”
Lucerna　Processing；　16。30
“Put　simply；”　said　the　Munitorum　senior。　“You’re　dead。”
“Well；　I　hate　to　fly　in　the　face　of　facts…”　Viltry　began。
“Don’t　worry；”　said　the　senior。　“I’ll　just　run　it　again。　Could　you　check　the　details　as　I　have
them？”
Viltry　l