Fifteen Hours(科幻战争)-第16部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！


“But　then；　what　do　we　use？”　Larn　asked；　beginning　to　feel　foolish　as　he　realised　the　others　were
smirking　at　him。
“What　do　we　use；　he　says；”　Davir　said；　rolling　his　eyes　towards　the　heavens。　“My　broad　Vardan
backside。　I　swear；　new　fish；　just　when　I　was　starting　to　think　you　might　not　be　a　total　idiot　you　say
something　stupid　and　ruin　my　good　opinion　of　you。　If　it　helps　you　to　answer　your　question；　here　are
a　couple　of　hints。　One；　it　is　always　better　to　use　warm　water　when　repairing　trench　walls　in　frozen
conditions。　Two；　every　human　being　carries　a　ready　supply　of　the　stuff　in　question　about　their
person。”
“Warm？”　said　Larn；　a　new　understanding　slowly　dawning　on　him。　“You　mean　we…”
“Ah；　finally；　he　understands；”　Davir　said。　“Yes；　that’s　right；　new　fish。　And　guess　what？　It’s　your
turn　first。　Now；　get　up　there　and　start　pissing。　I　only　hope　to　hell　you　haven’t　got　a　nervous　bladder。
Emperor　knows；　I　have　better　things　to　do　with　my　time　than　standing　around　here　waiting　for　you
to　piss。”
“What　about　your　own　world　then；　new　fish？”　Bulaven　asked　afterwards；　as　they　sat　in　the　trench
waiting　for　the　newly　repaired　wall　to　freeze。　“You　asked　me　about　Vardan　before。　What　was　your
own　homeworld　like？”
Trying　to　think　of　an　answer；　for　a　moment　Larn　was　quiet。　He　thought　about　his　parents’　farm；
the　endless　golden　wheatfields　swaying　in　the　breeze。　He　thought　of　his　family；　all　of　them　sitting　at
their　places　around　the　table　in　the　kitchen　as　they　made　ready　for　their　evening　meal。　He　thought　of
that　last　beautiful　sunset；　the　sky　reddening　as　the　fiery　orb　of　the　descending　sun　fell　slowly
towards　the　horizon。　He　thought　of　the　world　he　had　left　behind；　and　of　all　the　things　he　would
never　see　again。
It　all　seems　so　long　ago　and　far　away　now；　he　thought。　As　though　all　those　things　were　a　million
kilometres　away　from　me。　The　sad　thing　is　they　are　even　farther　away　than　that。　Not　just　a　million；
but　millions　of　millions　of　kilometers；　however　far　it　was　we　came　in　that　troopship。
“I　don’t　know；”　he　said　at　last；　unable　to　find　the　words　to　say　what　he　really　felt。　“It　was
different　anyway。　A　lot　different　from　this　place。”
“Hnn。　I　think　our　new　fish　is　starting　to　feel　homesick；”　Davir　said。　“Not　that　I　blame　him；　you
understand；　any　place　would　seem　rosy　when　compared　to　this　damn　stinkhole。　You　find　me　in　a
strangely　magnanimous　mood　however；　new　fish；　so　let　me　give　you　a　piece　of　advice。　Whatever
wistful　longings　you　may　harbour　for　the　world　of　your　birth；　forget　them。　This　is　Broucheroc。
There　is　no　room　for　sentiment　here。　Here；　a　man　must　keep　himself　hard　and　tight　if　we　wants　to
live　to　see　tomorrow。”
“Is　that　it　then？”　Larn　asked。　“I　remember　Scholar　told　me　you　were　all　that　had　survived　from
over　six　thousand　men。　Is　that　how　you　did　it？　By　keeping　yourselves　hard　and　tight？”
“Ah；　now　there　you　have　touched　upon　an　interesting　question；　new　fish；”　Scholar　said。　“How
was　it　we　survived　when　so　many　of　our　fellows　didn’t？　You　can　be　sure　it　is　a　regular　topic　of
conversation　hereabouts。　Each　man　has　his　own　opinions。　Some　say　that　to　have　managed　to　live　so
long　in　Broucheroc　at　all；　we　must　have　been　born　survivors　to　begin　with。　Others　say　it　must　have
been　a　combination　of　fate　and　good　judgement；　or　perhaps　only　a　matter　of　poor　dumb　luck。　As　I
say；　everyone　has　their　own　opinions。　Their　own　theories。　For　myself；　I　am　not　sure　I　put　much　store
in　any　of　them。　We　survived　where　others　died。　That　is　all　I　can　tell　you。”
“I　always　thought　the　Emperor　must　have　had　a　hand　in　it；”　Bulaven　said；　his　expression　quiet
and　thoughtful。　“That　perhaps　He　was　saving　us　for　some　greater　purpose。　At　least；　that　is　what　I
used　to　believe。　After　so　many　years　in　Broucheroc；　a　man　begins　to　wonder。”
“The　Emperor？”　Davir　said；　throwing　his　hands　up　in　a　gesture　of　frustration。　“Really；　this　time
you　have　excelled　yourself；　Bulaven。　Of　all　the　lumpen…headed　stupidities　I　have　heard　pouring
81
from　your　mouth　over　the　last　seventeen　years　since　we　were　inducted　into　the　Guard；　that　is
without　a　doubt　the　most　idiotic。　The　Emperor！　Phah！　You　think　the　Emperor　has　nothing　better　to
do　than　watch　over　your　fat　backside　and　make　sure　it　comes　to　no　harm？　Wake　up；　you　big　pile　of
horse　manure。　The　Emperor　doesn’t　even　know　we　exist。　And；　if　he　does　know；　he　doesn’t　care。”
“No！”　Larn　shouted；　the　sudden　loudness　of　his　voice　in　the　trench　startling　them。　“You　are
wrong。　You　don’t　know　what　you’re　talking　about！”　Then；　seeing　the　others　looking　at　him　in
bewilderment；　Larn　began　to　speak　again。　More　quietly　now；　the　words　spilling　heartfelt　from　his
mouth。
“I　am　sorry；”　he　said。　“I　didn’t　mean　to　yell。　But　I　heard　what　you　were　saying　and…　You　are
wrong；　Davir。　The　Emperor　does　care。　He　watches　over　all　of　us。　I　know　he　does。　And　I　can　prove
it。　If　the　Emperor　wasn’t　good　and　kind　and　just；　he　never　would　have　saved　my　great…grandfather’s
life。”
And　then；　as　about　him　the　others　sat　quietly　in　the　trench　and　listened；　Larn　told　them　the　same
tale　his　father　had　told　him　in　the　farmhouse　cellar　on　his　last　night　at　home。
He　told　them　about　his　great…grandfather。　About　how　his　name　was　Augustus　and　he　had　been　born
on　a　world　called　Arcadus　V。　He　told　them　about　his　being　called　into　the　Guard；　and　how　sad　he
had　felt　at　leaving　his　homeworld。　He　told　them　about　the　thirty　years　of　service　and　his　greatgrandfather’s
failing　health。　He　told　them　about　the　lottery　and　the　man　who　had　given　up　his　ticket。
He　told　them　it　iracle；　perhaps。　But；　a　miracle　all　the　same。　Then；　when　he
had　told　them　all　these　things　word　for　word　the　same　as　his　father　had　told　him；　Larn　fell　quiet　and
waited　to　hear　their　reaction。
“And　that　is　it？”　Davir　said；　the　first　to　speak　after　what　felt　to　Larn　like　an　age　of　silence。　“That
is　the　proof　you　talked　about？　This　tale　your　father　told　you？”
“It　is　an　interesting　story；　new　fish；”　Scholar　said；　his　expression　ill　at　ease。
“Hah！　Story　is　right；”　Zeebers　said；　looking　sarcastically　down　at　Larn　from　up　on　the　firing
step。　“A　fairy　story；　like　parents　tell　their　children　to　make　them　sleep。　You　believe　that　crap；　new
fish；　maybe　you　should　go　tell　your　story　to　the　orks　and　see　if　a　miracle　saves　you　then。”
“Shut　up；　Zeebers！”　Bulaven　snapped。　“You’re　supposed　to　be　on　watch；　not　flapping　your　lips
about。　And　it　is　not　as　though　anyone　asked　for　your　opinion。　Leave　the　new　fish　alone。”　Then；
seeing　he　had　cowed　Zeebers　to　silence；　Bulaven　turned　towards　Larn　again。　“Scholar　was　right；
new　fish。　It　was　a　very　interesting　story；　and　you　told　it　well。”
“Is　that　all　you　are　going　to　say？”　Larn　asked；　surprised。　“You　all　sound　like　you　think
something　is　wrong。　As　though　you　don’t　believe　what　I　just　told　you。”
“We　don’t　believe　it；　new　fish。”　Davir　was　blunt。　“Granted；　Scholar　and　Bulaven　are　trying　to　be
soothing　about　it。　But　they　don’t　believe　it　either。　None　of　us　do。　Frankly；　if　the　story　you　just　told
us　is　what　passes　your　benchmark　for　a　miracle；　you　are　even　more　of　an　innocent　than　you　look。”
“I　would　have　expected　you　to　say　that　Davir；”　Larn　said。　“You　don’t　believe　in　anything。　But
what　about　the　rest　of　you？　Scholar？　Bulaven？　Surely　you　can　see　that　what　happened　to　my　greatgrandfather
was　a　miracle？　That　it　is　proof　that　the　Emperor　watches　out　for　us？”
“It　is　not　a　matter　of　believing　you；”　Scholar　said；　lifting　his　shoulders　in　a　helpless　shrug。　“It　is
just　that　even　if　we　accept　the　details　of　your　story　are　true；　new　fish；　those　same　details　are　open　to
a　variety　of　interpretations。”
“Interpretations？”　Larn　said。　“What　are　you　talking　about？
“He　is　saying　you　are　being　naive；　new　fish；”　Davir　said。　“Oh；　he’s　doing　it　in　that　scholarly　way
of　his；　of　course　—　just　tip…toeing　around　the　subject　rather　than　coming　right　out　and　saying　what　is
on　his　mind　directly。　But　he　thinks　you　are　naive。　We　all　do。”
“You　have　to　understand　our　experience　of　life　makes　us　see　these　things　differently；”　Scholar
said。
82
“But　how　is　there　any　different　way　to　see　it？”　Larn　said。　“You　heard　the　story。　What　about　the
man　giving　my　great…grandfather　his　ticket？　Surely　you　can　see　that　must　have　been　the　hand　of　the
Emperor　at　work？”
“Far　be　it　for　me　to　shatter　your　illusions；　new　fish；”　Davir　said。　“But　I　doubt　the　hand　of　the
Emperor　had　anything　to　do　with　it。　No；　likely　the　only　hands　involved　in　it　at　all　would　have
belonged　to　your　great…grandfather。”
“I…　What　do　you　mean？”
“He　killed　him；　new　fish；”　Davir　said。　“The　man　with　the　ticket。　Your　great…grandfather　killed
him　and　took　his　ticket　from　him。　That’s　your　miracle。”
“No；”　Larn　said；　looking　quietly　from　face　to　face　in　disbelief。　“You　are　wrong。”
“Course　I　can　see　how　it　could　have　happened；”　Davir　said。　“There’s　your　great…grandfather。
He’s　sick。　Ailing。　He　knows　winning　the　lottery　is　his　only　chance　of　making　it　out　of　the　Guard
alive。　Then；　when　someone　else　gets　the　winning　ticket；　he　realises　only　that　one　man’s　life　stands
between　him　and　freedom。　And　he　was　a　soldier。　He’d　killed　before。　What　is　one　more　life　in　the
grand　scale　of　things；　he　tells　himself。　It’s　a　dog…eat…dog　universe；　new　fish；　and　it　sounds　like　your
great…grandfather　was　a　dirtier　dog　than　most。”
“No；”　Larn　said。　“You’re　not　listening　to　me。　I’m　telling　you；　you’re　wrong　about　this。　You　are
sick；　Davir。　How　could　you　even　think　something　like　that？”
“It　is　the　name；　new　fish；”　Scholar　said　sadly。　“Or　the　lack　of　one；　I　mean’
“Yes；　the　name；”　Davir　said。　“That’s　what　clinches　it”
“What　are　you…　I　don’t　understand…”
“They’re　talking　about　the　name　of　the　man　who　gave　your　great…grandfather　the　ticket；　new
fish；”　Bulaven　said　with　a　sigh。　“It　wasn’t　part　of　the　story。　And　you　must　be　able　to　see　that　makes
all　the　difference？　I　am　sorry　to　tell　you　this；　but　that　is　what　proves　your　great…grandfather　killed
him。”
“The　name？”　Larn　was　floundering　now；　his　stomach　churning；　his　head　dizzying　as　though　the
world　about　him　had　suddenly　begun　to　turn　strangely　on　its　axis。
“Think　about　it；　new　fish；”　Davir　said。　“This　man　is　supposed　to　have　saved　your　greatgrandfather’s
life。　Your　great…grandfather　must　have　known　his　name。　He　was　a　comrade　of　his；
remember？　A　man　who　had　fought　side…by…side　with　him　through　thirty　years　in　the　Guard？　And
yet；　years　later；　when　your　great…grandfather　tells　the　tale　to　his　son　he　somehow　neglects　to　even
mention　the　name　of　the　man　who　saved　his　life？　It　doesn’t　add　up；　new　fish。　Especially　considering
you　told　us　your　great…grandfather　was　a　pious　man。　A　man　like　that；　if　somebody　does　them　a　good
turn　they　remember　them　in　their　prayers　to　the　Emperor　for　the　rest　of　their　life。”
“It　does　have　the　ring　of　a　guilty　conscience　about　it；　new　fish。”　Scholar　said。　“Though；　if　it　is
any　consolation　to　you；　it　also　suggests　your　great…grandfather　was　not　given　easily　to　murder。　If
he’d　been　a　more　coldblooded　man；　presumably　he’d　have　just　told　his　son　the　man’s　name　and
thought　no　more　about　it。”
“Not　really；　Scholar；”　Davir　said。　“Even　though　years　had　passed　by　then；　he　could’ve　still　been
worried　about　his　crime　being　found　out。　Maybe　he　thought　it　was　better　to　let　bad　dogs　lie；　and
never　mention　the　name　ever。　Either　way；　it　doesn’t　really　make　any　difference。　Your　greatgrandfather
killed　the　man；　new　fish；　and　stole　his　ticket。　That’s　all　there　is　to　it。　So　much　for
miracles。”
“No。　You’ve　got　it　wrong；”　Larn　said。　“There　must　be　another　explanation。　One　you　haven’t
thought　of。　Surely　you　can　see　that　my　great…grandfather　wouldn’t　have　done　anything　like　that？”
But　as　Larn　looked　at　them　it　was　clear　to　him　that　was　exactly　what　they　did　believe。　Davir；
Scholar；　Bulaven；　Zeebers。　All　of　them。　Looking　at　the　faces　of　each　man　in　the　trench；　Larn　could
see　their　minds　were　made　up。　There　had　been　no　miracle。　No　example　of　the　Emperor’s　grace。　To
them；　it　was　a　simple　matter。　His　great…grandfather　had　killed　a　man；　then　lied　about　it　afterwards。
83
“No；”　Larn　said　at　last；　hating　how　weak　his　voice　sounded　and　way　it　wavered。　“No。　You　are
wrong。　You　are　wrong　and　I　don’t　believe　you。”
84
CHAPTER　TWELVE
18：58　hours　Central　Broucheroc　Time
Sector　Command　and　the　Portents　of　a　Coming　Storm　—　Larn　Sulks　—　Davir　at　Last　Finds　a
Reason　to　be　Cheerful　—　Meal　Time　in　Barracks　Dugout　One　—　The　Culinary　Arts　as　According　to
Trooper　Skench　—　A　Discussion　as　to　the　Advantages　of　Artillery　in　the　Hunting　of　Big　Lizards
“Here　are　the　raw　contact　reports　for　the　last　half…hour；　sir；”　Sergeant　Valtys　said；　holding　out　a
sheaf　of　papers　as　thick　as　his　thumb　in　his　outstretched　hand。　“You　said　you　wanted　to　see　them
immediately；　before　they　were　collated。”
Sitting　at　his　desk　in　his　small　office　at　Sector　Command　Beta　（Eastern　Divisions；　Sectors　1…10
to　1…20）；　Colonel　Kallad　Drezlen　turned　to　take　the　papers　from　Valtys　and　begin　to　read　them。
There　must　be　two　hundred　reports　here　at　least；　he　thought。　Each　one　recording　a　separate
incident　of　contact　with　the　enemy。　Two　hundred；　when　usually　at　this　time　of　day　we　would　expect
to　get　no　more　than　eighty　or　so　in　an　hour。　It　looks　like　the　orks　are　getting　restless　hereabouts　and
that　is　never　a　good　sign。　Something　must　he　coming。
“How　bad　is　it；　Jaak？”　he　asked；　raising　his　eyes　from　the　reports　to　look　at　the　sergeant。
“Bad　enough；　sir；”　Valtys　replied；　still　standing　ramrod…straight　beside　the　colonel’s　desk　as
though　he　thought　he　was　on　a　parade　ground　muster。　“Five　of　our　sectors　report　coming　under
heavy　shellfire　from　the　orks。　Another　two　report　incidents　of　massed　assaults。　Then；　we　have
received　something　like　a　hundred　different　reports　from　across　all　sectors　of　contacts　ranging　from
raiding　parties　to　an　increase　in　the　number　of　gretch　snipers　and　scouts　in　no…man’s　land。　Looks
like　there’s　a　real　shitstorm　brewing；　colonel；　if　you　pardon　my　language。”
“Hhh。　You　are　pardoned；　Jaak；”　Drezlen　said；　looking　up　at　the　non…com’s　grizzled　face　with　a
quiet　amusement　born　of　long　familiarity　with　his　ways。　“What　about　Sector　Commands　Alpha　and
Gamma？　Are　they　having　the　same　problem　with　flying　faeces？”
“No　and　I　have　to　admit　that’s　what　put　the　wind　up　me；　sir。　Our　neighbouring　Sector
Commands　say　they’re　having　a　quiet　time　of　it。　Too　quiet；　if　you　ask　me。”
“As　though　the　orks　were　planning　something；　you　mean？”　Drezlen　said；　his　face　serious　now　as
he　gave　voice　to　the　thought　hanging　communally　in　the　air　between　them。　“Concentrating　their
forces　here；　as　though　they　are　about　to　launch　a　major　offensive？”
“Yes；　sir。　Course；　I　know　that’s　not　supposed　to　happen。　I　know　General　HQ　say　the　orks　aren’t
smart　enough　to　coordinate　something　like　that。　But　I’ve　got　a　metal　pin　in　me；　holding　my　left　knee
together　from　the　time　an　ork　shot　blew　a　fist…sized　hole　in　it。　Ever　since　I　got　it；　that　pin　has　always
started　itching　whenever　the　orks　were　up　to　something。　And　right　now　it’s　itching　worse　than　a　redarsed
monkey　that’s　been　sitting　in　a　mound　of　firebugs。”
“I　know　what　you　mean；　Jaak；”　Drezlen　said。　“My　gut’s　the　same　way。　All　the　same；　I　wouldn’t
want　to　go　to　General　Pronan　asking　him　to　order　an　alert　based　on　the　combined　evidence　of　your
pin　and　my　digestion。　I’ll　need　something　a　bit　weightier　than　that。　Get　me　the　collated　statistics　and
summaries　for　these　contact　reports　ASAP。　Then；　I’ll　go　see　the　general　and　see　if　we　can　get　him　to
take　some　action。”
“Begging　your　pardon；　sir；　but　the　general’s　not　on　site。　He　still　hasn’t　returned　from　the　Staff
Briefing　at　General　HQ。”
85
“Spectacular；”　Drezlen　said；　sighing　in　irritation。　“The　one　time　we　really　need　the　old　man　he’s
off　enjoying　flatcakes　and　recaf　with　Grand　Marshal　Kerchan。　All　right；　then。　Looks　like　I’ll　have　to
be　the　one　to　put　my　head　in　the　cudbear’s　mouth。　Get　comms　to　vox　General　HQ。　Tell　them
Colonel　Drezlen　wants　to　put　Sectors　1…10　through　to　1…20　on　Alert　Condition　Red。”
“You　should　try　not　to　take　it　so　much　to　heart；　new　fish；”　Bulaven　had　said；　going　over　to　join　Larn
as　he　sat　alone　in　a　corner　of　the　trench。　“So；　your　great…grandfather　killed　a　man　and　stole　his　ticket。
What　of　it？　It　hardly　matters　now；　does　it？　It　was　a　long　time　ago；　after　all；　and　anyone　it　might　have
been　important　to　is　long　dead　by　now。”
“It　is　not　as　though　we　meant　anything　by　it；　new　fish；”　Bulaven　had　said　then；　once　it　had
become　clear　Larn　was　not　going　to　answer　him。　“We　were　just　talking　is　all。　You　have　to　find　some
way　of　passing　the　time　in　the　trenches。　So；　sometimes　we　tell　stories　and　afterwards　everyone　gives
their　opinion。　You　have　to　understand　it　is　nothing　personal。”
“Granted；　maybe　we　should　not　have　been　so　forthright；”　Bulaven　had　said　next；　while　Larn
stared　fixedly　ahead　and　refused　to　look　at　him。　“Your　story　was　important　to　you；　I　can　see　that
now。　We　should　have　been　kinder　perhaps。”
“Perhaps　you　are　right；　new　fish；”　Bulaven　had　said　at　last。　“Perhaps　it　was　a　miracle　and　we　are
all　full　of　manure。　I　am　not　a　preacher。　I　don’t　know　about　such　things。　But　really；　new　fish；　it　is
making　your　own　life　hard　on　yourself　if　you　just　keep　sitting　there　in　silence。”
“Ach；　leave　him；　Bulaven；”　Davir　had　said。　“All　your　feeble…fabbling　around　the　new　fish　is
giving　me　a　headache。　If　he　wants　to　sulk；　let　him。　Emperor　knows；　it’ll　be　a　damn　sight　more　quiet
around　here　without　all　his　stupid　questions。”
Time　passed。　Sitting　alone　in　his　corner　of　the　trench　while　Zeebers　stood　on　watch　and　the　others
played　cards；　Larn　found　the　heat　of　his　anger　had　slowly　cooled。　With　it；　he　became　gradually
aware　of　other　things；　sensations　that　until　then　had　been　masked　from　him　by　the　intensity　of　the
emotions　boiling　within　him　ever　since　the　Vardans　had　defamed　his　great…grandfather’s　memory
and　ridiculed　his　story　of　the　miracle。
Emperor’s　tears；　but　it　is　cold；　Larn　thought；　suddenly　realising　he　had　been　sitting　in　the　same
spot　so　long　his　backside　had　gone　to　sleep。　Just　as　he　was　about　to　stand　and　stretch；　to　move　about
in　the　trench　in　the　hope　of　getting　his　circulation　working；　some　lingering　residue　of　his　anger
stopped　him。
I　get　up　and　move　now　the　others　will　think　I　have　forgiven　them；　he　thought；　hating　how
childish　the　thought　made　him　feel　and　yet　at　the　same　time　helpless　to　resist　it。　It　would　be　like
giving　in；　he　thought。　Like　I　was　admitting　I　believed　all　the　nonsense　they　talked　before　about　my
great…grandfather　stealing　the　ticket。　Then；　his　anger　re…igniting　at　the　thought　the　others　might
think　him　weak；　he　resolved　to　sit　where　he　was　in　silence　a　while　longer。
Of　course　it　doesn’t　really　matter　what　they　think；　he　thought　after　some　further　time　had　passed。
It　doesn’t　matter　if　they　think　I　have　given　in。　It　doesn’t　matter　whether　they　think　my　greatgrandfather
stole　the　ticket　or　murdered　anyone。　All　that　matters　is　that　I　know　those　things　aren’t
true。　So　long　as　I　know　that；　they　can　believe　whatever　they　like。　Still；　he　was　not　content。
Something　deep　inside　him　refused　to　let　him　move。
They　have　all　been　in　this　place　too　long；　he　thought　at　last。　That’s　w