The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第44章

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and　cut
down　the　cultists。
'Stalker　453；　left　and　target；'　Bure　murmured。　They　were　all　slaved　to　his　direct　control。
One　of　the　stalkers　retrained　its　weapons　and　gunned　four　more　cultists　down。　The　charge…load　they　had　been　hefting　exploded　in　a
bright　flash　that　blacked　out　the　display　for　a　second。　When　the　holo…image　returned；　the　stalker　was　already　pacing　on　after　new
targets。
'Stalker　130　and　Stalker　252；　fan　right。　Opposition　in　cover　behind　that　stalactite　mass。'
'Oh　great　Emperor；'　said　Aemos　suddenly。　'Some　of　them　are　unarmoured。'
It　was　true。　A　good　many　of　the　men　assaulting　us　wore　no　shielding　or　environment　armour。　Their　clothes　were　charred　to　black　rags
and　their　flesh　was　blistered　and　raw。　Some　force　was　keeping　them　active　and　functioning　in　this　great　infernal　depth　where　no　living
thing　should　have　been　able　to　survive　unprotected。　Not　the　pressure；　the　extreme　heat；　not　even　the　toxic；　corrosive　atmosphere　was
stopping　them。　The　taint　of　the　Lith　had　transmuted　them　into　denizens　of　this　underworld。
The　wave　of　stalkers　strode　forward　inexorably；　and　the　translithopede　followed　them　slowly；　its　impelling　lines　of　adamantium　cilia
dragging　it　across　the　cavern　rock。　The　multi…lasers　fired　again；　destroying　another　vehicle　…　a　large　ore　transporter　that　had　been
attempting　to　crash　itself　into　our　machine。
The　mighty　plasma　screw　churned　again　and　ruptured　apart　a　curtain　of　massive　dripstones。　Drizzles　of　dust　obscured　our　picture　for　a
few　seconds。
When　it　cleared；　we　saw　the　true　horror；　and　realised　the　ultimate；　blasphemous　fate　of　Cinchare　minehead's　population。
The　blasphemy　was　huge；　a　writhing　mound　of　baked；　raw　flesh　and　cooking　bone。　One　by　one；　the　tainted　workers　of　Cinchare；　even
Bure's　corrupted　brethren　from　the　Adeptus；　had　come　down　here　to　willingly　contribute　their　organic　matter　to　this　mass。
As　the　translithopede　came　into　view；　it　rose　up；　forming　a　great；　rearing　worm　of　red　ooze　and　blackened　meat　fifty　metres　high。　A
ghastly　mouth；　big　enough　to　swallow　a　prospecting　pod；　gaped　wide　in　its　cresting　head；　and　it　belched　a　vast　ball　of　flaming　gases　at
us。
The　translithopede　shook；　warning　hooters　sounded；　and　the　picture　was　lost。　One　control　station　below　exploded；　throwing　its　servitor
to　the　deck。　Smoke　billowed　through　the　chamber。
'Such　power。'　Bure　marvelled；　emotionless。　The　whole　machine　lurched　again；　more　violently；　and　we　stumbled；　despite　the　internal
gravity　systems　and　inertial　dampers。
The　screen　image　restored；　jumping；　for　a　brief　moment；　enough　to　see　that　the　blasphemy　seemed　to　be　coiling　itself　around　us。　The
hull　creaked　and　protested。　Minor　explosions　rang　out　from　lower　decks。　Plated　seams　bulged　and　several　rivets　flew　out　like　bullets。
'Bure！'
'I　will　break　it！　I　will　cast　it　out！'
'Bure！　In　the　name　of　the　Emperor！'

He　wasn't　listening。　All　his　efforts　were　focussed　on　the　mind…impulse　link　driving　the　translithopede；　on　the　orchestration　of　his
stalkers　as　they　rallied　to　counter…attack　the　monstrosity。　His　confidence　in　the　supremacy　of　the　Machine　over　all　things　was　blinding
him　to　the　very　real　possibility　that　the　formidable　Cult　Mechanicus　had　just　met　its　match。
I　turned　to　Medea　and　Aemos。
'Come　on！'　I　cried。
WE　WERE　HALFWAY　down　the　translithopede's　main　companionway；　heading　towards　the　rear　of　the　great　machine；　when　a　still　more
violent　impact　shook　it。　Without　warning；　the　inertial　dampers　failed　and　we　tumbled　as　the　burrower　was　rolled　onto　its　side。　The
glass　mantles　of　the　gas　lights　smashed；　and　weak　flame　sputtered　and　danced　along　the　walls。　There　was　a　further　series　of　terrific
impacts。
We　got　to　our　feet；　now　forced　to　use　the　curving　wall　as　a　floor。　The　pulsing　shriek　of　the　multi…lasers　was　by　then　a　constant　noise
outside。
Red　warning　lights　were　flashing　in　the　arched　dock…bay。　Our　pod　had　been　torn　from　its　cradle　by　the　latest　impact　and　lay　crumpled
on　its　side；　reclining　against　part　of　the　roof　arching。　But　the　oxide…red　pod　was　still　safely　locked　in　place。
Medea　and　I　jumped　down　from　the　dock's　inner　hatch　onto　the　ceiling；　but　Aemos　called　after　us。
'I　can't　make　that　jump；'　he　protested。　I　knew　he　was　right。
'Then　seal　the　hatch　and　get　back　to　help　Bure！'
'The　Emperor　protect　you　both！'　he　shouted　as　the　hatch　closed。
Power　cables　that　had　once　lain　on　the　deck　now　dangled　like　ropes。　Grabbing　one　each；　we　began　to　rappel　up　towards　the　pod　in　its
cradle。　We　were　halfway　there　when　the　world　seemed　to　shudder　again　and　the　translithopede　righted　itself　violently。　Medea　and　I
went　sprawling；　loose　debris　skittering　all　around　us。　I　had　barely　enough　time　to　dive　and　heave　Medea　aside　before　our　own　wrecked
pod　came　crunching　back　down　the　wall；　slamming　sideways　onto　the　floor。
Another　lurch　and　the　deck　tipped　the　other　way；　out　of　true　by　about　twenty　degrees。　The　unanchored　pod　began　sliding　across　the
deck　towards　us。
'Get　in！'　Medea　yelled。　'Get　in！'　She　had　the　side　hatch　of　the　red　pod　open　and　dragged　me　halfway　inside。　A　moment　later；　and　the
translithopede　rocked　back　thirty　degrees　in　the　other　direction。
The　loose　pod　immediately　squealed　back　across　the　deck　and　crashed　into　the　wall　bulkheads。　I　was　dangling　by　my　hands　from　the
open　hatch。
'Crap！　Get　in！　Get　the　hell　in！'　Medea　wailed；　fighting　to　hold　on　to　me。　I　grunted　and　swung　my　legs　up　so　that　my　toe　caps　caught　the
door　sill。　With　a　further　effort；　I　managed　to　pull　myself　up；　and　Medea　slammed　the　hatch。
There　was　still　more　shaking　and　rocking。　We　clambered　in　to　the　seats　of　the　pilot　station　in　the　low　cockpit；　and　strapped　on　the
harnesses。　Medea　was　keying　the　pod's　drive　ignition　when　the　translithopede　inverted　again　and　left　us　hanging　in　our　seats　by　the
safety　straps。　The　pod　was　now　locked　in　its　cradle　on　the　roof。
'This'll　be　fun；'　Medea　laughed　aggressively。　She　had　sent　a　remote　command　to　open　the　dock…bay's　shutter　doors。　Then　she　powered
the　pod's　engines　to　full　thrust　and　disengaged　the　cradle　lock。
For　a　dizzying　second；　we　dropped；　upside　down；　like　a　rock。　Then　she　hit　the　thrusters　and　looped　us。　We　missed　the　dock…bay　roof
by　a　hands…breadth　and　flew　out　through　the　opening　shutters　even　as　the　entire　translithopede　rolled　over　again。
THE　BLASPHEMY　HAD　wrapped　itself　around　Bure's　great　subterranean　bur…rower　with　constricting　coils。　It　thrashed　and　shook　the
machine；　and　I　could　clearly　see　the　armoured　hull　beginning　to　buckle　and　crumple。　There　were　smoking　sockets　where　some　of　the
multi…laser　batteries　had　been　ripped　away。　The　stalkers　were　converging　on　the　wrestling　giants；　strafing　the　Chaos　worm　with
furious　barrages。　The　remains　of　several　lay　crushed　where　the　translithopede　had　rolled　on　them。
Medea　banked　us　around；　trying　to　speed…familiarise　herself　with　the　control　layout。
'What　do　we　do？　I　take　it　you've　got　a　plan？'
I　shook　my　head。　'I'm　working　on　it。'　Bure's　pod　was　unarmed　…　I　know　this　because　I　checked　feverishly　the　moment　we　were
airborne　…　and　there　was　nothing　that　might　be　turned　into　an　offensive　weapon　apart　from　a　mining　laser　under　the　chin　of　the　cockpit。
A　mining　laser　with　fierce　cutting　power　and　a　range　of　about　five　metres。
'Take　us　deeper　into　the　cavern；'　I　said；　consulting　the　display　on　the　pod's　geologicae　auspex。
'Away　from　the　fight？'
'We　can't　engage　that　thing…　so　we　find　the　Lith　instead。　And　that　return　has　got　to　be　it。'
There　was　a　pulsing　cursor　on　the　screen：　big；　unmistakable。
Cultists　on　the　cave　floor　blasted　at　us　as　we　zipped　over　them　and　headed　off　down　the　long；　volcanic　cavern。　Spumes　of　pyroclastic
wrath　detonated　up　from　the　lava　lakes　and　threatened　to　envelop　us。
Then　we　saw　the　Lith。
It　had　been　buried　in　a　plug　of　obsidian　jutting　from　the　cavern　wall；　but　serious　excavation　work　had　been　done　to　reveal　it。
Heavy　mining　pods　and　anti…grav　drill　platforms　sat　on　the　ash　slopes　below　it；　and　the　ground　was　covered　in　fragments　of　obsidian。
It　was；　as　Bure　had　described；　a　perfect　decahedron　four　metres　across；　dark　green　and　glassy　like　water…ice。　It　glowed　with　an　inner
light。　Even　from　a　distance；　it　felt　malevolent。　I　sensed　an　unnerving　tickling　at　the　edge　of　my　psychic　range。　Medea　looked　sick。
'I　don't　want　to　get　any　closer；'　she　said　suddenly。
'We　have　to！'
'And　do　what？'
I　wondered　if　we　could　cut　it　with　the　mining　laser。　I　wondered　indeed　if　that　would　do　any　good。　I　doubted　we　would　make　much　of
dent　in　it　even　if　we　power…dived　the　pod　at　it。
Yet；　the　cultists　had　shaved　splinters　from　it　to　promulgate　their　evil。　It　was　vulnerable…　unless　it　had　somehow　allowed　the　splinters
to　be　removed。
We　certainly　couldn't　move　it。
I　could　feel　it　now；　whispering　in　my　head。　There　were　no　words；　just　a　murmur　that　chilled　my　spine。　Insidious；　slow…　slow　like
eons　of　geological　time；　slow　like　a　glacier　or　a　tectonic　plate。　It　spoke　softly　and　without　haste；　gently　unfolding　its　seductive
message。　It　had　no　need　to　rush。　It　had　all　the　time　in　the　galaxy…
The　pod　yawed　wildly。　I　started　and　looked　around。　Medea　had　lost　partial　control　because　she　had　turned　to　be　violently　sick　over　the
side　of　her　seat。　Her　skin　was　blanched　and　she　was　panting　and　sweating。
'I…　I　can't…'　she　gasped。　'Don't　make　me　go　any　closer…'
She　had　reached　her　limits。　I　leaned　over　and　put　my　hand　against　the　side　of　her　head。　'Sleep；'　I　said　softly；　using　the　will。
She　sank　into　merciful　unconsciousness。
I　took　the　controls。
I　was　no　flier　like　Medea　Betancore；　and　for　a　moment；　I　thought　I　was　going　to　dive　us　nose…first　into　the　lake　of　bubbling　magma　as
I　fumbled　with　the　actuators。
But　Medea's　late　father　had　trained　me　well　enough。　I　swooped　low　over　the　pool　of　molten　rock；　creating　a　Shockwave　vortex　in　the
brimstone；　and　banked　around　a　massive　anthragate　column　that　rose　up　into　the　jagged　roof。　There　was　just　a　last　wide　lake　of　fire
between　me　and　the　ash　shore　where　the　Lith　was　exposed。
It　was　whispering　again；　but　I　shook　it　off。　I　had　trained　my　mind　hard　to　resist　the　ministrations　of　Chaos　and　its　psychic　wiles。　This
was　how　it　turned　weak　minds。　This　was　how　it　had　polluted　and　tainted　the　population　of　Cinchare　minehead。　The　whispering…　the
formles