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第30章

The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第30章

小说: The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争) 字数: 每页4000字

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'Cardinal Palfro of Mimiga? Saint Boniface; also called the Deathshead of a Thousand Tears?' intoned Aemos。
'For the Emperor's sake!'
'High Lord Vandire?' I suggested。
'All right; all right—'
'Horus?' Aemos dared to whisper。
There was a long silence。
'Great Quixos;' Neve murmured; slowly turning to face me。 'Will he be added to that unholy list? Is one of our greatest to be
condemned so?'
'If he must be;' I replied。
'What do we do?' she asked。
'We find him。 We find out if the passing centuries have truly changed him into the being we fear he is。 And if they have; Emperor
pardon me; we declare him Heretic and Extremis Diabolus; and we destroy him for his crimes。'
NEVE SAT DOWN hard; staring into her glass。 There was a knock at the sanctum's door; which Aemos answered。
It was Fischig。
'Sir… madam…' he said; acknowledging Neve。
'Well; Fischig?'
'Further to your discoveries today; we have been monitoring inter…orbit traffic。 Two hours ago; a craft made planetfall at Kasr Gesh。 It
cleared Cadian airspace using the inquisitor general's authority code。'
Gesh was the site of the last known cult activity。

I gathered up my coat。 'With your permission; inquisitor general?'
Neve rose with me; her face set hard。 'With your permission; Inquisitor Eisenhom。 I'd like to come with you。'
KASR GESH WAS three hours flight from Kasr Derm。 Cruel winter had blown in from the upland heaths; and the gun…cutter was
vibrating its way against powerful ice storms。
My band was all aboard; preparing weapons。 So was Inquisitor General Neve and a six…man squad of Cadian Elite Shock; impassive
troopers in winter camo armour; prepping matt…white lasrifles and stubbers in the crew…bay
'God…throne; they're tough…ass bastards;' Nayl muttered to me as I passed him coming out of the bay。
'Impressed?'
'Scared is more like it。 Regular Cadian is soldier enough for me。 These are elite。 The elite of the elite。 The Kasrkin。'
'The what?' It wasn't like an experienced fighter to show deference to other fighting men。
'The Kasrkin。 The Cadian best; and you can imagine what that means。 Holy Terra; they're stone…killers!'
'How do you know?'
'Oh; please… look at their necks。 The Caducades sea…eagle brand。 Come to that; just look at their necks。 I've seen slimmer trees!'
'Good thing they're on our side;' I said。
'I bloody hope so;' Nayl returned; and moved forward。
The deck lurched again。 I walked back down the bay; steadying myself on the overhead handloops; and approached Neve。
She was dressed in Cadian mesh armour; and was adjusting her winter hood。 I saw she had exchanged her silver crutch for a liftassisted
cane fitted with a compact cylindrical grenade launcher。
In my fur coat and bodyglove armour; I felt underdressed。
'Your usual attire?' I asked。
'Necessary clothing。 You should come out with me sometime; cult…hunting in the islands after dark。'
'My staff are… worried。 These men are Kasrkin?'
'Yes。'
'Their reputation precedes them。'
'So did yours。'
'Good point。 But; anyway…'
Neve looked round at the row of Cadian elite。 'Captain Echbar!' she shouted; raising her voice above the roar of the buffet and the
thrasters。
'Inquisitor general ma'am!' said the warrior on the end。
'Inquisitor Eisenhorn wants reassurance that you are the best of the best and will be careful to watch the backsides of him and his
band。'
Six snow…visored faces turned to look at me。
'We've logged the bio…spoors of you and your company into our sighting auspexes; sir;' Echbar announced to me。 'We couldn't shoot
them now even if we wanted to。'
'Make sure you don't。 My staff and I will be leading the way in。 The situation may not call for firepower。 If it does; the vox or psyker
command is 〃Rose thorn〃。 Vox…channel is gamma…nine…eight。 Are you prepared for a psychic summons?'
'We're prepared for anything;' Echbar told me。
The gun…cutter stopped shaking。
'We've come out of the storm;' Medea voxed me。
A moment later; she crackled; 'I see approach lights。 Kasr Geth landing field in two。'
THE PYLON STOOD three kilometres outside the earthworks of Kasr Geth。 The night was clear and glassy; with a heaven full of stars。
The Eye of Terror throbbed dimly at the top of the sky。 It seemed to me more lurid and brighter than ever before。
Somewhere up there; I knew; orbital detachments of the Cadian Interior Guard were hunting the hidden starship from which the
visitors to Kasr Gesh had come。 Neve had scrambled them before we left; with strict orders not to move until we had engaged on the
ground。
We didn't want our visitors tipped off。
My team moved in up through the frost…caked scrub of the moorland slope。 The pylon was simply a black; oblong; absence of stars。 I
could hear it moaning。
I slid out my main weapon: a storm…bolter which I had sprayed green in memory of the prize sidearm I had lost somewhere on Eechan;
may Librarian Brytnoth forgive me。 This storm…gun was slightly larger and more powerful; but nothing like so well engineered as the
boltpistol I had treasured。
On my hip I wore a Cadian hanger; a short; curved twin…edged sabre that replaced my beloved power sword。 It was just a simple piece
of sharp steel; but I'd had the hierarchs at the Ministorum of Kasr Derth make some modifications。
Still; in truth; I felt vulnerable going up that slope。
Nayl was to my left; fielding a combat…cannon。 Husmaan to my right with his trustworthy long…las。 Inshabel was to his right; armed
with a brace of antique laspistols that had belonged to Inquisitor Roban。 Fischig; hefting an old and trusted arbites…issue riot…gun; had
gone wide to the far left。
Bequin; a long…barrelled autopistol in her gloved hand; was right beside me。

Behind us; Neve and her Kasrkin lurked; waiting for my signal。
Aemos was aboard the gun…cutter with Medea; hovering above the drop point; lights killed。 They; rather than Neve and her elite; were
my reassurance。
'WHAT DO YOU see?' I voxed。
'Nothing;' replied Husmaan and Nayl。
'I've got an angle into the seat of the pylon;' said Inshabel。 'I see lights。'
'Confirm that;' crackled Fischig; wide to the left。 'There are men down there。 I count eight; no ten。 Twelve。 Portable lights。 They've got
machines。'
'Machines?'
'Handheld。 Auspexes。'
'Measuring again;' Neve whispered over the link。
'I'm sure;' I said。 Then I said; in Glossia: 'Thorn eyes flesh; rapturous beasts at hand。 Aegis to arms; crucible。 All points cowled。 Razor
torus pathway; pattern ebony。'
MY STORM…GUN MADE a loud click as I racked it。
The robed men working in the floodlights around the foot of the pylon froze and slowly turned from their work to look at me。
I walked down from the moor; through the ice…stiffened bracken; bracing my gun in a pose that could kill any one of them。
Bequin followed me a few steps behind; her pistol held loosely; ready to swing up。
I knew we were covered by Husmaan; Inshabel; Nayl and Fischig。
'Who is the leader here?' I asked; panning my weapon around。
'I am;' said one of the robed figures。
'Step forward and identify yourself;' I said。
'To whom?'
I raised the rosette plainly in my left hand: 'Imperial Inquisition!' Some of the robed men moaned with dismay。
The leader did not。 He stepped forward。 I could suddenly smell a cold; metallic scent; one that was not new to me。
A warning that came too late。
The leader slowly drew back his cowl。 His angular; cruel head was hairless and a cold blue light shone out through his skin。
Sharpened; steel…tipped horns sprouted from his brow。 His eyes were white slits。
A daemonhost!
'Cherubael?' I said; foolishly; stupidly。
'Your witless ally is not here; Eisenhorn;' said the being; baring his teeth and gleaming with light。
'My name is Prophaniti。'

FIFTEEN
ROSE THORN。
WHAT CADIANS ARE BORN FOR。
THE LAST THING I EXPECTED。
THERE WERE TWO ways for this to go。 The first was for me to continue talking; and still be talking when the daemonhost killed me and
tossed my smoking corpse on the piled bodies of my comrades。 The second was for me to say ''Rose thorn'' and place my trust in the
mettle of my supporters and the ever…vigilant gaze of the holy God…Emperor。
I said; 'Rose thorn。'
The thing; Prophaniti; was stepping towards me。 I shot at it with my storm…gun; watching in horrid fascination as it caught the white
hot bolt rounds out of the air in its outstretched hands; like a man idly catching slow…tossed racquet balls。
The bolts dulled to an ember…red in its palms; and it tossed them aside。
But its entire attention was on me。
Its mistake。
Husmaan's first hot…shot round cracked into the side of its head; and snapped its skull around。 As it was reeling; its robes were ripped
across by double laspistol fire from Inshabel。 Then Fischig's riot…gun roared and knocked it down in the brittle bracken。 Fischig liked
to spend his free time hand…moulding the shot for his riot…gun's cartridges。 Every pellet was silver; and stamped with a sacred sigil of
warding that I had taught him long ago。
Prophaniti writhed in agony; the blessed buck…shot burning into its flesh。 It started to rise; wrathful and frenzied; but a grinding whir
rose from my left; a sound like a circular saw running up to speed。
Nayl's cycling drum…cannon raked the daemonhost and the earth around it; doing hideous damage。 The blizzard of shots twisted it;
ripping off one of its legs at the knee and the fingers off its left hand。

Eldritch power; white…cold like frost; spurted from its wounds like lava; and burned the soil。
The other cultists were moving now; pulling weapons and firing wildly into the night。 The place lit up with shooting。
Las…fire came from behind us; startlingly close; whipping past our elbows and shoulders。 Two of the cultists crumpled; one of them
smashing over some of the erected floodlights。
Echbar and his Kasrkin charged in past us to engage。
In truth; I may say now that they were somehow more terrifying than the daemonhost。 For Prophaniti was a supernatural thing; and
one expected it to be horrifying。
The Kasrkin were just men。 It made their actions all the more astonishing。 Six white blurs; they fell upon the cultists; lasguns barking
at close range。 They wasted no shots。 One shot; one kill。 A cultist fled past me; and a Kasrkin swung to bring him down。 His weapon
refused to fire

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