Gunheads(科幻战争)-第31章

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“Yes　she　could；”　said　Metzger。　His　voice　was　almost　a　growl。
“What？”　said　Wulfe。　It　was　rare　for　Metzger　to　speak　up；　but　it　was　the　confrontational　tone　of
his　voice　that　really　caught　Wulfe　by　surprise。
“She　could　have　picked　a　far　worse　time　to　give　out　on　us；　and　you　bloody　know　it；　sarge。　In
fact；　this　old　girl　has　lasted　out　longer　than　we　had　any　right　to　ask。　She’s　the　last　crate　in　the　whole
damned　company　to　give　out；　and　she　waited　right　up　until　now；　the　safest　moment　since　we　crashed
on　this　rock。　So；　I　don’t　give　a　five…copper　back…alley　frak　whether　we’re　a　laughing　stock　or　not；
I’m　bloody　glad　to　be　her　driver。　And　I　reckon　you　ought　to　shake　yourself。”　Wulfe　was　stunned。
“Yeah；　I　think　so；　too！”　said　Siegler　with　a　firm　nod　of　his　head。　Wulfe　looked　at　Holtz。　“Well？”
Holtz　scratched　his　chin。　“Three　against　one。　I　wouldn’t　change　her　for　any　other　crate　in　the
company；　and　that　includes　the　lieutenant’s　Vanquisher。　I　can’t　think　of　any　other　way　to　put　it；
sarge：　they　just　don’t　make　them　like　this　anymore。　She　ain’t　no　beauty；　but　she’ll　do　for　me。”
Wulfe　leaned　back　against　the　turret　wall；　looking　at　both　of　the　crewmen　who　shared　the　tiny
space　with　him。　Everyone　on　this　crew　had　served　in　Wulfe’s　previous　tank；　though　Metzger　had
only　rolled　out　with　her　once　before　they’d　had　to　abandon　her。　The　first　Last　Rites　had　been
something　special；　at　least　in　Wulfe’s　eyes。　It　was　easy　to　get　attached　to　a　machine　that　had　saved
your　life　so　many　times。　Only　her　speed　had　let　her　down　on　that　final　day；　when　the　clock　was
against　her；　and　they　had　been　forced　to　leave　her　behind。　Wulfe　realised　now　that　his　close　affinity
with　the　original　Last　Rites　had　blinded　him　to　the　worth　of　her　replacement。　Last　Rites　II　might
look　like　hell；　but　she　was　tougher　than　old　boots。　She　had　got　them　this　far。
“Seems　like　this　old　girl　has　found　a　few　fans；”　he　said；　“and　I’ve　been　a　bit　unfair。”
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“Just　a　bit；　sarge；”　said　Siegler。　Of　the　four…man　crew；　he　had　served　with　Wulfe　the　longest　and
the　trust　between　them　was　strongest；　not　least　because　of　Siegler’s　childlike　loyalty。　“Last　Rites
was　a　hard　act　to　follow。”
“She　was；”　said　Wulfe；　“but　you’re　right；　I　reckon　this　crate　is　overdue　a　bit　of　respect　from　me。
One　of　you　idiots　should　have　told　me　I　was　out　of　order。”
The　looks　both　men　gave　him　said　they　wouldn’t　have　dared。　Had　his　mood　been　so　bad
recently？　he　wondered。　He　had　always　believed　himself　an　approachable　man。　Was　he　blind　to　the
truth　in　that　respect　as　well？
A　light　began　blinking　on　the　vox…board。　Wulfe　dreaded　opening　the　link。　No　doubt　another　of
the　Gunheads　was　calling　in　to　gloat。　Maybe　it　was　Rhaimes。　The　company’s　longest…serving
sergeant　was　never　short　of　a　quip。
What　would　it　be　this　time？
As　Wulfe　reached　over　to　the　board　to　open　the　vox…link；　he　told　his　crew；　“I’ll　say　a　litany　of
thanks　to　the　old　girl’s　machine…spirit　when　I　get　a　bit　of　downtime。”
The　men　in　the　turret　smiled；　and　he　turned　from　them；　hit　the　toggle　on　the　vox…board；　and　said；
“Who　the　frak　is　it　and　what　do　you　want？”
The　voice　on　the　other　end　was　not　amused。
“Well　you　could　show　some　damned　decorum　for　a　start；　sergeant；”　snapped　van　Droi　over　the
link。　“The　next　man　who　speaks　to　me　like　that　gets　thrown　to　Commissar　Slayte。”
Wulfe　blanched。
“Sorry；　sir；”　he　told　Lieutenant　van　Droi。　“Thought　it　was　someone　else。　What　can　I　do　for
you？”
“For　a　start；　you　can　sit　tight　until　we　get　an　Atlas　out　to　you。　It　will　tow　you　into　Balkar。　I’ve
voxed　ahead　for　it　already。　Damned　unfortunate　time　to　break　down；　Oskar；　what　with　all　those
people　on　the　walls　to　greet　us。　Colonel　Vinnemann　is　up　there；　and　Major　General　Bergen；　too；　no
doubt。”
Looking　across　the　turret；　Wulfe　met　Siegler’s　gaze　and　winked。　To　van　Droi；　he　said；　“With
respect；　sir；　I　can’t　think　of　a　better　time　to　suffer　a　breakdown；　can　you？　Last　Rites　II　is　the　only
machine　in　the　company　to　have　lasted　this　long　without　serious　engine　trouble。　I’d　rather　it
happened　here　and　now　than　back　there　in　the　desert　with　the　orks　at　our　backs。”
Van　Droi　was　silent　for　a　moment。　When　he　replied；　a　touch　of　his　usual　good　humour　had
returned　to　his　voice。　“Fair　comment；　sergeant。　Glad　to　hear　she’s　finally　grown　on　you。　Took
bloody　long　enough；　mind　you。　Anyway；　what’s　this　about　refusing　Lenck’s　assistance？”
Wulfe　knew　van　Droi　was　probing　with　that　last　addition。　Wulfe’s　contempt　for　Lenck　was　still
a　matter　of　concern　to　the　lieutenant；　then。　“Didn’t　want　to　hold　him　up；　sir；”　he　said。　“We’ve　been
on　quarter　rations　and　bog…water　for　so　long；　I　figured　that　rookie　crew　of　his　would　fall　over　if　they
didn’t　get　some　proper　provisions。”
“You’re　a　damned　poor　liar；　sergeant；”　said　van　Droi。　“And　there　are　no　rookies　in　my　company；
not　anymore。　They　bled　and　sweated　like　the　rest　of　us；　and　they　killed　their　share　of　greenskins；　so
let’s　drop　the　whole　them　and　us　bit；　shall　we？　I’m　moving　through　the　gates　now。　Find　me　in　the
officers’　mess　when　you’ve　been　fed　and　watered。”
“Understood；　sir。”
Van　Droi　signed　off；　but　another　light　was　blinking　on　the　vox…board　now。　Wulfe　hit　the　switch
and　said；　“This　is　Last　Rites　II。　Go　ahead。”
“Last　Rites　II；　this　is　Atlas　recovery　tank　Orion　VI。　We’re　pulling　up　to　you　now。　Give　us　a
minute　to　get　tow…lines　hooked　up　and　we’ll　be　under　way；　over。”
The　Atlas　commander　sounded　young；　and　his　voice　made　Wulfe　reflect　on　van　Droi’s　words：
no　more　us　and　them。　He　had　been　obstinate　in　his　refusal　to　accept　the　new　tank。　He　had　been
obstinate　in　not　telling　his　crew　about　the　apparition　in　the　canyon　on　Palmeros。　Was　he　being　just
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as　obstinate　about　the　new　meat？　Was　Lenck　really　as　bad　as　he　seemed；　or　had　Wulfe　cultivated
bad　feeling　between　them　from　the　start　on　account　of　the　man’s　likeness　to　Victor　Dunst？　He　was
starting　to　suspect　it　was　the　latter。
“Understood；　Orion　VI；”　he　voxed。　“Let　me　know　when　you’re　ready　to　take　us　in。”
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CHAPTER　FOURTEEN
Evening　fell　quickly　over　the　base　at　Balkar。　The　sky　turned　black　just　as　Last　Rites　II　finally
reached　the　motor　pool　where　she　would　undergo　her　much…needed　repairs。　Wulfe　thanked　the
young　commander　of　the　Atlas　tank；　asked　him　where　the　mess　hall　and　barracks　buildings　were；
and　led　his　crew　off　to　find　them。　Their　search　would　have　been　impossible　but　for　the　electric
lamps　that　had　been　strung　up　throughout　the　base；　their　thick　cables　running　along　streets　and
dangling　from　rooftops。　Even　so；　it　wasn’t　easy。　The　lights　were　kept　relatively　dim　at　night　in　order
to　avoid　drawing　attention　from　itinerant　ork　bands。　Earlier　that　day；　units　from　the　259th
Mechanised　Infantry　Regiment　under　Colonel　von　Holden　—　part　of　Rennkamp’s　8th　Mechanised
Division　—　had　been　sent　out　to　eliminate　a　band　of　travelling　greenskin　scavengers。　The　greenskins
had　been　spotted　forty…some　kilometres　out　from　the　base　by　scouts　on　Hornet　bikes　as　they
patrolled　the　low　hills　to　the　north。　The　scouts　had　then　guided　Armoured　Fist　units　in　for　the　attack。
The　action　was　short；　bloody　and　decisive；　and；　importantly；　none　of　the　orks　had　escaped。　Even　a
single　fleeing　greenskin　might　have　brought　a　larger　force　back　down　on　the　Imperial　camp。　The　last
thing　Exolon　needed　was　a　full…scale　assault　on　their　forward　position。　The　top　brass　were　desperate
to　avoid　anything　that　might　delay　success；　and　a　siege　more　than　qualified。
The　mechanised　units　that　engaged　the　orks　actually　managed　something　quite　unusual；　they
brought　two　of　the　orks　back　alive。　Naturally；　both　of　them　were　horribly　maimed　and　crippled；
hanging　onto　their　worthless　alien　lives　by　virtue　of　their　raw　inhuman　resilience　alone。　Even　so；　the
struggle　to　capture　them　had　been　immense。　Wounded　orks　were　often　even　more　dangerous　than
healthy　ones。
Wulfe　heard　of　it　first　from　a　group　of　soldiers　in　the　mess　tent　as　he　finished　off　a　few　slices　of
cooked　meal…brick　and　a　glass　of　rather　tepid；　but　thankfully　clear　and　salt…free　water。　He　shook　his
head　as　he　listened。　Captive　orks？　It　sounded　like　the　officer　in　charge　of　the　Armoured　Fist　unit　in
question　was　some　kind　of　show…off。　Wulfe　wouldn’t　have　brought　them　back。　He’d　have　executed
them　on　the　spot。　The　top　brass；　on　the　other　hand；　must　have　seen　some　gain　in　the　situation　—　a
morale　boost；　probably　—　because　someone　had　approved　the　construction　of　two　cages　in　an　area
by　the　east　wall。　According　to　the　troopers　that　told　Wulfe　all　this；　the　captured　xenos　were　proving
quite　a　draw。
Wulfe　was　just　finishing　his　meal　when　word　reached　him　that　the　men　of　10th　Company　were
to　pay　the　caged　aliens　a　visit。　Wulfe　guessed　van　Droi　wanted　the　less　experienced　men　to　see　the
foe　up　close　and　personal；　based　perhaps　on　some　notion　that　familiarity　eliminated　fear。
Groxshit；　thought　Wulfe。　The　closer　you　got　to　orks；　the　more　you　saw　how　damned　dangerous
they　were。
Despite　his　earlier　promise　to　give　thanks　to　the　machine…spirit　of　his　tank；　he　found　himself
with　little　time　to　do　so。　Stopping　briefly　at　his　barracks；　he　made　arrangements　to　meet　his　crew　by
the　cages　a　little　later；　but　his　first　order　of　business　was　to　find　Lieutenant　van　Droi　in　the　officer’s
mess。　Thus；　after　a　few　moments　spent　trying　to　smarten　himself　up　a　bit　—　not　easy　given　all　he
had　been　through　—　he　crossed　the　base　and　arrived　outside　a　single…storey　sandstone　building　with
the　appropriate　marker…glyph　on　the　door。
There　was　a　surly；　bored…looking　soldier　on　guard　duty　outside。
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“Sergeant　Wulfe　to　see　Lieutenant　van　Droi；”　said　Wulfe。　The　trooper　nodded；　asked　him　to
wait；　and　then　popped　inside　to　verify　things　with　the　lieutenant。　A　moment　later；　he　reappeared　and
ushered　Wulfe　inside。
The　officer’s　mess　had　a　low　ceiling　of　cracked　plaster；　and　at　least　half　of　the　red　floor　tiles
were　missing；　leaving　large　areas　of　bare　concrete　visible。　Strip…lights　hung　above　long　trestle
tables；　buzzing　and　flickering；　their　bright　glare　somewhat　harsh　to　eyes　accustomed　to　the　dull
Golgothan　day。　As　he　looked　around；　Wulfe　decided　this　place　wasn’t　much　of　an　improvement　on
the　grunts’　mes