Death World(科幻战争)-第6章

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wounded；　Catachans　and　Validians　working　together　to　restore　order。
“For　any　of　you　girls　who　were　fretting；”　announced　Colonel　Graves；　“B　Platoon　have　voxed　in。
They’ve　had　some　casualties—lost　eight　men—but　most　of　them　are　still　standing；　and　they’re
making　their　way　to　us；　ETA　11。00。　In　view　of　this　delay；　Commissar　Mackenzie　has　decided　not　to
wait。　All　Jungle　Fighters　are　to　assemble　in　the　briefing　hut　in　twenty　minutes。”
Lorenzo　slept　under　the　stars　that　night；　on　a　bed　of　leaves　picked　from　the　edge　of　the　jungle　and
carefully　tested　for　hidden　spines　and　poison　sap。　Basic　quarters　had　been　provided　for　the
Catachans；　but　there　weren’t　enough　bunks　for　all　of　them—and　most　would　have　chosen　to　sleep
outdoors　anyway。　It　had　been　too　long。
The　sounds　of　the　jungle　at　night　brought　a　feeling　of　calm　to　Lorenzo。　The　rustle　of　a　breeze　in
its　leaves；　the　caws　and　cackles　of　nocturnal　predators；　the　gurgle　of　water—or　some　other　liquid—
carried　from　far　away。　He　wished　he　could　be　deeper　inside　it。　The　area　cleared　out　by　the　Validians
had　an　acrid　burnt　scent　to　it。　Lorenzo　was　used　to　having　a　canopy　of　green　above　him—but　tonight
it　was　black；　and　freckled　with　the　white　points　of　distant　suns。　The　night　sky　was　crystal　clear；　the
air　warm。　It　was　as　if　Rogar　III　was　showing　him　its　good　points；　its　aesthetic　qualities。　As　if　it
wanted　to　lull　him　into　a　sense　of　security　by　hiding　its　true；　savage　beauty　from　him。　Lorenzo
wasn’t　fooled。　He　looked　forward　to　the　morning；　to　testing　this　world’s　mettle。
He　thought　back　to　Mackenzie’s　briefing；　and　suppressed　a　thrill。　The　commissar　had　been
furnished　with　a　list　of　the　Catachan　squads；　and　had　assigned　them　to　various　missions。　B　Platoon
had　drawn　the　short　straw　in　their　absence；　they　would　arrive　at　the　encampment　to　find　that　their
comrades　had　moved　out　and　left　them　to　reinforce　the　security　details　here。　If　they　were　lucky；　the
orks　would　provide　a　distraction　or　two　to　break　up　the　monotony。
The　rest　of　the　Catachans　were　to　do　what　the　Validians　could　not：　take　the　fight　to　the　orks
themselves。　Which　meant；　of　course；　fighting　the　jungle　too。
“I　know　what　you’re　all　thinking。”　Colonel　Graves　had　added　to　Mackenzie’s　speech。　“It’s　a
jungle　world；　maybe　even　a　deathworld；　nothing　you　haven’t　seen　before。　Well；　believe　me；　Rogar
III　is　different。　The　commissar　here　tells　me　that；　a　year　ago；　this　place　was　a　little　green　corner　of
paradise。　Well；　I　don’t　know　what’s　happened；　and　to　tell　the　truth　I　don’t　much　care—but　as　you
ladies　can　see；　this　isn’t　paradise　anymore。”
Later；　Donovits　had　tossed　around　a　lot　of　phrases　like　“climate　change”　and　“axis　shifts”—but
Lorenzo　hadn’t　cared　much。
He’d　been　more　interested　in　hearing　how　the　Imperium’s　attempts　to　expand　its　encampments
had　met　with　failure。　It　was　a　full…time　job　for　a　squad　of　Guardsmen　to　maintain　this　one；　small
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though　it　was。　For　every　jungle　creeper　they　burnt　away；　two　more　seemed　to　replace　it—and　their
rate　of　growth　was　prodigious。
“When　the　Explorators　came　to　Rogar。”　Graves　had　said；　“they　recorded　some　weird　energy
signature。”　Of　course；　Lorenzo　had　already　known　that；　thanks　to　Donovits。　“Now；　I’m　not　saying
there’s　anything　in　that—just　warning　you　hotheads　not　to　get　too　cocky。　We　don’t　know　what　this
deathworld　has　to　throw　at　us；　but　we　do　know　a　couple　of　hundred　Guardsmen　have　died　trying　to
find　out。”
Mackenzie　had　displayed　a　rough　map　of　the　area；　and　pointed　out　the　known　ork　strongholds。
He　was　planning　an　attack　on　one　of　these；　intelligence　suggested　that　it　was　lightly　defended；　the
orks　depending　on　the　jungle　itself　to　protect　them。　A　derisive　snort　had　gone　up　from　the　Catachans
at　this　point。
The　whole　of　A　Platoon；　ogryns　and　all；　was　committed　to　this　offensive；　while　two　of　D
Platoon’s　four　squads　were　to　set　traps　and　lay　in　wait　for　reinforcements　from　the　other　ork　camps。
Other　squads　would　target　supply　lines—hit　and　run　tactics；　to　divide　the　enemy’s　attention。
Lorenzo’s　squad　had　been　the　last　to　learn　its　assignment—and　its　ten　men　had　let　out　a　cheer
when　Mackenzie　had　explained　that　it　was　the　most　vital；　and　most　dangerous；　of　all。　The
commissar　had　shouted　at　them　to　be　silent。
“One　particular　ork　has　been　giving　us　trouble；”　he　had　said。　“Their　current　warboss　in　this
region。　You　know　how　it　is—we　take　out　one；　another　takes　its　place。　But　this　one　has　a　few　more
brain　cells　than　most。　The　troops　have　taken　to　calling　him　Big　Green。　He’s　actually　got　the　beasts
organised；　to　an　extent。　Their　last　few　raids　on　us　were　almost　well　planned。　And　this　ork　has　a　keen
sense　of　self…preservation。　Most　warbosses　lead　from　the　front；　this　one　stays　behind　the　lines。　He’s
become　a　legend　to　the　orks；　if　only　because　he’s　lasted　longer　than　his　predecessors。　He’s　good　for
their　morale。　Too　good。　I　want　him　dead！”
According　to　the　commissar；　the　Imperial　Guard　had　been　close　to　finding　the　warboss’　hideout
when；　in　his　own　words；　“the　jungle　became　impassable”。　They　knew　its　general　location；　but　the
lair　itself　was　well　concealed。　The　Catachans’　job　was　to　find　the　ork　warboss　and　do　the　necessary
deed。　A　stealth　mission；　a　single　assassination。　Sounded　simple；　Lorenzo　thought。
Then；　Mackenzie　had　thrown　a　spanner　in　the　works。
“Given　the　importance　of　this　mission；”　he　had　said；　“I　will　be　leading　it　myself。　Silence！”　he
bellowed　in　response　to　the　Catachans’　howls　of　protest。
Sergeant　Greiss；　who　a　moment　earlier　had　sported　a　broad　grin　on　his　face；　now　looked　as　if　he
had　been　slapped。　“With　respect；　sir；”　he　had　growled；　“you　aren’t　a　Jungle　Fighter。　Better　if　the
men　take　their　orders　from　someone　used　to—”
“Contrary　to　popular　belief；　sergeant。”　Mackenzie　had　sneered；　“they　do　teach　us　to　do　more
than　sit　around　and　drink　amasec　in　officer　training。　I　am　fully　qualified　in　jungle　warfare—and
more　importantly；　in　command。　Now；　I’m　sure　your　style　of　leadership　is　adequate　for　charging　at
the　enemy　with　your　bayonets　fixed—but　this　is　to　be　a　precision　strike。　For　that　to　work；　I　need…”
He　raised　his　voice　to　speak　over　the　growing　grumbles　of　dissent。　“I　need　a　well…drilled；　efficient
squad　of　men；　who　know　what’s　expected　of　them　and　plaint。
With　respect；　sergeant；　I　doubt　you　can　provide　that。”
Lorenzo　wasn’t　looking　forward　to　serving　under　Mackenzie。　Still；　he　wouldn’t　have　swapped
this　assignment　for　any　other。　He　felt　proud　at　the　thought　that　Colonel　Graves　might　have
recommended　his　squad　above　all　others—although　he　wasn’t　kidding　himself。　He　knew　that；　if　they
had　been　recommended；　it　would　have　been　for　Greiss’　experience　or　the　distinguished　war　records
of　Dougan　and　Armstrong。　Chances　were；　the　colonel　didn’t　even　know　Lorenzo’s　name。　Anyway；
it　seemed　more　likely　that　Mackenzie　had　made　the　choice　himself；　probably　just　for　the　opportunity
to　laud　it　over　Greiss。
The　Catachans　had　insisted　on　providing　their　own　night　watch；　to　the　chagrin　of　the　Validians
already　standing　sentry　over　the　camp。　Lorenzo　had　volunteered　for　the　duty；　but　he　hadn’t　been
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quick　enough。　He　slept　soundly；　knowing　he　was　safe　in　the　charge　of　his　comrades—until；　in　the
dark　hours　of　the　morning；　some　inbred　danger　sense　woke　him。
He　opened　his　eyes；　instantly　alert；　to　face　a　yellow　stare。
A　jungle　lizard；　just　a　little　larger　than　the　one　he　had　seen　yesterday。　Somehow　it　had　slipped　by
the　Guardsmen　of　two　regiments；　and　crept　up　on　him。　Its　eyes　stared　into　his　eyes。　It　was　perfectly
still；　its　trailing　body　propped　up　by　two　legs　like　miniature　tree　trunks。　Tiny　nostrils　quivered　as　it
breathed；　slowly　and　calmly。　Its　mouth　was　a　thin　line；　perhaps　a　little　upturned　at　the　edges。　As　if　it
was　mocking　him；　gloating。
Lorenzo　had　seen　lizards　that　could　breathe　fire　and　spit　poison；　or　eviscerate　a　man　with　their
claws　in　seconds。　He　had　seen　one　burrow　into　a　man’s　stomach　and　attach　itself　to　his　nervous
system；　working　him　like　a　puppet。　He　had　no　idea　of　the　capabilities　of　this　one；　but　he　didn’t　doubt
that　it　was　deadly。　Deathworlds　bred　no　other　type　of　animal。　And　it　had　the　drop　on　him。
He　lay　still　as　a　rock；　staring　into　those　yellow　eyes；　looking　for　the　slightest　glimmer　of　intent；
the　warning　that　the　lizard　was　about　to　strike。
Slowly；　painfully　slowly；　so　slowly　that　his　muscles　screamed　in　protest；　Lorenzo’s　fingers
worked　their　way　down　his　leg。　Toward　his　Catachan　fang。
The　lizard　made　its　move。
Its　mouth　gaped　open；　impossibly　wide；　almost　larger　than　its　head—and　during　the　briefest
split…second　that　followed；　Lorenzo　got　the　impression　of　a　coiled　red　tongue　with　a　glistening
needlepoint　end。　He　snatched　his　knife　from　its　sheath；　tried　to　roll　out　of　the　way；　but　he　knew　there
was　no　time。
Something　flashed　through　the　air。　Something　metal。
Then　there　was　blood—thick；　green　blood—and　Lorenzo　was　up　and　armed；　but　only　because
the　expected　attack　had　not　come。
A　Catachan　fang　was　buried　up　to　its　haft　in　the　lizard’s　head。　Its　blade　had　passed　through　the
creature’s　mouth；　pinning　its　tongue；　and　into　the　scorched　earth　beneath　it。　An　ordinary　man　might
have　thanked　the　God…Emperor　for　sparing　him；　but　Lorenzo　had　long　since　learned　there　was　no
divine　intervention　in　such　matters。　He　thanked　good　comrades　instead。
“Sorry　“bout　that；　pal；”　said　Myers；　reclaiming　his　knife　from　the　dead　lizard’s　head　and
casually　wiping　off　its　blood　and　brain　matter　with　a　leaf。　“These　critters　are　like　chameleons；　they
can　change　their　scale　patterns　to　blend　in　with　their　surroundings。”
As　usual；　Myers　was　accompanied　by　Wildman　Storm—a　muscular；　bearded　Catachan　who
often　looked　like　he　would　tear　off　your　head　as　soon　as　look　at　you；　until　his　features　broke　into　a
dazzling　grin。　“We’ve　picked　off　a　few　tonight；”　he　said；　“but　we　didn’t　hear　this　one　until　it　was
already　past　us。　Took　a　minute　to　find　it。”
“No　problem；”　said　Lorenzo；　adding　a　grateful　nod　for　the　rescue。
No　longer　pinned；　the　lizard　had　toppled　onto　its　side。　Its　ruptured　tongue　lolled　out　of　its　mouth；
leaking　venom　and　blood。　From　above；　no　longer　eye　to　eye　with　it；　it