Fifteen Hours(科幻战争)-第2部分

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scab　of　a　half…healed　wound；　he　continued　to　read　the　words　written　on　the　parchment　before　him。
“Arvin？”　He　heard　his　mother’s　voice　behind　him；　breaking　his　chain　of　thought。　“You　startled
me；　standing　there　like　that。　I　didn’t　hear　you　come　in。”
Turning；　Larn　saw　his　mother　standing　beside　him；　a　jar　of　kuedin　seeds　in　her　hand　and　her
eyes　red　with　recently　dried　tears。
“I　just　got　here；　Ma；”　he　said；　feeling　vaguely　embarrassed　as　he　put　the　parchment　back　where
he　had　found　it。　“I　finished　my　chores；　and　thought　I　should　wash　my　hands　before　dinner。”
For　a　moment　his　mother　stood　there　quietly　staring　at　him。　Facing　her　in　uncomfortable　silence；
Larn　realised　how　hard　it　was　for　her　to　speak　at　all　now　she　knew　she　would　be　losing　him
tomorrow。　It　lent　their　every　word　a　deeper　meaning；　making　even　the　most　simple　of　conversations
difficult　while　with　every　instant　there　was　the　threat　that　a　single　ill…chosen　word　might　release　the
painful　tide　of　grief　welling　up　inside　her。
“You　took　your　boots　off？”　she　said　at　last；　retreating　to　the　commonplace　in　search　of　safety。
“Yes；　Ma。　I　left　them　just　inside　the　hallway。”
“Good；”　she　said。　“You’d　better　clean　them　tonight；　so　as　to　be　ready　for　tomorrow…”　At　that
word　his　mother　paused；　her　voice　on　the　edge　of　breaking；　her　teeth　biting　her　lower　lip　and　her
eyelids　closed　as　though　warding　off　a　distant　sensation　of　pain。　Then；　half　turning　away　so　he　could
no　longer　see　her　eyes；　she　spoke　again。
“But　anyway；　you　can　do　that　later；”　she　said。　“For　now；　you’d　better　go　down　to　the　cellar。
Your　Pa’s　already　down　there　and　he　said　he　wanted　to　see　you　when　you　got　back　from　the　fields。”
Turning　further　away　from　him　now；　she　moved　over　to　the　stove　and　lifted　the　lid　off　one　of　the
pans　to　drop　a　handful　of　kuedin　seeds　into　it。　Ever　the　dutiful　son；　Larn　turned　away。　Towards　the
cellar　and　his　father。
The　cellar　steps　creaked　noisily　as　Larn　made　his　way　down　them。　Despite　the　noise；　at　first　his
father　did　not　seem　to　notice　his　approach。　Lost　in　concentration；　he　sat　bent　over　his　workbench　at
9
the　far　end　of　the　cellar；　a　whetstone　in　his　hand　as　he　sharpened　his　wool…shears。　For　a　moment；
watching　his　father　unawares　as　he　worked；　Larn　felt　almost　like　a　ghost　—　as　though　he　had　passed
from　his　family’s　world　already　and　they　could　no　longer　see　or　hear　him。　Then；　finding　the　thought
of　it　gave　him　a　shiver；　he　spoke　at　last　and　broke　the　silence。
“You　wanted　to　see　me；　Pa？”
Starting　at　the　sound　of　his　voice；　his　father　laid　the　shears　and　the　whetstone　down　before
turning　to　look　towards　his　son　and　smile。
“You　startled　me；　Arv；”　he　said。　“Zell’s　oath；　but　you　can　ind　to。　So；
did　you　manage　to　fix　the　pump？”
“Sorry；　Pa。”　Larn　said。　“I　tried　replacing　the　starter　and　every　other　thing　I　could　think　of；　but
none　of　it　worked。”
“You　tried　your　best；　son；”　his　father　said。　“That’s　all　that　matters。　Besides；　the　machine　spirits
in　that　pump　are　so　old　and　ornery　the　damned　thing　never　worked　right　half　the　time　anyway　I’ll
have　to　see　if　I　can　get　a　mechanician　to　come　out　from　Ferrasville　to　give　it　a　good　look…over　next
week。　In　the　meantime；　the　rain’s　been　pretty　good　so　we　shouldn’t　have　a　problem。　But　anyway；
there　was　something　else　I　wanted　to　see　you　about。　Why　don’t　you　grab　yourself　a　stool　so　the　two
of　us　men　can　talk？”
Pulling　an　extra　stool　from　beneath　the　workbench；　his　father　gestured　for　him　to　sit　down。
Then；　waiting　until　he　saw　his　son　had　made　himself　comfortable；　he　began　once　more。
“I　don’t　suppose　I　ever　told　you　too　much　about　your　great…grandfather　before；　did　I？”　he　said。
“I　know　he　was　an　off…worlder；　Pa。”　Larn　said；　earnestly。　“And　I　know　his　name　was　Augustus；
same　as　my　middle　name　is。”
“True　enough；”　his　father　replied。　“It　was　a　tradition　on　your　great…grandfather’s　world　to　pass
on　a　family　name　to　the　first…born　son　in　every　generation。　Course；　he　was　long　dead　by　the　time
you　were　born。　Mind　you；　he　died　even　before　I　was　born。　But　he　was　a　good　man；　and　so　we　did　it
to　honour　him　all　the　same。　A　good　man　should　always　be　honoured；　they　say；　no　matter　how　long
he’s　been　dead。”
For　a　moment；　his　face　grave　and　thoughtful；　his　father　fell　silent。　Then；　as　though　he　had　made
some　decision；　he　raised　his　face　up　to　look　his　son　clearly　in　the　eye　and　spoke　again。
“As　I　say；　your　great…grandfather　was　dead　long　before　I　could　have　known　him；　Arvie。　But
when　I　was　seventeen　and　just　about　to　come　of　age　my　father　called　me　down　into　this　cellar　and
told　me　the　tale　of　him　—　just　like　I’m　about　to　tell　you　now。　You　see；　my　father　had　decided　that
before　I　became　a　man　it　was　important　I　knew　where　I　came　from。　And　I’m　glad　he　did；　cause　what
he　told　me　then　has　stood　me　in　good　stead　ever　since。　Just　like　I’m　hoping　that　what　I’m　going　to
tell　you　now　will　stand　you　in　good　stead　likewise。　Course；　with　what’s　happened　in　the　last　few
days　—　and　where　you’re　bound　for　—　I’ve　got　extra　reasons　for　telling　it　to　you。　Reasons　that；
Emperor　love　him；　my　own　father　never　had　to　face。　But　that’s　the　way　of　things：　each　generation
has　its　own　sorrows；　and　has　to　make　the　best　of　them　they　can。　That’s　all　as　may　be；　though。　Guess
I　should　just　stop　dancing　around　it　and　come　out　and　say　what　it　is　I　have　to　say。”
Again；　as　though　wrestling　inwardly　for　the　right　words；　his　father　paused。　As　he　waited　for　him
to　begin；　Larn　found　himself　suddenly　thinking　how　old　his　father　looked。　Gazing　at　him　as　though
for　the　first　time　he　became　aware　of　the　lines　and　creases　across　his　father’s　face；　the　slightly
rounded　slump　of　his　shoulders；　the　spreading　fingers　of　grey　in　his　once　black　and　lustrous　hair。
Signs　of　aging　he　would　have　sworn　had　not　been　there　a　week　previously。　It　was　almost　as　though
his　father　had　aged　a　decade　in　the　last　few　days。
“Your　great…grandfather　was　in　the　Imperial　Guard；”　his　father　said　at　last。　“Just　like　you’re
going　to　be。”　Then；　seeing　his　son　about　to　blurt　out　a　string　of　questions；　he　held　his　hand　up　to
gesture　silence。　“You　can　ask　whatever　you　want　later；　Arvie。　For　now；　it’s　better　if　you　just　let　me
tell　it　to　you　like　my　father　told　me。　Believe　me；　once　you’ve　heard　it　you’ll　know　why　it　is　I　said　I
thought　you　should　hear　it。”
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Hanging　on　every　word　in　the　quiet　stillness　of　the　cellar；　Larn　heard　his　father　tell　his　tale。
“Your　great…grandfather　was　a　Guardsman；”　his　father　said　again。　“Course；　he　didn’t　start　out　to　be
one。　No　one　does。　To　begin　with　he　was　just　another　farmer’s　son　like　you　or　me；　born　on　a　world
called　Arcadus　V。　A　world　not　unlike　this　one；　he　would　later　say。　A　peaceful　place；　with　lots　of
good　land　for　farming　and　plenty　of　room　for　a　man　to　raise　a　family。　And　if　things　had　followed
their　natural　course；　that’s　just　what　your　great…grandfather　would　have　done。　He　would　have　found
a　wife；　raised　babies；　farmed　the　land；　same　as　generations　of　his　kin　on　Arcadus　V　had　done　before
him。　And　in　time　he　would　have　died　and　been　buried　there；　his　flesh　returning　to　the　fertile　earth
while　his　soul　went　to　join　his　Emperor　in　paradise。　That’s　what　your　great…grandfather　thought　his
future　held　for　him　when　he　came　of　age　at　seventeen。　Then　he　heard　the　news　he’d　been
conscripted　into　the　Guard　and　everything　changed。
“Now；　seventeen　or　not；　your　great…grandfather　was　no　fool。　He　knew　what　being　conscripted
meant。　He　knew　there　was　a　heavy　burden　that　goes　with　being　a　Guardsman　—　a　burden　worse
than　the　threat　of　danger　or　the　fear　of　dying　alone　and　in　pain　under　some　cold　and　distant　sun。　A
burden　of　loss。　The　kind　of　loss　that　comes　when　a　man　knows　he　is　leaving　his　home　forever。　It’s　a
burden　every　Guardsman　carries。　The　burden　of　knowing　that　no　matter　how　long　he　lives　he　will
never　see　his　friends；　his　family；　or　even　his　homeworld　again。　A　Guardsman　never　returns；　Arvie。
The　best　he　can　hope　for；　if　he　survives　long　enough　and　serves　his　Emperor　well；　is　to　be　allowed
to　retire　and　settle　a　new　world　somewhere；　out　among　the　stars。　And　knowing　this　—　knowing　he
was　leaving　his　world　and　his　people　for　good　—　your　great…grandfather’s　heart　was　heavy　as　he
said　farewell　to　his　family　and　made　ready　to　report　for　muster。
“Though　it　may　have　felt　like　his　heart　was　breaking　then；　your　great…grandfather　was　a　good
and　pious　man。　Wise　beyond　his　years；　he　knew　mankind　is　not　alone　in　the　darkness。　He　knew　the
Emperor　is　always　with　us。　Same　as　he　knew　that　nothing　happens　in　all　the　wide　galaxy　without　the
Emperor　willing　it　to　be　so。　And　if　the　Emperor　had　willed　that　he　must　leave　his　family　and　his
homeworld　and　never　see　them　again；　then　your　great…grandfather　knew　it　must　serve　some　greater
purpose。　He　understood　what　the　preachers　mean　when　they　tell　us　it　isn’t　the　place　of　Man　to　know
the　ways　of　the　Emperor。　He　knew　it　was　his　duty　to　follow　the　course　laid　out　for　him；　no　matter
that　he　didn’t　understand　why　that　course　had　been　set。　And　so　trusting　his　life　to　the　Emperor’s
kindness　and　grace；　your　great…grandfather　left　his　homeworld　to　go　find　his　destiny　among　the
stars。
“Now；　the　years　that　followed　then　were　hard　ones。　Although　he　would　never　speak　of　it　much
afterwards；　in　his　time　as　a　Guardsman　your　great…grandfather　saw　more　than　his　fair　share　of
wonders　and　horrors。　He　saw　worlds　where　billions　of　people　lived　right　on　top　of　each　other　like
insects　in　giant　towers；　never　able　to　breathe　clean　air　or　see　the　sun。　He　saw　worlds　that　lay　gripped
all　year　long　in　perpetual　winter；　and　dry　desert　worlds　that　never　saw　a　flake　of　snow　nor　felt　a　drop
of　rain。　He　saw　the　blessed　warriors　of　the　holy　Astartes　—　god…like　giants　in　human　form；　he　called
them　—　and　great　walking　machines　so　big　this　entire　farmhouse　would　fit　inside　one　of　their
footprints。　He　saw　terrors　by　the　score；　in　the　shape　of　all　manner　of　twisted　xenos　and　things　even
ten　times　worse。
“Though　he　faced　a　thousand　and　more　dangers；　though　he　was　at　times　wounded　and　seemed
close　to　death；　still　his　faith　in　the　Emperor　never　faltered。　Five　years　become　ten。　Ten　became
fifteen。　Fifteen　became　twenty。　And　still　your　great…grandfather　followed　his　orders　without　thought
of　complaint；　never　once　asking　when　he　would　be　released　from　service。　Until　at　last；　nearly　thirty
years　after　he’d　first　been　conscripted；　he　was　posted　to　Jumael　IV。
“’Course　this　world　didn’t　mean　much　to　him　then。　Not　at　first。　By　then　he’d　seen　dozens　of
different　planets；　and　at　first　sight　Jumael　didn’t　seem　to　have　anything　much　to　recommend　it　more
than　most。　His　regiment　had　just　finished　a　long　campaign；　and　they　had　been　sent　to　Jumael　to　rest
up　and　recuperate　for　a　month　before　being　shipped　out　to　war　once　more。　By　then　your　great11
grandfather　didn’t　have　too　many　wars　left　in　him。　Oh；　he　tried　to　put　a　brave　face　on　it；　never
complaining。　But　he　was　getting　old；　and　the　wounds　he’d　sustained　in　thirty　years　of　battles　were
starting　to　take　their　toll。　Worst　of　all　was　his　lungs　—　they’d　never　healed　right　after　he　breathed　a
mouthful　of　poison　gas　on　a　world　called　Torpus　III；　yet　still　he　didn’t　waver　in　his　duty。　He　had
given　his　life　over　to　the　service　of　the　Emperor；　and　he　was　content　that　it　was　at　the　Emperor’s
will　whether　he　lived　or　died。
“Then　one　day；　as　the　time　grew　closer　when　they　would　be　leaving　Jumael；　news　came　among
the　regiment　of　something　extraordinary。　Emperor’s　Day　was　coming；　and　with　it　the　thirtieth
anniversary　of　the　founding　of　their　regiment。　As　an　act　of　celebration　it　was　decreed　that　lots　would
be　drawn　from　among　all　the　men；　and　whichever　man　won　would　be　released　from　service　and
allowed　to　remain　behind　when　the　regiment　left　Jumael。　A　lottery　that；　for　one　man　among
thousands；　might　well　mean　the　difference　between　life　and　death。　As　the　day　of　the　lottery　came
upon　them　there　was　a　sudden　outbreak　of　piety　among　the　men；　as　each　man　in　the　regiment　prayed
fervently　to　the　Emperor　to　be　the　one　to　be　chosen。　All　except　your　great…grandfather。　For　though
he　prayed　to　the　Emperor　every　morning　and　night；　it　was　never　his　way　to　ask　for　anything　for
himself。”
“And　so　great…grandfather　won　the　lottery？”　Larn　asked；　breathless　with　excitement　and　no
longer　able　to　keep　his　peace。　“He　won　it；　and　that’s　how　he　came　to　live　on　Jumael？”
“No；　Arvie；”　his　father　smiled　benignly。　“Another　man　won。　A　man　from　the　same　squad　as
your　great…grandfather；　who’d　fought　by　his　side　through　thirty　years　of　campaigning。　Though　that
man　could’ve　just　taken　his　ticket　and　walked　away；　he　didn’t。　Instead；　he　looked　at　your　greatgrandfather
with　his　worn…out　face　and　half…healed　lungs　and　handed　him　the　ticket。　You　see；　he’d
decided　your　great…grandfather　needed　to　be　released　from　service　more　than　he　did。　And　that’s　how
your　great…grandfather　came　to　settle　on　Jumael　IV；　through　the　kindness　and　self…sacrifice　of　a
comrade。　Though　in　the　years　to　come；　your　great…grandfather　would　always　say　there　was　more　to
it　than　that。　He　would　say　sometimes　the　hand　of　the　Emperor　can　be　seen　in　the　smallest　of　things；
and　that　it　was　the　Emperor　who　had　decided　to　work　through　this　man　to　save　his　life。　In　the　end　it
was　a　miracle　of　sorts。　A　quiet　miracle；　perhaps；　but　a　miracle　all　the　same。”
With　that；　his　father　fell　silent　again。　Looking　at　him　Larn　could　see　the　first　beginnings　of　tears
shining　wetly　in　his　eyes。　Then；　at　length；　his　father　spoke　once　more；　his　every　word　heavy　with
barely　suppressed　emotion。
“You　see　now　why　I　thought　you　should　hear　the　tale；　Arvie？”　he　said。　“Tomorrow；　just　like
your　great…grandfather　before　you；　you’re　going　to　have　to　leave　your　home　and　your　kin　behind；
never　to　return。　And；　knowing　full　well　you　may　have　some　hard　years　ahead　of　you；　before　you　left
I　wanted　you　to　hear　the　tale　of　your　great…grandfather　and　how　he　survived。　I　wanted　you　to　be　able
to　take　that　tale　with　you。　So　that　no　matter　how　dark；　even　hopeless；　things　might　seem　to　you　at
times；　you’d　know　the　Emperor　was　always　with　you。　Trust　to　the　Emperor；　Arvie。　Sometimes　it’s
all　that　we　can　do。　Trust　to　the　Emperor；　and　everything　will　be　all　right。”
No　longer　able　to　keep　the　tears　from　flowing；　his　father　turned　away　so　his　son　could　not　see　his
eyes。　While　his　father　cried　into　the　shadows　Larn　sat　there　with　him　as　long　uncomfortable
moments　passed；　struggling　to　find　the　right　words　to　soothe　his　grief。　Until　finally；　deciding　it　was
better　to　say　something　than　nothing　at　all；　he　spoke　and　broke　the　silence。
“I’ll　remember　that；　Pa；”　he　said；　the　words　coming　with　faltering　slowness　from　him　as　he　tried
to　choose　the　best　way　of　saying　it。　“I’ll　remember　every　word　of　it。　Like　you　said；　I’ll　take　it　with
me　and　I’ll　think　of　it　whenever　things　get　bad。　And　I　promise　you：　I’ll　do　what　you　said。　I’ll　trust　to
the　Emperor；　just　like　you　said。　I　promise　it；　Pa。　And　something　else。　I　promise；　you　don’t　have　to
worry　about　me　doing　my　best　when　I　go　to　war。　No　matter　what　happens；　I’ll　always　do　my　duty。”
“I　know　you　will；　Arvie；”　his　father　said　at　last　as　he　wiped　the　tears　from　his　eyes。　“You’re　the
best　son　a　man　could　have。　And　when　you’re　a　Guardsman；　I　know　you’ll　make　your　Ma　and　me
proud。”
12
CHAPTER　TWO
12：07　hours　Jumal　IV　Central　Planetary　Time
（Western　Summer　Adjustment）
Marching　Practice　—　Conversations　with　Sergeant　Ferres　—　A　Meal　Among　Comrades
“Hup　Two　Three　four。　Hup　two　three　four。”　Sergeant　Ferres　yelled；　keeping　pace　with　the　men　of
3rd　Platoon　as　they　marched　the　dusty　length　of　the　parade　ground。　“You　call　that　marching？　I’ve
seen　more　order　and　discipline　in　a　pack　of　shithouse　rats。”
Marching　in　time　with　the　others；　painfully　aware　of　his　own　visibility；　Larn　found　himself
silently　praying　his　feet　kept　in　step。　His　place　midway　along　the　platoon’s　left　outer　file　put　him　out
in　plain　view　right　under　the　sergeant’s　eyes。　The　two　months’　worth　of　basic　training　he　had
endured　so　far　had　left　him　with　few　illusions　as　to　what　happened　to　those　who　failed　to　live　up　to
the　sergeant’s　exacting　standards。
“Keep　your　feet　up；”　the　sergeant　screamed。　“You’re　not　courting　in　the　wheat　fields　with　your
cousins　now；　you　inbreeds！　You　are　soldiers　of　the　Imperial　Guard；　Emperor　help　us。　Put　some　vim
into　it。”　Then；　seeing　the　platoon　was　nearly　at　the　far　edge　of　the　parade　ground；　Ferres　yelled
again；　his　voice　strident　and　shrill　with　command。　“Platoon。　About　face。　And　march。”
Turning　smartly　on　his　heel　with　the　others；　as　they　resumed　marching　Larn　found　himself
feeling　dog…tired　and　exhausted。　So　far　today；　like　each　of　the　sixty　days　before　it；　Ferres　had　had
them　running　training　exercises　since　dawn。　Marching；　weapons　drill；　kit　inspection；　hand…to…hand
training；　basic　survival　skills：　every　day　was　a　never…ending　series　of　challenges　and　tests。　Larn　felt
he　had　learnt　more　in　the　last　two　months　than　he　had　in　his　entire　life。　Yet；　no　matter　how　much　he
and　the　rest　of　the　platoon　learned　or　how　well　you　did；　none　of　it　seemed　to　satisfy　their　vengeful
sergeant。
“Hup　two　three　four。　Keep　in　step；　damn　you；”　the　sergeant　bellowed。　“I’ll　keep　the　whole
damned　lot　of　you　drilling　here　for　another　two　hours　if　that’s　what　it　takes　to　make　you　keep　to
time！”
Larn　did　not　doubt　Ferres　meant　his　threat。　Over　the　last　two　months　the　sergeant　had　repeatedly
shown　an　inclination　to　hand　out　draconian　punishments　for　even　the　most　minor　infractions。
Having　been　on　the　receiving　end　of　such　punishments　more　than　once　already；　Larn　had　learned　to
dread　the　sergeant　and　his　idea　of　discipline。
“Company　halt；”　Sergeant　Ferres　yelled　at　last；　hawkish　eyes　watching　to　see　if　any　of　the
Guardsmen　overran　their　mark。　Then；　apparently　satisfied　that　every　man　had　stopped　the　instant
they　heard　his　order；　he　yelled　again；　loudly　elongating　every　syllable　of　the　command。　“Turn　to　the
left！”
With　a　sudden　clatter　of　clicking　heels　the　company　turned　to　face　their　sergeant。　Seeing　Ferres
advance　purposefully　towards　them；　Larn　did　his　best　to　keep　his　shoulders　back　and　his　spine
ramrod　straight；　his　eyes　staring　fixedly　ahead　as　though　gazing　blindly　into　the　middle　distance。　He
knew　enough　of　Sergeant　Ferres’　ways　by　now　to　know　that　an　inspection　would　follow
immediately　they　had　finished　marching。　Just　as　he　knew　Ferres　would　not　be　any　kinder　to　the
soldier　who　failed　to　pass　muster　now　than　he　would　to　anyone　whose　marching　did　not　meet　his
standards。
13
From　the　corner　of　his　eye　Larn　saw　Sergeant　Ferres　move　to　the　end　of　the　outer　file　of
Guardsmen　to　begin　his　inspection。　Moving　slowly　along　the　line　to　inspect　each　man　in　turn；　the
sergeant’s　dark　eyes　darted　swiftly　up　and　down；　scanning　for　any　flaent；　dress　or
manner。　At　times　like　these；　no　matter　where　in　line　he　stood；　it　always　felt　to　Larn　as　though　it　took
the　sergeant　forever　to　reach　him。　A　slow　torturous　eternity；　spent　waiting　like　the　head　of　a　nail　to
be　struck　by　the　hammer　—　all　the　time　knowing　that；　no　matter　how　well　he　had　worked　or　what
precautions　he　had　taken；　the　hammer　would　fall　regardless。
Abruptly；　still　three　men　away　from　Larn；　the　sergeant　stopped　to