The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第49章

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this　was　a　bad　omen；　but　Inshabel　insisted　it　was　a　good　one。
I　suppose　it　rather　depended　which　part　of　the　vast　spread　of　the　Imperium　you　came　from。
THE　OTHERS　SPENT　the　next　two　days　packing　up　and　making　ready　to　leave；　but　Aemos　and　I　attended　the　dedication　ceremony　in　the
cimeliarch　of　the　Adeptus　Mechanicus　annex。
Machine　Cult　servitors　chanted　in　a　modulated　binary　code　and　beat　upon　kettledrums。　Magos　Bure　was　clad　in　his　orange　robes　with
a　white　stole　over　his　shoulders。
He　blessed　the　weapons　he　had　made　in　turn；　taking　one　then　the　other　from　the　two　tech…adepts　who　stood　in　attendance。
Barbarisater；　the　pentagrammatic　power　sword；　lifted　to　the　light　that　speared　down　from　the　eyes　of　the　Machine　God's　altar。　Then
the　runestaff；　Bure's　masterpiece。
He　had　fashioned　a　cap…piece　for　the　rune…etched　steel　pole　out　of　elec…trum　in　the　form　of　a　sun…flare　corona。　In　the　centre　of　it　was　a
human　skull；　marked　with　the　thirteenth　sign　of　castigation。　The　skull　was　the　lodestone；　carved　by　Bure　himself　into　a　perfect
facsimile　of　my　own　skull；　as　measured　by　radiative　scans。　He　had　tried　and　rejected　over　twenty　different　tele…empathic　crystals
before　finding　one　he　trusted　would　be　up　to　the　task。
'It's　beautiful；'　I　said；　taking　it　from　him。　'What　crystal　did　you　use　in　the　end？'
'What　else？'　he　said。　'I　carved　that　copy　of　your　skull　from　the　Lith　itself！'
HE　CAME　TO　see　us　off；　to　the　docking　barn　where　the　gun…cutter　had　sat　for　so　long。　Nayl　and　Fischig　were　carrying　the　last　things
aboard。　We　had　broken　astropathic　silence　at　last　the　night　before；　and　informed　Imperial　Allied；　Ortog　Promethium；　the　Adeptus
Mechanicus　and　the　Imperial　authorities　of　the　fate　that　had　befallen　Cinchare　minehead。　We　would　be　long　gone　before　any　of　them
arrived　to　begin　recovery　work。
Bure　said　farewell　to　Aemos；　who　shuffled　away　to　the　cutter。
'There's　nothing　adequate　I　can　say；'　I　told　the　magos。
'Nor　I　to　you；　Eisenhorn。　What　of…　the　inmate？'
'I'd　like　you　to　do　what　I　asked　you。　Give　him　mobility　at　least。　But　nothing　more。　He　must　remain　a　prisoner；　now　and　always。'
'Very　well。　I　expect　to　hear　all　about　your　victory；　Eisenhorn。　I　will　be　waiting。'
'May　the　Holy　Machine　God　and　the　Emperor　himself　protect　your　systems；　Geard。'
'Thank　you；'　he　said。　Then　he　added　something　that　quite　took　me　aback；　given　his　total　belief　and　reliance　on　technology。
'Good　luck。'
I　walked　to　the　cutter。　He　watched　me　for　a　moment；　then　disappeared；　closing　the　inner　hatch　after　him。
That　was　the　last　time　I　ever　saw　him。
FROM　CINCHARE；　THE　Essene　ran　back；　fast　and　impatient；　into　the　great　territories　of　the　Segmentum　Obscurus；　a　three　month　voyage
that　we　broke　twice。

At　Ymshalus；　we　stopped　to　transmit　the　prepared　communiques；　all　twenty　of　them。　Inshabel　and　Fischig　left　us　too　at　that　point；
Inshabel　to　secure　passage　to　Elvara　Cardinal　to　begin　his　work　there；　and　Fischig　for　the　long　haul　back　to　Cadia。　It　would　be　months；
if　not　years；　before　we　saw　them　again。　That　was　a　sorrowful　farewell。
At　Palobara；　that　crossroads　on　the　border；　busy　with　trading　vessels　and　obscura　caravans　guarded　by　mercenary　gunships；　we
stopped　and　transmitted　the　carta　declaration。　There　was　no　going　back　now。　Here；　I　parted　company　os；
all　of　whom　were　heading　back　to　the　Helican　subsector　by　a　variety　of　means。　Bequin's　goal　was　Messina；　and　Aemos；　with　Nayl　to
watch　over　him；　was　bound　for　Gudrun。　Another　hard　parting。
THE　ESSENE　CONTINUED　on　for　Orbul　Infanta。　This　was　now　a　lonely；　waiting　time。　Each　night；　the　remains　of　my　company　gathered
in　Maxilla's　dining　room　and　ate　together：　myself；　Medea；　Maxilla　and　Ungish。　Ungish　was　no　company；　and　even　Medea　and　Maxilla
had　lost　their　sparkle。　They　missed　the　others；　and　I　think　they　knew　how　dark　and　tough　the　time　ahead　would　be。
I　spent　my　days　reading　in　the　cabin　library　of　the　cutter；　or　playing　regicide　with　Medea。　I　practised　with　Barbarisater　in　the　hold
spaces；　slowly　mastering　the　tricks　of　its　weight　and　balance。　I　would　never　match　a　Carthae…born　master；　but　I　had　always　been　good
enough　with　a　sword。　Barbarisater　was　an　extraordinary　piece。　I　came　to　know　it　and　it　came　to　know　me。　Within　a　week；　it　was
responding　to　my　will；　channelling　it　so　hard　that　the　rune　marks　glowed　with　manifesting　psychic　power。　It　had　a　will　of　its　own；　and
once　it　was　in　my　hands；　ready；　swinging；　it　was　difficult　to　stop　it　pulling　and　slicing　where　it　pleased。　It　hungered　for　blood…　or　if
not　blood；　then　at　least　the　joy　of　battle。　On　two　separate　occasions；　Medea　came　into　the　hold　to　see　if　I　was　bored　enough　for　another
round　of　regicide；　and　I　had　to　restrain　the　steel　from　lunging　at　her。
Its　sheer　length　was　a　problem：　I　had　never　used　a　blade　so　long。　I　worried　that　I　would　do　my　own　extremities　harm。　But　practice
gave　me　the　gift　of　it：　long…armed；　flowing　moves；　sweeping　strokes；　a　tight　field　of　severing。　Within　a　fortnight；　I　had　mastered　the
knack　of　spinning　it　over　in　my　hand；　my　open　palm　and　the　pommel　circling　around　each　other　like　the　discs　of　a　gyroscope。　I　was
proud　of　that　move。　I　think　Barbarisater　taught　it　to　me。
I　worked　with　the　rune　staff　too；　to　get　used　to　its　feel　and　balance。　Though　my　aim　was　appalling；　especially　over　distances　further
than　three　or　four　metres；　I　became　able　to　channel　my　will；　through　my　hands；　into　its　haft　and　then　project　it　from　the　crystal　skull　in
the　form　of　electrical　bolts　that　dented　deck　plating。
There　was；　of　course；　no　way　I　could　test　it　for　its　primary　use。
WE　REACHED　THE　shrine　world　of　Orbul　Infanta　at　the　end　of　the　twelfth　week。　I　had　three　tasks　to　perform　here；　and　the　first　was　the
consecration　of　the　sword　and　the　staff。
With　Ungish　and　Medea；　I　travelled　down　to　the　surface　in　one　of　the　Essene's　unremarkable　little　launches　rather　than　the　gun…cutter。
We　went　to　Ezropolis；　one　of　Orbul　Infanta's　ten　thousand　shrine　cities；　in　the　baking　heartland　of　the　western　continent。
Orbul　Infanta　is　an　Ecclesiarchy　governed　world；　famously　blessed　with　a　myriad　shrines；　each　one　dedicated　to　a　different　Imperial
saint；　and　each　one　the　heart　of　a　city　state。　The　Ecclesiarch　chose　it　as　a　shrine　world　because　it　lay　on　a　direct　line　between　Terra　and
Avignor。　The　most　popular　and　thriving　shrine　cities　lay　on　the　coast　of　the　eastern　continent；　and　billions　of　the　faithful　flocked　to
them　each　year。　Ezropolis　was　far　away　from　such　bustle。
Saint　Ezra；　who　had　been　martyred　in　670。M40；　was　the　patron　saint　of　undertaking　and　setting　forth；　which　I　took　to　be　appropriate。
His　city　was　a　shimmering　growth　of　steel；　glass　and　stone　rising　from　the　sun…cooked　plains　of　the　mid…west。　According　to　the　guide
slates；　all　water　was　pumped　in　from　the　western　coast　along　vast　pipelines　two　thousand　kilometres　long。
We　made　planetfall　at　Ezra　Plain；　the　principal　landing　facility；　and　joined　the　queues　of　pilgrims　climbing　the　looping　stairs　into　the
citadel。　Most　were　clad　in　yellow；　the　saint's　colour；　or　had　tags　or　swathes　of　yellow　cloth　adorning　them。　All　carried　lit　candles　or　oil
lamps；　despite　the　unforgiving　light。　Ezra　had　promised　to　light　a　flame　in　the　darkness　to　mark　all　those　setting　forth；　and
consequently　his　hagial　colour　was　flame　yellow。
We　had　done　the　necessary　research。　I　wore　a　suit　of　black　linen　with　a　sash　of　yellow　silk　and　carried　a　burning　votive　candle。　Ungish
was　draped　in　a　pale　yellow　robe　the　colour　of　the　sun　at　dawn；　and　clutched　a　plaster　figurine　of　the　saint。　Medea　wore　a　dark　red
bodyglove　under　a　tabard　on　which　bol。　She　pushed　the　small　grav…cart　on　which　Barbarisater　and　the
staff　lay；　wrapped　in　yellow　velvet。　It　was　common　for　pilgrims　to　cart　their　worldly　goods　to　the　shrine　of　Ezra；　in　order　that　they
might　be　blessed　before　any　kind　of　undertaking　or　setting　forth　could　properly　get　underway。　We　blended　easily　with　the　teaming
lines　of　sweating；　anxious　devotees。
At　the　top　of　the　stairs；　we　entered　the　blessed　cool　of　the　streets；　where　the　shadows　of　the　buildings　fell　across　us。　It　was　nearly
midday；　and　Ecclesiarchy　choirs　were　singing　from　the　platforms　that　topped　the　high；　slender　towers。　Bells　were　chiming；　and　yellow
sapfinches　were　being　released　by　the　thousand　from　basket　cages　in　the　three　city　squares。　The　thrumming　ochre　clouds　of　birds
swirled　up　above　us；　around　us；　singing　in　bewilderment。　They　were　brought　in　each　day；　a　million　at　a　time；　from　gene…farm　aviaries
on　the　coast；　where　they　were　bred　in　industrial　quantities。　They　were　not　native　to　this　part　of　Orbul　Infanta；　and　would　perish　within
hours　of　release　into　the　parched　desert。　It　was　reported　that　the　plains　around　Ezropolis　were　ankle…deep　with　the　residue　of　their
white　bones　and　bright　feathers。
But　still；　they　were　the　symbol　of　undertaking　and　setting　forth；　and　so　they　were　set　loose　by　the　million　to　certain　death　every
midday。　There　is　a　terrible　irony　to　this　which　I　have　often　thought　of　bringing　to　the　attention　of　the　Ecclesiarchy。　
WE　WENT　TO　the　Cathedral　of　Saint　Ezra　Outlooking；　a　significant　temple　on　the　western　side　of　the　city。　On　every　eave　and　wall　top
we　passed；　sapfinches　perched　and　twittered　with　what　seemed　to　me　to　be　indignation。

The　cathedral　itself　was　admittedly　splendid；　a　Low　Gothic　minster　raised　in　the　last　thirty　years　and　paid　for　by　subscriptions
generated　by　the　city　fathers　and　priesthood。　Every　visitor　who　entered　the　city　walls　was　obliged　to　deposit　two　high　denomination
coins　into　the　take　boxes　at　either　side　of　the　head　of　the　approach　stairs。　A　yellow　robed　adept　of　the　priesthood　was　there　to　see　it
was　done。　The　box　on　the　left　was　the　collection　for　the　maintenance　and　construction　of　the　city　temples。　The　one　on　the　right　was　the
sapfinch　fund。
We　went　inside　Saint　Ezra　Outlooking；　into　the　cool　of　the　marble　nave　where　the　faithful　were　bent　in　prayer　and　the　hard　sunlight
made　coloured　patterns　on　everything　as　it　slanted　through　the　huge；　stained　glass　windows。　The　cool　air　was　sweetened　by　the　smoke
of　sweetwood　burners；　and　livened　by　the　jaunty　singing　from　the　cantoria。
I　left　Medea　and　Ungish　in　the　arched　doorway　beside　a　tomb　on　which　lay　the　graven　image　of　a　Space　Marine　of　th