Double Eagle(科幻战争)-第13章

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Eads　sat　forward　and　lifted　a　data…slate　out　of　the　pile　to　his　left。　He　put　it　down　in　front　of　him。
“Your　modesty　does　you　credit；　cadet。　I　have　Heckel’s　report　right　here。　It’s…　How　should　I　put　it？
Glowing；　isn’t　it；　major？”
“It’s　just　an　account；　sir；”　said　Heckel。
“You　took　on　that　bat　and　flew　your　boots　off。　Instinctive；　brilliant。　The　major　praises　you　in　no
uncertain　terms。　Hell；　If　I’d　seen　you　fly　the　way　he　said　you　did；　I’d　be　calling　for　a
commendation。”
“You　said　that？”　Darrow　murmured。
Heckel　stared　at　the　floor。　“Just　reporting　what　I　saw；　cadet。”
“So；　well　done；”　Eads　said。
Darrow　blinked。　“Sir…　If　I’ve　earned　such　praise…　If　I’ve　shown　what　I　can　do…　why　am　I
being　sent　to　reserve？”
“My　choice；　Darrow。　Don’t　you　go　blaming　Heckel　for　this。　His　recommendation　was　to　get　you
a　transfer　to　Quarry　Flight。　But　there’s　this　little　matter…”
“Sir？”
“It　was　your　first　combat。　Your　first　fly…fight。　You　did　well；　but　that’s　the　way　first　fly…fights　go。
Novices　usually　die　in　those　situations。　The　ones　that　survive　seem　to　punch　above　their　weight。
And　almost　always；　that’s　down　to　luck。　You　did　gloriously　in　one　sortie；　Darrow；　but　that　doesn’t
make　a　career。　I　decided　to　send　you　to　reserve　for　that　reason。”
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“Commander？”
“Luck；　cadet。　I　think；　yesterday；　you　used　up　an　entire　lifetime　of　luck。　You　used　it　all　in　one
dogfight。　If　I　keep　you　active；　you’ll　be　dead　the　next　time　you　go　out。”
Darrow　didn’t　know　what　to　say。　He　blinked。　His　mouth　was　dry。
“So；　are　we　done？”　asked　Eads。
“Sir；”　they　both　said；　and　left　the　office。
Heckel　caught　up　with　Darrow　on　the　stairs。　“I’m　sorry！”　he　said。
Darrow　looked　back　up　at　him。　“God…Emperor；　don’t　be　sorry；　sir；”　he　said。　“You　didn’t　have　to
make　a　report　like　that。”
“I　only　wrote　what　I　saw；　Darrow。　That　piece　of　airmanship　was　fantas—”
“You　saved　my　life；　sir。　Gunning　in　like　that。　He　had　me。　You　saved　my　life。”
Heckel　hesitated；　caught　in　the　sunlight　of　the　stairwell。　“I　did　what　I　could；”　he　said。
“You　saved　my　life。　He　had　me；”　Darrow　repeated。
“But—”
“Thank　you；”　Darrow　said。
Darrow　continued　on　down　the　stairs　and　strode　along　the　hall　past　the　chapel。　Only　then　did　he
notice　the　smudge。
On　the　blackboard；　the　service　of　honour。　The　names　of　Hunt　Flight。　At　the　bottom　of　the　list
was　a　name　that　had　been　written　up　in　chalk　and　then　smudged　off。
It　was　his　own。
Theda　MAB　South；　13。01
The　chainmail　aviator’s　glove　thumped　onto　the　desktop　like　a　lead　weight。
“I　borrowed　that　from　stores；”　Bree　Jagdea　said。　“So；　do　you　want　to　explain　or　should　I　smash
you　round　the　face　with　it？”
Wing　Leader　Etz　Seekan　looked　down　at　the　glove　for　a　moment。　His　manicured　fingers
drummed　deftly　on　the　edge　of　the　desk。
“Let　me　see…”　he　said　softly。　He　was　a　beautiful　man；　perfectly　built；　with　twinkling　blue　eyes
and　a　captivating　grin。　His　dark　hair　was　superbly　groomed　and　oiled；　and　his　manner　was
annoyingly　relaxed　and　charming。
He　looked　up　at　Jagdea。　“Part　of　me　wants　you　to—what　was　it？—smash　me　round　the　face。　Just
to　see　Ornoff　when　it　comes　to　filing　charges。　But　I　don’t　think　that　will　get　us　anywhere。　Why
don’t　you　sit　down？”
He　gestured　to　the　armchair　in　front　of　his　desk。
“I　prefer　to　stand；”　Jagdea　snapped。
Seekan　shrugged。　“Around　this　time；　I　like　to　take　a　small　glass　of　joiliq。　Can　I　interest　you　in
one？”
“I　prefer　to—no；　you　bloody　can’t！”
Seekan　shrugged　and　rose。　He　walked　over　to　the　cabinet　and　poured　a　very　small　measure　of
liquor　into　a　tumbler。　“I’ve　heard　about　you；”　he　said。
Jagdea　stiffened。　What　the　hell　did　that　mean？　Part　of　her　wanted　to　gush：　I’ve　heard　about　you
too；　all　of　you…　all　the　Apostles。　The　finest　fliers　in　the　western　Navy。　Quint；　ace　of　aces；
Gettering；　Suhr…　and　always　Seekan。　Wing　Leader　Seekan；　master　of　the　Apostles。　Never　a
famously　high　score；　but　renowned　for　his　leadership　and　tactics。　Loved　by　his　men。　Seekan；　the
Imperial　hero。
She　chewed　her　lip　instead。
“About　me？”　she　said。
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“Not　you　particularly；”　Seekan　said。　He　thought　about　that　for　a　second　and　then　frowned。
“Throne；　I　didn’t　mean　to　offend　you。　I　meant　the　Phantine。　The　only　founded　Imperial　Guard
regiment　who　are　fliers。　Because　of　the　nature　of　your　home　world；　isn’t　that　right？”
“Yes。”
Seekan　nodded。　He　raised　his　glass　and　rolled　the　spirit　around　inside　it。　“All　other　air　wings
come　under　the　command　of　the　Imperial　Navy；　except　yours。　That　makes　us　allies　rather　than　kin。”
“I　suppose。”
Seekan　smiled。　“And　you　value　female　pilots　as　much　as　men。　Females　are　few　in　the　Navy。
This　is　a　rare…”
“Pleasure？”　asked　Jagdea。
“‘Thing’。　I　was　going　to　say；　“thing’。”
“There　is　no　viable　land　on　Phantine；”　Jagdea　said。　“Everyone　learns　to　fly；　men　and　women。
Our　ability　is　said　to　be　intuitive　and　exceptional。”
“The　same　has　been　said　of　the　Apostles。”
“You　have　no　reason　to　celebrate　your　own　virtues。　The　Apostles’　reputation　is　clear　enough。”
“Thank　you。”
“So…　would　you　like　to　explain　why　your　man　struck　my　pilot　with　a　glove　like　that？”
“Because　he　was　angry。”
“Angry？　Angry？”
“Are　you　sure　you　wouldn’t　like　to　sit　down；　commander？”
“Answer　the　damn　question！”
“Captain　Guis　Gettering…　Sixty…two　kills。　His　bird　is　called　the　Double　Eagle。　He　was　offended
that　your　man　would　copy　that　name　for　his　own　plane。”
“That’s　it？”
“What　else　can　I　say？”　Seekan　shrugged。
“My　pilot　will　rename　his　plane。　No　offence　was　intended。　In　return；　I　suggest　your　Captain
Gettering　makes　a　written　and　formal　apology　to　Pilot　Officer　Marquall。　Then　the　matter　may　be
concluded　without　higher　attention。”
“My　pleasure；”　said　Seekan。　Jagdea　turned　and　strode　to　the　door。
“Commander？”　Seekan　called。　She　paused　in　the　doorway　and　looked　back。　“Good　flying；”　he
said。
Over　the　Lida　Valley；　15。16
It　wasn’t　an　auspicious　start　to　their　first　official　sortie。　A　bright；　promising　day　had　turned　sour　in
the　time　it　had　taken　to　get　their　machines　aloft。　At　ten　thousand　metres；　with　a　lousy　eight…tenths
cloud；　and　an　even　more　lousy　side　wind；　they　were　running　up　the　wide　valley　of　the　River　Lida
towards　the　mountains。
Jagdea’s　normally　sweet…running　Thunderbolt；　serial　Zero…Two；　was　flying　rough　and　heavy。
Too　long　in　the　belly…hold　of　a　Navy　carrier；　Jagdea　supposed。　The　devoted　maintenance　crews　had
done　their　best　to　keep　systems　at　optimum；　but　there　was　no　substitute　for　regular　flying　time。
Apart　from　the　delivery　run　to　Theda　MAB　South；　all　the　Thunderbolts　in　Umbra　Flight　had　been
out　of　use　for　three　and　a　half　months。
Then　again；　she　wondered；　maybe　it　was　her。　Serial　Zero…Two　wasn’t　the　only　thing　not　to　have
flown　in　three　and　a　half　months。　Jagdea　felt　clumsy　and　inept。　She’d　even　made　a　sloppy　job　of
take…off。　They’d　had　simulators　on　the　carrier　of　course；　regular　sessions　to　keep　them　sharp；　but　it
wasn’t　the　same；　just　like　turning　a　bird’s　turbofans　over　on　the　flight　deck　every　morning　wasn’t
the　same。
Good　flying。　Seekan’s　presumably　honestly　meant　remark　now　seemed　like　a　jinx。
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They　were　flying　in　unit　teams　of　four　machines。　With　her　were　Van　Tull；　Espere　and　Marquall。
Blansher　had　the　second　unit　four　about　forty　kilometres　behind　them；　and　Asche　the　third；　running
a　wide　patrol　over　the　Littoral。　Essentially；　Umbra　Flight　had　split　into　three　independent　Interceptor
units。　That　was　optimum　size　for　routine　hunting　or　opportunist　intercept　work。　If　more　than　three　or
four　Thunderbolts　tried　to　share　the　same　slice　of　sky；　things　tended　to　get　a　little　crowded。
Anyway；　this　wasn’t　a　hunt。　It　was　a　shakedown。　A　little　wind…in…the…hair　run　to　get　pilots　and
machines　into　the　swing　of　things。　Umbra　Flight　had　traditionally　been　a　Lightning　wing；　but　after
the　liberation　of　Phantine；　they’d　switched　to　the　heavier　Thunderbolts；　and　come　to　love　them
during　the　air　war　on　Urdesh　Minor。　Sometimes　Jagdea　missed　the　sprightly　performance　of　the　IIIIX
Lightning；　the　exhilarating　rates　of　its　climb　and　dive；　the　darting　grace　of　its　turns。　The
Thunderbolt　was　almost　half　as　heavy　again　and；　at　lower　speeds