Fifteen Hours(科幻战争)-第11章

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At　the　front　the　mouth　of　the　lander　lay　open；　the　primary　assault　ramp　stretching　towards　them
like　the　tongue　of　some　improbable　metal　beast。　Running　up　the　ramp　into　the　cavernous　and　dimly
lit　interior　of　the　lander　itself；　Larn　and　the　others　found　a　grim…faced　member　of　the　lander’s　crew
waiting　to　point　them　in　the　direction　of　a　nearby　stairwell。　Then；　following　the　stairwell　to　its
summit；　they　came　to　the　vast　rows　and　aisles　of　seats　of　the　lander’s　upper　troop…deck。
“Find　a　seat　and　fasten　your　restraints；”　Ferres　barked。　“I　want　you　seated　together　in　fireteam；
section；　and　platoon　order。　Any　man　who　isn’t　in　his　seat　and　ready　for　drop　in　two　minutes’　time　is
going　to　find　himself　on　a　charge。”
Hurrying　to　his　seat　Larn　quickly　sat　down；　carefully　fastening　the　buckles　of　the　seat’s　impact
restraints　across　his　waist；　shoulders　and　chest；　before　tightening　them　to　fit　him。　Making　sure　the
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safety　on　his　lasgun　was　set　to　“safe”；　he　pushed　the　gun　upright　and　butt…first　into　the　shallow
recess　of　the　weapon　holder　set　at　the　front　of　his　seat　and　clipped　the　barrel　lock　closed　to　hold　the
gun　in　place。　Then；　looking　about　him　at　the　other　Guardsmen　as　they　did　likewise；　Larn　found
himself　briefly　confused　as　he　realised　just　how　few　men　there　were　inside　the　lander。　Despite　the
fact　that　the　lander　was　built　to　house　a　minimum　of　two　thousand　men；　there　was　at　most　a　single
company　of　men　inside　it。　It　looks　like　they　are　only　dropping　my　company；　he　thought。　6th
Company。　But　that　would　make　no　sense。　Why　would　they　only　put　only　two　hundred　men　on　board；
when　this　lander　can　hold　ten　times　that？　No。　They　must　be　going　to　load　more　men　on　board。　No
doubt　we　are　just　the　first　aboard　and　rest　of　the　regiment　will　be　following　us　soon　enough。
“Ready　for　launch　in　‘T’　minus　two　point　zero　zero　minutes；”　a　harsh　metallic　voice　announced
over　a　hidden　vox…caster　speaker　as；　in　the　distance；　Larn　heard　the　slow　grinding　of　the　lander’s
assault　ramp　closing。
“Sounds　like　we　got　into　our　seats　just　in　time；　Larnie；”　Jenks　said；　as　Larn　realised　he　had　taken
the　seat　next　to　him。　“Good　thing；　too。　Never　mind　old　Ferres　and　his　threats；　I　wouldn’t　want　to　be
wandering　around　out　of　my　seat　when　this　monster　finally　gets　going。”
With　that　Jenks　turned　away　to　fasten　his　own　seat…restraints。　For　a　moment；　still　confused；　Larn
found　himself　fighting　the　urge　to　ask　Jenks　where　he　thought　the　rest　of　the　regiment　was。　Then；
abruptly；　he　realised　it　made　no　difference。　It　was　too　late　to　turn　back　now。　Like　it　or　not；　it　looked
like　6th　Company　would　be　making　their　first　planetary　drop　on　their　own。
“Ready　for　launch　in　‘T’　minus　one　point　zero　zero　minutes；”　the　voice　said　again；　as　Larn　felt
the　vibrations　of　the　lander’s　engines　grow　stronger。
“Don’t　worry；　Larnie；”　said　Jenks　by　his　side　as；　trying　as　much　to　allay　his　own　anxieties　as
comfort　a　friend；　he　turned　to　give　Larn　a　kindly　smile。　“They　say　it’s　not　the　fall　you　need　to　worry
about。　It’s　hitting　the　ground　that　kills　you。”
“Ready　for　launch　in　‘T’　minus　zero　point　three　zero　minutes；”　the　metallic　voice　continued　its
countdown　as　Larn　realised；　too　late；　he　had　forgotten　to　pray　to　the　Emperor　for　a　safe　descent。
“Ready　for　launch　in　‘T’　minus　zero；”　the　voice　said　as　the　lander’s　engines　fired　and　Larn
found　himself　feeling　suddenly　weightless。　“All　systems　ready。　Launch！”
And　then；　quicker　than　Larn　would　have　thought　possible；　they　were　falling。
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CHAPTER　FIVE
23：12　hours　Imperial　Standard　Time
（Revised　Real…Space　Close　Planetary　Approximation）
Evasive　Manoeuvres　—　Falling　and　the　Taste　of　Vomit　—　Landfall；　Death　and　Grim　Realisation　—
The　Calamity　of　Sergeant　Ferres　—　No…man’s　land　and　the　Eagle　in　the　Distance　—　Welcome　to
Broucheroc
“Bearing　one　eight　degrees　one　five　minutes；”　the　navigation　servitor’s　voice　croaked；　the
parchment…thin　tones　of　its　voice　barely　audible　in　the　lander’s　crew　compartment　over　the　roar　of
engines。　“Recommend　course　correction　of　minus　zero　three　degrees　zero　eight　minutes　for　optimal
atmospheric　entry。　All　other　systems　reading　normal。”
“Check；”　said　the　pilot；　automatically　pushing　his　control　stick　forward　to　make　the　adjustment。
“New　bearing：　one　five　degrees　zero　seven　minutes。　Confirm　course　correction。”
“Course　correction　confirmed；”　the　servitor　said；　its　yellowing　sightless　eyes　rolling　back　in
their　sockets　as　it　rechecked　its　calculations。　“Atmospheric　entry　in　T　minus　five　seconds。　Two。
One。　Atmospheric　entry　achieved。　All　systems　reading　normal。”
“Look　at　that　glow；　Dren；”　Zil　the　co…pilot　said；　his　eyes　lifting　from　his　instruments　for　a
fraction　of　a　second　to　look　out　the　view…portal　at　the　nose　of　the　lander　as　it　was　surrounded　by　a
nimbus　of　bright　red　fire。　“No　matter　how　many　planetary　drops　we　do；　I　never　get　used　to　it。　It’s
like　riding　in　a　ball　of　flame。　It　makes　you　thank　the　Emperor　for　whoever　first　made　heat　shields。”
“Heat　shields　reading　normal；”　said　the　servitor；　gears　whirring　inside　it　as　it　mistook　the
comment　for　a　question。　“Exterior　temperature　within　permitted　operational　thresholds。　All　systems
reading　normal。”
“That’s　because　you’ve　only　got　a　dozen　drops　behind　you；”　the　pilot　said。　“Trust　me；　by　the
time　you’ve　done　another　dozen　you　won’t　even　notice　it。　How’s　the　signal　from　the　landing
beacon？　I　don’t　want　to　miss　the　drop　point。”
“Beacon　signal　reading　strong　and　clear；”　Zil　replied。　“No　air　traffic；　friendly　or　hostile。　Looks
like　we’ve　got　the　sky　to　ourselves。　Wait！　Auspex　is　reading　some—”
“Warning！　Warning！”　the　servitor　interrupted；　the　whirring　of　its　mechanisms　reaching　an　abrupt
crescendo　as　it　burst　into　life。　“Registering　hostile　missile　launch　from　ground…based　battery。
Recommend　evasive　manoeuvres。　Missile　trajectory　eight　seven　degrees　zero　three　minutes；
airspeed　six　hundred　knots。　Warning！　Registering　second　missile　launch。　Missile　trajectory—”
“Evasive　manoeuvres　confirmed！”　the　pilot　said；　pressing　his　control　stick　forward　as　he　pushed
the　lander　into　a　dive。　“Servitor：　belay　hostile　trajectories　and　airspeeds　until　further　orders。　Zil；
deploy　chaff！”
“Chaff　activated。　Instruments　reading　chaff　successfully　deployed；”　Zil　said；　his　voice　growing
suddenly　hoarse　as　he　looked　at　one　of　the　screens　before　him。
“Wait。　The　chaff；　it’s　not　done　any　good。　It’s　as　though…　Holy　Emperor！　None　of　the　hostile
missiles　have　guidance　systems！”
“What　do　you　mean？”　the　pilot　asked　as　he　saw　Zil’s　face　go　pale。　“If　that’s　the　case　we　have
nothing　to　worry　about。　If　they’re　firing　blind　there’s　not　one　chance　in　a　thousand　of　them　being
able　to　hit　us。”
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“But　that’s　exactly　it；”　said　Zil；　his　voice　frantic。　“I’m　reading　a　thousand　hostile　missiles　as
airborne　already。　And　hundreds　more　are　being　launched　every　second。　Holy　Throne！　We’re　flying
into　the　biggest　shitstorm　I’ve　ever　seen！”
“Emergency　evasion　procedures！”　the　pilot　said；　barking　out　orders　as　he　pushed　the　lander
forward　into　an　even　steeper　dive　while　from　outside　they　could　hear　the　first　of　the　missiles
exploding。　“Servitor：　override　standard　flaps　and　navigation　safety　protocols　—　I　want　full　control！
Make　sure　your　strapped　in　tight；　Zil　—　we’re　going　to　have　to　go　in　hard　and　heavy！　Looks　like
this　is　going　to　be　a　close　one…”
Falling。
They　were　falling。
With　nothing　to　slow　or　stop　them。
Like　a　comet。
Falling　headlong　from　the　stars。
In　the　lander’s　troop　compartment；　slammed　back　in　his　seat　by　the　force　of　acceleration；　it　felt
to　Larn　as　though　his　stomach　was　trying　to　push　its　way　up　from　his　throat。　Around　him　he　could
hear　men　screaming；　the　sound　all　but　drowned　out　by　the　dull　thud　of　explosions　from　outside　the
lander。　He　heard　cries　for　pity　and　muttered　oaths；　all　the　while　the　skin　being　pulled　so　tight　across
his　face　he　was　sure　it　was　about　to　rip　free　from　his　bones。　Then；　sounding　much　louder　than　any
noise　he　had　ever　known　before；　there　came　the　boom　of　another　explosion　and　with　it　the　gutwrenching
sound　of　tearing　metal。　With　those　sounds　he　found　himself　forced　b