The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第43章

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'Hands　on　your　heads！'　Fischig　ordered　the　crewmen　as　he　bundled　me　out　of　the　hatch　and　into　the　blizzard。
I　could　barely　walk　and　he　had　to　support　me。
'You　poisoned　me；'　I　gasped。
'I　had　to　make　it　convincing。　Aemos　prepared　a　dose　that　would　reactivate　the　binary　poison　in　your　body。　Pye's　poison。'
'You　bastards！'
'Hah！　A　man　who　can　curse　is　far　from　dead。　Come　on！'
He　half…carried　me　across　the　shingle　into　the　oceanic　gale；　snowflakes　stinging　our　faces。　Lights　swooped　down　ahead　of　us　as　the
gun…cutter　came　in；　executing　a　perfect；　Betancore…style　landing　on　the　icy　shingle。
Fischig　bundled　me　up　the　landing　ramp　into　the　arms　of　Bequin　and　Inshabel。
'Dear　lord；　have　you　thought　this　through？'　I　wheezed。
'Of　course　we　have！'　Bequin　snapped。　'Nathun！　Get　a　booster　shot　of　antivenin！'
FOR　THE　SECOND　time　in　under　two　years；　I　was　dead。　From　binary　poison　at　the　hands　of　Beldame　Sadia's　henchmen　on　Lethe；　and
now；　dead　in　a　shuttle…crash；　brought　down　in　a　winter…storm　over　the　Caducades　on　Cadia。
The　gun…cutter　lofted　from　the　beach；　ran　the　length　of　it；　and　then　came　back　towards　the　downed　shuttle。
May　the　Emperor　forgive　me　and　my　staff　for　the　deaths　of　Riggre　and　the　two　flight　crew。　Their　deaths　were　the　only　way　I　could
maintain　my　security。
'Fire；'　I　heard　Nayl　tell　Medea。
The　gun…cutter's　ordnance　strafed　the　Cadian　shuttle　and　blew　it　apart。　By　dawn；　the　jetsam　along　the　remote　islet's　shore　would
suggest　nothing　but　a　tragic　crash　caused　by　the　hellish　storms。
WE　BANKED　UP　through　the　cover　of　the　storms　towards　orbital　space。　Though　no　one　told　me；　I　knew　our　flight　plan　was　covered　by
someone　else's　authority　code。
Neve's　was　my　guess。　Probably　with　her　permission。
The　Essene　was　waiting　for　us。
'Now　what？'　I　asked　Fischig　hoarsely。
'Dammit；　I've　risked　everything　I　count　dear　to　get　you　this　far；'　he　replied。　'I　was　kind　of　hoping　you'd　know　what　to　do　now。'
'Cinchare；'　I　said。　'Tell　Maxilla　to　get　us　to　Cinchare。'
THERE　ARE　SOME　secrets　that　are　worth　keeping。
'What's　at　Cinchare？'　Bequin　asked。
'An　old　friend；'　I　said。
'Not　a　friend；　exactly；'　added　Aemos。
'No。　Aemos　is　right。　An　old　associate。'
'Two　old　associates；　to　be　specific；'　Aemos　added。
'Bequin　pulled　a　particularly　angry　face。　'You　pair　and　your　old　intimacies。　Why　don't　you　ever　give　a　straight　answer？'
'Because　the　less　you　kno　you　if　we're　caught；'　I　said。
'THE　NEW　LEAN　you；'　syruped　Maxilla　as　I　walked　onto　the　Essene's　bridge。
I　had　shaved　away　my　beard；　had　my　ragged　hair　clipped　back；　and　dressed　in　a　suit　of　black　linen　after　my　shower。　I　was　still　terribly
weak　on　my　feet　and　in　no　mind　for　Maxilla's　foolery。
'Course　is　set　for　Cinchare；'　Maxilla　said　stiffly；　apparently　recognising　my　mood。　His　gold…masked　servitors　chimed　in　agreement。
His　hooded　navigator；　all　senses　fixed　on　some　different；　quite　other　place；　said　nothing。
'I　have　a　question；'　said　Inshabel。　He　was　seated　at　secondary　navigation　position；　reviewing　the　star…maps。　'Why　Cinchare？　A　mining
world　out　in　the　edges　of　the　Segmentum；　almost　a　Halo　Star。　I　thought　we'd　be　trying　to　find　Quixos。'
'There's　no　point。'
'What？'　Maxilla　and　Inshabel　asked；　almost　in　unison。
I　sat　down　on　a　padded　leather　seat。　'Why　make　the　endeavour　to　find　Quixos　when　he　would　surely　kill　us　at　a　stroke？　We've　barely
survived　individual　encounters　with　two　of　his　daemonhosts。　We　haven't　the　strength　to　fight　him。'
'So？'　asked　Inshabel。
'So　the　first　thing　we　do　is　find　the　strength。　Prepare。　Arm　ourselves。　Make　ourselves　ready　to　take　down　one　of　the　most　powerful
evils　in　the　Imperium。'
'And　for　that　we　need　to　go　to　Cinchare？'　Inshabel　whispered。
'Cinchare's　the　start；　Nathun；'　I　said。　'Trust　me。'

SEVENTEEN
ROGUE　STAR。
DOCTOR　SAVINE；　CORA　AND　MR　HORN。
IN　THE　ANNEX。
EVEN　AT　FULL　warp；　it　took　the　Essene　thirty　weeks　to　reach　Cinchare。
True；　we　took　a　circuitous　route；　avoiding　all　possible　encounters　with　the　forces　of　the　Imperium。　I　hated　that。　For　once；　I　hated　the
subterfuge。
We　learned；　indirectly；　a　few　weeks　into　the　voyage；　that　my　escape　from　Cadia　had　been　discovered。　The　Inquisition　…　and　other
agencies　…　were　hunting　me。　I　had　been　formally　declared　Heretic　and　Extremis　Diabolus。　Lord　Rorken　had　finally　counter…signed
Osma's　carta。
I　was　now　something　I　had　never　been　before。
A　fugitive。　A　renegade。　And　in　aiding　me；　my　band　of　comrades　had　made　themselves　fugitives　too。
We　had　a　few　scrapes。　Refuelling　at　Mallid；　we　were　discovered　and　pursued　by　an　unidentified　warship　which　we　lost　in　the
empyrean。　At　Avignor；　a　squadron　of　Ecclesiarchy　battle…boats；　standing　picket　watch　along　the　border　of　the　diocese；　tried　to　run　us
to　ground。　We　only　escaped　that　one　thanks　to　a　combination　of　Maxilla's　shipcraft　and　Medea's　fighting　nous。
On　Trexia　Beta；　Nayl　and　Fischig　ran　across　a　band　of　arbites　hunters　while　they　were　trying　to　hire　an　astropath。　They　never　told　me
how　many　they　had　been　forced　to　kill；　but　it　sat　badly　with　them　for　weeks。
On　Anemae　Gulfward；　Bequin　succeeded　in　obtaining　the　services　of　an　astropath；　a　sickly　female　called　Tasaera　Ungish。　When
Ungish　found　out　who　I　was；　she　begged　to　be　returned　to　her　backwater　world。　It　took　a　long　time　to　convince　her　that　she　was　in　no
danger　from　me。　I　had　to　open　my　mind　to　her　in　the　end。
At　Oet's　Star；　we　were　discovered　by　an　Inquisitor　Frontalle　during　a　resupply　layover。　As　it　was　with　Riggre　and　the　Cadian　pilots；　I
will　always　be　haunted　by　those　necessary　deaths。　I　tried　to　reason　with　Frontalle。　I　tried　very　hard。　A　young　man；　he　believed　that
taking　me　down　was　the　key　to　a　famous　career。　Eisenhorn　the　Heretic；　he　kept　calling　me。　They　were　the　last　words　on　his　lips　when
I　pitched　him　into　the　geothermal　heating　exchanger。
From　Trexia　Beta　onwards；　there　was　an　almost　permanent　rumour　that　a　kill…team　of　the　Ordo　Malleus's　Grey　Knights　was　hunting
us。　And　the　Ordo　Xenos's　Deathwatch　Chapter　too。
I　prayed　to　my　God…Emperor　that　I　could　complete　this　task　before　the　forces　of　righteousness　overtook　me。　And　I　prayed　to　him　that
my　friends　might　be　spared。
BETWEEN　THOSE　ESCAPADES；　there　were　only　the　long；　slow　weeks　of　transit　in　the　deep　warp。　I　filled　my　time　with　study；　and　with
weapons　practice　with　Nayl；　Fischig　or　Medea。　I　battled　to　get　myself　healthy　again。　The　Carnificina　had　wasted　me；　both　in　body　and
spirit。　The　weight　I　had　lost　would　simply　not　go　back　on；　despite　Maxilla's　generous　banquets。
And　I　felt　slow。　Slow　with　a　blade；　slow　on　my　feet。　Slow　and　clumsy　with　a　gun。
Even　my　mind　was　slow。　I　began　to　fear　that　Osma　had　broken　me。
Tasaera　Ungish　was　a　semi…paralysed　woman　in　her　fifties。　The　arduous　rituals　of　the　warp　had　left　her　broken　and　all　but　burned　out；
consigned　to　a　life　as　a　junior　telepath　in　the　class…chambers　of　Ane…mae　Gulfward。　Her　raddled　body　was　supported　by　an　augmetic
exo…skeleton。　I　believe　she　might　have　been　beautiful　once；　but　her　face　was　now　hollow　and　her　hair　thin　where　the　implant　plugs　of
her　calling　had　been　sited。
'That　time　again；　heretic？'　she　asked　as　I　walked　into　her　quarters。　This　was　about　the　twentieth　week　of　the　voyage。
'I　wish　you　wouldn't　call　me　that；'　I　said。
'Coping　strategy；'　she　purred。　'Your　e　out　of　a　safe　life　on　Anemae　Gulfward；　and　made　me　party　to　a
heretic's　private　crusade。'
'A　safe　life；　Ungish？　A　bad　end。　You'd　have　been　dead　in　another　six　months；　the　strain　of　the　traffic　they　were　making　you　process。'
She　tutted；　her　augmetic　chassis　whirring　as　she　poured　us　two　glasses　of　amasec。　Hers　was　laced　with　fitobarrier　enhancers；　and　her
room　stank　of　lho…leaf。　I　knew　the　rigours　of　her　life　had　left　her　in　constant　pain；　and　she　fought　that　pain　off　with　everything　she
could　lay　her　hands　on。
'Dead　and　buried　on　Anemae　Gulfward　in　six…　or　dead　in　agony　in　your　service。'
'It's　not　like　that；'　I　said；　nodding　as　I　took　the　glass　she　proffered。
'Is　it　not？'
'No。　I've　let　you　see　my　mind。　You　know　the　purity　of　my　cause。'
She　frowned。　'Maybe。'　She　was　having　difficulty　manipulating　her　own　glass。　The　mechadendrites　that　governed　her　right　hand　were
old　and　slow。
She　waved　me　off　when　I　tried　to　help。
'Maybe？'　I　asked。
She　took　a　big　swig　of　her　drin