The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第5章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


the　hills　of　the　Tito　Basin　like　the　scaled　hide　of　some　prehistoric　reptile。　The　sky　was　a　magnolia　haze；　and　a　light　breeze　breathed。　It
was　almost　impossible　now　to　picture　this　place　beset　by　the　filthy；　permanent　shadows　of　the　Darknight。
Now；　perhaps；　I　knew　why　Tantalid　had　returned。　The　Ophidian　war　was　over；　and　his　holy　mission　concluded　with　it。
'I　remember　them　setting　out；　don't　you？'　I　asked。
A　foolish　question。　My　savant　was　a　data…addict；　driven　since　the　age　of　forty…two　standard　to　collect　and　retain　all　manner　of
information　thanks　to　a　meme…virus　he　had　contracted。　There　was　no　possibility　of　him　forgetting　anything。　He　scratched　the　side　of
his　hooked　nose　where　his　heavy　augmetic　eye…pieces　touched。
'How　could　either　of　us　forget　that？'　he　replied。　'The　summer　of　240。　Hunting　the　Glaw　clan　on　Gudrun　during　the　very　Founding
itself。'
Indeed；　we　had　played　a　particular　role　in　delaying　the　start　of　the　Ophidian　Campaign。　The　Warmaster；　or　lord　militant　as　he　had　been
back　then；　had　been　all　but　set　to　launch　his　purge　into　Ophidian　space　when　my　investigation　of　the　heretic　Glaw　family　had　triggered
a　mass　uprising　later　known　as　the　Helican　Schism。　To　his　great　surprise　and　displeasure；　the　Warmaster　had　been　abruptly　forced　to
redirect　his　readied　forces　in　a　pacification　of　his　very　own　subsector。
Warmaster　Honorius。　Honorius　Magnus　they　were　calling　him。　I　had　never　met　him；　nor　had　I　much　wish　to。　A　brutal　man；　as　are　so
many　of　his　kind。　It　takes　a　special　mindset；　a　special　brutality；　to　crush　planets　and　populations。
'There　is　to　be　a　great　Jubilation　on　Thracian　Primaris；'　Aemos　said。　'A　Holy　Novena　congregated　by　the　Synod　the　High　Ecclesiarchy。
It　is　rumoured　that　the　Imperial　Lord　Commander　Helican　himself　will　attend；　specifically　to　bestow　upon　the　Warmaster　the　rank　of
Feudal　Protector。'
'I'm　sure　he'll　be　very　pleased。　Another　heavy　medallion　to　throw　at　his　officers　when　he's　annoyed。'
'You're　not　tempted　to　attend？'
I　laughed。　In　truth；　I　had　thought　to　return　to　the　Helican　subsector　capital　before　long。　Thracian　Primaris；　the　most　massive；
industrialised　and　populated　world　in　the　subsector；　had　wrested　capital　planet　status　from　ancient　Gudrun　after　the　disgrace　and
foment　of　the　Schism；　finally　achieving　the　preeminence　it　felt　its　size　and　power　had　long　deserved。　It　was　now　the　chief　Imperial
planet　of　this　region。

There　was　work　to　be　done；　reports　to　be　filed　and　presented；　and　those　things　could　best　be　achieved　by　returning　to　my　property　on
Thracian；　my　base　of　operations；　near　to　the　Palace　of　the　Inquisition。　But　I　had　little　love　for　Thracian　Primaris。　It　was　an　ugly　place；
and　I　only　made　my　headquarters　there　out　of　convenience。　The　thought　of　pomp　and　ceremony　and　festivals　filled　me　with　quiet
dread。
Perhaps　I　would　go　to　Messina　instead；　or　to　the　quiet　of　Gudrun；　where　I　maintained　a　small；　comfortable　estate。
'The　Inquisition　is　to　attend　in　great　strength。　Lord　Rorken　himself…'
I　waved　a　hand　in　Aemos's　direction。　'Does　it　appeal　to　you？'
'No。'
'Are　there　not　better　uses　for　our　time？　Pressing　matters？　Things　that　would　be　more　easily　achieved　away　from　such　overblown
distractions？'
'Most　certainly；'　he　said。
'Then　I　think　you　know　my　mind。'
'I　think　I　do；　Gregor；'　he　said；　rising　to　his　feet　and　reaching　into　the　pocket　of　his　green　robe。　'And　therefore　I'm　fully　prepared　for　the
fact　that　you're　going　to　curse　me　when　I　give　you　this。'
He　held　out　a　small　data…slate；　an　encrypted　message…tile　whose　contents　had　been　received　and　stored　by　the　astropaths。
The　official　seal　of　the　Inquisition　was　stamped　across　its　front。
THREE
CAPITAL　WORLD。
THE　OCEAN　HOUSE。
INTRUDERS；　PAST　AND　PRESENT。
THRACIAN　PRIMARIS；　CAPITAL　world　of　the　Helican　subsector；　seat　of　government；　Helican　subsector；　Scams　sector；　Segmentum
Obscurus。　You　can　read　that　description　in　any　one　of　a　hundred　thousand　guidebooks；　geographies；　Imperial　histories；　pilgrimage
primers；　industrial　ledgers；　trade　directories；　star　maps。　It　sounds　impressive；　authoritarian；　powerful。
It　does　no　justice　at　all　to　the　monster　it　describes。
I　have　known　hellholes　and　death…planets　that　from　space　look　serene　and　wondrous：　the　watercolours　of　their　atmospheres；　the
glittering　moons　and　belts　they　wear　like　bangles　and　jewels；　the　natural　wonders　that　belie　the　dangers　they　contain。
Thracian　Primaris　is　no　such　dissembler。　From　space；　it　glowers　like　an　oozing；　cataracted　eye。　It　is　corpulent；　swollen；　sheened　in
grey　veils　of　atmospheric　soot　through　which　the　billion　billion　lights　of　the　city　hives　glimmer　like　rotting　stars。　It　glares　balefully　at
all　ships　that　approach。
And；　oh！　But　they　approach！　Shoals　of　ships；　flocks　of　them；　countless　craft；　drawn　to　this　bloated　cesspit　by　the　lure　of　its　vast
industrial　wealth　and　mercantile　vigour。
It　has　no　moons；　no　natural　moons　anyway。　Five　Ramilies…class　star…forts　hang　above　its　atmosphere；　their　crenellated　towers　and
buttressed　gun…stations　guarding　the　approaches　to　and　from　the　capital　world。　A　dedicated　guild　of　forty　thousand　skilled　pilots　exists
simply　to　guide　traffic　in　and　out　of　the　jostling；　crowded　high…anchor　reaches。　It　has　a　planetary　defence　force；　a　standing　army　of
eight　million　men。　It　has　a　population　of　twenty…two　billion；　plus　another　billion　temporary　residents　and　visitors。　Seven…tenths　of　its
surface　are　now　covered　by　hive　structures；　including　great　sections　of　the　world's　original　oceans。　City…sprawl　fdls　and　covers　the
seas；　and　the　waters　roll　in　darkness　far　beneath。
I　loathe　the　place。　I　loathe　the　lightless　streets；　the　noise；　the　press　of　bodies。　I　loathe　the　stink　of　its　re…circulated　air。　I　loathe　its
airborne　grease…filth　adhering　to　my　clothes　and　skin。
But　fate　and　duty　bring　me　back　there；　time　and　again。
The　encrypted　Inquisitorial　missive　had　been　quite　clear：　I；　and　a　great　number　of　my　peers；　was　summoned　to　Thracian　Primaris　to
attend　the　Holy　Novena；　and　wait　upon　the　pleasure　of　the　Lord　Grandmaster　Inquisitor　Ubertino　Orsini。　Orsini　was　the　most　senior
officer　of　the　Inquisition　in　the　entire　Helican　subsector；　a　status　that　made　him　equal　in　rank　and　power　to　any　cardinal　palatine。
I　was　not　about　to　decline。
THE　VOYAGE　FROM　Lethe　Eleven　took　a　month；　and　I　brought　my　entire　entourage　back　with　me。　We　arrived　just　four　days　shy　of　the
start　of　the　Novena。　As　a　tiny　pilot　boat　led　my　ship　in　to　anchor　through　the　massed　ranks　of　orbiting　starships；　I　saw　the　dark
formations　of　Battlefleet　Scarus；　suckling　at　a　starfort　as　if　they　were　its　young。　This　was　their　heroic　homecoming。　There　was　a　taste
of　victory　in　the　air。　An　Imperial　triumph　on　this　scale　was　something　to　be　savoured；　something　the　Ministorum　could　use　to　boost
the　morale　of　the　common　citizenry。
'YOUR　ITINERARY　HAS　been　prepared；'　said　Alain　von　Baigg；　a　junior　interrogator　who　served　as　my　secretary。　We　were　aboard　the
gun…cutter；　dropping　towards　the　planet。
'Oh；　by　whom？'

He　paused。　Von　Baigg　was　a　diffident　and　lustreless　young　man　who　I　doubted　would　ever　make　the　rank　of　inquisitor。　I'd　accepted
him　to　my　staff　in　the　hope　that　service　alongside　Ravenor　might　inspire　him。　It　had　not。
'I　would　have　presumed　that　the　preparation　of　my　itinerary　might　have　included　my　own　choices。'
Von　Baigg　stammered　something。　I　took　the　data…slate　he　was　holding。　The　list　of　appointments　was　not　his　handiwork；　I　saw。　It　was
an　official　document；　processed　by　the　Ministoram's　nunciature　in　collaboration　with　the　Office　of　the　Inquisition。　My　timetable　for　all
nine　days　of　the　Holy　Novena　was　filled　with　audiences；　acts　of　worship；　feasts；　presentation　ceremonies；　unveilings　and　Ministorum
rites。　All　nine　days；　plus　the　days　before　and　after。
I　was　here；　damn　it！　I　had　responded　to　the　summons。　I　would　not　allow　myself　to　be　subjected　to　this　round　of　junkets　too。　I　took　a
stylus　and　quickly　marked　the　events　I　was　prepared　to　attend：　the　formal　rites；　the　Inquisitorial　audience；　the　Grand　Bestowment。
'That's　it；'　I　said；　tossing　it　back　to　him。　'The　rest　I'm　skipping。'　Von　Baigg　looked　uncomfortable。　'You　are　expected　at　the　Post…
Apostolic　Conclave　immediately　on　arrival。'
'Immediately　on　arrival；'　I　told　him　sternly；　'I'm　going　home。'
HOME；　FOR　ME；　was　the　Ocean　House；　a　private　residence　I　leased　in　the　most　select　quarter　of　Hive　Seventy。　On　many　hive　worlds；
the　rich　and　privileged　dwell　in　districts　high　up　in　the　top…most　city　spires；　divorced　as　far　as　possible　from　the　dirt　and　crowding　of
the　mid　and　low…hab　levels。　But　no　matter　how　high　you　climbed　on　Thracian　Primaris；　there　was　nothing　to　find　but　smog　and
pollution。
Instead；　the　exclusive　habitats　were　on　the　underside　of　the　hive　portions　that　extended　out　over　and　into　the　hidden　seas。　There　was　at
least　a　tranquillity　here。
MEDEA　BETANCORE　PLEW　the　gun…cutter　down　through　the　traffic…thick　atmosphere；　threaded　her　way　between　the　tawdry　domes；
dingy　towers；　rusting　masts　and　crumbling　spires；　and　laced　into　the　seething　lanes　of　air　vehicles　entering　a　vast　feeder　tunnel　which
gave　access　to　the　hives'　arterial　transit　network。
Bars　of　blue…white　light　set　into　the　walls　of　the　huge　tunnel　strobed　by　the　ports。　In　under　an　hour　we　had　reached　a　great　transit　hub；
three　kilometres　down　in　the　city…crust；　where　she　set　the　cutter　down　on　a　massive　elevator　platform　that　sedately　lowered　us　and　a
dozen　other　craft　into　the　sub…levels　of　Hive　Seventy。　The　cutter　was　then　berthed　in　a　private　lifter…drome　and　we　transferred　to　a
tuberail　for　the　final　stretch　to　the　maritime　habitats。
I　was　already　weary　of　Thracian　Primaris　by　the　time　I　reached　the　Ocean　House。
BUILT　FROM　PLASMA…SEALED　grandiorite　and　an　adamite　frame；　the　Ocean　House　was　one　of　a　thousand　estates　built　along　the
submarine　wall　of　Hive　Seventy。　It　was　nine　kilometres　beneath　the　city　crust　and　another　two　below　sea　level。　A　small　palace　by　the
standards　of　most　common　Imperial　citizens；　it　was　large　enough　to　house　my　entire　retinue；　my　libraries；　armoury　and　training
facilities；　not　to　mention　a　private　chapel；　an　audience　hall　and　an　entire　annex　for　Bequin's　Distaff。　It　was　also　secure；　private　and
quiet。
Jarat；　my　housekeeper；　was　wai