Double Eagle(科幻战争)-第48章

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“Umbra　Eleven；”　she　yelled。　“Are　you　stable？”
“Just　a　flesh　wound；　mamzel；”　Cordiale　replied；　as　if　merely　passing　the　time　of　day。　The
damage　to　his　bird　was　nothing　like　a　flesh　wound。
“Pull　round　and　descend；”　Jagdea　ordered。　“Theda　Operations；　Theda　Operations；　we　have　a
crippled　bird　inbound。”
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“Copy　that；　Lead。　Strips　are　open。”
Jagdea　glanced　to　port。　Two　Razors　had　dropped　low　on　vectors　to　chase　Cordiale。
“Cordiale！　Break！”
“Break？　I　can　barely　stay　level！”　Cordiale　replied。
Jagdea　gunned　the　throttle。　“Blansher？　Take　over。　I’m　following　Eleven　in。　Umbra　Flight；　Two
has　command　as　of　now。”
“Read　that；　Jagdea；”　Blansher　voxed。
Jagdea　brought　Zero…Two　down　in　a　rapid　pass。　Cordiale’s　Bolt　was　now　spewing　smoke。
She　got　a　tone　lock　on　one　of　the　Razors　and　just　grazed　it　with　her　cannon…fire。　It　broke　away。
The　other　bent　in；　intent　on　Cordiale’s　stricken　craft。
Jagdea　banked　hard　and　adjusted。　The　Razor　was　slipping　through　her　gunsight。
She　lined　up；　with　about　forty　degrees　of　deflection　and　hammered　it。　The　Razor　belched　black
smoke；　rose　nose…up　as　if　to　flee；　and　then　exploded　in　a　flurry　of　burning　chunks。
Something　as　hard　as　a　wrecking　ball　smashed　into　the　left　side　of　Jagdea’s　cockpit。　Part　of　the
canopy　shattered；　her　instruments　blew　out；　and　buckled　armour　plating　tore　in；　slashing　across　her
left　arm。
She　screamed　in　pain。　The　Razor　went　past　her；　turning　for　a　second　strike。
Shaking；　she　tried　to　level。
“Theda　Operations；”　she　gasped。　“Two；　repeat　two　cripples　coming　in。”　The　field　lay　before　her。
She　saw　the　spread　of　the　city；　the　firestorms；　the　battered　air…base。
Wind　sucked　and　whistled　through　the　split　cabin。　Smoke　gushed　from　under　the　instrument
display。　Jagdea　could　see　nothing　through　the　left　hand　side　ports　of　the　canopy　because　they　were
painted　with　blood…　her　blood。　She　glanced　down。　She　could　see　torn　flight　armour；　blood；　flesh。　A
glimpse　of　white　bone。
Her　port　engine　flamed　out。
She　dropped　harder；　woozing　in　and　out　of　shock。
She　heard　an　odd　sound；　and　finally　realised　it　was　the　target　lock　warning。　She’d　been　locked
up。
The　Razor　dropped　towards　her；　its　guns　opening　up；　then　it　detonated　like　a　triggered　mine；
fluttering　scrap　out　in　a　broad　circle。
“Get　down　safe；　Bree；”　Blansher　called　as　he　ripped　over。　“In　the　name　of　the　God…Emperor；　get
down　safe。”
The　cratered　strip…way　came　up。　Jagdea　fought　with　her　thrusters；　trying　to　correct。　At　the　last
moment；　she　distantly　remembered　her　cart；　and　dropped　it。　Cordiale　was　already　down；　the　crews
around　his　smoking　bird。
Jagdea　passed　out。　Then　she　snapped　awake；　smacked　by　the　juddering　impact；　and　heaved　on
the　stick。
Zero…Two　slid　twenty　metres　on　its　claws　and　came　to　rest。
Cordiale　was　first　to　reach　her。　He　punched　off　the　hood　using　the　emergency　release；　and
reached　in　to　kill　the　screaming　jets　before　the　Bolt　lifted　off　again。
Jagdea　looked　up　at　him。　Her　helmet　visor　was　speckled　with　drops　of　blood。　She　wiped　it；　but
that　simply　smeared　it。
Using　her　right　hand；　she　pulled　off　the　helmet　and　threw　it　out。　“You’re　going　to　be　okay；”
Cordiale　said。　It　was　the　last　thing　she　heard。
The　Peninsula；　11。21
The　roads　were　blocked；　as　far　as　the　eye　could　see。　LeGuin　stood　on　the　top　of　the　Line’s　turret　and
stared。　It　was　a　dismal　sight。　Thousands　of　vehicles；　most　of　them　military；　nose　to　tail　through　the
town；　and　out　beyond　it　onto　the　northbound　highways。
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Many　of　the　machines　had　turned　off　their　engines　to　conserve　fuel；　but　the　air　was　still　rich　with
exhaust　fumes。　Men　milled　about；　and　LeGuin　heard　more　than　one　angry　outburst。
“See　anything？”　Viltry　asked。　He　was　sitting　on　the　edge　of　one　of　the　top　hatches。
“Nothing　that’s　moving。”
The　town　was　called　Nivelle；　a　market　burg　on　the　broad　flood　plains　of　the　Lida　some　sixty
kilometres　south　of　Ezraville。　Like　so　many　of　the　places　they　had　travelled　through；　it　had　suffered
bombing　damage；　and　seemed　empty　of　civilians。
Once　the　column　had　passed　down　onto　the　decent　hard　roads　along　the　Lida；　the　going　had　been
good；　despite　cratering　and　the　constant　threat　of　air　attack。　They’d　met　with　relief　units　along　the
route；　which　brought　them　much　needed　food；　medicae　supplies　and　fuel。　It　had　begun　to　feel　like
they　were　rolling　back　into　civilisation　after　the　weeks　of　hardship　and　struggle。
But　the　war　had　somehow　overtaken　them。　The　Littoral　and　the　Peninsula　had　taken　a　pasting。
From　Nivelle；　the　skies　of　Ezraville　formed　one　vast　storm…cloud　of　black　smoke。　Aircraft；　often　too
high　to　identify；　went　over　all　the　time。　They　had　grandstand　seats　for　several　huge　air　battles　over
the　valley：　specks　moving　and　circling；　spiralling　and　turning；　leaving　brief；　intricate　filigrees　of
contrails；　darting　sparks　and　flashes。　Burning　machines；　like　meteors　on　re…entry；　had　fallen　out　of
the　heavens　into　distant　pastures。
Operating　at　rooftop　height；　Munitorum　lifters　and　Valkyrie　carriers　passed　overhead　regularly；
zipping　back　and　forth　along　the　column。　Many　were　extracting　the　more　seriously　wounded　for
treatment　at　the　coastal　hospitals。
Munitorum　directives　had　ordered　the　columns　to　Ezraville　where　mass…barges　and　VTRPs　were
waiting　to　evacuate　them　to　the　northern　shores。　That　was　the　plan；　at　least。
In　reality；　the　roads　had　become　increasingly　full　as　the　column　caught　up　with　other　convoys；　or
met　more　elements　moving　in　from　other　directions。　And　the　mass　exodus　wasn’t　all　military。
They’d　driven　past　long　processions　of　civilian　refugees；　families　with　children；　walking　by　the
roadsides；　pushing　their　abbreviated　lives　on　hand　barrows。
Matredes　rejoined　them。　LeGuin　had　sent　him　off　looking　for　any　Munitorum　seniors　working
the　file。
“There’s　some　good　news；”　Matredes　said　as　he　clambered　up。　“We’re　jammed　here　because　the
evacuation　is　almost　overwhelmed。”
“That’s　good　news？”　said　LeGuin。
“According　to　the　senior　I　spoke　to；　yes；　sir。　About　thirty　per　cent　more　of　us　have　made　it　home
than　they　were　expecting。　They’ve　been　scrambling　to　organise　more　VTRPs　from　the　northern
shores　to　help　with　the　demand。　Lord　Militant　Flumel　didn’t　manage　to　kill　quite　as　many　of　us　as
they’d　feared。”
“Not　like　a　lord　militant　not　to　do　his　job　properly；”　sniped　LeGuin。
Viltry　smiled；　but　he　knew　that　it　was　good　news　in　the　long　run。　If　more　of　the　land　force　was
making　it　home；　then　a　stronger　host　could　be　regrouped　for　the　phase　of　war　to　come。　It　made　his
efforts；　and　the　labours　of　all　the　pilots；　seem　much　more　worthwhile。
“The　other　problem　appears　to　the　people；”　said　Matredes。　“Civilians　are　leaving　Ezraville　in
droves；　and　refugees　are　pouring　in　from　the　Littoral。　Whole　highways　are　shut　down　with　refugee
traffic。”
“So　we’re　stuck　here？”
“The　Munitorum　are　advising　any　units　with　decent　fuel　and　fair　running　to　divert　east。
Evacuation　centres　are　being　established　at　several　of　the　coast　towns　along　from　Ezraville　to　ease
the　pressure　there。　It　means　cross　country；　that　way—”　Matredes　pointed。　“Then　we　should　hit　some
decent　roads。”　He　pulled　a　scrap　of　paper　out　of　his　pocket。　“I　wrote　down　the　names：　Fetona；　St
Chryze；　Langersville。　I　can　find　them　on　the　chart。”
LeGuin　shrugged。　“We’ve　got　fuel　and　traction。　What　do　we　think？”
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“Better　than　sitting　here；”　Matredes　ventured。
“What’s　another　few　kilometres？”　said　Emdeen。
“East　suits　me；”　Viltry　said。
“Let’s　do　it；”　said　LeGuin。
It　took　them　another　hour　to　spread　the　word　and　recruit　about　forty　machines　to　come　with
them。　LeGuin　made　sure　they　were　all　in　decent　repair。　He　didn’t　want　stragglers。　The　damaged；　the
struggling；　they　could　stay　with　the　main　tide　of　traffic。
After　that；　once　he’d　voxed　numbers　and　details　into　Munitorum　despatch　and　got　an　all…clear；　it
took　another　two　hours　to　manoeuvre　out　of　the　line。　It　was　hard　work；　like　a　stalemated　round　of
regicide；　with　nowhere　to　back　up　or　turn。　Arguments　flared。　LeGuin　and　Viltry　had　to　jump　down
and　break　up　a　brawl　between　the　crew　of　a　Gerzon　regiment　halftrack　and　the　men　from　a　44th
Light　Chimera　that　had　accidentally　rammed　it。
Finally；　the　comman