Gunheads(科幻战争)-第15部分

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“It’s　just　interference；”　said　Lenck。　He　reached　into　one　of　the　stowage　bins　and　pulled　out　a
green　metal　jerry　can。　It　was　much　smaller　than　the　ones　they　had　been　given　to　piss　in。　He
unscrewed　the　cap；　tipped　the　can　to　his　mouth；　and　drank。
“Hey；”　said　Varnuss；　“what’s　that？　If　you’ve　been　holding　back　water…”
“It’s　not　water；”　said　Lenck　smugly。　“It’s　a　little　something　special　I’ve　been　keeping　aside。”　He
tossed　his　head。　“Damn　it　goes　down　rough。　Good　kick　though。”
Varnus　and　Riesmann　half…turned。　It　was　the　most　they　could　manage　in　the　incredibly　cramped
turret　basket。　Riesmann　sniffed　the　air　and　said；　“That’s　liquor。　You’d　better　share　it　out；　Lenck。　We
look　after　you；　you　look　after　us；　remember？”
“Teah；”　rumbled　Varnuss；　“that’s　what　you　said；　Lenck。”
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“I　know　what　I　said；　you　dolts。　Give　me　a　bloody　break。　Would　I　have　shown　you　at　all　if　I
didn’t　intend　to　share？”
He　lifted　the　jerrycan　and　handed　it　to　Riesmann；　who　took　it　greedily　and　raised　it　to　his　lips。
Before　he　could　gulp　any　down；　however；　New　Champion　of　Cerbera　skidded　forward　with　a
sudden　surge；　and　then　stopped。　Her　front　suspension　strained；　groaning　as　it　was　compressed　to　its
limits　while　her　rear　lifted　into　the　air。　Then　there　was　a　sharp　clang　that　shook　the　whole　tank；　and
the　front　suspension　sprang　upwards　again。
The　men　inside　were　thrown　from　their　seats。　Lenck　just　managed　to　avoid　splitting　his　head
wide　open　on　the　corner　of　one　of　the　stowage　bins。　Varnuss　wasn’t　so　lucky。　Blood　spilled　from　a
deep　cut　in　his　crown。
Riesmann　was　thrown　painfully　against　the　manual　traverse　wheel；　grunting　as　the　metal　handle
dug　into　his　side。　He　spilled　Lenck’s　liquor　all　over　his　fatigues。
“What　the　frak　was　that？”　shouted　Lenck。　“Hobbs；　what　in　the　bloody　warp　just　happened？”
Fear　and　shock　raised　the　pitch　of　Hobbs’　voice　as　he　replied　over　the　intercom；　“By　the
frakkin”　Eye；　Lenck。　I　think…　I　think　we　just　lost　Cold　Deliverance。”
Wulfe　had　to　strain　his　ears　to　make　out　the　lieutenant’s　voice　as　it　said；　“All　tanks；　halt！　That’s　an
order。　Stop　where　you　are。　Do　not　move　an　inch。”　He　didn’t　waste　any　time。
“Dead　stop；　Metzger；”　he　snapped　over　the　intercom。
Last　Rites　II　ground　to　an　immediate　halt。
“What’s　going　on；　sarge？”　asked　Holtz；　pressing　his　eyes　to　the　main　gun’s　scope。
“Quiet；”　said　Wulfe。　He　squinted　with　effort　as　he　listened　carefully　to　the　voice　on　the　vox…link。
After　a　moment；　he　said；　“It’s　Cold　Deliverance。　She’s　gone　quiet。　From　the　sounds　of　it；　she
dropped。”
“Into　what？”　asked　Siegler；　turning　to　stare　at　Wulfe。
“We　won’t　know　till　the　storm’s　passed；”　said　Holtz。　“Will　we？”
Wulfe　was　listening　to　the　vox　again。　Then　he　said；　“The　New　Champion　called　it　in。　From　the
sounds　of　it；　the　front　tow　peg　snapped　right　off。　Damned　lucky　she　didn’t　go　over；　too。”
“Or　unlucky；”　grumbled　Holtz；　“depending　on　how　you　look　at　it。”
Wulfe　knew　what　he　meant；　but；　if　any　of　Muller’s　crew　were　still　alive；　it　was　just　as　well
Lenck’s　tank　hadn’t　gone　over。
“What’s　van　Droi　saying？”　asked　Siegler　nervously。
Wulfe　listened　for　a　another　moment。　He　shook　his　head　miserably　as　he　answered；　“Nothing　we
can　do。　So　long　as　the　storm　continues　at　this　intensity；　we　can’t　move　a　bloody　muscle。　Muller　and
his　boys　will　need　to　wait　it　out　like　the　rest　of　us。”
“But　they’ll　need　medical　attention！”　piped　Siegler。
“I　know　that；　Sig；”　snapped　Wulfe；　“but　look　outside　the　tank；　damn　it。　You　think　we　can　help
them　in　this？”
Siegler　looked　down　at　his　hands；　obviously　upset；　and　Wulfe　felt　immediately　contrite。　He
leaned　forward　and　patted　the　loader’s　broad；　powerful　shoulder。
“Sorry；　Sig；”　he　said。　“I　know　you’re　just　worried　about　them。　I　am；　too。”
Warp…damn　it　all；　he　thought。　We　can’t　keep　taking　knocks　like　this。　Where　in　the　blasted　Eye
are　the　rest　of　the　army　group？
Forcing　calm　into　his　voice；　he　told　his　crew；　“Let’s　keep　it　together。　Gunheads　never　give　up；
remember？　We　keep　fighting。　It’s　what　we　do。”
Siegler　looked　slightly　mollified。　He　said；　“Maybe　Borscht’s　ghost　will　help　us　again。”
Wulfe’s　blood　turned　to　ice…water。
“What　did　you　just　say？”
“Damn　it；　Siegler；”　Holtz　hissed。　“I　frakking　told　you　about　that。”
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Siegler　seemed　to　realise　the　gravity　of　the　mistake　he　had　just　made。　His　eyes　flashed　from
Wulfe　to　Holtz　in　a　panic。　“Sorry；　Holtz！　It　just　came　out。”
Wulfe　turned　to　Holtz。　“Explain　yourself；　corporal。　And　that’s　not　a　request。　It’s　an　order。”
Holtz　shook　his　head　and　sighed。　“What　did　you　expect；　sarge？　Did　you　think　we　were　too
stupid　to　put　it　together？　That　canyon　on　Palmeros；　you　losing　it　and　stopping　the　tank　for　no　reason。
Then　Strieber’s　lads　getting　hamstrung　by　that　landmine。　And　there　was　the　medicae　report。　Old
Borscht　died　at　almost　the　exact　moment　you　started　hearing　a　voice　on　the　intercom　that　no　one
else　could。”
Wulfe　slumped　in　his　chair。
“You　knew　all　this　time？”　he　muttered。　“Why　the　hell　didn’t　you　put　in　for　a　transfer？　Your
sergeant　thinks　he　saw　a　ghost；　for　Throne’s　sake。　Metzger；　did　you　know　about　this？”
The　driver　answered　in　a　sullen　tone；　“Afraid　so；　sarge。　It　was　your　warp…dreams　mostly。　You
did　a　lot　of　shouting　in　your　sleep　while　we　were　between　systems。”
Wulfe　was　dumbfounded。
“We　don’t　think　you’ve　lost　it；”　said　Siegler。
“Right；”　said　Holtz。　“In　fact；　we　were　pissed　off　that　you　didn’t　tell　us　yourself。　I　mean；　the
ghost　didn’t　just　save　you。　It　saved　all　of　us。　We　could　have　prayed　for　Borscht’s　soul　together。
Viess　took　it　pretty　badly。　Said　you　should　have　trusted　us　more。”
Wulfe　saw　how　foolish　he　had　been　to　think　they　wouldn’t　put　two　and　two　together。　“I　couldn’t
tell　you　the　truth。　I　wasn’t　sure　it　was　the　truth　myself。　I　still　haven’t　come　to　terms　with　it。　Not
really。　If　it　ever　got　out…　I　don’t　want　van　Droi　to　think　I’ve　lost　it。　I　don’t　want　to　lose　my
command。”
“You　really　have　lost　it　if　you　think　the　lieutenant　doesn’t　already　suspect　the　truth；”　said　Holtz。
“I　mean；　he　never　really　pushed　for　a　full　account；　did　he？　He　just　accepted　that　groxshit　report　you
submitted。　No　questions　asked。”
Wulfe　thought　about　that。　It　was　true。　He　had　been　too　relieved　at　the　time　to　question　the
lieutenant’s　easy　acceptance　of　the　report。
“Who　else　knows？”　he　asked。
Holtz　shrugged。　“No　one　but　us；　Viess；　and　probably　van　Droi。”
“It　has　to　stay　that　way；”　said　Wulfe。　“You　all　know　how　well　it　would　go　down　with　the
commissars。”
“You　gonna　tell　us　what　actually　happened　then？”　asked　Holtz；　hoping　to　bargain。
Wulfe　didn’t　get　the　chance　to　respond。　The　vox…board　on　his　left　started　blinking。　It　was　the
company　command　channel。
“Sword　Leader　here；　sir；”　said　Wulfe。　“Go　ahead。”
He　listened　to　the　lieutenant’s　transmission。　It　crackled　with　static；　but　he　noted　how　much　the
vox…signal　had　improved　in　the　last　few　minutes。　Then　he　toggled　back　over　to　the　intercom　system。
“Well？”　Holtz　asked。
“The　storm’s　clearing；”　said　Wulfe。　“Van　Droi　wants　all　vehicles　checked　for　damage。　I’m
going　up　front。　It’s　time　to　find　out　what　happened　to　Muller　and　his　men。”
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CHAPTER　TWELVE
The　wind　was　still　howling；　and　the　air　dragged　at　his　clothes　and　hurled　sand　at　him　with　stinging
force；　but　Gossefried　van　Droi　knew　he　couldn’t　wait　any　longer。　If　there　were　men　still　alive　in
Corporal　Muller’s　tank；　they　would　need　extrication　and　medical　attention　as　soon　as　possible。　Now
if　he　could　just　find　the　bloody　thing。
“Here；　sir！”　yelled　a　trooper　barely　visible　as　a　shadow　up　ahead。　The　wind　snatched　at　the
man’s　words；　but　van　Droi　could　just　make　them　out。　He　hurried　over。
“Over　here！”　said　the　man　as　van　Droi　closed。　Others　had　heard　and　gathered　towards　him。
“Careful！”　he　told　them。　“There’s　a　sheer　drop。”
Van　Droi　halted　at　the　man’s　side　and；　peering　through　his　goggles；　read　the　name　strip　above
the　left　breast　pocket　of　his　fatigues。　It　said　Brunner；　one　of　Richter’s　crew。
“Show　me；　Brunner；”　said　van　Droi。　Brunner　moved　forward　carefully　for　a　couple　of　metres；
guiding　van　Droi。　Then　he　pointed　down　towards　the　area　in　front　of　his　feet。　Van　Droi　moved　level
with　him　and　looked　down　to　find　himself　standing　right　on　the　edge　of　a　sheer　drop。
Brunner　directed　his　attention　to　the　ground　on　the　left；　and　van　Droi　saw　two　tank　tracks
leading　straight　to　the　edge。　Damn　it；　he　thought。　Ten　kilometres　per　hour　was　too　fast；　after　all。
They’d　have　been　over　before　they　could　stop；　and　the　chains　weren’t　made　to　suspend　a　tank’s　full
weight。
He　squinted　down　into　the　shadows；　but　the　drop　was　too　deep　to　show　him　anything　solid。　The
storm　was　still　cloaking　the　area　enough　to　hamper　vision　at　that　range；　but　it　was　weakening　all　the
time。　What　would　be　revealed　when　it　had　passed　completely？　Had　the　orks　followed　them　in？　Were
they　closing　on　their　backs　even　now？　There　was　nowhere　to　run。　Forward　progress　was　blocked　by
the　edge　of　the　escarpment。　How　far　did　it　extend　to　left　and　right？
The　answers　would　have　to　wait。　Van　Droi　needed　to　speak　to　Colonel　Stromm　at　once。　He
ordered　everyone　back　to　their　tanks　in　the　meantime；　and　then　returned　to　Foe…Breaker。　Once　he
was　inside　and　the　hatches　were　all　locked；　he　flipped　a　switch　on　his　vox…board　and　said；　“Armour
Leader　to　Colonel　Stromm；　come　in；　please。”
“Go　ahead；　lieutenant。　What’s　the　situation？”
“Not　good；　sir。　As　I　feared；　one　of　our　tanks　took　a　dive。　There’s　a　precipice　about　ten　or　twelve
metres　in　front　of　my　lead　tank。　No　idea　how　deep　it　runs；　sir。　The　bottom　isn’t　visible　in　all　this
dust。　I’m　guessing　it’s　deep。　Deep　enough　to　be　a　big　problem；　anyway。”
“Do　we　know　its　extent？　If　the　orks　are　right　behind　us…”
“There’s　no　way　of　knowing　right　now；　sir。　The　storm　is　moving　on　quickly；　though；　so　I　expect
we’ll　have　decent　visibility　in　half　an　hour　or　less。　Suggest　we　wait　it　out　until　then。”
“Of　course；　lieutenant。　I　don’t　want　any　more　accidents。　Could　any　of　your　men；　the　ones　in　the
tank…　could　they　have　survived？”
Van　Droi　thought　about　this　for　a　second　before　answering。　For　all　the　reliability　of　the　Leman
Russ　—　a　design　that　had　barely　changed　in　many　thousands　of　years　—　the　turret　basket　was　still　a
dangerous　place　to　be。　The　centre　of　the　hot；　cramped；　noisy　little　space　was　usually　dominated　by
the　huge　mechanism　of　the　main　gun。　On　one　side　of　this　sat　the　gunner；　on　the　other　sat　the　loader。
Close　behind　the　gunner；　the　commander　sat　within　easy　reach　of　everything　he　needed：　maps；
comms　equipment；　small　arms　and　more。　What　made　it　so　dangerous　were　the　stowage　boxes　bolted
to　every　surface；　their　metal　edges　and　corners　responsible　for　more　wounds　than　enemy　fire。　The
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locking　levers　for　the　hatches　weren’t　much　better。　They　stuck　out　like　blunted　metal　barbs。
Veterans　got　used　to　this　and　reported　fewer　injuries　with　each　passing　year　of　service；　but　the　new
meat　learned　the　hard　way。
“Chances　are；　sir；　that　most　of　the　men　inside　are　badly　injured；”　said　van　Droi。　“More　than
likely　there’s　at　least　one　dead。”
“But　you　think　there　will　be　survivors？”
“Can’t　really　say　at　this　juncture；　sir。　It　depends　on　the　height　of　the　drop。”
Stromm　paused；　leaving　van　Droi　to　listen　to　the　white　noise　that　filled　his　right　ear　for　a
moment。　“You　know；　van　Droi；　that　if　the　orks　are　close　by；　I　can’t　give　you　the　time　you　need。”
Van　Droi　shook　his　head。　“I　know　that；　sir。　If　there’s　any　chance　at　all；　though；　that　some　of
them　are　stuck　in　there；　I　owe　it　to　them　to　get　them　out。”
He　was　actually　thinking　that　Stromm’s　Fighting　98th　owed　it　to　them；　but　he　didn’t　say　so。　A
second　later；　he　was　glad　he　hadn’t。
“My　boys　and　I　will　do　everything　we　can　to　help；　van　Droi；　but　time　really　is　of　the　essence
here。　Hold　for　one　second。”
Stromm　broke　the　link；　and　then　re…connected　a　few　seconds　later。　“Take　a　look　outside；
lieutenant；”　he　said。　“It　looks　like　the　storm　has　all　but　passed。”
Van　Droi　craned　his　neck　and　peered　through　the　forward　vision　block　set　in　the　ceiling　just
above　his　station。　He　could　see　the　tank　in　front　of　him　in　sharp　detail；　the　treads　on　her　windward
side　piled　high　with　red　sand。　Beyond　her；　he　thought　he　glimpsed　the　horizon　and…　could　it　be？
Was　that　the　pale　silhouette　of　a　jutting　mountain　range？　It　was　difficult　to　be　sure。　Behind　the　thick
brown　clouds　in　the　west；　there　were　hints　of　the　sun　moving　lower；　but　the　day　was　still　hot；　and
the　mirage　line　shimmered。　If　there　really　were　mountains　over　there…
Suddenly；　something　else　occurred　to　van　Droi。　The　orks！　He　spun　to　look　through　the　rear
vision　blocks；　but　The　Adamantine　was　blocking　his　view。
“Any　sign　of　the　orks；　sir？”　he　voxed　to　Stromm。　“Have　you　got　anyone　checking　the　rear？”
Again　there　was　a　pause　while　Stromm　talked　to　his　people。　Then；　“No　sign　of　the　filthy　beasts；
lieutenant。　I　can’t　believe　we　lost　them　so　easily；　but　eyes　at　the　rear　report　no　sign　of　them。　Nothing
whatsoever　to　our　backs。”
By　the　Emperor；　thought　van　Droi。　Could　it　really　have　worked？　Had　the　storm　covered　their
tracks　and　sent　the　orks　off　somewhere　else？
“You　still　there；　lieutenant？”
“Yes；　sir。　Sorry。　I　was　just　wondering　where　in　the　warp　the　buggers　went。　May　I　suggest　we　get
scouts　out　looking　for　a　way　down　from　here；　sir？　If　we　want　to　continue　north…east；　we’ll　need　a
slope　or　a　trail　down　from　this　ridge。　And；　with　your　permission；　I’d　like　to　have　some　of　my　men
abseil　down　to　Cold　Deliverance。”
“You　have　it；　lieutenant。　Be　quick。　I　want　us　all　moving　again　as　soon　as　possible。　You　need
anything　else；　just　let　me　know。　Stromm；　out。”
Muller’s　tank　lay　belly　up　at　the　bottom　of　a　two…hundred…metre　drop；　and　van　Droi　knew　as　soon　as
he　saw　her　that　the　chances　of　any　of　Muller’s　men　surviving　were　next　to　none。
With　five　other　men；　all　hand…picked；　he　rappelled　down　to　the　rocky　desert　floor　and　moved
closer　to　observe　the　results　of　the　fall。　The　barrel　of　the　main　gun　was　crumpled　and　bent；　and　the
secondary　weapons　had　suffered　such　an　impact　that　pieces　of　them　lay　scattered　around　the
inverted　hull。
Her　turret　wasn’t　even　visible；　buried　deep　in　sand　and　loose　rock。　No　one　would　be　crawling
from　its　hatches。
He　directed　his　team　to　move　in　and　check　for　signs　of　life。　Sergeant　Wulfe　was　among　them
and　immediately　clambered　up　onto　the　machine’s　upturned　belly。　He　removed　his　laspistol　from　its
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thigh　holster；　lay　flat　against　the　tank’s　belly　armour　and　began　tapping　out　a　message　in　cipher…one。
It　was　an　old　code；　a　series　of　taps　and　pauses　that　the　Cadian　military　still　taught　to　cadets　in　their
first　year；　though　there　was　little　cause　to　use　it　given　the　prevalence　of　vox…comms。　Van　Droi　was
amazed　that　Wulfe　remembered　the　code　at　all。　It　had　been　over　twenty　years　since　the　man　had
been　a　cadet。　Reaching　back　to　memories　of　his　own　days　in　training；　it　took　van　Droi　a　moment　to
unscramble　the　message。　It　was　the　same　code；　repeated　over　and　over　again：　Survivors；　respond。
Survivors；　respond。
Wulfe　pressed　his　ear　to　metal　for　about　a　minute；　after　which　his　movements　took　on　a
distinctly　urgent　quality。　Noting　this；　van　Droi　moved　closer；　but　he　didn’t　dare　speak。　This　was　no
time　to　distract　the　sergeant。
Wulfe’s　message　changed：　Number　of　casualties？
Van　Droi　saw　him　press　his　ear　to　the　armour　again；　and　then；　after　a　short　pause；　tap　a　single
word：　Wait。
Leaping　down　from　the　belly　of　the　tank；　Wulfe　marched　straight　over　to　van　Droi。
“Three　dead；　one　alive；　sir。　It’s　the　driver；　Private　Krausse。”
“Status？”　asked　van　Droi。
“Not　good；　sir。　Lots　of　broken　bones。　Lacerations。”
“Damn；”　spat　van　Droi。　“I　think　we　both　know　how　this　is　going　to　turn　out；　Wulfe。”
The　sergeant　looked　at　the　ground。　“Frakking　hell；　sir。　We　can’t。”
“We　both　know　that’s　not　our　call。　Stromm’s　the　man　in　charge。　Don’t　hate　him　for　it。　He　has　to
think　about　the　rest　of　us。”
“Can’t　we　at　least　try；　sir？”
“I　wish　we　could；　Oskar；”　said　van　Droi　heavily；　“but　with　our　limited　resources；　it　would　take
the　rest　of　this　day　and　half　of　the　next　to　cut　him　out。　And　that’s　cutting　where　the　armour　is
thinnest。”
Van　Droi　couldn’t　see　Wulfe’s　face。　It　was　masked　and　goggled；　like　his　own；　against　the
airborne　dust；　but　he　knew　the　sergeant’s　expression　would　be　much　the　same　as　his：　bloody
miserable。
“Get　yourself　and　the　others　back　up　to　your　tanks。　Stromm　will　have　orders　for　us　to　move　out
soon。　His　people　will　have　found　a　trail　down　for　the　vehicles　by　now。　Do　something　else　for　me；
will　you？　Tell　the　others…　Tell　them　there　were　no　survivors。”
“You　want　me　to　lie；　sir？”　asked　Wulfe。　There　was　a　knife…edge　of　bitterness　in　his　voice。
“I　want　you　to　think　of　what’s　best；　sergeant；”　snapped　van　Droi。　“Morale　is　bastard　low　as　it　is。
So　you　go　up　there　and　you　tell　them　no　one　made　it。　And　we　move　on。　Is　that　clear？”
Wulfe　snapped　his　boots　together。　The　tone　of　his　voice　became　flat　and　hard　as　he　said；
“Crystal　clear；　sir。　My　apologies。　I　should　not　have　questioned　you。”
“No；　Oskar；”　said　van　Droi。　“No　apologies　from　you。　Just…　do　as　I’ve　asked；　will　you？”
“Of　course；　sir。　You　can　count　on　me。”
With　that；　Wulfe　turned；　gathered　the　other　four　men　together　and　led　them　back　up　the　ropes　to
the　waiting　tanks　above。
Van　Droi　hauled　himself　up　onto　Cold　Deliverance；　frowning　under　his　mask　at　how　dizzy　the
effort　made　him　feel。　He　wasn’t　drinking　enough　water　each　day；　not　by　far。　Who　could　blame　him？
The　purification　kits　didn’t　do　much　to　take　away　the　bitter　saline　taste　of　the　processed　urine。　Food
rations　were　also　running　very　low。　He　must　have　lost　a　dozen　kilograms　over　the　last　ten　days；　if
not　more。
He　removed　a　finely…crafted　autopistol　from　the　holster　at　his　hip；　and　lay　down　on　the　upturned
belly　of　the　tank　in　the　spot　Wulfe　had　occupied　a　moment　earlier。　With　the　heel　of　his　pistol　he
began　tapping　a　message　to　the　man　trapped　inside：　Company　commander　here。
82
He　listened　for　a　response。　After　a　few　seconds；　there　came　a　series　of　clangs。　In　his　mind；　van
Droi　translated　the　beats　and　pauses：　Understood。　Greetings。
Van　Droi　tapped　again：　Extrication　impossible。
There　was　a　much　longer　pause　this　time　before　the　response　came　back。　This　time；　a　single
word：　Understood。
Do　you　have　a　weapon？　van　Droi　tapped。
Yes；　tapped　Krausse。　There　was　a　long　pause；　then　he　added；　Will　use。
Van　Droi　wanted　to　tap　the　word　sorry；　but　something　stayed　his　hand。　Instead；　he　tapped；　Go
with　the　Emperor；　son。
He　listened　carefully；　ear　pressed　hard　to　the　thick　metal　below　him；　but　the　tank　driver　had
stopped　tapping　back。　There　was　only　a　single　last　clang　from　inside　the　overturned　machine。　It　was
the　sound　of　a　weapon　discharging。　Van　Droi　didn’t　need　to　decrypt　it　to　know　that　it　meant
goodbye。
As　he　scrambled　down　from　the　tank；　walked　over　to　the　rope；　and　began　the　tiring　climb　back
up；　the　lieutenant’s　heart　felt　like　it　weighed　about　sixty　tonnes　itself。　Damn　it　all；　he　thought。　Who
would　be　a　bloody　leader　of　men？
At　the　top　of　the　rope；　arms　reached　out　to　help　him　over；　and　he　stood　to　find　himself　facing　a
row　of　his　tankers　clad　in　masks　and　goggles