Double Eagle(科幻战争)-第43部分

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“Don’t　worry；”　said　the　senior。　“I’ll　just　run　it　again。　Could　you　check　the　details　as　I　have
them？”
Viltry　looked　over　the　data…slate；　and　handed　it　back。　“That’s　correct。”
The　senior　began　to　enter　the　codes　in　the　large；　brass…levered　cogitator　that　dominated　the
chamber。　Robed　clerks　hurried　in　and　out　of　the　room；　collecting　data…slates　or　depositing　scrollcases
in　the　alphabetised　pigeonholes　along　one　wall。　Viltry　shrugged　apologetically　to　the　man
waiting　in　the　doorway。　He　was　at　the　head　of　a　long；　slow…moving　queue　that　stretched　right　back
down　the　hallway　of　the　Munitorum　complex　and　out　down　the　stairs。　Viltry　had　already　spent　two
hours　in　it。
The　dirt…stained　windows　of　the　chamber　looked　down　onto　one　of　Lucerna’s　giant　docks。　The
scene　was　artificially　lit　by　frosty　blue　lumin　spheres　because　it　was　inside　a　giant　sea　cave；
protected　by　the　overhang　of　the　island　cliffs。　There　was　a　hum　of　industry　outside。　Hoists　clattered；
men　shouted。　The　wharfs　were　lined　with　extraction　barges；　disgorging　hundreds　of　men　and
machines；　crates　and　equipment　onto　the　docks。
“It’s　coming　up　the　same　again；”　the　senior　said。　“Viltry；　Oskar。　Listed　as　killed　in　action　on　the
260th；　along　with　the　rest　of　his　crew。　I’m　afraid　as　far　as　the　records　are　concerned；　you　don’t
exist。”
“And　yet；”　said　Viltry。
“Quite；”　said　the　senior。　“We’re　getting　this　a　lot；　I’m　sorry　to　say。　War　is　not　conducive　to
competent　record　management。　And　the　withdrawal　from　the　Peninsula；　well…　let’s　just　say　whole
sections　of　the　data　archive　are　missing　or　inaccurate。　You　didn’t　fly　in　with　a　unit；　did　you？”
Viltry　sighed。　He’d　been　through　this　four　times：　once　to　the　wharfinger；　once　to　a　junior　clerk
in　the　downstairs　annexe　who　was　running　a　kind　of　logistical　triage　on　the　influx　of　refugees；　and
once　already　to　this　man。
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“I’ve　been　detached　from　operations　for　over　a　week　since　my　flight　went　down　in　the　desert。　I
made　it　back　to　the　coast　as　part　of　a　retreat　column　and　then　reached　Theda。　I　just　got　on　a　barge。
Whatever　was　available。　Things　were　pretty　wild。　I’m　travelling　with　a　woman。”
“Your　wife？”
“No—”
“Fiancee？”
“No；　sir—”
“But　there　is　an　attachment？”
Viltry　shrugged。　“Yes；　we　left　the　city　together。　She　needed　to　get　out　too。　The　Blood　Pact　was
everywhere。　I　couldn’t　leave　her。　I　wasn’t　going　to　leave　her。”
“Where　is　she　now？”
“She　went　to　civilian　processing。　I　had　to　come　here。　Military。　I　hope　she’s　secured　a　place　in　a
refuge。”
“I’m　sure　she’s　fine。”
Viltry　cleared　his　throat。　“Sir；　I　just　want　to　rejoin　my　wing。　I　don’t　even　know　where　they　are。”
“Well；　not　here　at　Lucerna；　I’m　afraid。　Actually；　I　can’t　tell　you　where　the　Phantine　XX　is。　More
gaps　in　the　record。”
“Can’t　you　just…　correct　your　data？”　Viltry　asked。
“Not　that　simple；　I’m　sorry　to　say。　Once　the　records　say　you’re　dead；　I’m　not　allowed　to　argue
with　it。　The　best　I　can　do　is　register　you　as　pending。”
“What　does　that　mean？”
“It　means　I　have　many　thousands　of　new　arrivals　to　process；　disperse　and　reassign　as　quickly　as
possible；　and　I　can’t　afford　to　spend　several　hours　now　trying　to　correct　your　listing。”　The　senior
took　up　a　stylus　and　filled　in　a　paper　docket　which　he　then　stamped　a　number　of　times。
“This　is　a　temporary　document　of　registration。　It　officially　recognises　your　presence　here　at　the
base；　and　clears　you　to　receive　accommodation；　food　and　so　on。”
Viltry　looked　at　it。　“It　doesn’t　even　have　my　name　on　it。　Or　my　service　number。”
“Of　course　it　doesn’t。　If　I　register　you　by　your　name　or　service　number；　the　system　will　reject
you。　This　is　a　new　number；　freshly　issued；　so　the　system　can　accept　you。　Come　back　in　a　few　days。
Once　the　pressure’s　died　down；　I　promise　I’ll　attend　to　your　case　with　all　urgency。　That’s　the　best　I
can　do　right　now。”
“Very　well；”　said　Viltry。
Clutching　the　docket；　he　walked　out　of　the　chamber。　“Next！”　the　senior　called；　and　the　next　in
line　hurried　forward。
Viltry　wandered　away　down　the　busy；　rock…cut　hallway。　Fate　had　got　him　after　all。
Oskar　Viltry　was　dead；　and　he　was　just　an　anonymous　body　with　a　number。
Lucerna　AB；　19。17
Blansher　walked　out　onto　the　hangar　decking。　The　pilots　of　Umbra；　kitted　up；　were　waiting　in　a
group　near　the　parked　machines　where　the　fitters　were　working　hard；　repairing　the　damage　to
Marquall’s　machine；　and　patching　hits　taken　by　Del　Ruth　and　Zemmic。　It　had　been　a　furious　brawl；
and　had　continued　for　another　fifteen　minutes　after　Marquall’s　departure。　Zemmic　had　bagged　one；
Van　Tull　another　and　Blansher　two。　Despite　struggling　with　her　adopted　and　repainted　Firedrake
machine；　complaining　she　couldn’t　get　used　to　the　damn　thing；　Aggie　Del　Ruth　had　also　scored　a
good　kill。　The　Thunderbolts　had　finally　driven　the　bats　away　from　the　convoy　at　around　13。30。
Blansher　raised　his　hand。　“A　little　quiet；　please；　Mr　Racklae？”
Racklae　obliged；　and　the　sound　of　rivet　guns　and　power　drivers　stopped。
“What　is　this；　Lead？”　Zemmic　asked。　“A　snap　call？”
Blansher　smiled。　Very　quietly；　he　said；　“Officer　on　deck。”
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Bree　Jagdea　walked　up　out　of　the　dispersal　tunnel　and　came　across　the　floor　towards　them。
She’d　had　a　shower；　medical　check　and　an　issue　of　clean　clothes；　but　the　flight　jacket　was　still　her
old；　battered　original。
There　was　a　moment　of　disbelief。　Then　the　pilots　and　the　fitters　began　whooping　and　clapping。
Del　Ruth　ran　forward　and　hugged　Jagdea。　Van　Tull　shook　her　by　the　hand。　The　others　all　grouped
around。
“As　you　were；　Umbra；”　she　said。
The　clamouring　died　down　a　little。
“Good　to　see　you　too；　wing；”　she　smiled。
“We　prayed　you’d　make　it　to　an　evac；”　Del　Ruth　said。
“Actually；　that’s　not　quite　how　it　happened；”　Jagdea　replied。
“Then　how　in　Terra’s　name　did　you　get　here；　commander？”　asked　Ranfre。
“You　wouldn’t　believe　me　if　I　told　you。　Okay；　okay！　Quieten　down！　I　will　tell　you。　Later。　For
now；　I　want—”
She　paused　and　glanced　at　Blansher。　“I　apologise；　Umbra　Leader；”　she　said。　“I　quite　forgot
myself。”
He　grinned。　“For　the　record；　Acting　Wing　Leader　Blansher　hands　command　to　Bree　Jagdea；
19。18　hours。”
“I　accept　command；”　she　said。　“And　also　for　the　record；　may　I　commend　your　leadership　in　my
absence；　and　also　extend　my　highest　compliments　to　the　pilots　and　crew　for　their　sustained　work。
You　may　applaud　yourselves　loudly。”
And　they　did。
“Right；”　she　continued　when　the　ruckus　abated。　“I　want　the　flight　ready　to　go　in　an　hour。
Combat　patrol。　Manageable；　Mr　Racklae？”
“Yes；　ma’am！”
“Excellent。　We’ll　go　up；　two　hour　sweep；　then　down。　Snap　calls　permitting；　I　want　everyone
rested　overnight。　No　card　schools；　no　drinking。　We’ll　be　going　again　early。　I’ve　met　with　the　base
commander；　Vice　Air　Marshal　Dreyco；　and　I’m　appraised　of　the　situation。　This　is　how　it　stands；　and
if　I’m　blunt；　you’ll　forgive　me。　The　forces　of　the　Archenemy　have；　as　you　are　well　aware；　stormed
the　southern　Littoral。　According　to　Tactical；　they　hold　the　coast　from　Theda　through　to　Ezraville。
Despite　our　best　efforts　to　maintain　air　superiority　over　that　area；　they　have　beaten　us　back　into　the
sea。”
Jagdea　looked　around　at　their　faces。　All　of　them　looked　grim。
“We　could　not　have　predicted　their　air　power；　nor　the　efficiency　with　which　they　advanced　their
mass…carriers　to　extend　strike　range。　Nor　could　we　have　countered　the　manner　in　which　their
bombing　campaign　paved　the　way　for　drop　deployment　of　Blood　Pact　ground　forces。　They
outplayed　us；　it’s　as　simple　as　that。”
She　took　off　her　flight　jacket　and　hung　it　from　the　claws　of　a　power　lifter。　The　cavern　air　was
humid。　Her　arm　was　out　of　its　sling　now；　though　it　was　still　packed　with　dressing　pads。
“But　understand　this；”　she　continued。　“Our　efforts—and　the　lives　of　our　comrades　in　this　unit
and　the　Navy　at　large—were　not　wasted。　We　held　them。　We　delayed　them。　Face　it；　all　we　ever
hoped　to　do　was　delay　them。　We　bought　the　land　forces　time　to　get　clear。　As　I　speak；　extraction
convoys　are　sailing　north　across　the　Zophonian　Sea；　heading　for　the　main　islands　there　or　the
northern　coast　itself。　Reports　say　large　elements　of　armour　and　infantry　are　crossing　the　Festus　by
land　on　the　way　to　the　Commonwealth　fortress　hives　at　Ingeburg。　We’ve　made　it　possible　for　a
considerable　portion　of　the　Imperial　land　army　to　get　clear　of　the　war　zone。　Now　they　can　regroup
and　prepare　to　stage　a　counter…attack。　Reinforcements　are　en　route　from　the　Khan　Stars。　Due　in　eight
days。　The　Imperium　is　on　the　back　foot；　but　Enothis　is　far　from　lost。
“There’s　always　a　chance；”　she　added。
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“There’s　gonna　be　a　“but’；　isn’t　there？”　said　Cordiale。
Jagdea　nodded。　“Naturally；　pilot。　Whoever　said　the　life　of　an　Imperial　combat　flier　would　be
easy？”
“The　aviation　recruiter　back　in　scholam；”　said　Ranfre；　and　raised　a　laugh。
“The　enemy　has　driven　us　into　the　sea；”　said　Jagdea。　“But　the　sea　is　our　secret　weapon。　We’ve
got　the　islands。　Navy　wings　are　regrouping　here　at　Lucerna；　at　Onstadt；　Viper　Atoll；　Longstrand；
Salthaven；　and　also　on　the　hive　islands　of　Zophos　and　Limbus。　Long　range　squadrons　have　taken
station　on　the　northern　coastline　at　three　dozen　airfields　including　Tamuda　City　and　Enothopolis
itself。”
Jagdea　walked　across　to　the　nearest　Thunderbolt　and　placed　her　hand　against　its　flank；　like　an
ancient　warrior　patting　their　destrier。　“In　order　to　mount　his　final　offensive；　the　Archenemy　has　to
get　over　or　around　the　Zophonian　Sea。　He　will　achieve　this　by　way　of　an　air　offensive。　In　the　next
few　days；　enemy　machines　will　be　flying　in　force　from　the　southern　Littoral　with　the　intention　of
sinking　the　retreat　convoys　and　attacking　the　northern　shore。　Unchecked；　a　blanket　air　assault　such
as　that　will　crush　Enothian　hopes。　The　Northern　Affiliation　would　be　wounded　and　reeling　by　the
time　the　invasion　comes。”
She　turned　round　to　look　at　them　straight。　“All　viable　Navy　wings　have　been　charged　by
Admiral　Ornoff　to　deny　that　air　assault。　I　repeat；　we　are　commanded　that　we　should　operate　to　deny
Archenemy　air　superiority　over　the　sea。　If　we　can　just　hold　his　squadrons　back；　we　will　block　the
sharp　end　of　his　invasion；　and　stall　its　malign　force　at　the　southern　coast。”
“And　if　we　can’t？”　said　Zemmic。
“Then　we　will　have　failed。　And　Enothis　will　fall。　Any　other　bloody　silly　questions？”
The　briefing　broke　up　and　everyone　resumed　work。
Blansher　joined　Jagdea。
“Tall　order。　You　think　we　can　do　it？”
“We　can　do　what　we　do；　Mil；”　she　replied。　“After　that；　it’s　down　to　the　almighty　God…Emperor
and　the　currents　of　fate　itself。”
“But　realistically？”　Blansher　had　a　habit　of　rubbing　the　scar　tissue　that　bisected　his　lips　and　chin
when　he　was　anxious。　He　was　doing　it　now。
“Realistically？　How’s　this　for　realistic？　It　took　them　two　weeks　to　smash　us　out　of　the　south。
How　long　do　you　think　the　remainder　of　our　broken；　under…strength；　scattered　wings　can　hold　the
sea　zone？”
“Throne！”　he　said。　“But—”
Jagdea　cut　him　off。　“Or　try　this　for　realistic　instead。　The　sea　is　a　real　buffer　that　will　slow　the
enemy　more　than　the　desert　or　the　Peninsula　ever　did。　We　are　the　best　pilots　in　the　Imperium…　I
don’t　just　mean　the　Phantine；　I　mean　the　N