Death World(科幻战争)-第10部分

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and　he　was　quicker　to　recover　this　time。　Lorenzo　let　out　a　breath　of　relief—and　realised　he　had　been
holding　it—as　Braxton　joined　the　others。　Mackenzie　had　been　rigid　with　worry；　too。　Who’d　have
thought　the　commissar　cared　about　his　adjutant　as　anything　more　than　a　human　shield？
Greiss　and　Muldoon；　on　the　other　hand；　had　been　conferring　in　low　whispers；　ignoring　the　drama
playing　out　over　the　river。　As　the　threat　to　Braxton　passed；　and　Mackenzie’s　attention　turned　back
towards　them；　they　parted　smoothly—but　their　eyes　met　for　a　second；　and　Lorenzo　thought　he　saw
something　ominous　in　that　gaze。　A　flicker　of　a　resolution　made　and　confirmed。
Mackenzie　ordered　the　three　remaining　Jungle　Fighters　to　begin　work　on　another　rope。　“Waste
of　time；”　opined　Greiss。　“We　don’t　need　two　ropes。　The　second　was　a　backup；　that’s　all。”
“A　safety　precaution；”　said　Mackenzie　stiffly；　“that　turned　out　to　be　entirely　necessary。”
“Only　because　your　Guardsman　didn’t　know　what　he　was　doing；”　countered　Greiss。　“If　he’d
followed　Brains’　advice—”
“I’m　not　trusting　my　life　to—”　Mackenzie　began。
Greiss　interrupted　with；　“There’s　only　four　of　us　left　to　cross；　and　Muldoon　and　Lorenzo　here
aren’t　crying　about　it。　That　rope’s　held　up　just　fine　so　far。　Better　to　take　a　chance　than　spend　another
hour　sitting　around　here　doing　craftwork。　We’re　already　behind　schedule。”　And　with　that；　he　hoisted
Landon’s　pack　on　his　right　arm；　and　slipped　his　own　onto　the　left　to　keep　himself　balanced。　Then　he
hauled　himself　up　onto　the　remaining　rope　and；　emulating　Woods；　began　to　swarm　across　it　without
a　harness。
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“Come　back　here；　Greiss！”　roared　Mackenzie。　“I’m　warning　you；　if　you　don’t　come　back　here
this　instant；　I’ll…　I’ll…”
“Way　I　see　it；　sir；”　said　Muldoon　nonchalantly；　“there　isn’t　much　more　you　can　threaten　him
with。”
“I’ll　be　adding　this　to　the　list　of　charges　against　you；　trooper！”　the　commissar　yelled　after　the
departing　Greiss。　“Muldoon；　what　do　you　think　you’re　doing？”
Muldoon　had　beckoned　Lorenzo　forward；　and　was　tying　a　rope　around　his　waist。　Mackenzie
pushed　Lorenzo　aside；　and　announced；　“I’ll　be　going　across　next。　I　don’t　trust　Greiss　and　Woods
over　there　unsupervised。”
“I’m　sure　Guardsman　Braxton　can　keep　an　eye　on　them；　sir；”　said　Muldoon；　tongue…in…cheek。
Mackenzie　just　glared　at　him；　and　said　nothing。
Muldoon　tied　Mackenzie　into　his　harness；　then　gave　him　the　nod　that　he　was　ready　to　go。　He
didn’t　help　him　up　to　the　rope　as　he　had　most　of　the　Jungle　Fighters；　he　just　watched　as　the
commissar　scrambled　up　to　it　himself。　He　took　hold　unsteadily；　and　eyed　the　acid　river　below　him。
Then　the　commissar　began　to　cross；　moving　hand　over　hand　and　foot　over　foot　at　a　confident；
unhurried　pace。　That　was　when　Lorenzo　caught　that　glint　in　Muldoon’s　eye　again；　and　he　felt　his
heart　miss　a　beat。
He　had　heard　that　the　attrition　rate　of　commissars　assigned　to　Catachan　squads　was　many　times
the　Imperium　average。　These　losses　were　officially　dismissed　as　accidents；　of　course—a　natural
consequence　of　sending　non…deathworlders；　no　matter　how　high…ranking；　how　well…trained；　into　an
environment　to　which　they　weren’t　suited。　It　was　rarely　acknowledged　that　there　might　be　anything
more　to　it　than　that—at　least；　it　hadn’t　happened　within　Lorenzo’s　earshot。　But　everybody　knew—or
at　least　suspected—the　unspoken　truth。
The　deathworlds　of　the　Imperium　bred　men　who　were　independent；　proud；　and　loyal　only　to
those　who　had　earned　their　respect。　That　went　double　for　Catachan。
“He’s　doing　well；”　murmured　Muldoon；　watching　the　commissar’s　progress　with　obvious
resentment；　“for　a　city　boy。　Too　well。”
He　reached　up　to　the　end　of　the　root　rope；　still　tied　to　the　tree　beside　him；　and　he　looked　at
Lorenzo　as　if　he　was　challenging　him　to　say　something；　to　stop　him—and　it　did　occur　to　Lorenzo
that　maybe　he　should；　maybe　it　was　the　right　thing　to　do；　but　his　throat　was　dry　and　the　words
wouldn’t　come；　and　anyway　this　was　nothing　to　do　with　him　and　even　if　it　was；　his　loyalties　lay
with　his　own　kind；　didn’t　they？
Didn’t　they？
Too　late。　He　was　always　too　late。
Muldoon　wrapped　his　fingers　around　the　end　of　the　rope　and；　with　a　smile　of　grim　satisfaction；
he　gave　it　a　good　tug。
Lorenzo　watched　as　the　vibrations　travelled　the　first　half　of　the　rope’s　length；　to　where
Mackenzie　was　clinging　on。　There　wasn’t　time　to　shout　a　warning；　even　if　he　had　wanted　to。　The
rope　jerked　itself　out　of　the　commissar’s　hands；　simultaneously　flipping　him　so　that　he　was　on　top　of
it。　He　flailed；　caught　by　surprise；　trying　to　find　fresh　purchase；　slipped；　plummeted　to　the　extent　of
his　harness’　slack—and　then　the　harness　gave　way；　as　Lorenzo　had　known　it　must。　A　simple
slipknot。
There　was　nothing　holding　Commissar　Mackenzie　now。
He　was　in　freefall。
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CHAPTER　NINE
Lorenzo　didn’t　want　to　look；　but　he　couldn’t　turn　away。
There　was　no　time；　anyhow。　Mackenzie　would　hit　the　acid　before　he　could　blink。
Unless；　somehow；　impossibly；　the　direction　of　his　fall　was　reversed。
Unless　he　had　managed　to　reach　up　and；　with　a　last　desperate　lunge；　catch　the　rope　above　his
head　and　ride　it　back　up　as　it　bounced。
The　commissar’s　grunt　of　pain　was　loud　enough　to　reach　Lorenzo’s　ears；　even　over　the　rushing
of　the　river。　He　was　clinging；　one…handed；　to　a　rope　that　was　still　bucking；　trying　its　best　to　shake
him。　The　way　he　had　dropped；　the　way　he’d　arrested　his　fall；　the　way　he　was　hanging　now；　his　feet
pedalling　the　air—Lorenzo　was　sure　Mackenzie　must　have　dislocated　his　shoulder。　It　must　have
been　a　supreme　effort　of　will　for　him　to　hold　on　at　all；　as　the　pain　spread　to　his　fingers　and　numbed
them。　But　hold　on　he　did—and　more　than　that；　he　managed　to　lift　himself；　find　the　rope　with　his
other　hand；　and　finally　grip　it　between　his　knees。
Lorenzo　was　impressed　despite　himself。　Muldoon　looked　like　he　could　hardly　believe　his　eyes。
Then　his　expression　darkened；　and　he　reached　for　the　end　of　the　rope　again。
Lorenzo　put　out　a　hand　without　thinking；　and　caught　his　comrade’s　own。　Muldoon　looked　angry；
and　Lorenzo　didn’t　blame　him；　he　wasn’t　sure　of　his　own　motives　for　intervening；　so　how　could　he
expect　Sharkbait　to　understand？　He　held　his　gaze；　and　shook　his　head：　Enough！　But　he　knew　he　was
going　to　blink　first。
To　Lorenzo’s　surprise；　Muldoon　gave　a　nod　of　acceptance。　He　took　his　hand　away。　He　turned　so
that　Lorenzo　couldn’t　see　his　expression。
The　rope　began　to　tremble　again。　Lorenzo　didn’t　look；　but　he　knew　Mackenzie　must　be　back　on
the　move。　A　moment　later；　the　rope　gave　a　little　jerk　as　it　was　relieved　of　the　commissar’s　weight；
and　Muldoon　turned　to　catch　the　remaining　harness　as　Myers　flung　it　back　to　him。
He　said　nothing　as　he　tied　the　rope　around　Lorenzo’s　waist。　As　Muldoon　hoisted　his　comrade
into　position　on　the　crossing　rope；　however；　their　eyes　met；　and　Lorenzo　thought　they　shared　a
moment　of　mutual　respect。
Then　Muldoon　turned　away　again；　and　Lorenzo　was　alone；　concentrating　on　the　rope　between
his　hands　and　feet；　the　muscles　in　his　arms　and　legs；　and　the　rushing　acid　river　below　his　dangling
head。
Halfway　across；　it　occurred　to　him　that　if　he　had　upset　Muldoon；　he　was　probably　about　to　find
out　all　about　it。
When　Muldoon　stepped　onto　the　far　riverbank；　the　last　of　the　squad　to　cross；　Mackenzie　was　waiting
for　him。
Braxton　had　reset　the　commissar’s　shoulder；　and　fixed　him　a　makeshift　sling；　but　he　was
obviously　in　pain。　Still；　he　greeted　Muldoon　with　a　left…handed　punch　to　the　jaw　that　was　fast；
accurate　and　powerful　enough　to　knock　him　off　his　feet。
Muldoon　lay　sprawled　in　the　undergrowth；　wiping　the　blood　from　his　lip。
Mackenzie　stepped　back　and　straightened　his　jacket；　glaring　down　at　the　trooper。
The　Catachan　rubbed　his　chin　ruefully　and　conceded；　“Alright。　I　deserved　that。”　He　got　to　his
feet　and　dusted　himself　down。
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“And　a　damn　sight　more；”　hissed　Mackenzie。　“If　you　wanted　to　join　Greiss　on　Death　Row；　you
couldn’t　have　thought　up　a　better　way　of　doing　it；　Muldoon。”
“Hey；”　said　Muldoon；　all　injured　innocence；　“you　can’t　blame　a　trooper　for　a　simple　accident。”
Mackenzie’s　nostrils　flared。　“Accident　my—！”
Greiss　interrupted；　“You　want　to　be　careful；　commissar；　accusing　a　good　man　of　attempted
murder　when　you’ve　no　evidence；　especially　in　front　of　his　squad。　Muldoon　says　it　was　an　accident；
that’s　good　enough　for　me。”
Mackenzie　ignored　him。　He　was　glaring　at　Muldoon。　“I　want　him　restrained；”　he　said　icily。
“Silence！”　he　bellowed　at　the　chorus　of　protest　that　greeted　the　order。　“I　want　this　man　stripped　of
weapons；　and　his　hands　tied。　Braxton！”
Braxton　started　forward；　seeming　almost　relieved　when　Greiss　barred　his　way　with　an
outstretched　arm。　“You　can’t　do　that；　commissar；”　he　snarled。　“You　make　a　man　defenceless　in　the
jungle；　you’re　as　good　as　killing　him；　without　a　trial；　without　nothing。”
“What　do　you　suggest　I　do；　Greiss？　Muldoon　has　proven　himself　a　danger　to　this　mission—to
me　personally。　“I　have　the　authority　to　execute　him　on　the　spot。　Is　that　what　you　want？”
“It　was　an　accident。”
Lorenzo　had　surprised　himself　again；　but　he　felt　he　owed　Muldoon　something。　He　was
committed　now；　everyone　had　turned　to　look　at　him。
“I　was　right　there；”　he　said。　“I　saw　it　all。　A　bird　flew　at　Muldoon。　One　of　the　black　ones；　from
yesterday。　It　came　right　out　of　the　tree　above　his　head。　It　startled　him。　His　arm　jolted　the　rope。”
“That’s　right。”　Woods　spoke　up。　“I　saw　it　from　here。　Sharkbait　slashed　at　it　with　his　reaper；
injured　its　wing　I　think；　and　sent　it　flapping　away。”
A　couple　of　the　others　gave　nods　and　murmurs　of　agreement。
Mackenzie　looked　from　one　of　the　Jungle　Fighters　to　another；　evidently　not　believing　a　word　of
their　story。　“My　harness—”
“—must　have　been　frayed；”　said　Muldoon。　“I’m　sorry。　I　should　have　checked　it　more　closely。　I
should　have　seen　the　damage　before　I　sent　you　off。　Sir。”
Mackenzie　glared　at　Muldoon　for　a　long　moment。　Then　he　turned　to　Braxton。　“I　still　want　him
bound；”　he　said。　“To　ensure　there　are　no　more　‘accidents’。”
This　time；　both　Myers　and　Storm　stepped　forward；　placing　themselves　between　Braxton　and
Muldoon；　their　arms　folded　in　defiance。　Woods　drew　his　devil　claw；　the　glint　of　it　catching　the
commissar’s　eye　and　giving　him　pause　for　thought。
“I　don’t　think　you’re　hearing　us；　Mackenzie；”　growled　Greiss；　stepping　forward　until　he　was
nose　to　nose　with　the　slighter　man。　“You　may　be　Mr　High…and…Mighty　Commissar　back　in　your
comfortable　quarters；　surrounded　by　a　thousand　Guardsmen　ready　to　bow　and　scrape　and　lay　down
their　lives　for　you—but　you’re　on　a　deathworld　now。　This　is　our　territory—that’s　why　we’re　here！
Until　you　start　to　wise　up　and　do　things　our　way；　‘accidents’　are　going　to　keep　on　happening；　you
get　my　drift？”
“Are　you　threatening　me；　Greiss？”　demanded　Mackenzie。　“I　have　witnesses。”
“You　have　Braxton。”
“If　anything　happens　to　me；　anything　at　all—”
“It’ll　be　in　his　report。　Yes；　I　worked　that　out。　If　he　ever　gets　to　make　one；　that　is。　Like　I　keep
telling　you；　Mackenzie；　accidents　happen　out　here。”
Mackenzie’s　ears　were　still　red；　but　the　rest　of　his　face　had　turned　very　white　indeed。　He’d　got
the　message；　at　last。
“He’s　a　good　man；　you　know。”
Lorenzo’s　attention　had　been　focused　on　the　jungle。　There　had　been　more　lizards　stirring　in　the
foliage；　and　he’d　that　feeling　of　being　followed　again　although　he　could　see　no　proof。　He　hadn’t
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noticed　Braxton　until　he　had　spoken；　hadn’t　seen　that　he’d　dropped　back　in　the　marching　order　to　be
at　Lorenzo’s　side。　Briefly；　he　felt　irritated　that　the　Validian　always　seemed　to　come　to　him。　Lorenzo
didn’t　feel　like　talking　right　now；　least　of　all　about　what　had　happened　by　the　river。
But　Braxton　was　determined。　“The　commissar；　I　mean；”　he　continued。　“You’ll　see　that　when
you’ve　worked　beside　him　for　a　while。”
Lorenzo　raised　a　sceptical　eyebrow。
“I　know　he’s　been　tough　on　you　all。　He’s　fresh　out　of　training。　Maybe　he’s　trying　too　hard　to
prove　he　can　do　the　job。”
“His　problem；”　said　Lorenzo　curtly。　“We　can’t　afford　to　carry　him。　On　Catachan；　he’d　have　been
dead　twenty　years　ago。”
“Thank　you；　anyway；”　said　Braxton。
“For　what？”
“For　stopping　Muldoon。　I　saw　you。”
“You　were　too　far　away。　You’re　mistaken。”
“You　must　agree　with　me—that　the　commissar　doesn’t　deserve　to　die。”
“I　agree　with　my　comrades；”　said　Lorenzo；　“that　Old　Hardhead　doesn’t　deserve　what　Mackenzie
has　planned　for　him；　that　Steel　Toe　was　a　good　soldier；　who　didn’t　deserve　what　Mackenzie　said
about　him。”
“There　has　to　be　a　way—”
“It’s　him　or　Greiss。”
“You　know；　if　it　comes　down　to　that；”　said　Braxton；　“I…　I　have　to…”　Lorenzo　nodded。　He
knew。　They　said　no　more。　There　was　nothing　more　to　say。
They　rested　in　an　area　lush　with　what　Muldoon　and　Donovits　judged　were　water…bearing　vines。
They　snacked　on　purple　berries　that　Muldoon　had　picked　and　tested　earlier。　Then　Lorenzo　drew　his
Catachan　fang；　took　a　vine　in　his　hand　and　scored　a　thin　cut　in　its　skin。　The　vine　bled　clear；　and
Lorenzo　positioned　his　near…empty　bottle　to　capture　the　precious　drops　of　liquid；　of　which　there
were　all　too　few。
Within　twenty　minutes；　the　Jungle　Fighters　had　drained　the　vines　of　all　they　had；　replenishing
their　supplies　just　a　little。　As　Lorenzo　returned　his　bottle　to　his　pack；　he　heard　low　voices；　and
realised　that　Greiss　wasn’t　with　them。
He　could　just　make　out　Sergeant　Greiss　through　the　jungle。　He　was　talking　to　somebody　else：　a
man　whom　Lorenzo　couldn’t　see　at　all；　so　easily　did　he　blend　into　his　surroundings；　but　he　knew　it
could　only　have　been　Sly　Marbo。　He　couldn’t　make　out　what　was　being　said—but　as　Greiss　turned
and　trudged　back　to　the　others；　it　was　with　slumped　shoulders　and　a　dark；　brooding　expression。
He　gathered　the　Jungle　Fighters　around—and　to　Lorenzo’s　surprise；　Mackenzie　didn’t　object；　he
just　joined　them　and　listened。　Greiss　told　the　squad　what　Lorenzo　already　knew：　that　there　were　orks
ahead—and　Mackenzie　raised　his　eyebrows　and　frowned　at　his　sketch　map　but　again　said　nothing。
“Marbo’s　scouted　a　path　for　us；”　said　Greiss；　“that’ll　take　us　around　the　greenskins；　but　still　too
close　for　my　liking。　Now；　the　commissar　here　explained　why　we　can’t　blow　our　cover；　but　here’s
another　reason　for　you：　Marbo　figures；　from　the　size　of　this　camp　and　the　number　of　huts；　that　the
greenskins　outnumber　us　about　thirty　to　one。　Even　Hotshot　can’t　take　down　thirty　orks　on　his　own！”
“Oh　yeah？”　grinned　Woods。　“Lead　me　to　’em；　that’s　all　I’m　saying。”
“So　the　only　way　we’re　getting　through　this　one。”　Greiss　continued；　“is　by　stealth。”
“How　far　is　this　camp？”　asked　Donovits。
“Another　five　kilometres；”　said　Greiss；　“before　we　start　running　into　patrols。　I　say　we　make　up
that　ground；　then　break　early　for　the　night。　We　get　some　food；　some　shut…eye；　then　make　our　move
in　the　small　hours。”
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There　was　a　general　murmur　of　assent；　and　the　Jungle　Fighters　were　starting　to　get　to　their　feet；
to　retrieve　their　packs；　when　Greiss　stopped　them。　“One　more　thing。　Any　of　you　felt　like　you’re
being　followed？　Since　Lorenzo’s　little　outburst；　I　mean。”
Nobody　spoke　up。　A　few　of　the　Jungle　Fighters　exchanged　uncomfortable　glances。　Greiss’　eyes
narrowed。　“I　don’t　hear　any　of　you　denying　it。”
Unexpectedly；　it　was　Mackenzie　who　spoke　up。　“I　thought　I　heard　something。　Footsteps；　about
an　hour　and　a　half　ago。　When　I　looked；　there　was　no　one　there。　I　assumed　it　was　Marbo。”
“I　saw　something；”　offered　Donovits；　“more　recently。　I　didn’t　speak　up　because…　Sergeant；　it
was　just　a　flicker　in　the　corner　of　my　eye。　A　trick　of　the　light。　A…　a　feeling；　more　than　anything。”
“Wildman　and　me；　we　dropped　back　without　telling　the　rest　of　you；”　said　Myers；　“checked　out　a
bush　where　I　thought　I’d　seen　something　move。　It　would’ve　been　about　the　time　the　commissar
said。”
“But　there　was　no　one　there。”　Storm　took　up　the　story；　“and　believe　me；　if　there　had　been；　there
was　nowhere　he　could’ve　gone　without　us　seeing　him。”
Greiss　took　all　this　in　with　a　grim　nod。　“Marbo　reckons　there　is　something。　He’s　caught　glimpses
of　it；　like　the　rest　of　us；　reckons　it’s　stalking　us。　But　whenever　he　gets　too　close；　it　disappears。　It
leaves　no　tracks；　no　nothing。”　With　a　smile；　he　added；　“Marbo　says　it’s　almost　as　good　as　he　is。”
“Ghosts！”　said　Braxton。
Everyone　turned　to　look　at　him。
“That’s　what　the　Validians　have　been　saying。　I　reported　on　it　for　Eagle　&　Bolter；　our　broadsheet。
The　same　story；　from　four　different　squads。　They　all　had　the　feeling　they　were　being　followed；　but
there　was　no　evidence　of　it。　I　thought　it　might　be　connected　to　the　blue　lights；　the　jungle　playing
tricks　on　their　minds。”
“Hallucinogens　in　the　atmosphere？”　mused　Donovits。　“Could　be　put　out　by　one　of　the　plants。
They　could　even　be　in　the　berries　we’ve　eaten。”
“I　didn’t　eat　any　berries；”　said　Myers；　“at　least　not　till　after　I　saw　that…　thing。”
“This　could　be　serious；”　grumbled　Greiss。　“First　Sharkbait　goes　off　the　deep　end；　then　Steel　Toe
and　Lorenzo　go　wandering　in　the　night；　now　this。　If　this　jungle　gets　us　so　we　can’t　trust　our　own
senses…”
“You　said　Marbo　saw　this　‘ghost’；”　said　Donovits。　“He　saw　it　following　us。　If　the　jungle　were
affecting　him；　making　him—making　all　of　us—paranoid；　then　surely　he’d　have　thought　the　ghost
was　following　him。　That　makes　sense；　yes？”
“Then　it　has　to　be　real；”　said　Lorenzo。
“We　need　to　know　for　sure；”　said　Armstrong。
“Maybe　we　should　leave　well　enough　alone；”　said　Braxton。　“I　mean；　there’s　no　record　of　these
‘ghosts’　attacking　anyone。”
“Yet；”　said　Armstrong。　“You　should　have　learned　by　now；　that　could　change　in　a　heartbeat。　I　say
we　search。”
Greiss　nodded　his　agreement；　and　the　squad　separated；　each　man　taking　a　sector　of　the　jungle
around　them；　though　each　was　sure　to　stay　within　sight　of　two　others　at　all　times。　They　kicked　and
cut　their　way　through　the　undergrowth；　beat　bushes；　shook　trees　and　even　shinned　up　some　to　search
their　leaf…shrouded　upper　branches。　The　Jungle　Fighters　checked　all　the　places　where　they　would
have　hidden。　Finally；　they　regrouped；　having　covered　an　area　some　three　hundred　metres　in　radius
and　found　nothing。　No　one。　No　sign　that　anyone　had　been　here；　other　than　the　Jungle　Fighters
themselves。
There　was　nothing　they　could　do　after　that　but　go　on。　It　was　only　a　few　minutes　later；　however；　that
Lorenzo　had　that　feeling　again；　like　a　prickling　on　his　neck。
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He　wasn’t　the　only　one。　As　he　whipped　around　to　inspect　the　foliage　behind　him；　Storm　and
Braxton　did　the　same。　And　this　time；　Lorenzo　was　sure　of　it。　There　was　something　there。　He　could
just　make　out　a　shape　between　the　trees。　A　head　and　shoulders。　Fie　drew　his　lasgun　and　stepped
forward；　not　wanting　to　move　too　fast；　not　daring　to　blink；　to　take　his　eyes　off　the　shape。　His　other
senses　told　him　that　Storm　and　Braxton　were　beside　him；　and　the　rest　of　his　squad　not　far　behind。
Lorenzo　took　another　step。　The　head　moved；　shifting　just　a　fraction；　in　a　very　human　gesture。
He　was　only　a　few　metres　away　from　the　shape　when　it　changed。　It　seemed　to　metamorphose—
or；　more　accurately；　to　come　into　focus—in　front　of　his　eyes。　The　shape　resolved　itself　into　a　clu