The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第4部分

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almighty　hand　up。'
Politics　left　me　cold；　and　I　seldom　empathised　with　political　ambitions。　I　only　studied　the　subject　because　my　duties　often　demanded　a
detailed　working　knowledge。　Imperial　Lord　Commander　Helican；　which　is　to　say　Jeromya　Faurlitz　IV　of　the　noble　Imperial　family
Faurlitz；　was　the　supreme　secular　authority　in　the　Helican　subsector；　for　which　reason　he　styled　himself　with　the　subsector's　name　in
his　appellation。　On　paper；　even　the　cardinals　of　the　Ministorium；　the　Grandmaster　of　the　Inquisition；　the　senior　luminaries　of　the
Administratum　and　the　Lords　Militant　had　to　answer　to　him；　though　as　with　all　things　in　Imperial　society；　it　was　never　as　easy　as　that。
Church；　state　and　military；　woven　together　as　one；　yet　constantly　inimical。　In　favouring　Warmaster　Honorius　with　the　Bestowment；
Lord　Helican　was　throwing　his　lot　in　with　the　military　…　an　overt　signal　to　the　other　organs　of　government　…　and　clearly　expected　the
Warmaster　to　return　the　favour　when　he　rose　to　levels　of　government　beyond　those　of　a　single　subsector。　It　was　a　dangerous　game；　and
rare　for　so　senior　an　official　to　play　openly　for　such　an　advantage；　though　the　battle…glory　that　surrounded　Honorius　made　a　perfect
excuse。

And　that　made　it　a　dangerous　time。　Somebody　would　want　to　redress　that　balance。　My　money　would　be　on　the　Ecclesiarchy；　though
it's　fair　to　say　I'm　biased。　However；　history　has　shown　the　Church　to　be　chronically　intolerant　of　losing　power　to　the　military　or　the
state。　I　said　as　much。
'There　are　many　other　elements；'　Aemos　chuckled；　accepting　a　refill　of　dessert　wine。　'The　Faurlitz　line　is　weak　and　lacks　both　support
in　the　Adeptus　Terra　and　a　ready　ear　at　the　Senatorum　Imperialis　and　the　courts　of　the　Golden　Throne。　Two　powerful　families；　the　De
Vensii　and　the　Fulvatorae；　are　seeking　to　make　gains　against　the　Faurlitz；　and　would　take　this　as　an　open　show　of　defiance。　Then
there's　the　House　of　Eirswald；　who　see　their　own　famous　son；　Lord　Militant　Strefon；　as　the　only　viable　replacement　for　Hiju。　And　the
Augustyn　dynasty；　let's　not　forget；　who　were　ousted　from　power　when　High　Lord　of　Terra　Giann　Augustyn　died　in　office　forty　years
ago。　They've　been　trying　to　get　back　in　with　feverish　determination　these　last　few　years；　pushing　their　candidate；　Lord　Commander
Cosimo；　with　almost　unseemly　impudence。　If　Nayl's　right　and　the　Bestowment　makes　Honorius　a　certainty　as　Hiju's　successor；　he'd
become　a　direct　competitor　with　Cosimo　for　the　High　Lord's　vacant　position。'
Down　the　table；　Bequin　yawned　and　caught　my　eye。
'Cosimo's　never　going　to　make　it；'　Psullus　put　in　candidly。　'His　house　is　far　too　unpopular　with　the　Adeptus　Mechanicus；　and　without
their　consent；　however　tacit；　no　one　ever　makes　it　to　High　Lord　rank。　Besides；　the　Ministorum　would　block　it。　Giann　Augustyn　made
no　friends　there　with　his　reforms。　They　say　it　was　a　Callidus　of　the　Officio　Assassinorum；　under　orders　from　the　Ecclesiarcy；　that　took
old　Giann　off；　not　a　stroke　at　all。'
'Careful　what　you　say；　old　friend；　or　they'll　be　sending　one　after　you；'　Ravenor　said。　Psullus　held　up　his　bony　hands　in　a　dismissive
gesture　as　laughter　rippled　around　the　table。
'It　is；　still；　most　perturbatory；'　Aemos　said。　'This　Bestowment　could　lead　to　a　House　　all　the　obvious　opponents；
Lord　Helican　and　the　Warmaster　could　find　themselves　tasked　by　Imperial　families　who　are　thus　far　neutral。　There　are　many　who　are
quite　comfortable　with　their　situation；　and　who　would　strike　with　astonishing　ruthlessness　simply　to　avoid　being　drawn　into　an　open
bloody　clash。'
There　was　silence　for　a　moment。
'Psullus；'　said　Ravenor　quickly；　changing　the　subject　with　a　diplomat's　deftness；　'I　have　a　number　of　works　for　you　that　I　collected　on
Lethe；　including　a　palimpsest　of　the　Analecta　Phaenomena…'
Psullus　engaged　the　young　interrogator　eagerly。　Aemos；　von　Baigg　and　Nayl　continued　to　debate　the　Imperial　intrigue。　Bequin　and
Surskova　made　their　goodnights　and　withdrew。　I　took　my　crystal　balloon　of　amasec　to　the　glass　wall　and　looked　out　into　the　oceanic
depths。　Kircher　joined　me　after　a　moment。　He　smoothed　the　front　of　his　navy　blue　jacket　and　put　on　his　black　gloves　before　speaking。
'We　had　intruders　last　month；'　he　said　quietly。
I　looked　round　at　him。　'When？'
'Three　times；　in　fact；'　he　said；　'though　I　didn't　realise　that　until　the　third　occasion。　During　night　cycle　about　six　weeks　ago；　I　had　what
seemed　to　be　a　persistent　fault　on　the　alarms　covering　the　seawall　vents。　There　was　no　further　sign；　and　the　servitors　replaced　that
section　of　the　system。　Then　again；　a　week　later；　on　the　service　entrance　to　the　food　stores；　and　the　outer　doors　of　the　Distaff　annex；
both　on　the　same　night。　I　suspected　a　system　corruption；　and　planned　an　overhaul　of　the　entire　alarm　net。　The　following　week；　I　found
the　security　code　on　the　outer　locks　of　the　main　door　had　been　defaulted　to　zero。　Someone　had　been　in　and　left　again。　I　scoured　the
building　and　found　vox…thieves　buried　in　the　walls　of　six　rooms；　including　your　inner　chambers；　and　discreet　farcoders　wired　into
three　communication　junction　nodes；　spliced　to　vox　and　pict　lines。　Someone　had　also　tried；　and　failed；　to　force　their　way　into　your
void…vault；　but　they　didn't　know　the　shield　codes。'
'And　there　were　no　traces？'
'No　prints；　no　microspores；　no　follicles。　I　washed　the　air　itself　through　the　particle　scrubber。　The　in…house　pict　recorders　show
nothing…　except　a　beautifully　disguised　time…jump　of　thirty…four　seconds。　The　astropaths　sensed　nothing。　In　one　place；　the　intruder
must　have　walked　across　four　metres　of　under…floor　pressure　pads　without　setting　them　off。　In　retrospect；　I　realised　the　two　prior
incidents；　far　from　being　system　faults；　were　experimental　tests　to　probe；　gauge　and　estimate　our　security　net。　Trial　runs　before　the
actual　intrusion。　For　that；　they　used　a　code　scrambler　on　the　main　doors。　If　they'd　actually　been　able　to　crack　it；　they　could　have　reset
the　code　and　I'd　never　have　known　they'd　been　in。'
'You've　double…checked　everything？　No　more　bugs　to　be　found？'
He　shook　his　head。　'Lord；　I　can　only　apologise　for—'
I　held　tip　a　hand。　'No　need；　Kircher。　You've　done　your　job。　Show　me　what　they　left。'
KIRCHER　UNROLLED　A　red　felt　cloth　across　the　top　of　a　table　in　the　quiet　of　the　inner　library。　He　was　nervous；　and　beads　of　sweat　were
trickling　down　from　his　crest…like　shock　of　white　hair。
I　hadn't　wanted　to　alarm　anyone；　so　I　had　asked　only　Ravenor　and　Aemos　to　join　us。　The　room　smelled　of　teak　from　the　shelves；　must
from　the　books；　and　ozone　from　the　suspension　fields　sustaining　especially　frail　manuscripts。
The　felt　was　laid　out。　On　it　lay　nine　tiny　devices；　six　vox…thieves　and　three　farcoders；　each　one　set　in　a　pearl　of　solid　plastic。
'Once　I'd　stripped　them　out；　I　sealed　them　in　inert　gel　to　make　sure　they　were　dead。　None　were　booby　trapped。'
Gideon　Ravenor　stepped　in　and　picked　up　one　of　the　sealed　vox…thieves；　holding　it　up　to　the　light。
'Imperial；'　he　said。　'Unmarked；　but　Imperial。　Very　high　grade　and　advanced。'
'I　thought　so　too；'　said　Kircher。
'Military？　Secular？'　I　asked。
Ravenor　shrugged。　'We　could　source　them　to　likely　manufacturers；　but　they　likely　supply　all　arms　of　the　Imperium。'

Aemos's　augmetic　optics　clicked　and　turned　as　he　peered　down　at　the　objects　on　the　cloth。　'The　farcoders；'　he　began；　'similarly
advanced。　It　takes　singular　skill　to　patch　one　of　these　successfully　into　a　comm…node。'
'It　takes　singular　skill　to　break　in　like　they　did；'　I　countered。
'They　have　no　maker　markings；　but　they're　clearly　refined　models　from　the　Amplox　series。　Much　more　refined　than　the　heavy…duty
units　the　military　use。　It's　just　conjecture；　but　I'd　say　this　was　beyond　the　Ministorum　too。　They're　notoriously　behind　when　it　comes　to
tech　advancements。'
'Who　then？'　I　asked。
'The　Adeptus　Mechanicus？'　he　ventured。　I　scowled。
He　shrugged；　smiling。　'Or　at　least　a　body　with　the　power　and　influence　to　secure　such　advanced　devices　from　the　Adeptus
Mechanicus。'
'Like？'
'The　Officio　Assassinorum？'
'Who　would　break　in　to　kill；　not　listen。'
'Noted。　Then　a　powerful　Imperial　house；　one　with　clout　in　the　Senatorum　Imperialis。'
'Possible…'　I　admitted。
'Or…'　he　said。
'Or？'
'Or　the　one　Imperial　institution　that　regularly　employs　such　devices　and　has　the　prestige　and　determination　to　make　sure　it　is　using　the
best　available　equipment。'
'That　being？'
Aemos　looked　at　me　as　if　I　was　stupid。
'The　Inquisition；　of　course。'
I　SLEPT　BADLY；　fitfully。　Three　hours　before　the　end　of　the　night　cycle；　I　sat　up　in　my　bed；　suddenly；　coldly　awake。
Dressed　only　in　the　sheet　I　had　wrapped　around　me；　I　stalked　out　into　the　hall；　my　grip　firm　on　the　matt…grey　snub　pistol　that　lived　in　a
holster　secured　behind　my　headboard。
Dim　blue　light　filtered　through　the　hallway；　softening　the　edges　of　everything。　I　crept　forward。
I　was　not　mistaken。　Someone　was　moving　about　down　below；　in　the　lower　foyer。
I　edged　down　the　stairs；　gun　braced；　willing　my　eyes　to　accustomise　to　the　gloom。
I　thought　to　hit　a　vox　and　alert　Kircher　and　his　staff；　but　if　someone　was　inside；　skillful　enough　to　get　past　the　alarms；　then　I　wanted　to
capture　him；　not　scare　him　off　with　a　full　blown　alert。　In　the　few　hours　since　I　had　arrived　back　at　the　Ocean　House；　a　nasty　taste　of
treachery　had　seeped　into　my　world。　It　might　be　largely　paranoia；　but　I　wanted　an　end　to　it。
A　beam　of　white　light　stabbed　across　the　foyer　floor　from　the　half　open　kitchen　doors。　I　heard　movement　again。
I　sidled　to　the　doorframe；　checked　the　safety　was　off；　and　slid；　weapon　first；　through　the　gap　in　the　doors。
The　outer　kitchen；　a　realm　of　marble…topped　workbays　and　scrubbed　aluminium　ranges；　was　empty。　Metal　pots　and　utensils　hung
silently　from　ceiling　racks。　There　was　a　smell　of　garlic　and　cooked　herbs　in　the　still　air。　The　light　was　on　in　the　inner　pantry；　near　the
cold　store；　and　the　illuminated　backwash　filled　the　room。
Two　steps；　three；　four。　The　kitchen's　stone　floor　was　numbingly　cold　under　my　bare　feet。　I　reached　the　door　to　the　inner　pantry。　There
was　movement　inside。
I　kicked　the　door　open　and　leapt　inside；　aiming　the　compact　sidearm。
Medea　Betancore；　clad　only　in　a　long；　ex…military　undershirt；　roared　out　in　surprise　and　dropped　the　tray　of　leftover　ketelfish　she　had
been　gorging　on。　The　tray　clattered　on　the　tiled　floor　in　front　of　the　open　larder。
'Great　gods　alive；　Eisenhorn！'　she　wailed　in　outrage；　jumping　up　and　down　on　the　spot。　'Don't　do　that！'
I　was　angry。　I　didn't　immediately　lower　my　aim。　'What　are　you　doing？'
'Eating？　Hello？'　She　sneered　at　me。　'Feel　like　I've　been　asleep　for　a　week。　I'm　famished。'
I　began　to　lower　the　gun。　A　sense　of　embarrassment　began　to　filter　into　my　wired　state。
'I'm　sorry。　Sorry。　You　should…　maybe…　get　dressed　before　you　come　down　to　raid　the　larder。'　It　sounded　stupid　even　as　I　said　it。　I
didn't　realise　how　stupid　until　a　moment　later。　I　was　too　painfully　aware　of　her　long；　dark　legs　and　the　way　the　singlet　top　was　curved
around　the　proud　swell　of　her　bust。
'You　should　take　your　own　advice…　Gregor；'　she　said；　raising　one　eyebrow。
I　looked　down。　I　had　lost　the　sheet　kicking　open　the　door。　I　was　what　Midas　Betancore　used　to　call　''very　naked''。
Except；　of　course；　for　the　loaded　gun。
'Damn。　My　apologies。'　I　turned　to　scrabble　for　the　fallen　sheet。
'Don't　stand　on　my　account；'　she　sniggered。
I　froze；　stooped。　The　muzzle　of　a　Tronsvasse　parabellum　was　pointing　directly　at　my　head　from　the　darkness　behind　me。
It　lowered。　Harlon　Nayl　looked　me　up　and　down　for　a　moment　in　frank　dismay　and　then　raised　a　warning　finger　to　his　lips。　He　was
fully　clothed；　damn　him。
I　retrieved　my　sheet。
'What？'　I　hissed。

'Someone's　in。　I　can　feel　it；'　he　whispered。　'The　noise　you　two　were　making；　I　thought　it　was　the　intruder。　Didn't　know　you　were　so
keen　on　Medea。'
'Shut　up。'
The　two　of　us　fanned　out　back　through　the　outer　kitchen。　Nayl　pulled　up　the　hood　of　his　vulcanised　black　bodyglove　to　cover　his　pale；
shaved　head。　He　was　a　big　man；　a　head　taller　than　me；　but　he　melted　away　into　the　darkness。　I　watched　carefully　for　his　signals。
Nayl　waved　me　left　down　the　hall。　I　trusted　his　judgment　completely。　He　had　stalked　the　galaxy's　most　innovative　and　able　scum　for
three　decades。　If　there　were　intruders；　he'd　find　them。
I　entered　the　Ocean　House's　main　hall；　and　saw　the　front　entry　was　ajar。　The　code　display　on　the　main　lock　was　blinking　a　default　of
zeros。
I　swung　round　as　a　gun　roared　behind　me。　I　heard　Nayl　cry　out　and　sprinted　back　into　the　inner　foyer。　Nayl　was　on　the　floor；　grappling
with　an　unidentifiable　man。
'Get　up！　Get　up！　I'm　armed！'　I　shouted。
In　reply；　the　unknown　intruder　smacked　Nayl's　head　back　against　the　floor　so　hard　he　knocked　him　out；　and　then　threw　Nayl's　heavy
sidearm　at　me。
I　fired；　once；　and　blew　a　hole　in　the　wall。　The　spinning　gun　clipped　my　temple　and　knocked　me　over。
I　heard　a　series　of　fleshy　cracks　and　impacts；　a　guttural　gasp　and　then　Medea　Betancore's　voice　shouting；　'Lights　up！'
I　rose。　She　was　standing　astride　the　intruder；　one　hand　braced　in　a　fierce　fist；　the　other　pulling　down　her　undershirt　for　modesty。
'I　got　him；'　she　said；　glancing　round　at　me。
The　dazed　intruder　was　clad　in　black　from　head　to　foot。　I　wrenched　off　his　hood。
It　was　Titus　Endor。
'Gregor；'　he　lisped　through　a　bloody　mouth。　'You　did　say　you　were　home。'
FOUR
BETWEEN　FRIENDS。
AN　INTERVIEW　WITH　LORD　RORKEN。
THE　APOTROPAIC　CONGRESS。
'GRAIN　JOILIQ；　WITH　shaved　ice；　and　a　sliver　of　citrus。'
Seated　in　my　sanctum　chamber；　Endor　took　the　proffered　drink　and　grinned　at　me。　'You　remembered。'
'Many　were　the　nights；　in　those　fine　old　days。　Titus；　I've　mixed　your　drink　of　choice　too　many　times　to　count。'
'Hah！　I　know。　What　was　that　place；　the　one　off　Zansiple　Street？　Where　the　host　used　to　drink　the　profits？'
'The　Thirsty　Eagle；'　I　replied。　He　knew　full　well。　It　was　as　if　he　was　testing　me。
'The　Thirsty　Eagle；　that's　it！　Many　were　the　nights；　as　you　say。'
He　held　up　his　tumbler　of　clear；　iced　spirits。
'Raise　'em　and　sink　'em　and　let's　have　another！'
I　echoed　the　old　toast　and　clinked　my　lead…crystal　of　vintage　amasec　against　his　glass。
For　a　moment；　it　was　indeed　like　the　fine　old　days。　Both　of　us；　nineteen　years　old；　full　of　piss　and　promethium；　newly　promoted
interrogators　ready　to　take　on　the　whole　damn　galaxy；　students　of　old　Inquisitor　Hapshant。　Five　years　later；　almost　simultaneously；　we
would　both　be　elected　full　inquisitors；　and　our　individual　careers　would　begin　in　earnest。
Nineteen　years　old；　drunk　on　our　feet；　carousing　in　an　armpit　of　a　bar　off　Zansiple　Street　after　hours；　mocking　our　illustrious　mentor
and　bonding　for　life；　bonding　with　that　unquestioning　exuberance　that　seems　to　me　now　only　possible　in　youth。
It　was　like　regarding　a　different　life；　so　far　away；　almost　unrecoverable。　I　was　not　that　Gregor　Eisenhorn。　And　this　man；　with　his　long；
braided　grey　hair　and　scarred　face；　sitting　in　my　sanctum　dressed　in　a　body…heat　masking　stealth　suit；　was　not　that　Titus　Endor。
'You　could　have　called；'　I　began。
'I　did。'
I　shrugged。　'You　could　have　joined　us　for　dinner　tonight。　Jarat　excelled　herself　again。'
'I　know。　But　then…'　he　paused；　and　rattled　the　ice　around　in　his　drink　thoughtfully。　'But　then；　it　might　have　become　known　that
Inquisitor　Endor　had　visited　Inquisitor　Eisenhorn。'
'It　is　well　known　that　those　two　are　old　friends。　Why　would　that　have　been　a　problem？'
Endor　set　down　his　drink；　unpopped　the　fasteners　around　his　waistband　and　pulled　the　top　half　of　his　stealth　suit　up　over　his　head。　He
cast　the　garment　aside。
'Too　hot；'　he　remarked。　His　undershirt　was　dark　with　sweat。　The　jagged　saurapt　tooth　still　hung　around　his　neck　on　a　black　cord。　That
tooth。　Years　ago；　I'd　dug　it　out　of　his　leg　after　he　had　driven　the　beast　off。　Brontotaph；　twelve　decades　ago　and　more。　The　pair　of　us；
alongside　Hapshant；　in　the　mist…meres。
'I've　come　for　the　Novena；'　he　said。　'I　was　summoned　to　attend　by　Orsini's　staff；　like　you　I　imagine。　I　wanted　to　talk　to　you；　talk　to　you
as　far　off　the　record　as　was　possible。'

'So　you　broke　into　my　house？'
He　sighed　deeply；　finished　his　drink　and　walked　over　to　the　spirit　stand　in　the　corner　of　the　room　to　fix　another。
'You're　in　trouble；'　he　said。
'Really？　Why　is　that？'
He　looked　round；　peeling　strips　of　citrus　rind　off　a　fruit　with　a　paring　knife。
'I　don't　know。　But　there　are　rumblings。'
'There　are　always　rumblings。'
He　turned　to　face　me　fully。　His　eyes　were　suddenly　very　hard　and　bright。　'Take　this　seriously。'
'Very　well；　I　will。'
'You　know　what　the　rumour…mill　is　like。　Someone's　always　got　a　point　to　make；　a　score　to　settle。　There　were　stories。　I　dismissed　them
at　first。'
'Stories？'
He　sighed　again　and　returned　to　his　seat　with　his　refreshed　drink。
'There　is　talk　that　you　are…　unsound。'
'What　talk？'
'Damn　it；　Gregor！　I'm　not　one　of　your　interview　suspects！　I've　come　here　as　a　friend。'
'A　friend　who　broke　in　wearing　a　stealth　suit　and—'
'Shut　up　just　for　a　minute；　would　you？'
I　paused。
'Gladly。　If　you　cut　to　the　chase。'
'The　first　I　heard；　someone　was　bad…mouthing　you。'
'Who？'
'It　doesn't　matter。　I　waded　in　and　told　them　just　what　I　thought。　Then　I　heard　the　story　again。　Eisenhorn's　unsound。　He's　lost　the　plot。'
'Really？'
'Then　the　stories　changed。　It　was　no　longer　〃Eisenhorn's　unsound〃；　it　was；　〃The　people　who　matter　think　Eisenhorn's　unsound〃。　As　if
somehow　suspicion　of　you　had　become　official。'
'I've　heard　nothing；'　I　said；　sitting　back。
'Of　course　you　haven't。　Who'd　say　it　to　your　face　but　a　friend…　or　a　convening　judge　from　Internal　Prosecution？'
I　raised　my　eyebrows。　'You're　really　worried；　aren't　you；　Titus？'
'Damn　right。　Someone's　gunning　for　you。　Someone　whose　got　the　ear　of　the　upper　echelon。　Your　career　and　activities　are　under
scrutiny。'
'You　get　that　all　from　rumours？　Come　on；　Titus。　There　are　plenty　of　inquisitors　I　can　think　of　who'd　like　to　score　points　off　me。
Orsini's　a　closet　Monodominant；　and　the　puritan　idealists　are　forming　a　power　block　around　him。　They　are　radicals；　in　their　way。　You
know　that。　Us　Amalathians　are　too　louche　for　their　tastes。'
I　mentioned　before　how　I　hated　politics。　Nothing　is　more　fruitless　and　wearying　than　the　internal　politics　of　the　Inquisition　itself。　My
kind　is　fractured　internally　by　belief　factions　and　intellectual　sectarianism。　Endor　and　myself　count　ourselves　as　Amalathian
inquisitors；　which　is　to　say　we　hold　an　optimistic　outlook　and　work　to　sustain　the　integrity　of　the　Imperium；　believing　it　to　be
functioning　according　to　the　divine　Emperor's　scheme。　We　preserve　the　status　quo。　We　hunt　down　recidivist　elements：　heretics；　aliens；
psykers；　the　three　key　enemies　of　mankind　…　these　are　of　course　our　primary　targets　…　but　we　will　set　ourselves　against　anything　that
we　perceive　to　be　destabilising　Imperial　society；　up　to　and　including　factional　infighting　between　the　august　organs　of　our　culture。　It
has　always　struck　me　as　ironic　that　we　had　to　become　a　faction　in　order　to　fight　factionalism。
We　profess　to　be　puritans；　and　certainly　are　so　compared　to　the　extreme　radical　factions　of　the　Inquisition　such　as　the　Istvaanians　and
the　Recongrenators。
But　equally　alien　to　us　are　the　extreme　right　wing　of　the　puritan　factions；　the　Monodominants　and　the　Thorians；　some　of　whom　believe
even　the　use　of　trained　psykers　to　be　heretical。
If　I　was　in　trouble；　it　would　not　be　the　first　time　an　inqui