Fifteen Hours(科幻战争)-第20章

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number　of　standard　issue　Guardsmen’s　field　rucksacks；　the　contents　of　which　the　corporal　was
currently　busy　digging　through　with　the　grim　enthusiasm　of　a　bandit　chieftain　surveying　his　latest
spoils。
“Corporal　Vladek？”　Larn　asked；　approaching　the　table。　“Medical　Officer　Svenk　said　I　should
come　see　you。”
“Ah；　more　cannon　fodder；”　the　corporal　said；　pushing　the　rucksacks　aside　to　clear　a　space　as　he
looked　up　at　Larn　with　the　glint　of　a　smile　in　his　red…rimmed　eyes。　“Always　good　to　see　some　new
grist　for　the　mill。　Welcome　to　the　902nd　Vardan；　new　fish。　Find　yourself　a　chair。　You　would　like
some　recaf？　I　have　some　brewing。”
Turning　to　the　battered　pot　of　recaf　perched　precariously　on　a　small　hotplate　beside　him；　the
corporal　produced　a　pair　of　enamel　cups　and　filled　them　to　the　brim　with　black　steaming　liquid。　He
noticed　Larn　staring　darkly　down　at　one　of　the　rucksacks　still　left　on　the　table。
“Here　we　go。　Two　cups　of　Vladek’s　special　recaf；　nice　and　hot；”　the　corporal　said。　“Sadly；　we
have　to　make　do　with　a　ground…up　concoction　of　local　roots　and　tubers　rather　than　the　real　thing。
Even　the　Emperor　himself　would　be　hard　pressed　to　find　any　real　recaf　in　this　hellhole；　and　we　all
know　he　can　work　miracles。　To　give　it　a　bit　more　kick　I　mix　in　a　tenth　of　a　dose　of　powdered　stimms
which；　incidentally；　works　wonders　for　the　flavour。　But　I　see　you　seem　to　be　interested　in　one　of　my
latest　acquisitions；　new　fish。　Though；　from　the　expression　on　your　face；　I　have　a　feeling　you’re　not
about　to　make　me　an　offer。”
“This　rucksack；”　Larn　said；　feeling　dead　inside　as　he　looked　at　the　words　Jumael　14th　stamped
on　the　side。　“It　could　have　belonged　to　one　of　my　friends。”
“I　wouldn’t　be　surprised；”　Vladek　said；　then　gestured　at　the　pile　of　rucksacks　lying　on　the　floor
beside　him。　“If　not　this　one；　then　perhaps　one　of　these　other　packs　did。　So？　What　of　it？　It　is　not　as
though　this　equipment　is　likely　to　be　of　help　to　its　previous　owners　anymore。　While　it　could　mean
the　difference　between　life　and　death　for　someone　still　living　on　the　line。　It　is　a　simple　matter　of　the
fair　and　logical　distribution　of　resources；　new　fish。　Which；　in　this　case；　means　that　the　living　get　to
keep　the　things　the　dead　no　longer　have　any　use　for。　Besides；　if　I　hadn’t　had　the　foresight　to　liberate
these　packs　from　the　bodies　of　the　dead；　someone　else　would　have。　You　would　have　preferred　I　had
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let　the　militia　auxiliaries　get　them　so　they　could　make　us　trade　for　the　contents？　This　is　Broucheroc；
new　fish。　Forget　all　that　nine…tenths　rubbish。　Here；　possession　is　the　whole　of　the　law。”
“And　if　I　was　killed？”　said　Larn；　angrily。　“Would　you　loot　my　body　as　well？”
“In　a　heartbeat；　new　fish。　Your　lasgun；　your　bayonet；　your　pack；　your　boots；　not　to　mention
whatever　medical　supplies　the　esteemed　Svenk　was　kind　enough　to　leave　you　with。　Anything　that
might　be　of　use　to　us。　But　you　needn’t　feel　so　put　upon。　It　is　the　same　for　everyone　here；　myself
included。　If　I　am　killed　tomorrow；　I　should　expect　to　have　my　equipment　stripped　and　re…allocated
before　my　body　even　goes　cold。”
“Not　much　likelihood　of　that　happening；”　Larn　spat。　“Not　with　you　sitting　warm　and　safe　in　here
in　this　dugout　while　outside　good　men　are　dying！”
“Good　men？”　Vladek　said；　his　voice　low　with　menace　as　the　warm　facade　of　moments　earlier
abruptly　faded。　“Don’t　talk　to　me　about　good　men　dying；　new　fish。　In　ten　years　in　this　stinking
cesspit　I’ve　seen　men　—　good　and　bad　—　die　by　their　thousands。　Some　of　them　were　friends　of
mine。　Others　weren’t。　But　any　one　of　them　was　worth　more　than　you　and　all　your　idiot　recruit
friends　put　together。　You　think　just　because　I’m　sitting　here　I　don’t　know　what　it　is　to　fight？　I　was
killing　the　Emperor’s　enemies　when　you　were　still　sucking　greedily　at　your　mother’s　teat。　How　else
do　you　think　I　ended　up　with　a　leg　like　this？”
Taking　an　enormous　combat　knife　from　the　table　before　him　Vladek　smacked　it　down　against
his　left　leg　for　emphasis；　the　flat　of　the　blade　making　a　dull　metallic　noise　through　his　trouser　leg　as
it　struck　his　knee。
“You　have　an　augmetic　leg？”　Larn　said；　shocked。
“Augmetic？　Phah。　The　chance　would　be　a　fine　thing！　Along　with　everything　else　bionics　are　in
short　supply　hereabouts。　This　is　a　Mark　3　Non…Motive　Prosthetic；　Left　Leg　Model。　I　had　to　barter
the　salvaged　parts　from　a　knocked…out　sentinel　for　it；　never　mind　what　it　cost　me　to　get　the　damned
apothecary　to　fit　it。　Now；　I　think　it’s　time　you　sat　down　and　stopped　your　mewling；　new　fish。　Before
I　become　so　offended　at　your　big　mouth　and　flagrant　disregard　for　my　hospitality　that　I　waste　this
good　recaf　by　throwing　it　in　your　stupid　snot…nosed　face。”
Hearing　someone　laugh　in　another　part　of　the　dugout；　Larn　suddenly　realised　the　other　Vardans
must　have　heard　every　word　Vladek　had　said　to　him。　His　face　burning　with　shame　and
embarrassment　Larn　took　a　chair　and　sat　opposite　the　corporal　with　eyes　lowered；　unwilling　to　meet
the　other　man’s　gaze　for　fear　his　cheeks　were　still　flaring　scarlet。
“Drink　your　recaf；　new　fish；”　the　corporal　said；　the　storm　of　his　anger　passing　as　abruptly　as　it
had　started。　“We　will　begin　again；　you　and　I。　Wipe　the　slate　clean。　I　know　it　has　been　a　hard　day　for
you　after　all；　and　so　I　am　willing　to　make　allowances。　It　is　not　every　day　that　a　Guardsman　finds　he
has　been　dropped　on　the　wrong　planet。”
“You　know　about　that？”　Larn　said；　stunned。　“Did　one　of　the　men　I　was　in　the　trench　with　tell
you？　Repzik　said—”
“Repzik　is　dead；　new　fish；”　Vladek　said。　“He　died　in　the　last　attack。　We　talked　about　good　men？
Well；　Repzik　was　one　of　the　best。　I　knew　him　nearly　twenty　years；　all　told。　From　back　on　Vardan；
even　before　we　were　drafted　into　the　Guard　together。　The　parts　from　the　sentinel　I　used　to　buy　this
leg？　It　was　Repzik　who　went　into　no…man’s　land　to　get　them　for　me。　Like　I　said；　a　good　man。　But
no；　to　answer　your　question；　it　wasn’t　Repzik　who　told　me　about　your　misfortune。　It　was　Kell。
Though　by　then　I　had　heard　about　it　from　other　sources　anyway。”
“Other　sources？　Who？”
The　Navy。　About　half　an　hour　ago　Sector　Command　forwarded　us　a　message　from　an　orbiting
troopship；　requesting　that　we　inform　the　Guard　company　they’d　just　dropped　that　this　planet　wasn’t
in　fact　Seltura　VII。　Apparently　they　forgot　to　tell　you　this；　what　with　all　the　excitement　of　the　drop
and　so　forth。　A　regrettable　oversight　caused　by　a　temporary　failure　in　the　lines　of　communication。
Those　were　their　exact　words　I　believe。　A　S。N。A。F。U。；　as　we　call　such　things　in　these　parts。”
“A　S。N。A。F。U。？”
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“Situation　Normal　All　Fouled　Up。　An　apt　and　well…used　acronym　here　in　Broucheroc。　Though
you　can　substitute　other　words　for　fouled　if　you　so　desire。”
“But　if　they　have　realised　their　mistake；　does　that　mean　I　am　being　reassigned？”　Larn　asked；　his
heart　grown　suddenly　hopeful。
“No；　new　fish。　Frankly；　the　fact　the　troopship　chose　to　relay　the　news　of　your　company’s
predicament　at　all　was　more　by　the　way　of　an　afterthought。　The　main　purpose　of　their　message　was
to　demand　to　know　what　the　hell　we　had　done　with　their　lander。　I　am　told　their　response　when　they
heard　the　lander　had　been　shot　down　and　would　not　be　returning　was　unrepeatable。　By　now；　they　are
likely　already　underway　again　and　far　from　this　planet。”
“So；　I　am　stuck　here；”　Larn　said　glumly。
“You　and　the　rest　of　us；　new　fish；”　Vladek　said；　bending　forward　to　delve　through　a　boxful　of
grey…black　coats　sitting　under　the　table。　“Now；　drink　your　recaf　and　we　will　see　about　getting　you
sorted。　A　new　greatcoat　in　urban　camouflage　pattern　would　seem　as　good　a　place　to　start　as　any。　It
will　help　you　blend　in　and　make　you　less　of　a　target；　not　to　mention　keeping　you　warm。　This　time　of
year　it’s　cold　enough　to　have　a　man　passing　ice　cubes　every　time　he　voids　his　bladder。　I　have　one
here　that　should　fit　you　perfectly；　give　or　take。　No　need　to　worry　too　much　about　the　blood　on　the
lapels。　I　am　sure　you　will　find　it　brushes　off　easily　enough　once　it　has　had　time　to　dry。”
Ten　minutes　later；　courtesy　of　Corporal　Vladek’s　scavenged　stores；　Larn　found　himself　the　new
owner　of　a　greatcoat；　a　pair　of　woollen　gloves；　two　f