Death World(科幻战争)-第14章

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there　was　no　need；　that　Man　could　always　triumph　over　Nature。　If　he　was　the　right　man。
At　their　age…
He　laid　his　gun　aside。　This　would　be　a　fair　fight。　Lorenzo　drew　his　knife—a　devil　claw；　the
finest　of　all　Catachan　blades；　over　a　metre　in　length—and　he　pounced。　The　creature　reared　up　on　six
bristling　legs；　opened　its　mighty　claws；　and　whipped　its　spiny　tail　around　to　sting　him。　It　was　fast。
He　had　almost　forgotten　how　fast。　Or　perhaps　it　was　just　that　he　had　slowed　down　with　age。　How
old　was　he　now；　anyway？
He　could　still　take　it。
Lorenzo　landed　in　the　spot　where　the　creature　had　been；　his　knife　raised　to　strike。　But　the　Devil
was　no　longer　there。　He　whirled；　disoriented；　but　saw　no　trace　of　it。　How　could　it　have　escaped　from
him？　From…　from…　what　was　his　earned　name；　anyway？　He　felt　confused；　standing　in　that
clearing　alone。　Confused　and　humiliated。　He　thought　he　could　hear　the　children　laughing　at　him。
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Then　Lorenzo　glimpsed　a　spiny　tail　a　short　distance　ahead　of　him；　and　he　knew　what　had
happened。　The　Catachan　Devil　had　simply　wandered　away；　in　search　of　a　better　light。　A　soft　blue
light。　He　could　see　it　through　the　trees；　and　though　he　didn’t　know　what　the　light　was；　he　didn’t
wonder。　The　light　was　safe。　Everything　made　sense　again。　Except…
How　had　he　got　so　old？
Lorenzo　knew　what　the　children　said　about　him　behind　his　back。　They　said　he　couldn’t　be　a　hero
as　he　claimed；　because　he　had　survived　the　war　when　all　the　real　heroes　had　died。　They　called　him　a
coward；　said　he’d　never　taken　a　risk；　never　distinguished　himself。　Never　earned　his　name　after　all。
He　could　hear　their　taunts　now。　He　tried　to　blot　them　out；　tried　to　focus　on　the　creature　in　the　blue
light　ahead　of　him。　He　couldn’t　see　it　anymore；　but　he　could　see　the　light；　and　he　approached　it　with
increasingly　urgent　steps。　In　that　light；　he　would　prove　them　all　wrong　about　him。　“I　don’t　know　but
I’ve　been　told；　Jungle　Fighters　don’t　grow　old…”
This　wasn’t　what　Lorenzo　wanted。
Even　if　it　had　been；　he　knew　it　was　an　impossible　dream。　Few　Jungle　Fighters　ended　their　days
like　this；　and　he　had　never　expected　to　be　one　of　them。
It　wasn’t　real。
It　wasn’t　real。
With　that　sudden　knowledge；　he　snapped　back　to　the　present；　to　Rogar　III。　It　hit　him　between　the
eyes　like　a　smack　of　cold　air；　and　he　was　on　the　bank　of　a　stagnant　lake；　one　foot　poised　over　its
surface。　He　pulled　back；　and　sent　loose　dirt　skittering　over　the　side。　As　it　hit；　it　evaporated　in　a　cloud
of　white　steam。　Acid。
The　blue　light　was　hovering　in　the　centre　of　the　lake—but　now；　as　if　it　knew　its　ploy　had　failed；
it　blinked　out　again　and　left　Lorenzo　in　the　dark。　Alone。　Without　his　lasgun。
In　a　part　of　the　jungle　he　had　not　seen　before。
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CHAPTER　SEVEN
Lorenzo　was　afraid。
It　was　a　feeling　to　which　he　wasn’t　accustomed。　But　then；　nor　was　he　used　to　being　alone；
separated　from　his　squad—to　having　abandoned　them。　It　was　their　lives　he　was　afraid　for；　not　his
own。
He　didn’t　know　where　he　was；　nor　where　Dougan　had　got　to。　He　didn’t　know　how　far　he　had
walked；　mesmerised　by　the　blue　light。　He　just　knew　he　had　to　get　back　to　the　campsite。　He　crashed
through　the　jungle；　following　a　trail　he　didn’t　remember　leaving；　cursing　himself　for　his　weakness。
It　wasn’t　as　if　he　hadn’t　been　warned。　He　could　see　it　clearly　now。　The　light　had　been　inside　him
all　the　time；　a　more　subtle　presence　than　he　could　have　imagined。　It　had　heightened　his　desires　and
his　fears；　whatever　it　had　taken　to　lead　him　where　it　had　wanted　him　to　go。　To　his　death。　He　had
been　lucky。　It　hadn’t　been　strong　enough。
Somehow；　he　had　found　the　will　to　focus；　to　snap　himself　out　of　its　spell。
The　only　thing　he　wanted　right　now；　the　total　of　his　hopes　and　ambitions；　was　to　find　his
comrades　alive。　He　remembered　what　Dougan　had　said；　how　he’d　suspected　that　the　blue　light　was
trying　to　lure　them　away。　What　if　there　had　been　an　attack　in　his　absence？　What　if　they　were　all
dead；　and　it　was　his　fault？
Dougan。　Suddenly；　Lorenzo　could　hear　his　voice　again；　and　see　the　intensity　in　his　gaze。　“Let
me　do　this…　I　need　to　do　this！”　He　hadn’t　questioned　him；　hadn’t　seen　that　the　light　had　cast　its
spell　over　Dougan　too。
He　stumbled　to　a　halt。　Somehow；　impossibly；　his　trail　had　petered　out。
He　was　lost　for　a　moment；　scrabbling　in　the　undergrowth；　looking　for　something—a　snapped
twig；　a　crushed　leaf—anything　to　show　he　had　passed　this　way　before。　There　was　nothing。　Until；
just　as　he　was　beginning　to　give　up　hope；　wondering　if　he　should　risk　calling　out　to　the　others；
Lorenzo’s　fingers　brushed　against　something。　Something　cold；　hard；　smooth；　angular。　Wood　and
metal。
His　lasgun。　He　had　to　tear　it　from　the　clutches　of　weeds；　as　if　it　had　lain　here　for　weeks；　been
claimed　as　the　jungle’s　own。　He　felt　another　stab　of　anxiety。　He　didn’t　feel　as　if　more　than　a　few
minutes；　maybe　a　half…hour；　had　passed；　and　the　pre…dawn　sky　supported　that　theory—but　in　the
blue　light’s　embrace；　time　hadn’t　meant　a　great　deal。　His　comrades’　corpses　could　be　rotting
already。
He　tried　not　to　think　about　it。　No　point　in　worrying　about　what　he　couldn’t　change。　Just　get　back
to　the　campsite；　and　deal　with　what　was　real。
A　pair　of　yellow　lizard　eyes　blinked　at　Lorenzo　from　under　a　flowering　plant。　He　fried　their
owner　with　a　las…round；　just　to　test　that　his　gun　wasn’t　clogged。
A　faint　breath　of　air　caressed　his　face；　and　made　his　scratches　sting。　So；　he　hadn’t　been
entranced　long　enough　for　them　to　heal。　He　remembered　stalking　an　imaginary　Devil；　standing
downwind　of　it。　He　had　to　hope　that　this　part　of　the　fantasy；　at　least；　had　been　real。　He　closed　his
eyes　and　oriented　himself　at　the　spot　where　he’d　found　the　lasgun；　tried　to　transport　himself　back　to
that　Catachan　clearing　and　to　mentally　retrace　his　steps　towards　it。
When　he　opened　his　eyes　again；　he　knew　which　way　he　had　to　go。
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Lorenzo　heard　movements　through　the　trees—and　was　that　the　sergeant’s　voice？
He　broke　into　a　run；　and　came　up　short　when　two　familiar　figures　loomed　before　him；
Armstrong　and　Landon。
“What　happened？”　asked　Armstrong　and　Landon　at　the　same　time。
“We’ve　been　searching　for　you；”　said　Armstrong。　“Where—？”
“Is　everyone—？”
“We　thought　something　must　have　dragged　you　away。　We　were　lucky　Sharkbait　woke　when　he
did；　and　started　yelling。　Landon　here　had　a　lizard　on　his　neck；　we　only　just　got　it　off　him　in　time。”
“I’m　sorry。　I　didn’t　mean　to—”
“Where’s　Steel　Toe？　Is　he　with　you？”
Lorenzo　felt　as　if　his　blood　had　just　frozen。　“You　haven’t　seen　him？”
He　swallowed；　and　told　Armstrong　everything；　burning　with　shame　beneath　the　veteran’s　oneeyed
gaze。　Before　Lorenzo’s　story　was　done；　Armstrong　was　leading　the　way　back　to　the　camp。　En
route；　they　were　joined　by　Myers　and　Storm；　both　bursting　strong　filled　them　in
brusquely；　and　Lorenzo　pointed　across　the　ashes　of　last　night’s　fire　to　where　he　had　last　seen
Dougan。　Myers　and　Storm　went　straight　off　to　resume　their　search　in　that　direction。
Armstrong　mimicked　the　screeching　call　of　a　Catachan　flying　swamp　mamba；　and　the　rest　of　the
Jungle　Fighters　answered　his　summons；　appearing　two　by　two　to　hear　the　news　and　to　have　their
own　efforts　redirected。
Sergeant　Greiss　cast　an　appraising　eye　over　Lorenzo；　and　asked　if　he　was　alright。　Lorenzo
nodded；　and　Greiss　crooked　a　finger　in　his　direction　and　growled；　“You’re　with　me；　trooper。”
Lorenzo　fell　in　at　the　sergeant’s　heels；　avoiding　his　gaze。　He　knew　what　he　must　have　been
thinking。
The　search　went　on　for　another　hour；　aided　by　the　reappearance　of　the　sun。　Donovits　and　Woods
found　a　partial　trail；　and　Donovits　identified　the　uniquely　heavy　indentation　of　Dougan’s　bionic
leg—but　as　with　Lorenzo’s　trail　earlier；　it　led　them　nowhere。
Greiss　was　about　ready　to　give　up；　Lorenzo　could　feel　it。　Until　he　gave　the　order；　though；　there
was　still　hope。　He　found　a　path　they　hadn’t　searched；　because　it　was　so　overgrown；　and　he　started　to
hack　at　the　vegetation　with　his　knife。　Greiss　regarded　him　for　a　second　then；　to　his　immense
gratitude；　the　sergeant　drew　his　own　Catachan　fang　and　joined　him。
They　hadn’t　gone　far　when　a　figure　dropped　out　of　a　tree　in　front　of　them。　It　was　a　lithe　man　in
camouflage　fatigues　and　the　customary　bandana；　with　tanned　skin　and　dark　hair　like　Dougan’s。
Lorenzo’s　heart　leapt—and　it　stayed　in　his　mouth　as　he　recognised　this　newcomer；　not　as　the　man
they　were　looking　for　but　as　Sly　Marbo。
He　had　never　been　this　close　to　the　legendary　one…man　army　before。　In　other　circumstances；　he
might　have　felt　honoured—but　Marbo　seemed　hardly　to　have　seen　Lorenzo。　His　face　was　taut；
denied　so　much　as　a　flicker　of　emotion；　and　his　eyes　were　white　and　penetrating　but　dead　inside；　as
he　addressed　Greiss。　“You　won’t　find　your　trooper　this　way。”
Greiss　accepted　the　pronouncement　without　question。　“Have　you　seen　him？”
Marbo　shook　his　head。　“This　jungle　has　a　way　of　hiding　things；　and　people。　Haven’t　worked　it
out　yet。”
Greiss　sighed；　and　called　out；　“Right；　let’s　call　it　a　day。　Reassemble　at　the　campsite。”　There　was
no　response；　but　Lorenzo　knew　that　one　of　the　others　would　have　heard；　and　passed　the　message　on。
“One　more　thing；”　said　Marbo　in　his　deep；　throaty　voice。　“There’s　an　ork　encampment　forty
kilometres　from　here；　twenty…two　degrees。　A　big　one。　Don’t　think　the　Validians　know　about　it—but
your　course　will　take　you　right　through　it。”
Lorenzo　didn’t　question　how　he　could　have　scouted　so　far　ahead。　He　was　Sly　Marbo。
“No　way　round？”
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“Not　unless　you　want　to　go　wading　through　an　acid　swamp—or　adding　four　days　to　your
journey。”
Greiss　expressed　his　gratitude　with　a　curt　nod—then　Marbo　was　gone。　Just　gone；　in　the　time　it
took　Lorenzo　to　blink；　leaving　not　the　faintest　ripple　in　the　foliage。　Sergeant　Greiss　turned　to　retrace
his　steps　too；　but　Lorenzo　stopped　him　with　a　hand　on　his　shoulder。　“No。　You　can’t…　Trooper
Dougan；　he　could　still　be…”
Greiss　raised　an　eyebrow。　“You　heard　what　Marbo　said。　Steel　Toe’s　gone。　Accept　it　and　move
on。”
“But　what　if　the　light　still　has　him？　If　he’s　been　hypnotised…　He　could　be　out　there！”
“You　say　this　light　of　yours　tried　to　give　you　an　acid　bath。”
“Yes；　but　I　broke