Fifteen Hours(科幻战争)-第30章

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And　then；　as　about　him　the　others　sat　quietly　in　the　trench　and　listened；　Larn　told　them　the　same
tale　his　father　had　told　him　in　the　farmhouse　cellar　on　his　last　night　at　home。
He　told　them　about　his　great…grandfather。　About　how　his　name　was　Augustus　and　he　had　been　born
on　a　world　called　Arcadus　V。　He　told　them　about　his　being　called　into　the　Guard；　and　how　sad　he
had　felt　at　leaving　his　homeworld。　He　told　them　about　the　thirty　years　of　service　and　his　greatgrandfather’s
failing　health。　He　told　them　about　the　lottery　and　the　man　who　had　given　up　his　ticket。
He　told　them　it　iracle；　perhaps。　But；　a　miracle　all　the　same。　Then；　when　he
had　told　them　all　these　things　word　for　word　the　same　as　his　father　had　told　him；　Larn　fell　quiet　and
waited　to　hear　their　reaction。
“And　that　is　it？”　Davir　said；　the　first　to　speak　after　what　felt　to　Larn　like　an　age　of　silence。　“That
is　the　proof　you　talked　about？　This　tale　your　father　told　you？”
“It　is　an　interesting　story；　new　fish；”　Scholar　said；　his　expression　ill　at　ease。
“Hah！　Story　is　right；”　Zeebers　said；　looking　sarcastically　down　at　Larn　from　up　on　the　firing
step。　“A　fairy　story；　like　parents　tell　their　children　to　make　them　sleep。　You　believe　that　crap；　new
fish；　maybe　you　should　go　tell　your　story　to　the　orks　and　see　if　a　miracle　saves　you　then。”
“Shut　up；　Zeebers！”　Bulaven　snapped。　“You’re　supposed　to　be　on　watch；　not　flapping　your　lips
about。　And　it　is　not　as　though　anyone　asked　for　your　opinion。　Leave　the　new　fish　alone。”　Then；
seeing　he　had　cowed　Zeebers　to　silence；　Bulaven　turned　towards　Larn　again。　“Scholar　was　right；
new　fish。　It　was　a　very　interesting　story；　and　you　told　it　well。”
“Is　that　all　you　are　going　to　say？”　Larn　asked；　surprised。　“You　all　sound　like　you　think
something　is　wrong。　As　though　you　don’t　believe　what　I　just　told　you。”
“We　don’t　believe　it；　new　fish。”　Davir　was　blunt。　“Granted；　Scholar　and　Bulaven　are　trying　to　be
soothing　about　it。　But　they　don’t　believe　it　either。　None　of　us　do。　Frankly；　if　the　story　you　just　told
us　is　what　passes　your　benchmark　for　a　miracle；　you　are　even　more　of　an　innocent　than　you　look。”
“I　would　have　expected　you　to　say　that　Davir；”　Larn　said。　“You　don’t　believe　in　anything。　But
what　about　the　rest　of　you？　Scholar？　Bulaven？　Surely　you　can　see　that　what　happened　to　my　greatgrandfather
was　a　miracle？　That　it　is　proof　that　the　Emperor　watches　out　for　us？”
“It　is　not　a　matter　of　believing　you；”　Scholar　said；　lifting　his　shoulders　in　a　helpless　shrug。　“It　is
just　that　even　if　we　accept　the　details　of　your　story　are　true；　new　fish；　those　same　details　are　open　to
a　variety　of　interpretations。”
“Interpretations？”　Larn　said。　“What　are　you　talking　about？
“He　is　saying　you　are　being　naive；　new　fish；”　Davir　said。　“Oh；　he’s　doing　it　in　that　scholarly　way
of　his；　of　course　—　just　tip…toeing　around　the　subject　rather　than　coming　right　out　and　saying　what　is
on　his　mind　directly。　But　he　thinks　you　are　naive。　We　all　do。”
“You　have　to　understand　our　experience　of　life　makes　us　see　these　things　differently；”　Scholar
said。
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“But　how　is　there　any　different　way　to　see　it？”　Larn　said。　“You　heard　the　story。　What　about　the
man　giving　my　great…grandfather　his　ticket？　Surely　you　can　see　that　must　have　been　the　hand　of　the
Emperor　at　work？”
“Far　be　it　for　me　to　shatter　your　illusions；　new　fish；”　Davir　said。　“But　I　doubt　the　hand　of　the
Emperor　had　anything　to　do　with　it。　No；　likely　the　only　hands　involved　in　it　at　all　would　have
belonged　to　your　great…grandfather。”
“I…　What　do　you　mean？”
“He　killed　him；　new　fish；”　Davir　said。　“The　man　with　the　ticket。　Your　great…grandfather　killed
him　and　took　his　ticket　from　him。　That’s　your　miracle。”
“No；”　Larn　said；　looking　quietly　from　face　to　face　in　disbelief。　“You　are　wrong。”
“Course　I　can　see　how　it　could　have　happened；”　Davir　said。　“There’s　your　great…grandfather。
He’s　sick。　Ailing。　He　knows　winning　the　lottery　is　his　only　chance　of　making　it　out　of　the　Guard
alive。　Then；　when　someone　else　gets　the　winning　ticket；　he　realises　only　that　one　man’s　life　stands
between　him　and　freedom。　And　he　was　a　soldier。　He’d　killed　before。　What　is　one　more　life　in　the
grand　scale　of　things；　he　tells　himself。　It’s　a　dog…eat…dog　universe；　new　fish；　and　it　sounds　like　your
great…grandfather　was　a　dirtier　dog　than　most。”
“No；”　Larn　said。　“You’re　not　listening　to　me。　I’m　telling　you；　you’re　wrong　about　this。　You　are
sick；　Davir。　How　could　you　even　think　something　like　that？”
“It　is　the　name；　new　fish；”　Scholar　said　sadly。　“Or　the　lack　of　one；　I　mean’
“Yes；　the　name；”　Davir　said。　“That’s　what　clinches　it”
“What　are　you…　I　don’t　understand…”
“They’re　talking　about　the　name　of　the　man　who　gave　your　great…grandfather　the　ticket；　new
fish；”　Bulaven　said　with　a　sigh。　“It　wasn’t　part　of　the　story。　And　you　must　be　able　to　see　that　makes
all　the　difference？　I　am　sorry　to　tell　you　this；　but　that　is　what　proves　your　great…grandfather　killed
him。”
“The　name？”　Larn　was　floundering　now；　his　stomach　churning；　his　head　dizzying　as　though　the
world　about　him　had　suddenly　begun　to　turn　strangely　on　its　axis。
“Think　about　it；　new　fish；”　Davir　said。　“This　man　is　supposed　to　have　saved　your　greatgrandfather’s
life。　Your　great…grandfather　must　have　known　his　name。　He　was　a　comrade　of　his；
remember？　A　man　who　had　fought　side…by…side　with　him　through　thirty　years　in　the　Guard？　And
yet；　years　later；　when　your　great…grandfather　tells　the　tale　to　his　son　he　somehow　neglects　to　even
mention　the　name　of　the　man　who　saved　his　life？　It　doesn’t　add　up；　new　fish。　Especially　considering
you　told　us　your　great…grandfather　was　a　pious　man。　A　man　like　that；　if　somebody　does　them　a　good
turn　they　remember　them　in　their　prayers　to　the　Emperor　for　the　rest　of　their　life。”
“It　does　have　the　ring　of　a　guilty　conscience　about　it；　new　fish。”　Scholar　said。　“Though；　if　it　is
any　consolation　to　you；　it　also　suggests　your　great…grandfather　was　not　given　easily　to　murder。　If
he’d　been　a　more　coldblooded　man；　presumably　he’d　have　just　told　his　son　the　man’s　name　and
thought　no　more　about　it。”
“Not　really；　Scholar；”　Davir　said。　“Even　though　years　had　passed　by　then；　he　could’ve　still　been
worried　about　his　crime　being　found　out。　Maybe　he　thought　it　was　better　to　let　bad　dogs　lie；　and
never　mention　the　name　ever。　Either　way；　it　doesn’t　really　make　any　difference。　Your　greatgrandfather
killed　the　man；　new　fish；　and　stole　his　ticket。　That’s　all　there　is　to　it。　So　much　for
miracles。”
“No。　You’ve　got　it　wrong；”　Larn　said。　“There　must　be　another　explanation。　One　you　haven’t
thought　of。　Surely　you　can　see　that　my　great…grandfather　wouldn’t　have　done　anything　like　that？”
But　as　Larn　looked　at　them　it　was　clear　to　him　that　was　exactly　what　they　did　believe。　Davir；
Scholar；　Bulaven；　Zeebers。　All　of　them。　Looking　at　the　faces　of　each　man　in　the　trench；　Larn　could
see　their　minds　were　made　up。　There　had　been　no　miracle。　No　example　of　the　Emperor’s　grace。　To
them；　it　was　a　simple　matter。　His　great…grandfather　had　killed　a　man；　then　lied　about　it　afterwards。
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“No；”　Larn　said　at　last；　hating　how　weak　his　voice　sounded　and　way　it　wavered。　“No。　You　are
wrong。　You　are　wrong　and　I　don’t　believe　you。”
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CHAPTER　TWELVE
18：58　hours　Central　Broucheroc　Time
Sector　Command　and　the　Portents　of　a　Coming　Storm　—　Larn　Sulks　—　Davir　at　Last　Finds　a
Reason　to　be　Cheerful　—　Meal　Time　in　Barracks　Dugout　One　—　The　Culinary　Arts　as　According　to
Trooper　Skench　—　A　Discussion　as　to　the　Advantages　of　Artillery　in　the　Hunting　of　Big　Lizards
“Here　are　the　raw　contact　reports　for　the　last　half…hour；　sir；”　Sergeant　Valtys　said；　holding　out　a
sheaf　of　papers　as　thick　as　his　thumb　in　his　outstretched　hand。　“You　said　you　wanted　to　see　them
immediately；　before　they　were　collated。”
Sitting　at　his　desk　in　his　small　office　at　Sector　Command　Beta　（Eastern　Divisions；　Sectors　1…10
to　1…20）；　Colonel　Kallad　Drezlen　turned　to　take　the　papers　from　Valtys　and　begin　to　read　them。
There　must　be　two　hundred　reports　here　at　least；　he　thought。　Each　one　recording　a　separate
incident　of　contact　with　the　enemy。　Two　hundred；　when　usually　at　this　time　of　day　we　would　expect
to　get　no　more　than　eighty　or　so　in　an　hour。　It　looks　like　the　orks　are　getting　restless　hereabouts　and
that　is　never　a　good　sign。　Something　must　he　coming。
“How　bad　is　it；　Jaak？”　he　asked；　raising　his　eyes　from　the　reports　to　look　at　the　sergeant。
“Bad　enough；　sir；”　Valtys　replied；　still　standing　ramrod…straight　beside　the　colonel’s　desk　as
though　he　thought　he　was　on　a　parade　ground　muster。　“Five　of　our　sectors　report　coming　under
heavy　shellfire　from　the　orks。　Another　two　report　incidents　of　massed　assaults。　Then；　we　have
received　something　like　a　hundred　different　reports　from　across　all　sectors　of　contacts　ranging　from
raiding　parties　to　an　increase　in　the　number　of　gretch　snipers　and　scouts　in　no…man’s　land。　Looks
like　there’s　a　real　shitstorm　brewing；　colonel；　if　you　pardon　my　language。”
“Hhh。　You　are　pardoned；　Jaak；”　Drezlen　said；　looking　up　at　the　non…com’s　grizzled　face　with　a
quiet　amusement　born　of　long　familiarity　with　his　ways。　“What　about　Sector　Commands　Alpha　and
Gamma？　Are　they　having　the　same　problem　with　flying　faeces？”
“No　and　I　have　to　admit　that’s　what　put　the　wind　up　me；　sir。　Our　neighbouring　Sector
Commands　say　they’re　having　a　quiet　time　of　it。　Too　quiet；　if　you　ask　me。”
“As　though　the　orks　were　planning　something；　you　mean？”　Drezlen　said；　his　face　serious　now　as
he　gave　voice　to　the　thought　hanging　communally　in　the　air　between　them。　“Concentrating　their
forces　here；　as　though　they　are　about　to　launch　a　major　offensive？”
“Yes；　sir。　Course；　I　know　that’s　not　supposed　to　happen。　I　know　General　HQ　say　the　orks　aren’t
smart　enough　to　coordinate　something　like　that。　But　I’ve　got　a　metal　pin　in　me；　holding　my　left　knee
together　from　the　time　an　ork　shot　blew　a　fist…sized　hole　in　it。　Ever　since　I　got　it；　that　pin　has　always
started　itching　whenever　the　orks　were　up　to　something。　And　right　now　it’s　itching　worse　than　a　redarsed
monkey　that’s　been　sitting　in　a　mound　of　firebugs。”
“