The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第14部分

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'Nayl　getting　any　better？'
'No。　I　think　by　now　he　owes　me…　what　is　it？　Hmm。　His　first　born　and　his　soul。'
Fischig　laughed。
'Oh；　it　wasn't　all　so　bad。　There　was　one　fellow；　a　veteran　princeps　from　the　Titan　Legion。　Old　guy；　centuries　old。　At　the　point　of
retirement；　like　those　men　ever　retire。　He　was　supervising　the　transfer　of　the　new　war…machines。　Name　of　Hekate。　We　got　to　drinking
some　nights。　Remind　me　to　tell　you　some　of　his　war…stories。'
'I　will。　Come　on…'
He　had　a　land　speeder　parked　down　off　the　lane　under　the　swaying　axel…trees。　We　brushed　fallen　ribbon…leaves　off　me　hood　and　got　in。
'Let　me　show　you　what　I　found。　Then　we　can　all　meet　and　greet　in　a　safe　place。'
'How　safe？'
'The　safest。'
WE　FLEW　OVER　the　moorlands；　into　the　biting　winds；　hugging　the　terrain。　The　light　was　fading。　The　grim　glory　of　Cadia　was　spread
out　below　us。　This　was　the　merciless；　windblown　wilderness　that　raised　one　of　the　Imperium's　hardiest　warrior　breeds。　Here　were　the
scattered　islets　in　the　Caducades　Sea　where　they　were　left　naked　as　pre…pubescents　to　survive　the　ritual　Month　of　Making。　Here　were
the　hill…forts　where　the　Cadian　Youth　armies　wintered　and　toughened　and　waged　mock　wars　on　their　neighbour　forts。　Here　were　the
crags；　ice…lakes　and　axel…forests　where　they　learned　the　arts　of　camouflage。
Here　were　the　wide；　sundered　plains　where　their　live　firing　exercises　were　staged。
There　is　a　saying：　''If　the　ammo　ain't　live；　this　ain't　no　Cadian　practice''。　Right　from　the　time　they　are　issued　with　their　own　las…guns；
which　is　about　the　same　time　they　are　given　their　first　primary　readers；　the　young　warrior…caste　of　Cadia　are　handling　live
ammunition。　Most　can　fire；　and　kill；　and　perform　most　infantry　field　drills　before　they　reach　the　age　often　standard。
Little　wonder　that　the　shock　troops　of　Cadia　are　among　the　Imperium's　best。
But　we　weren't　here　to　gawp　at　the　rugged　crucible　of　landscape　that　had　formed　the　Cadians。
We　were　here　to　look　at　the　pylons。

'CHERUBAEL'S　BEEN　HERE；'　said　Fischig；　jockeying　the　control　stick　and　eyeing　the　windspeed　gauge。　'Far　as　I　know；　nine　times　in　the
last　forty　years。'
'You're　sure？'
'It's　what　you　pay　me　for。　Your　daemonhost　…　and　whatever　he's　working　for　…　is　fascinated　by　Cadia。'
'Why　have　the　Inquisition　not　had　a　hint　of　it？'
'Come　on；　Gregor。　The　galaxy　is　big。　Aemos　once　told　me　that　the　weight　of　data　generated　by　the　Imperium　would　fry　all　the
metriculators　and　codifiers　on　Terra　in　a　flash　if　it　was　input　simultaneously。　It's　a　matter　of　making　connections。　Sifting　the　data。　The
Inquisition　…　and　you　…　have　been　looking　all　over　for　signs　of　Cherubael。　But　some　things　just　don't　flag。　I　got　lucky。'
'How？'
'I　was　doing　my　job。　Old　friend　of　mine；　Isak　Actte；　from　the　old　arbites　day。　Used　to　be　my　boss；　in　fact。　He　rose；　got　promoted；
wound　up　on　Hydraphur　as　an　arbites　general　and　then　got　stationed　here　as　watch　overseer　to　the　Cadian　Interior　Guard。　I　contacted
him　years　ago；　and　got　a　message　I　had　to　check。'
'You're　intriguing　me。'
He　ran　us　low　over　a　headland　and　our　speeder　made　a　small；　sharp　shadow　on　the　glittering　ice…lake　below。
'Actte　said　the　arbites　had　closed　down　a　heretical　cell　here　on　Cadia　about　ten　years　ago。　Called　themselves　the　Sons　of　Bael。　A　fairly
worthless　lot；　by　all　accounts。　Harmless。　But　under　interrogation；　they'd　admitted　to　following　a　daemon　they　called　Bael　or　the　Bael。
The　local　inquisitor　general　spent　some　time　with　them　and　had　them　all　burned。'
'What's　his　name？'
'Gorfal。　But　he's　dead；　three　years　gone。　The　current　incumbent　is　a　she。　Inquisitor　General　Neve。　Anyway；　the　cell　has　flared　up　a　few
times　since　then。　Nothing　a　good　team　of　riot…officers　couldn't　handle。　Like　I　said；　the　Sons　of　Bael　were　pretty　harmless；　really。　They
were　only　interesting　in　one　thing。'
'Which　was？'
'Measuring　the　dimensions　of　the　pylons。'
THE　PYLON　HAD　been　looming　in　our　windscreen　for　a　while　now；　and　Fischig　swept　us　around　it；　almost　kissing　the　black　stone。
The　moaning　song　of　the　wind　as　it　laced　through　the　geometries　of　the　pylon　was　now　so　loud　I　could　hear　it　over　the　racing　turbines
of　the　speeder。
The　pylon　was　vast：　half　a　kilometre　high　and　a　quarter　square。　The　upper　facing　of　the　smooth　black　stone　was　machined　with
delicate　craft　to　form　holes　and　other　round…edged　orifices　no　bigger　than　a　man's　head。　It　was　through　these　slim；　two　hundred　and
fifty　metre　tubes　that　the　wind　moaned　and　howled。
And　the　tubes　weren't　straight。　They　wove　through　the　pylon　like　worm　tunnels。　Tech…magos　had　tried　running　tiny　servitor　probes
through　them　to　map　their　loops；　but　generally　the　probes　didn't　come　back。
As　we　banked　up　higher　for　another　pass；　I　could　see　the　distant　shape　of　the　neighbouring　pylon；　across　the　moors；　sixty　kilometres
away。　Five　thousand；　eight　hundred　and　ten　known　pylons　dot　the　surface　of　Cadia；　not　counting　the　two　thousand　others　that　remain
as　partial　ruins　or　buried　relics。
No　two　are　identical　in　design。　Each　one　rises　to　a　precise　half　kilometre　height　and　is　sunk　a　quarter　kilometre　into　the　ground。　They
predate　mankind's　arrival　in　this　system；　and　their　manner　of　manufacture　is　unknown。　They　are　totally　inert；　by　any　auspex　measure
known　to　our　race；　but　many　believe　their　presence　explains　the　quieting　of　the　violent　warp　torrents　that　makes　the　Cadia　Gate　the
single；　calm；　navigable　route　to　the　Ocularis　Terribus。
'They　were　trying　to　measure　this　thing？'
'Uh　huh；'　Fischig　replied　clearly　over　the　speeder's　drive　as　we　pulled　another　hard　turn。　'This　and　several　others。　They　had　auspex　and
geo…locators　and　magnetic　plumbs。　Finding　the　exact　dimensions…　and　I　do　mean　exact…　was　the　entire　goal　of　the　Sons　of　Bael。'
'They　connect　with　Cherubael…　I　mean；　beyond　the　〃Bael〃　part？'
'The　interview　logs　I've　read　show　they　name　〃Bael〃　fully　as　a　god　called　Cherub　of　Bael；　who　came　amongst　them　and　made
demands　that　they　measure　the　pylons　in　return　for　great　knowledge　and　power。'
'And　the　inquisitor　general…　this　Gorfal？　He　suppressed　this？'
'Not　deliberately。　I　think　he　was　just　sloppy。'
'I　want　to　speak　with　the　current　inquisitor　general…　Neve；　did　you　say　her　name　was？'
'Yeah。　I　thought　you　might。'
WHILE　DAYLIGHT　REMAINED；　we　flew　west　to　Kasr　Derth；　the　largest　castellum　in　the　region　and　the　seat　of　provincial　government　for
the　Caducades。　Fischig　switched　on　the　speeder's　vox…ponder　and　broadcast　the　day's　access　codes　to　the　sentry　turrets　as　we　passed
the　outer　ring…ditch。　Even　so；　Man…ticore　and　Hydra　batteries　traversed　and　tracked　us　as　we　went　over。
The　vox…ponder　pinged　fretfully　as　it　detected　multiple　target…locks。
'Don't　worry；'　said　Fischig；　noticing　my　look。　'We're　safe。　I　think　the　Cadians　enjoy　taking　every　possible　opportunity　to　practise。'
We　ran　down　the　line　of　a　slow　moving　convoy　…　drab；　armoured　twelve…wheeler　transports　escorted　by　lurching　Sentinel　walkers　…
and　followed　the　highway　up　towards　the　ridge　of　the　earthwork。　Beyond　it；　and　two　more　like　it；　the　heavy；　grey　fortifications　and
shatrovies　of　Kasr　Derth　sulked　in　the　twilight。
Watch…lights　on　skeleton　towers　stood　on　the　upper　slope　of　the　earthwork。　More　turret　emplacements　and　pillboxes　studded　the
defence　berm　like　knuckles。　Again；　the　vox…ponder　pinged。

Fischig　dropped　the　speed　and　altitude；　and　swung　us　down　towards　the　eastern　barbican；　a　small　fortress　in　its　own　right；　bristling
with　Earth…shaker　platforms。　A　bas…relief　Imperial　eagle　decorated　the　upper　face　of　the　ashlar…dressed　structure。
We　ran　in　through　the　barbican's　gate；　over　the　hydraulic　bascule　that　crossed　the　inner　moat；　and　into　the　castellum's　deliberately
narrow　and　twisting　streets。
Cadia's　earliest　kasrs　had　been　built　in　the　High　Terra　style；　with　the　wide　streets　laid　out　on　a　grid　system。　In　early　M。32；　a　Chaos
invasion　had　made　wretchedly　short　work　of　three　of　them。　The　broad；　ordered　avenues　had　proved　impossible　to　defend　or　hold。
Since　then；　the　kasrs　had　been　planned　in　elaborate　geometric　patterns；　the　streets　jinking　back　and　forth　like　the　teeth　of　a　key。　From
the　air；　Kasr　Derth　looked　like　an　intricate；　angular　puzzle。　Given　the　Cadians'　mettle　and　their　skills　at　urban…war；　a　kasr　could　be
held；　street　by　street；　metre　by　metre；　for　months　if　not　years。
We　slunk　along　the　busy；　labyrinthine　streets　as　the　caged　lamps　came　on　and　business　began　to　shut　for　the　night。　I　was　about　to
remark　to　Fischig　that　it　looked　for　all　the　world　like　a　military　camp；　until　I　realised　that　even　the　civilian　fashion　was　for
camouflaged　clothing。　It　soon　became　easy　to　pick　out　locals　from　visitors。　The　jag…white　and　grey　of　tundra　dress　or　the　panelled
green　and　beige　of　moor　fatigues　marked　out　newcomers　and　off　duty　soldiery。　The　population　of　Kasr　Derth　wore　grey　and　brown
checkered　urban　camouflage。
We　passed　the　stilted　horreums　of　the　Imperial　Cadian　Granary；　and　the　tight…packed　baileys　of　the　rich　and　successful。　Even　the
townhouses　of　the　wealthy　had　armouring　on　their　mansard　roofs。
To　the　left　lay　the　brightly…lit　aleatorium；　to　which　night　crowds　were　already　flocking　to　gamble　away　their　pay。　To　the　right；　Kasr's
senaculum　with　its　gleaming；　ceramite…plated　shatrovy　pyramid。　Ahead；　lay　the　minster　of　the　Inquisition。　The　vox…ponder　pinged
again　as　the　gun…walls　along　the　deep　approach　followed　us。
Fischig　settled　the　speeder　down　on　the　spicae　testicae　paving　of　the　minster's　inner　yard；　where　sunken　guide…lights　stitched　out　a
winking　cross。　Inquisitorial　guards　in　gold…laced　burgundy　armour　approached　us　as　we　swung　back　the　speeder's　canopy　and　climbed
out。
I　showed　the　nearest　one　my　rosette。
He　clipped　his　heels　together　and　saluted。
'My　lord。'
'I　wish　to　see　the　inquisitor　general。'
'I　will　inform　her　staff；'　he　said　obediently；　and　hurried　away　across　the　herringbone　paving；　holding　up　his　baldric　so　his　power　sword
wouldn't　trip　him。
'You　won't　like　her；'　Fischig　said　as　he　came　round　the　parked　speeder　to　join　me。　'Why？'
'Ah；　trust　me。　You　just　won't。'
'IT'S　LATE。　I　had　finished　business　for　the　day；'　said　Inquisitor　General　Neve；　stabbing　her　holoquill　back　into　the　brass　power…well　on
the　desk。
'My　apologies；　madam。'
'Don't　bother。　I'm　not　about　to　shut　my　doors　to　the　famous　Inquisitor　Eisenhorn。　We're　a　long　way　from　the　Helican　sub；　but　your
fame　precedes　you。'
'In　a　good　way；　I　hope。'
The　inquisitor　general　rose　from　her　writing　desk　and　straightened　the　front　of　her　green　flannel　robe。　She　was　a　short；　sturdy　woman
in　her　late　one　tens；　if　my　eye　was　any　judge；　with　salt　and　pepper　hair　plied　back　tightly　into　a　bourse。　She　had　the　typical　pale；　tight
flesh　and　violet　eyes　of　a　Cadian。
'Whatever；'　she　snapped。
We　stood　in　her　sanctum；　an　octastyle　chamber　with　a　black　and　white　cosmati　floor　and　aethercite　walls　inscribed　with　a　waterleaf
design。　It　was　lit　with　rushlights　and　the　flame　glow　accented　the　carved　lotus　motif。
Inquisitor　General　Neve　clumped　around　her　desk　to　face　us；　leaning　on　an　ornate　silver　crutch。
'You'll　want　to　be　reviewing　the　Bael　records；　I　suppose？'
'How　did　you　guess？'　I　asked。
She　favoured　her　weight　on　her　sound　foot　and　pointed　the　rubber…capped　toe　of　the　crutch　at　Fischig。
'Him；　I　know。　He's　been　here　before。　One　of　yours；　I　suppose；　inquisitor。'
'One　of　my　best。'
She　arched　her　spare；　plucked　eyebrows。　'Hah。　Much　that　says　about　you。　Come　on。　The　archivum。'
A　DIM　SCREW…STAIR　led　down　to　the　basement　archivum。　The　turning　steps　of　the　spiral　were　hard　for　her　to　manage；　but　she　shooed
me　away　curtly　when　I　offered　to　assist　her。
'I　meant　no　insult；　inquisitor　general；'　I　said。
'Your　kind　never　do；'　she　snapped。　I　felt　it　wasn't　the　moment　to　inquire　what　kind　that　might　be。
The　archivum　was　a　long；　panelled　chamber　lit　only　by　the　lamps　of　the　double…faced　desk…row　that　ran　down　its　middle。
'Light　buoy！'　Neve　snarled；　and　a　servitor…skull　drifted　down　from　the　coffered　ceiling；　hovering　at　her　shoulder　and　igniting　its
halogen　eye…beams。
'Bael；　Sons　of。　Find；'　she　told　it；　and　it　coursed　away；　turning　and　dipping；　sweeping　the　racks　of　the　catalogue　with　its　twin　spears　of
light。

It　stopped；　eight　sections　down；　and　began　to　buzz　around　a　shelf　groaning　with　data…slates；　file　tubes　and　dusty　paper　books。
Fischig　and　I　followed　Neve　as　she　hobbled　over　to　join　it。
'Sons　of…　Sons　of…　Sons　of　Teuth；　Sons　of　Macharius；　sons　of　bitches。　She　glanced　round　at　me。　That　passes　for　humour　here；
Eisenhorn。'
'I'm　sure　it　does；　madam。'
Her　fingers　went　back　to　the　stacks；　running　along　the　fraying　spines　and　tagged　slate…sleeves；　following　the　skull…buoy's　light　beams。
'Sons　of　Barabus…　Sons　of　Balkar…　Here！　Here　it　is。　Sons　of　Bael。'
She　pulled　a　file　case　off　the　shelf；　blew　the　dust　off　it　into　my　face　and　handed　it　to　me。　'Put　it　back　where　you　found　it　when　you've
finished；'　she　said。　She　turned　to　go。
'Your　pardon；　wait；'　I　said。
Two　emphatic　thumps　of　her　cratch　swung　her　around　to　face　me　again。
'What？'
'Your　predecessor…　um…'
'Gorfal；'　whispered　Fischig。
'Gorfal。　He　burned　the　members　of　this　cult　without　examination。　Have　you　never　reviewed　the　case？'
She　smiled　at　me。　It　wasn't　encouraging。
'You　know；　Eisenhorn…　I　always　imagined　roving　inquisitors　like　you　had　adventurous；　exciting　lives。　All　so　very　exhilarating；　all
that　celebrity　and　heroism　and　notoriety。　To　think　I　used　to　dream　of　being　like　you。　You　have　no　idea；　do　you？'
'With　respect；　inquisitor　general…　of　what？'
She　gestured　at　the　file　case　I　was　clutching。　'The　crap。　The　nonsense。　The　bric…a…brac。　The　Sons　of　Bael？　Why　the　hell　should　I
review　that　case？　It's　dead；　dead　and　nothing。　A　bunch　of　fools　who　were　pulled　off　the　West…moorland　pylon　in　the　middle　of　the
night　for　playing　around　with　geo…locators。　Whoooo！　I'm　so　scared！　Imagine　that；　they're　measuring　us！　Do　you　have　any　idea　what
this　wardship　is　like？'
'Inquisitor　general；　I—'
'Do　you？　This　is　Cadia；　you　silly　fool！　Cadia！　Right　on　the　doorway　of　Chaos！　Right　in　the　heart　of　everything！　The　seepage　of　evil　is
so　great；　I　have　a　hundred　active　cults　to　subdue　every　month！　A　hundred！　The　place　breeds　recidivists　like　a　pond　breeds　scum。　I
sleep　three　or　four　hours　a　night　if　I'm　lucky。　My　vox　chimes　and　I'm　up；　called　out　to　another　nest　of　poison　that　the　arbites　have
uncovered。　Firefights　in　the　street；　Eisenhorn！　Running　battles　with　the　foot　soldiers　of　the　archenemy！　I　can　barely　keep　up　with　the
day…to…day　banishments；　forget　the　past　cases　my　crap…witted　predecessor　filed。　This　is　Cadia！　This　is　the　Gate　of　the　Eye！　This　is
where　the　bloody　work　of　the　Inquisition　is　done！　Don't　distract　me　with　stories　of　some　engineering　club　gone　bad。'
'My　apologies。'
'Taken。　See　yourselves　out。'　She　limped　away。
'Neve？'
She　turned。　I　dropped　the　file　case　on　to　the　reading　table。
'They　might　have　been　idiots；'　I　said；　'but　they're　the　only　solid　link　I　have　to　a　daemonhost　that　could　destroy　us　all。'
'A　daemonhost？'　she　said。
'That's　right。　And　the　beast　that　controls　it。　A　beast　that；　if　I'm　right…　is　one　of　ours。'
She　lurched　back　down　the　archivum。
'Convince　me；'　she　said。

THIRTEEN
A　REUNION。
WAR〣ELLS。
THE　LONG；　SLOW　TASK　BEGINS。
I　DON'T　KNOW　if　I　did　convince　the　inquisitor　general。　I　don't　know　if　I　could。　But　she　heard　me　out　and　stayed　around　for　another　two
hours；　helping　to　locate　the　files　of　connected　cases　and　other　materials。　Past　nine；　she　was　called　away　to　a　disturbance　on　an　island
community　in　the　Caducades。　Before　she　left；　she　offered　accommodation　for　me　and　my　staff　in　the　minster；　which　I　politely
declined；　and　made　it　clear　that　I　had　her　permission　to　continue　my　investigation　in　Kasr　Derth；　provided　I　kept　her　informed。
'I've　heard　stories　about　your…　adventures；　Eisenhorn。　I　don't　want　anything　like　that　happening　on　my　turf。　Do　we　understand　each
other？'
'We　do。'
'Good　night；　then。　And　good　hunting。'
Fischig　and　I　were　left　alone　in　the　archivum。
'You　were　wrong；'　I　told　him。
'How's　that？'

'I　did　like　her。'
'Hah！　That　hard…nosed　bitch？'
'Actually；　I　liked　her　because　she　was　a　hard…nosed　bitch。'
I　always　took　pleasure　in　meeting　a　fellow　inquisitor　who　conducted　their　work　fairly　and　seriously；　even　if　their　methods　differed
from　mine。　Neve　was　a　thoroughbred　puritan；　and　lacked　patience。　She　was　abrupt　to　the　point　of　rudeness。　She　was　over…worked。　But
she　called　things　as　she　saw　them；　despised　sloppiness；　and　took　the　threats　to　our　society　and　way　of　life　completely　seriously。　In　my
opinion；　there　was　no　other　way　for　an　inquisitor　to　behave。
WE　WORKED　ON　until　midnight；　studying　and　collating　the　contents　of　hundreds　of　case…files。
By　then；　the　gun…cutter　had　arrived　from　the　landing　fields　at　Kasr　Tyrok；　in　response　to　my　vox…summons。　Fischig　found　one　of
Neve's　rubricators　and　charged　him　with　making　data…slate　copies　of　the　most　promising　files　ready　for　our　return　in　the　morning。
Then　we　got　back　into　the　speeder　and　flew　through　the　castellum's　zig…zag　streets　to　the　town　field。
The　stars　were　out；　and　it　was　cool。　Noctule　moths　fluttered　around　the　landing　lights　of　the　waiting　cutter。
There　was　a　mauve　smudge　in　the　night　sky；　down　low　over　the　eastern　horizon。　The　rising　nebula　of　the　Eye　of　Terror。　Even　from
this　great　distance；　just　a　blur　in　the　heavens；　it　put　a　chill　into　me。　If　the　two…headed　eagle　symbolises　all　that　is　good　and　noble　and
right　about　the　Imperium　of　Mankind；　that　rancid　blur　symbolised　all　that　was　abominable　about　our　eternal　foe。
LAUGHTER　AND　WARM　voices　greeted　Fischig　as　we　went　aboard。　Aemos　shook　him　repeatedly　by　the　hand　and　Bequin　planted　a
quick　kiss　on　his　cheek　that　made　him　blush。　He　exchanged　a　few　playful　put…downs　with　Nayl　and　Medea；　and　asked　Husmaan　if　he
was　hungry。
'Why？'　the　scout…hunter　asked；　his　eyes　widening　in　anticipation。
'Because　it's　supper　time；'　said　Fischig。　'Betancore；　get　this　crate　into　the　air。'
We　were　going　to　that　safe　place　he　had　mentioned。
I　HAD　NOT　been　aboard　the　sprint　trader　Essene　for　some　five　years。　A　classic　Isolde…pattern　bulk　clipper；　the　ship　was　like　a　spacegoing
cathedral；　three　kilometres　long；　and　looked　as　majestic　holding　low　anchor　above　Cadia　as　it　had　when　I　first　saw　it；　nearly　one
hundred　years　before；　in　the　cold　orbit　of　Hubris。
Medea　coasted　us　in　towards　the　cargo　hatch　of　the　gigantic　craft。
'A　rogue　trader？'　asked　Inshabel　cautiously；　looking　over　my　shoulder　at　the　ship　ahead。
'An　old　friend；'　I　reassured　him。
SHIP　MASTER　TOBIAS　Maxilla　was；　I　suppose；　my　most　unlikely　ally。　He'd　made　his　living　shipping　luxury　goods　officially；　and
unofficially；　along　the　space　lanes　of　the　Helican　subsector。　He　still　did。　He　was　a　merchant；　he　maintained；　to　any　that　asked。
But　he　had　a　pirate's　taste　for　adventure；　a　yearning　for　the　halcyon　days　of　early　space…faring。　I　had　hired　his　ship　during　the　affair　of
the　Necroteuch；　to　provide　nothing　more　than　transport　for　my　team；　but　he　had　got　involved；　with　increasing　glee；　and　he'd　stayed
involved　ever　since。　Every　few　years　over　the　last　century；　I　had　hired　him　to　run　passage　for　me　or　some　of　my　staff；　or　he　had
contacted　me　to　ask　if　his　services　were　needed。　Just　because　he　was　bored。　Just　because　he　was　''in　the　neighbourhood''。
Maxilla　was　an　educated；　erudite　man　with　a　subtle　wit　and　a　taste　for　the　finest　things　in　life。　H