Double Eagle(科幻战争)-第49章

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Light　Chimera　that　had　accidentally　rammed　it。
Finally；　the　commander　of　a　Pardus　Conqueror；　The　Stuff　of　Legend；　managed　to　find　a　turning
space　in　the　gateway　of　a　canning　plant；　and　lanced　the　pressure　by　creating　a　new　exit　route　with
his　dozer　blade。　He　leveled　a　line　of　stone　privies　and　yards　behind　a　terrace　of　habs；　then　churned
forward　through　a　blighted　orchard　and　a　series　of　fenced…off　market　gardens；　boisterously　cheered
on　by　the　onlookers。
Vehicles　began　to　edge　out　and　follow　him。　Roaring　smoke；　the　Line　of　Death　was　the　sixth
vehicle　clear。　They　clattered　across　the　ruin　of　the　market　gardens　and　out　onto　pastureland；　where
they　rolled　up　and　waited　as　the　others　trickled　out　and　joined　them。　Nine　Pardus　tanks；　eleven　from
the　Gerzon　Heavy；　six　from　the　2nd　Balchinor　Tracked　Company；　three　Hydra　platforms；　and
sixteen　assorted　troop　carriers　and　half…tracks　laden　with　Guardsmen。　By　common　consent；　LeGuin
had　command。　This　was　due　in　part　to　the　fact　it　had　been　his　idea；　but　also　because　the　Line　had
earned　itself　a　reputation　by　bringing　down　the　bat　on　the　previous　afternoon。
LeGuin　gave　the　command；　and　they　rolled　out；　kicking　up　mud　as　they　crossed　the　pasture　onto
uncultivated　land。
It　was　a　rough　ride。　Viltry　sat　in　the　turret　and　clung　on。
But　they　were　moving　at　last。
Theda　MAB　South；　14。02
“Handing　off；”　said　Eads。
“Thank　you；　Flight；”　said　his　shift　replacement。　“I　have　control。”
As　the　replacement　controller　took　position；　Darrow　helped　Eads　remove；　clean　and　stow　his
augmetic　links。　Both　of　them　were　light…headed；　frazzled。　The　demands　of　their　work　had　not
slackened　one　bit　for　the　duration　of　their　shift。
“Good　luck；”　Eads　said　to　the　new　flight；　but　the　man　was　already　too　busy　coming　to　terms
with　the　pandemonium　in　his　catchment　to　respond。
Darrow　waited　while　Eads　spoke　quietly　to　the　deck　officer；　then　escorted　him　up　out　of　the
hubbub　of　the　rotunda。　Eads　had　his　cane；　but　he　held　Darrow’s　arm　and　allowed　the　younger　man
to　lead　him。　He　was　exhausted。
They　went　up　into　the　atrium。
“I　can　see　you　all　the　way　back　to　your　quarters；　sir；”　Darrow　said。
“No　need；　Enric。　A　little　walk；　a　little　solitude；　that　might　do　me　good。　You　should　get　to　your
own　bed。　Deck　says　we’re　needed　again　at　midnight。”
“Yes；　sir。”
“Darrow？”
“Yes；　sir？”
“This　is　off　the　record；　you　understand？”
“Yes；　Flight。”
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“When　you　get　back　to　your　billet；　pack　your　things。　Pack　them　now；　so　you　can　travel　light　and
fast。”　Darrow　frowned。　“Why；　sir？”
“Banzie　reckons　we’re　all　going　to　be　pulled　out。　It’s　not　official　yet；　but　he’s　sure　that’s　the
Navy　thinking。　Another　four　or　five　days；　and　Theda　will　be　unviable　as　a　field。”
“God…Emperor…”　Darrow　breathed。
“They’re　winning；　son。　No　matter　how　hard　we　fight；　this　sky　pretty　much　belongs　to　them。　The
Navy’s　going　to　pull　its　wings　out；　general　evac。　Move　them　to　safer　fields。”
“Where；　sir？”
“Maybe　Zophos；　the　Midwinters。　Possibly　St　Hagen。　Apparently；　Tacticus　is　evaluating。”
Darrow　felt　hollow。　He　looked　away。　The　echoing　atrium　was　empty　apart　from　other
Operations　personnel　plodding　out　from　their　shift。
“Are　we—”　he　began。　“Are　we　going　to　lose　this？”　he　asked。
“No；”　said　Eads。　“Retreat　is　a　hard　thing　to　deal　with；　but　you’ll　be　a　better　warrior；　Enric；　if　you
realise　that　sometimes　that’s　the　only　way　to　win。　Throne；　if　retreat　equalled　defeat；　then　we　might
as　well　have　run　for　the　hills　the　moment　the　land　armada　was　turned　back　from　the　gates　of
Trinity。”
“Sir。”
“I　know　it　hurts；　Darrow。　It　wounds　a　man’s　pride。　But　you　have　to　see　it　all。”　There　was　no
irony　in　Eads’s　voice。　“Retreat；　regroup；　gather　our　strengths；　try　again。　That’s　what　we’re　doing。
That’s　why　we’ve　fought　so　hard　to　get　the　land　forces　home。　So　they　can　turn　and　fight　again；
renewed。　Go　read　some　history　slates；　Darrow。　Wars　have　been　won　that　way。　And　many　others
have　been　lost　by　men　too　proud　to　acknowledge　the　sense　of　a　tactical　withdrawal。”
Darrow　nodded。
“Darrow？”
“I　nodded；　sir。　My　apologies。”
“Get　some　sleep。　I’ll　see　you　at　midnight。”
Darrow　saluted。　Eads　moved　away　across　the　marble　floor；　his　cane　twitching。　“Call　that　a
salute？”　he　said　over　his　shoulder。
Darrow　wandered　outside。　The　air　was　murky　and　stank　of　fyceline。　A　few　Operations　personnel
from　the　last　shift　loitered　around　under　the　portico；　smoking　and　chatting；　or　just　lounging　on　the
damp　steps　in　aching　relief。
He　saw　Scalter　nearby；　smoking　a　lho…stick。　Even　from　a　distance；　Darrow　could　see　how　much
Scalter’s　hands　were　shaking。　He　had　just　decided　to　go　and　confront　the　man；　when　he　realised
something。
He　drew　his　own　hands　from　his　pockets　and　looked　at　them。　They　were　shaking　too。
“Need　something？”　asked　Scalter；　noticing　him。
“No；　sir。　I’m　fine。”
“Something　wrong　with　your　hands？”
“No。”　Darrow　joined　him。　“Actually；　just　the　shakes。”
“Tell　me　about　it。　We　all　get　that。　Tension　and　fatigue。”
“Yes；　sir。”
Scalter　offered　Darrow　his　pack。　“No　thanks；　sir。”
“Heading　for　the　simulators？”　Scalter　asked。　“I’ve　seen　you　there。”
“I　might。　You？”
Scalter　nodded　his　head　at　the　airfield　before　them。　“What　do　you　think？”　he　asked。
Darow　looked　out　across　the　MAB。　Parts　of　the　field　were　shredded　with　craters　and　bulldozed
heaps　of　debris。　Along　the　east　fence；　the　wrecks　of　bombed　out　and　crashed　planes　had　been　piled
up；　simply　to　clear　usable　space。　Smoke　twisted　up　from　recent　hits。　Navy　craft　were　landing　in
flocks；　some　pouring　vapour。　Crews　rushed　out　onto　the　field。　In　the　hardstands；　the　Apostles　were
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warming　up；　munitions　trains　clattering　clear。　Darrow　heard　the　brutal；　buzzing　pulse　of　primers
starting　engines。
Beyond　the　field；　the　towers　of　Theda　itself　rose　in　crumpled　majesty。　Columns　of　smoke
writhed　from　the　city；　darkening　the　sky。　Fires　blazed。　There　were　gaps　in　the　city　skyline　where
familiar　buildings　had　been　destroyed。　Raid　sirens　were　wailing。
“I　think　I’ll　head　for　the　simulators；”　Darrow　said。
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DAY　265
Western　District　Theda；　10。02
The　intake　of　wounded　had　filled　the　infirmaries　of　Theda　to　bursting。　Jagdea　had　been　transferred
right　across　the　city　to　a　hab　clinic　in　the　Western　Districts；　a　four　storey　pile　of　rotting　brick　that
had　been；　over　the　years；　a　sanatorium；　a　refuge；　and　a　scholam　for　wayward　youths。　The　building
was　in　poor　repair。　The　air　reeked　of　disinfectant　and　mildew。
Blansher　found　her　at　the　end　of　a　long；　grim　gallery；　gazing　out　of　the　windows　onto　a　street
where　files　of　civilians　were　waiting　in　the　rain　for　travel　permits。
She　looked　pale　and　thin。　Her　left　arm　was　bound　up　in　a　heavy　sling。　Blansher　noticed　that
under　her　dressing　gown；　she　still　wore　the　trousers　of　her　flight　suit。
“Hey；　Mil；”　she　said。
“Bree。　How’s　the　arm？”
“Okay。　Another　day　or　two；　they　reckon。”
“We　miss　you。　The　wing　all　send　their　best。”
“Keeping　them　in　line；　I　hope？”
“They　wouldn’t　dare　mess　with　me。”
She　grinned。　“Want　a　seat？”　she　said；　getting　up　out　of　her　bath　chair。
“I’m　fine；”　he　said。
“Sit　down；　Mil。　You　look　fit　to　drop。　I’ve　been　sitting　all　day。”
Shrugging；　he　sat　down　in　the　old；　wheeled　invalid　chair。　He　settled　back；　elbows　out。
“So…　how　are　these　for　speed？”　he　asked。
She　leaned　against　the　wall　by　the　window　and　gestured　down　the　long；　lino…floored　hall　with
her　good　hand。　“Try　it　out。　Not　much　reheat；　but　if　you　really　push　it　you　can　achieve　lift　by　the　time
you　reach　the　dispensary。”
Using　his　hands；　he　milled　the　big　handwheels　back　and　forth。
“How’s　it　been？”　she　asked。
“We’ve　been　up　once。　A　nasty　tangle　over　St　Chryze。　Aggie　stung　one；　and　so　did　I。”
“All　safe？”
“A　hard　round　went　through　Zemmic’s　side…pane　and　snapped　his　chain　of　lucky　charms；　so　he’s
really　low。　But　yes。　All　safe。”
“Cordiale？”
“Fixed　up；　and　fit　for　the　next　sortie。”
“How’s　my　baby　Zero…Two？”
“A　mess；　Bree。　But　she’ll　live。　They’re　working　on　her　now；　but　she’ll　have　to　be　shipped　by
carrier　t—”
Blansher　stopped。　“Damn；”　he　said。　“And　there　I　was　going　to　break　it　to　you　gently。”
“Shipped　out？”　asked　Jagdea。　“Sin