Death World(科幻战争)-第8章

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Greiss　leading　the　way。　Mackenzie　brought　up　the　rear；　occasionally　shouting　orders。
They　broke　step；　however；　as　they　crossed　the　tree　line—and　Lorenzo　noted　that　Mackenzie
worked　his　way　into　the　centre　of　the　group；　so　that　there　would　always　be　a　Catachan　between　him
and　any　potential　threat。　The　commissar　had　a　rough　sketched　map；　which　he　kept　to　himself；　and　a
compass。　He　kept　the　squad　moving　on　a　bearing　of　approximately　twenty…five　degrees。　“We’re
taking　a　circuitous　route；”　he　explained　when　questioned；　“to　avoid　a　small　ork　encampment　to　the
north…west　of　here。”
“I’m　sure　we　could　take　’em；　sir；”　offered　Woods。
“I’m　sure　we　could；　trooper；”　said　Mackenzie　icily；　“but　as　I　explained　at　the　briefing　last　night；
this　is　a　stealth　mission。　A　single　ork　gets　wind　of　our　presence　in　this　area　and　lives　to　tell　of　it；　and
we　may　as　well　pack　up　and　go　home—because　our　chances　of　getting　within　shooting　distance　of
their　warboss　will　be　zero。”
“I　still　say　we　could　take　’em；”　muttered　Woods　resentfully。　But　Mackenzie　was　right；　and　he
knew　it。
The　jungle　closed　in　above　them；　sparing　them　the　fiercest　of　the　sun’s　rays；　though　the　air　was
still　sweltering。　Braxton　was　sweating；　wiping　his　damp　forehead　with　his　sleeve　every　few　steps。
The　burnt　odour　lingered；　and　the　Catachans’　feet　crunched　on　dead；　blackened　leaves。　This　area
had　been　torched—and　recently—but　with　little　effect。　Some　of　the　plants　and　trees　seemed　to　have
been　growing　here　for　years。
Their　progress　was　punctuated　by　cracks　of　las…fire；　whenever　a　jungle　lizard　was　sighted。　Myers
and　Storm　had　warned　everyone　of　the　creatures’　chameleonic　properties；　and　Lorenzo　had　added
the　information　he’d　received　from　Braxton；　so　the　whole　squad　was　on　the　alert。　Out　loud；　each
man　swore　he　would　never　end　his　days　like　Braxton’s　ill…fated　friend；　pleading　for　the　mercy　of　a
quick　death。　Privately；　Lorenzo　knew—as　the　others　must　have　known—that　stronger　men　than　he
had　been　broken　by　such　pain　as　only　a　deathworld　could　inflict。
In　time；　the　discharges　became　less　frequent；　as　if　the　lizards　had　learned　from　their　mistakes
and　were　keeping　their　distance。　Lorenzo　didn’t　imagine　for　a　second；　though；　that　they　had　seen　the
last　of　them。
That　burnt　smell　was　fading。　The　jungle　grass　was　growing　taller　and　the　trees　more　closely
together；　letting　less　sunlight　in　through　their　branches。　A　pink…headed；　acid…spitting　plant　reared　up
beside　the　Catachans　without　warning；　but　Myers　blasted　it　to　pieces　before　it　could　open　its　mouth。
Lorenzo　felt　goose　bumps　on　his　flesh；　but　it　was　a　pleasant　feeling。
He　seemed　to　have　been　waiting　a　long　time　for　this：　to　plunge　into　the　darkest　heart　of　the
jungle。　To　face　Rogar　III　on　its　own　turf。
They　were　about　two　hours　out　when　Braxton　reported　to　the　nearest　Jungle　Fighters—Myers　and
Storm—that　he　thought　they　were　being　followed。　Their　only　response　was　a　pair　of　knowing　grins；
so　Braxton　called　out　to　Commissar　Mackenzie。　“Sir！　Sir；　I　think　we’re　being　followed。”
The　young　officer　called　a　halt；　and　the　squad　stood　silent　for　a　minute　or　two。　Mackenzie
frowned。　“Anyone　hear　anything？”
“No；　sir；”　murmured　the　Catachans。
“It　was　up　there；　sir；”　said　Braxton；　pointing；　“in　the　trees。”
“You’re　imagining　things；　Braxton；”　decided　Mackenzie；　though　his　voice　betrayed　a　doubt。
Lorenzo　caught　an　aside　from　Storm　to　Myers：　“Looks　like　the　commissar’s　radar　dish　ears　are
just　ornamental；　then。”
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“Actually；”　said　Sergeant　Greiss；　with　no　little　satisfaction；　“there　is　someone　stalking　us。　The
rest　of　us　have　been　aware　of　it　since　we　left　the　clearing。”
Mackenzie　turned　pink。　“What？　Then　why　didn’t　you　speak　up？”
“Because　he’s　on　our　side。　In　fact；　we’re　honoured　to　have　him　watching　our　backs。”
The　commissar　looked　none　the　wiser；　and　fumbled　with　his　list　of　names。　“There’s　no　one
missing；”　he　said。
“This　man　works　alone；”　said　Dougan。
Mackenzie　scowled。　“That　is　not　acceptable。　This　offensive　has　been　planned　to　the　last　detail；
and　I　will　not　have　those　plans　jeopardised　by　a　maverick。”　He　shouted　into　the　jungle：　“You；
trooper。　Come　here；　now！”
Dougan　cleared　his　throat。　“Should　you　be　yelling　like　that；　sir？　If　there　are　ork　patrols　or
gretchin　in　the　area—”
The　commissar　ignored　him。　“Trooper；　my　name　is　Commissar　Mackenzie；　and　I　am　in
command　here。　I　demand　you　show　yourself　immediately。　You　have　ten　seconds。　If　I　can’t　see　your
face　by　then；　you　will　be　facing　court…martial！”
The　echoes　of　his　words　were　soaked　up　by　the　foliage。　In　the　distance；　a　bird　took　flight。　There
was　no　other　sound。
“Could　be　out　of　earshot　by　now；　sir；”　offered　Myers。
Mackenzie　rounded　on　the　Catachans；　clenching　his　fists。　“If　anyone　sees　or　hears　a　trace　of　that
man　again；　I　wish　to　be　informed　of　it　immediately；　do　you　hear　me？　Immediately！”
They　moved　on。
Dougan　dropped　back　in　the　marching　order　until　he　was　alongside　Braxton。　He　gave　the
Validian　an　approving　nod。　“Mostly；　if　Sly　Marbo　doesn’t　want　to　be　seen　or　heard；　he　isn’t—
sometimes　not　even　by　those　of　us　who　know　he’s　around。　I’m　impressed。”
An　hour　after　that；　the　jungle　became　so　dense　that　the　Catachans　had　to　draw　their　knives　and　cut
their　way　through。　Armstrong　and　Muldoon　took　point　to　begin　with；　Armstrong’s　devil　claw　and
Muldoon’s　sleek；　black　night　reaper　hacking　at　stinging　plants　and　thick　purple　creepers。
All　of　a　sudden；　Muldoon　let　out　a　warning　cry；　and　a　cloud　of　insects　blossomed　from　the
undergrowth　at　his　feet。　Each　was　the　length　of　one　of　Lorenzo’s　fingers；　with　hairy　black　bodies
and　gossamer　wings。　Armstrong　hopped　out　of　the　way　of　the　swarm；　but　it　latched　onto　Muldoon；
following　him　with　an　angry；　high…pitched　whine　as　he　tried　to　back　away　from　it。　He　swung　his
arms　furiously；　flattening　several　insects　against　the　nearest　tree；　his　blade　slicing　through　two　more。
The　rest　of　the　squad　had　withdrawn　out　of　reach。　Lorenzo　brought　up　his　lasgun；　squinting
along　its　sights　until　he　knew　he　could　fire　without　hitting　Muldoon。　His　las…fire　fried　several
insects；　as　did　simultaneous　shots　from　Greiss；　Woods　and　Donovits。　But　there　were　too　many　of
them。　The　cloud　seemed　hardly　to　have　lessened　in　size。
Myers　and　Storm　had　flung　their　packs　to　the　ground；　and　they　pulled　out　the　constituent　parts　of
a　heavy　flamer。　They　clicked　them　together；　then　Storm　steadied　the　bulky　weapon　while　Myers
aimed　it　at　the　swarm。　The　first　explosion　of　fire　singed　the　ends　of　Muldoon’s　hair；　and　lit　up　one
flank　of　the　insect　cloud；　sending　them　streaking　to　the　ground　as　dying　embers。　Muldoon　hurled
himself　face…first　into　the　undergrowth；　giving　Myers　a　clearer　second　shot　that　took　out　the　bulk　of
the　remaining　swarm。
There　were　still　more　than　a　dozen　insects　crawling　over　Muldoon；　but　he　rolled　and　crushed
those　that　couldn’t　take　flight　in　time。　The　others　rushed　to　stamp　on　the　rest；　or　to　skewer　them　with
blades。　Myers　and　Storm　aimed　one　final；　precautionary　blast　of　flame　at　the　ground　from　which　the
swarm　had　risen。　Then　the　Catachans　surrounded　Muldoon　where　he　lay　on　his　back。　He　blinked　up
at　them；　flushed　and　chagrined；　his　face　pimply　with　insect　bites。
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“What　the　hell　do　you　think　you’re　doing；　Muldoon？”　barked　Greiss　without　sympathy。　“You
know　better　than　to　disturb　an　insect　nest。　You　didn’t　see　it？”
“I　saw　it；　sergeant；”　said　Muldoon。　“I　was　giving　it　a　wide　berth；　but　the　bugs　came　out　fighting
all　the　same。”
“They　must　be　sensitive　to　vibrations　in　the　ground；”　guessed　Donovits。　“Or　to　body　heat—
though　that’s　less　likely　in　this　climate。　But　why　would　they　attack　if　their　nest　wasn’t　directly
threatened？”
“Just　antisocial；　I　guess；”　said　Greiss；　reaching　down　to　help　Muldoon　to　his　feet。　“You　feeling
alright；　Sharkbait？”
“Like　a　walking；　talking　colander；”　said　Muldoon　ruefully。　“They　took　chunks　out　of　me　all
over。　I　got　them　in　my　boots；　under　my　backpack；　in　my　collar…”
“Show　me；”　rapped　Greiss。
The　sergeant　spent　the　next　few　minutes　examining　Muldoon’s　bites。　Lorenzo　knew　why。　On
Catachan；　there　was　a　creature　known　as　the　vein　worm；　which　burrowed　into　its　victim’s　flesh　and
laid　its　eggs　in　his　bloodstream。　Greiss　intended　to　make　sure　these　alien　insects　had　left　no　similar
surprises　in　his　trooper。　When　he’d　satisfied　himself　on　that　count；　he　asked　Muldoon　to　tell　him
how　many　fingers　he　was　holding　up；　checking　for　toxins　that　may　have　begun　to　cloud　his　senses。
Muldoon　answered　correctly；　and　Greiss　rewarded　him　with　a　grim　smile；　and　clapped　him　on　the
arm。　“You’ll　live；”　he　concluded。　“Probably。”
“Do　you　think　we　can　get　on　now？”　asked　Mackenzie；　impatiently。
They　proceeded　more　cautiously　after　that；　with　Woods　and　Donovits　taking　over　cutting　duty　up
front。　As　soon　as　Woods　sighted　a　second　nest　in　among　the　creepers；　they　all　fell　back；　and　Myers
and　Storm　readied　the　flamer。　“What　are　you　waiting　for？”　cried　Mackenzie。　“Just　torch　the　damn
thing！”　But　the　troopers　turned　to　Greiss　for　confirmation　of　that　order；　and　the　grizzled　sergeant
shook　his　head　and　reached　for　a　stick。
He　flung　it　at　the　hive；　and　once　again　a　cloud　of　black　insects　darkened　the　air。　Myers’　finger
twitched　on　his　trigger；　ready　to　unleash　a　stream　of　fire　should　any　man　be　threatened。　The　insects；
however；　didn’t　seem　to　have　detected　the　watching　Catachans。　They　buzzed　around　for　a　while；
finding　no　one　upon　whom　to　expend　their　wrath；　and　then　settled　resentfully　back　into　their
disturbed　home。
“What　the　hell　was　the　point　of　that？”　demanded　Mackenzie。　“You　just　wanted　to　provoke　those
things？”
“To　observe　’em。”　Greiss　corrected　him。　“Anyone　else　see　what　I　saw？”
“The　red　flower　over　there；”　spoke　up　Donovits。　“The　insects　were　giving　it　a　wide　berth。”
Greiss　nodded。　“Let’s　find　out；　shall　we？”
He　followed　Donovits’　pointing　finger　to　a　delicate　red　flower　sprouting　from　the　trunk　of　a　tree。
It　had　eight　perfectly　formed　petals；　and　it　ost　beautiful　thing　Lorenzo　had　seen　on
this　world　so　far。　That　left　him　in　no　doubt　that　it　was　dangerous。
Greiss　found　another　stick；　and　poked　the　head　of　the　flowe