The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第26部分

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beyond　anything　we　can　manufacture　today。'
I　would　owe　Clan　Esw　Sweydyr　for　this　weapon；　as　I　already　owed　them　for　Arianrhod's　life。　I　should　have　returned　it　to　their　care；
for　it　was　part　of　their　clan　legacy　and　usuril；　or　''living　story''。　It　was　mine　to　safeguard；　not　to　take；　and　certainly　not　to　deface　this
way。　But　face　to　face　with　Prophaniti　at　Kasr　Gesh　I　had　learned　two　things。　Indeed；　that　monstrous　thing　had　told　them　to　me。
Pentagrammatic　wards　worked　against　dae…monhosts；　but　they　were　no　stronger　than　the　weapon　that　bore　them。
To　my　certain　knowledge；　there　were　few　finer；　stronger　blades　in　human　space。　I　would　make　my　peace　and　apologies　to　the　clans　of
Carthae　in　time；　fates　permitting。
I　went　to　touch　it；　but　Bure　stopped　me。　'It　is　still　resting。　We　must　respect　its　anima。　In　a　few　days；　you　can　take　it。　Train　with　it　well。
You　must　know　it　intimately　before　you　use　it　in　combat。'
He　accompanied　me　to　the　door　of　the　forge。　'Both　weapons　must　be　blessed　and　consecrated　before　use。　I　cannot　do　that；　though　I　can
ceremonially　dedicate　their　manufacture　to　the　Machine　God。'
'I　have　already　planned　for　their　consecration；'　I　said。　'But　I　would　welcome　your　ceremony。　When　I　go　against　Quixos；　I　can　think　of
no　more　potent　a　patron　god　to　be　looking　down　over　me　than　your　Machine　Lord。'
'WE　WILL　BE　leaving　in　a　few　days；'　I　told　him。
The　casket　was　silent　for　a　while。　'I　will　miss　our　conversations；　Eisenhorn。'
'Nevertheless；　I　have　to　go。'
'You　think　you're　ready？'
'I　think　this　part　of　my　readiness　is　complete。　Is　there　anything　else　you　can　tell　me？'
'I　have　been　wondering　that。　I　cannot　think　of　anything。　Except…'
'Except　what？'
The　lights　around　the　engram　sphere　twinkled。　'Except　this。　Apart　from　everything　you've　learned　from　me；　the　secrets；　the　lore；　the
mysteries；　you　must　know　that　going　after　this　foe　is…　dangerous。'
I　laughed　involuntarily。　'I　think　I've　worked　that　much　out　already；　Pontius！'
'No；　you　don't　know　what　I　mean。　You　have　the　determination；　I　know；　the　ambition；　I　know　that　too　…　you　have　the　knowledge；　we
assume；　and　the　weapons　too；　we　hope　…　but　unless　your　mind　is　prepared；　you　will　perish。　Instantly；　and　no　ward　or　staff　or　blade　or
rune　will　save　you。'
'You　sound　like…　you　care　if　I　lose。'
'Do　I？　Then　consider　this；　Gregor　Eisenhom。　You　may　deem　me　a　monster　beneath　contempt；　but　if　I　do　care；　what　does　that　say　about
me？　Or　you？'
'Goodbye；　Pontius　Glaw；'　I　said；　and　closed　the　cell　hatches　behind　me　for　the　last　time。
I　WILL　RECORD　this　thought　now；　because　I　feel　I　must。　For　all　that　Pontius　Glaw　was…　and　for　all　that　came　later；　I　cannot　shake　my
bond　to　him；　though　I　try。　There；　in　the　cell　on　Cinchare；　and　a　century　before　in　the　dim　hold　of　the　Essene；　we　had　spoken　together
for　hundreds　of　hours。　I　had　no　doubt　that　he　was　an　unforgivably　evil　thing；　and　that　he　would　have　killed　me　in　a　second　during
those　times　had　he　been　allowed　the　chance。　But　he　was　a　being　of　extraordinary　intellect；　wit　and　learning。　Admirable　in　so　many；
strange　ways。　But　for　that　tore；　Aaa's　tore；　back　on　that　spring　day　on　Quenthus；　his　life　may　have　been　different。
And　if　it　had　been　different；　and　we　had　met；　we　would　have　been　the　greatest　of　friends。
WE　HAD　STAYED　on　Cinchare　for　three　months。　Too　long；　in　my　opinion；　but　there　had　been　no　way　to　speed　the　preparatory　work。
We　celebrated　Candlemas　in　the　little　chapel　of　the　Ministorum　off　the　plaza；　lighting　candles　to　welcome　the　new　Imperial　year；　and
lighting　others　to　commemorate　the　town's　dead。　Aemos　and　Bequin　read　the　lessons；　for　all　of　the　Ecclesiarchs　were　amongst　the
remembered　dead。　Bure　and　his　tech…adepts　worshipped　with　us；　and　he　hovered　to　the　choir　rail　under　the　great　statue　of　the　God…
Emperor　to　lead　us　in　the　devotional　prayers。
I　was　fretful　and　edgy。　Partly　because　I　was　anxious　to　get　underway　now；　but　also　because　of　the　lore　in　my　head；　the　mysteries　to
which　Glaw　had　introduced　me。　So　much；　so　much　of　it　dark。　I　knew　I　was　a　changed　man；　and　that　change　was　permanent。
But　I　considered　that　a　year　before　…　just　a　year；　though　it　felt　much；　much　longer　…　I　had　been　a　helpless　prisoner　in　the　bleak
Carnificina；　and　Candlemas　had　passed　me　by　before　I　had　realised　it。
I　was　not　that　man　any　more　either；　and　that　change　had　been　nothing　to　do　with　Pontius　Glaw's　whispered　secrets。　For　all　the
darkness　swilling　in　my　head；　it　was　better　to　be　here；　strong　and　ready；　fortified；　in　the　company　of　friends　and　allies。
There　was　no　choirmaster　to　play　the　organ；　so　Medea　had　brought　her　father's　Glavian　lyre；　and　played　the　Holy　Triumph　of　the
Golden　Throne　so　that　we　could　all　sing。
THAT　NIGHT；　WE　feasted　in　the　refectory　of　the　Cult　Mechanicus　to　honour　the　start　of　341。M41。　Maxilla；　who　remained　on　duty
aboard　the　Essene；　sent　a　banquet　to　us　on　a　shuttle；　along　with　servitors　to　wait　upon　us。　One　of　them　reported　that　a　vast　storm　of
meteors　had　swarmed　across　the　sky　at　the　stroke　of　midnight；　lighting　the　night　side　of　Cinchare　with　their　fires。　Nayl　growled　that
this　was　a　bad　omen；　but　Inshabel　insisted　it　was　a　good　one。
I　suppose　it　rather　depended　which　part　of　the　vast　spread　of　the　Imperium　you　came　from。
THE　OTHERS　SPENT　the　next　two　days　packing　up　and　making　ready　to　leave；　but　Aemos　and　I　attended　the　dedication　ceremony　in　the
cimeliarch　of　the　Adeptus　Mechanicus　annex。
Machine　Cult　servitors　chanted　in　a　modulated　binary　code　and　beat　upon　kettledrums。　Magos　Bure　was　clad　in　his　orange　robes　with
a　white　stole　over　his　shoulders。
He　blessed　the　weapons　he　had　made　in　turn；　taking　one　then　the　other　from　the　two　tech…adepts　who　stood　in　attendance。
Barbarisater；　the　pentagrammatic　power　sword；　lifted　to　the　light　that　speared　down　from　the　eyes　of　the　Machine　God's　altar。　Then
the　runestaff；　Bure's　masterpiece。
He　had　fashioned　a　cap…piece　for　the　rune…etched　steel　pole　out　of　elec…trum　in　the　form　of　a　sun…flare　corona。　In　the　centre　of　it　was　a
human　skull；　marked　with　the　thirteenth　sign　of　castigation。　The　skull　was　the　lodestone；　carved　by　Bure　himself　into　a　perfect
facsimile　of　my　own　skull；　as　measured　by　radiative　scans。　He　had　tried　and　rejected　over　twenty　different　tele…empathic　crystals
before　finding　one　he　trusted　would　be　up　to　the　task。
'It's　beautiful；'　I　said；　taking　it　from　him。　'What　crystal　did　you　use　in　the　end？'
'What　else？'　he　said。　'I　carved　that　copy　of　your　skull　from　the　Lith　itself！'
HE　CAME　TO　see　us　off；　to　the　docking　barn　where　the　gun…cutter　had　sat　for　so　long。　Nayl　and　Fischig　were　carrying　the　last　things
aboard。　We　had　broken　astropathic　silence　at　last　the　night　before；　and　informed　Imperial　Allied；　Ortog　Promethium；　the　Adeptus
Mechanicus　and　the　Imperial　authorities　of　the　fate　that　had　befallen　Cinchare　minehead。　We　would　be　long　gone　before　any　of　them
arrived　to　begin　recovery　work。
Bure　said　farewell　to　Aemos；　who　shuffled　away　to　the　cutter。
'There's　nothing　adequate　I　can　say；'　I　told　the　magos。
'Nor　I　to　you；　Eisenhorn。　What　of…　the　inmate？'
'I'd　like　you　to　do　what　I　asked　you。　Give　him　mobility　at　least。　But　nothing　more。　He　must　remain　a　prisoner；　now　and　always。'
'Very　well。　I　expect　to　hear　all　about　your　victory；　Eisenhorn。　I　will　be　waiting。'
'May　the　Holy　Machine　God　and　the　Emperor　himself　protect　your　systems；　Geard。'
'Thank　you；'　he　said。　Then　he　added　something　that　quite　took　me　aback；　given　his　total　belief　and　reliance　on　technology。
'Good　luck。'
I　walked　to　the　cutter。　He　watched　me　for　a　moment；　then　disappeared；　closing　the　inner　hatch　after　him。
That　was　the　last　time　I　ever　saw　him。
FROM　CINCHARE；　THE　Essene　ran　back；　fast　and　impatient；　into　the　great　territories　of　the　Segmentum　Obscurus；　a　three　month　voyage
that　we　broke　twice。

At　Ymshalus；　we　stopped　to　transmit　the　prepared　communiques；　all　twenty　of　them。　Inshabel　and　Fischig　left　us　too　at　that　point；
Inshabel　to　secure　passage　to　Elvara　Cardinal　to　begin　his　work　there；　and　Fischig　for　the　long　haul　back　to　Cadia。　It　would　be　months；
if　not　years；　before　we　saw　them　again。　That　was　a　sorrowful　farewell。
At　Palobara；　that　crossroads　on　the　border；　busy　with　trading　vessels　and　obscura　caravans　guarded　by　mercenary　gunships；　we
stopped　and　transmitted　the　carta　declaration。　There　was　no　going　back　now。　Here；　I　parted　company　os；
all　of　whom　were　heading　back　to　the　Helican　subsector　by　a　variety　of　means。　Bequin's　goal　was　Messina；　and　Aemos；　with　Nayl　to
watch　over　him；　was　bound　for　Gudrun。　Another　hard　parting。
THE　ESSENE　CONTINUED　on　for　Orbul　Infanta。　This　was　now　a　lonely；　waiting　time。　Each　night；　the　remains　of　my　company　gathered
in　Maxilla's　dining　room　and　ate　together：　myself；　Medea；　Maxilla　and　Ungish。　Ungish　was　no　company；　and　even　Medea　and　Maxilla
had　lost　their　sparkle。　They　missed　the　others；　and　I　think　they　knew　how　dark　and　tough　the　time　ahead　would　be。
I　spent　my　days　reading　in　the　cabin　library　of　the　cutter；　or　playing　regicide　with　Medea。　I　practised　with　Barbarisater　in　the　hold
spaces；　slowly　mastering　the　tricks　of　its　weight　and　balance。　I　would　never　match　a　Carthae…born　master；　but　I　had　always　been　good
enough　with　a　sword。　Barbarisater　was　an　extraordinary　piece。　I　came　to　know　it　and　it　came　to　know　me。　Within　a　week；　it　was
responding　to　my　will；　channelling　it　so　hard　that　the　rune　marks　glowed　with　manifesting　psychic　power。　It　had　a　will　of　its　own；　and
once　it　was　in　my　hands；　ready；　swinging；　it　was　difficult　to　stop　it　pulling　and　slicing　where　it　pleased。　It　hungered　for　blood…　or　if
not　blood；　then　at　least　the　joy　of　battle。　On　two　separate　occasions；　Medea　came　into　the　hold　to　see　if　I　was　bored　enough　for　another
round　of　regicide；　and　I　had　to　restrain　the　steel　from　lunging　at　her。
Its　sheer　length　was　a　problem：　I　had　never　used　a　blade　so　long。　I　worried　that　I　would　do　my　own　extremities　harm。　But　practice
gave　me　the　gift　of　it：　long…armed；　flowing　moves；　sweeping　strokes；　a　tight　field　of　severing。　Within　a　fortnight；　I　had　mastered　the
knack　of　spinning　it　over　in　my　hand；　my　open　palm　and　the　pommel　circling　around　each　other　like　the　discs　of　a　gyroscope。　I　was
proud　of　that　move。　I　think　Barbarisater　taught　it　to　me。
I　worked　with　the　rune　staff　too；　to　get　used　to　its　feel　and　balance。　Though　my　aim　was　appalling；　especially　over　distances　further
than　three　or　four　metres；　I　became　able　to　channel　my　will；　through　my　hands；　into　its　haft　and　then　project　it　from　the　crystal　skull　in
the　form　of　electrical　bolts　that　dented　deck　plating。
There　was；　of　course；　no　way　I　could　test　it　for　its　primary　use。
WE　REACHED　THE　shrine　world　of　Orbul　Infanta　at　the　end　of　the　twelfth　week。　I　had　three　tasks　to　perform　here；　and　the　first　was　the
consecration　of　the　sword　and　the　staff。
With　Ungish　and　Medea；　I　travelled　down　to　the　surface　in　one　of　the　Essene's　unremarkable　little　launches　rather　than　the　gun…cutter。
We　went　to　Ezropolis；　one　of　Orbul　Infanta's　ten　thousand　shrine　cities；　in　the　baking　heartland　of　the　western　continent。
Orbul　Infanta　is　an　Ecclesiarchy　governed　world；　famously　blessed　with　a　myriad　shrines；　each　one　dedicated　to　a　different　Imperial
saint；　and　each　one　the　heart　of　a　city　state。　The　Ecclesiarch　chose　it　as　a　shrine　world　because　it　lay　on　a　direct　line　between　Terra　and
Avignor。　The　most　popular　and　thriving　shrine　cities　lay　on　the　coast　of　the　eastern　continent；　and　billions　of　the　faithful　flocked　to
them　each　year。　Ezropolis　was　far　away　from　such　bustle。
Saint　Ezra；　who　had　been　martyred　in　670。M40；　was　the　patron　saint　of　undertaking　and　setting　forth；　which　I　took　to　be　appropriate。
His　city　was　a　shimmering　growth　of　steel；　glass　and　stone　rising　from　the　sun…cooked　plains　of　the　mid…west。　According　to　the　guide
slates；　all　water　was　pumped　in　from　the　western　coast　along　vast　pipelines　two　thousand　kilometres　long。
We　made　planetfall　at　Ezra　Plain；　the　principal　landing　facility；　and　joined　the　queues　of　pilgrims　climbing　the　looping　stairs　into　the
citadel。　Most　were　clad　in　yellow；　the　saint's　colour；　or　had　tags　or　swathes　of　yellow　cloth　adorning　them。　All　carried　lit　candles　or　oil
lamps；　despite　the　unforgiving　light。　Ezra　had　promised　to　light　a　flame　in　the　darkness　to　mark　all　those　setting　forth；　and
consequently　his　hagial　colour　was　flame　yellow。
We　had　done　the　necessary　research。　I　wore　a　suit　of　black　linen　with　a　sash　of　yellow　silk　and　carried　a　burning　votive　candle。　Ungish
was　draped　in　a　pale　yellow　robe　the　colour　of　the　sun　at　dawn；　and　clutched　a　plaster　figurine　of　the　saint。　Medea　wore　a　dark　red
bodyglove　under　a　tabard　on　which　bol。　She　pushed　the　small　grav…cart　on　which　Barbarisater　and　the
staff　lay；　wrapped　in　yellow　velvet。　It　was　common　for　pilgrims　to　cart　their　worldly　goods　to　the　shrine　of　Ezra；　in　order　that　they
might　be　blessed　before　any　kind　of　undertaking　or　setting　forth　could　properly　get　underway。　We　blended　easily　with　the　teaming
lines　of　sweating；　anxious　devotees。
At　the　top　of　the　stairs；　we　entered　the　blessed　cool　of　the　streets；　where　the　shadows　of　the　buildings　fell　across　us。　It　was　nearly
midday；　and　Ecclesiarchy　choirs　were　singing　from　the　platforms　that　topped　the　high；　slender　towers。　Bells　were　chiming；　and　yellow
sapfinches　were　being　released　by　the　thousand　from　basket　cages　in　the　three　city　squares。　The　thrumming　ochre　clouds　of　birds
swirled　up　above　us；　around　us；　singing　in　bewilderment。　They　were　brought　in　each　day；　a　million　at　a　time；　from　gene…farm　aviaries
on　the　coast；　where　they　were　bred　in　industrial　quantities。　They　were　not　native　to　this　part　of　Orbul　Infanta；　and　would　perish　within
hours　of　release　into　the　parched　desert。　It　was　reported　that　the　plains　around　Ezropolis　were　ankle…deep　with　the　residue　of　their
white　bones　and　bright　feathers。
But　still；　they　were　the　symbol　of　undertaking　and　setting　forth；　and　so　they　were　set　loose　by　the　million　to　certain　death　every
midday。　There　is　a　terrible　irony　to　this　which　I　have　often　thought　of　bringing　to　the　attention　of　the　Ecclesiarchy。　
WE　WENT　TO　the　Cathedral　of　Saint　Ezra　Outlooking；　a　significant　temple　on　the　western　side　of　the　city。　On　every　eave　and　wall　top
we　passed；　sapfinches　perched　and　twittered　with　what　seemed　to　me　to　be　indignation。

The　cathedral　itself　was　admittedly　splendid；　a　Low　Gothic　minster　raised　in　the　last　thirty　years　and　paid　for　by　subscriptions
generated　by　the　city　fathers　and　priesthood。　Every　visitor　who　entered　the　city　walls　was　obliged　to　deposit　two　high　denomination
coins　into　the　take　boxes　at　either　side　of　the　head　of　the　approach　stairs。　A　yellow　robed　adept　of　the　priesthood　was　there　to　see　it
was　done。　The　box　on　the　left　was　the　collection　for　the　maintenance　and　construction　of　the　city　temples。　The　one　on　the　right　was　the
sapfinch　fund。
We　went　inside　Saint　Ezra　Outlooking；　into　the　cool　of　the　marble　nave　where　the　faithful　were　bent　in　prayer　and　the　hard　sunlight
made　coloured　patterns　on　everything　as　it　slanted　through　the　huge；　stained　glass　windows。　The　cool　air　was　sweetened　by　the　smoke
of　sweetwood　burners；　and　livened　by　the　jaunty　singing　from　the　cantoria。
I　left　Medea　and　Ungish　in　the　arched　doorway　beside　a　tomb　on　which　lay　the　graven　image　of　a　Space　Marine　of　the　Raven　Guard
Chapter；　his　hands　arranged　so　as　to　indicate　which　holy　crusade　he　had　perished　in。
I　found　the　provost　of　the　cathedral；　and　explained　to　him　what　I　wanted。　He　looked　at　me　blankly；　fidgeting　with　his　yellow　robes；　but
I　soon　made　him　understand　by　depositing　six　large　coins　into　his　alms　chest；　and　another　two　into　his　hand。
He　ushered　me　into　a　baptism　chancel；　and　I　beckoned　my　colleagues　to　follow。　Once　all　of　us　were　inside；　he　drew　shut　the　curtains
and　opened　his　breviary。　As　he　began　the　rite；　Medea　unwrapped　the　devices　and　laid　them　on　the　edge　of　the　benitier。　The　provost
mumbled　on　and；　keeping　his　eyes　fixed　on　the　open　book　so　he　wouldn't　lose　his　place；　raised　and　unscrewed　a　flask　of　chrism　with
which　he　anointed　both　the　staff　and　the　sword。
'In　blessing　and　consecrating　these　items；　I　worship　the　Emperor　who　is　my　god；　and　charge　those　who　bring　these　items　forth　that
they　do　so　without　taint　of　concupiscence。　'Do　you　make　that　pledge？'
I　realised　he　was　looking　at　me。　I　raised　my　head　from　the　kneeling　bow　I　had　adopted。　Concupiscence。　A　desire　for　the　forbidden。
Did　I　dare　make　that　vow；　knowing　what　I　knew？
'Well？'
'I　am　without　taint；　puritus；'　I　replied。
He　nodded　and　continued　with　the　consecration。
THE　FIRST　PART　of　my　business　was　done。　We　went　out　into　the　courtyard　in　front　of　the　cathedral。
'Take　these　back　to　the　launch　and　stow　them　safely；'　I　told　Medea；　indicating　the　swaddled　weapons　on　the　cart。
'What's　concupiscence？'　she　asked。
'Don't　worry　about　it；'　I　said。
'Did　you　just　lie；　Gregor？'
'Shut　up　and　go　on　with　you。'
Medea　wheeled　the　cart　away　through　the　pilgrim　crowds。
'She's　a　sharp　girl；　heretic；'　Ungish　whispered。
'Actually；　you　can　shut　up　too；'　I　said。
'I　damn　well　won't；'　she　snapped。　'This　is　it。'
'What？　〃It〃？'
'In　my　dreams；　I　saw　you　foreswear　in　front　of　an　Imperial　altar。　I　saw　it　happen；　and　my　death　followed。'
I　watched　the　sapfinches　spiralling　in　the　air　above　the　yard。
'Deja　vu。'
'I　know　deja　vu　from　a　dream；'　said　Ungish　sourly。　'I　know　deja　vu　from　my　backside。'
'The　God…Emperor　watches　over　us；'　I　reassured　her。
'Yes；　I　know　he　does；'　she　said。　'I　just　think　he　doesn't　like　what　he　sees。'
WE　WAITED　UNTIL　evening　in　the　yard；　buying　hot　loaves；　wraps　of　diced　salad　and　treacly　black　caffeine　from　street　vendors。　Ungish
didn't　eat　much。　Long　shadows　fell　across　the　yard　in　the　late　afternoon　light。　I　voxed　Medea。　She　was　safely　back　aboard　the　launch；
waiting　for　us。
I　was　waiting　to　complete　the　second　of　my　tasks。　This　was　the　appointed　day；　and　the　appointed　hour　was　fast　approaching。　This
would　be　the　first　test　of　the　twenty　communiques　I　had　sent　out。　One　had　been　to　Inquisitor　Gladus；　a　man　I　admired；　and　had　worked
with　effectively　thirty　years　before　during　the　P'glao　Conspiracy。　Orbul　Infanta　was　within　his　canon。　I　had　written　to　him；　laying　out
my　case　and　asking　for　his　support。　Asking　him　to　meet　me　here；　at　this　place；　at　this　hour。
It　was；　like　all　the　messages；　a　matter　of　trust。　I　had　only　written　to　men　or　women　I　felt　were　beyond　reproach；　and　who；　no　matter
what　they　thought　of　me；　might　do　me　the　grace　of　meeting　with　me　to　discuss　the　matter　of　Quixos。　If　they　rejected　me　or　my　intent；
that　was　fine。　I　didn't　expect　any　of　them　to　turn　me　in　or　attempt　to　capture　me。
We　waited。　I　was　impatient；　edgy…　edgy　still　with　the　dark　mysteries　Pontius　Glaw　had　planted　in　my　head。　I　hadn't　slept　well　in　four
months。　My　temper　was　short。
I　expected　Gladus　to　come；　or　at　least　send　some　kind　of　message。　He　might　be　detained　or　delayed；　or　caught　up　in　his　own　noble
business。　But　I　didn't　think　he'd　ignore　me。　I　searched　the　evening　crowds　for　some　trace　of　his　long…haired；　bearded　form；　his　grey
robes；　his　barb…capped　staff。
'HE'S　NOT　COMING；'　said　Ungish。
'Oh；　give　it　a　rest。'

'Please；　inquisitor；　I　want　to　go。　My　dream…'
'Why　don't　you　trust　me；　Ungish？　I　will　protect　you；'　I　said。　I　opened　my　black　linen　coat　so'she　could　see　the　laspistol　holstered　under
my　left　arm。
'Why？'