Fifteen Hours(科幻战争)-第3章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


little。
A　sea　of　blood。
And；　try　as　hard　as　he　might；　he　could　read　no　good　omen　in　that　sign。
By　the　time　Larn　had　put　his　tools　away；　the　sun　had　all　but　set。　Leaving　the　barn　behind；　he　walked
towards　the　farmhouse；　the　yellow　glow　of　lamplight　barely　visible　ahead　of　him　through　the　slats　of
the　wooden　shutters　now　closed　over　the　farmhouse　windows。　Stepping　onto　the　porch　Larn　lifted
the　latch　to　the　front　door　and　walked　inside；　carefully　removing　his　boots　at　the　threshold　so　as　not
to　track　mud　from　the　fields　into　the　hallway。　Then；　leaving　the　boots　just　inside　the　doorway；　he
walked　down　the　hall　towards　the　kitchen；　unconsciously　making　the　sign　of　the　aquila　with　his
fingers　as　he　passed　the　open　door　of　the　sitting　room　with　its　devotional　picture　of　the　Emperor
hung　over　the　fireplace。
Reaching　the　kitchen　he　found　it　deserted；　the　smell　of　woodsmoke　and　the　delicious　aromas　of
all　his　favourite　foods　rising　from　the　pans　simmering　on　the　stove。　Roasted　xorncob；　boiled　derna
8
beans；　alpaca　stew　and　taysenbeny　pie：　together；　the　dishes　of　the　last　meal　he　would　ever　eat　at
home。　Abruptly　it　occurred　to　him；　in　whatever　years　of　his　life　might　yet　come；　those　selfsame
aromas　would　forever　now　be　linked　with　a　feeling　of　desperate　sadness。
Ahead；　the　kitchen　table　was　already　laid　out　with　plates　and　cutlery　ready　for　the　meal。　As　he
stepped　past　the　table　toward　the　sink；　he　remembered　returning　from　the　fields　two　nights　earlier　to
find　his　parents　sitting　in　the　kitchen　waiting　for　him；　the　black…edged　parchment　of　the　induction
notice　lying　mutely　on　the　table　between　them。　From　the　first　it　had　been　obvious　they　had　both
been　crying；　their　eyes　red　and　raw　from　grief。　He　had　not　needed　to　ask　them　the　reason　for　their
tears。　Their　expressions；　and　the　Imperial　eagle　embossed　on　the　surface　of　the　parchment；　had　said
it　all。
Now；　as　he　moved　past　the　table　Larn　spotted　the　same　parchment　lying　folded　in　half　on　top　of
one　of　the　kitchen　cupboards。　Diverted　from　his　original　intentions；　he　walked　towards　it。　Then；
picking　up　the　parchment　and　unfolding　it；　he　found　himself　once　more　reading　the　words　written
there　below　the　official　masthead。
Citizens　of　Jumael　IV；　the　parchment　read。　Rejoice！　In　accordance　with　Imperial　Law　and　the
powers　of　his　Office；　your　Governor　has　decreed　two　new　regiments　of　the　Imperial　Guard　are　to　be
raised　from　among　his　people。　Furthermore；　he　has　ordered　those　conscripted　to　these　new
regiments　are　to　be　assembled　with　all　due　haste；　so　that　they　may　begin　their　training　without　delay
and　take　their　place　among　the　most　Holy　and　Righteous　armies　of　the　Blessed　Emperor　of　All
Mankind。
From　there　the　parchment　went　on　to　list　the　names　of　those　who　had　been　conscripted；　outlining
the　details　of　the　mustering　process　and　emphasising　the　penalties　awaiting　anyone　who　failed　to
report。　Larn　did　not　need　to　read　the　rest　of　it　—　in　the　last　two　days　he　had　read　the　parchment　so
many　times　he　knew　the　words　by　heart。　Yet　despite　all　that；　as　though　unable　to　stop　picking　at　the
scab　of　a　half…healed　wound；　he　continued　to　read　the　words　written　on　the　parchment　before　him。
“Arvin？”　He　heard　his　mother’s　voice　behind　him；　breaking　his　chain　of　thought。　“You　startled
me；　standing　there　like　that。　I　didn’t　hear　you　come　in。”
Turning；　Larn　saw　his　mother　standing　beside　him；　a　jar　of　kuedin　seeds　in　her　hand　and　her
eyes　red　with　recently　dried　tears。
“I　just　got　here；　Ma；”　he　said；　feeling　vaguely　embarrassed　as　he　put　the　parchment　back　where
he　had　found　it。　“I　finished　my　chores；　and　thought　I　should　wash　my　hands　before　dinner。”
For　a　moment　his　mother　stood　there　quietly　staring　at　him。　Facing　her　in　uncomfortable　silence；
Larn　realised　how　hard　it　was　for　her　to　speak　at　all　now　she　knew　she　would　be　losing　him
tomorrow。　It　lent　their　every　word　a　deeper　meaning；　making　even　the　most　simple　of　conversations
difficult　while　with　every　instant　there　was　the　threat　that　a　single　ill…chosen　word　might　release　the
painful　tide　of　grief　welling　up　inside　her。
“You　took　your　boots　off？”　she　said　at　last；　retreating　to　the　commonplace　in　search　of　safety。
“Yes；　Ma。　I　left　them　just　inside　the　hallway。”
“Good；”　she　said。　“You’d　better　clean　them　tonight；　so　as　to　be　ready　for　tomorrow…”　At　that
word　his　mother　paused；　her　voice　on　the　edge　of　breaking；　her　teeth　biting　her　lower　lip　and　her
eyelids　closed　as　though　warding　off　a　distant　sensation　of　pain。　Then；　half　turning　away　so　he　could
no　longer　see　her　eyes；　she　spoke　again。
“But　anyway；　you　can　do　that　later；”　she　said。　“For　now；　you’d　better　go　down　to　the　cellar。
Your　Pa’s　already　down　there　and　he　said　he　wanted　to　see　you　when　you　got　back　from　the　fields。”
Turning　further　away　from　him　now；　she　moved　over　to　the　stove　and　lifted　the　lid　off　one　of　the
pans　to　drop　a　handful　of　kuedin　seeds　into　it。　Ever　the　dutiful　son；　Larn　turned　away。　Towards　the
cellar　and　his　father。
The　cellar　steps　creaked　noisily　as　Larn　made　his　way　down　them。　Despite　the　noise；　at　first　his
father　did　not　seem　to　notice　his　approach。　Lost　in　concentration；　he　sat　bent　over　his　workbench　at
9
the　far　end　of　the　cellar；　a　whetstone　in　his　hand　as　he　sharpened　his　wool…shears。　For　a　moment；
watching　his　father　unawares　as　he　worked；　Larn　felt　almost　like　a　ghost　—　as　though　he　had　passed
from　his　family’s　world　already　and　they　could　no　longer　see　or　hear　him。　Then；　finding　the　thought
of　it　gave　him　a　shiver；　he　spoke　at　last　and　broke　the　silence。
“You　wanted　to　see　me；　Pa？”
Starting　at　the　sound　of　his　voice；　his　father　laid　the　shears　and　the　whetstone　down　before
turning　to　look　towards　his　son　and　smile。
“You　startled　me；　Arv；”　he　said。　“Zell’s　oath；　but　you　can　ind　to。　So；
did　you　manage　to　fix　the　pump？”
“Sorry；　Pa。”　Larn　said。　“I　tried　replacing　the　starter　and　every　other　thing　I　could　think　of；　but
none　of　it　worked。”
“You　tried　your　best；　son；”　his　father　said。　“That’s　all　that　matters。　Besides；　the　machine　spirits
in　that　pump　are　so　old　and　ornery　the　damned　thing　never　worked　right　half　the　time　anyway　I’ll
have　to　see　if　I　can　get　a　mechanician　to　come　out　from　Ferrasville　to　give　it　a　good　look…over　next
week。　In　the　meantime；　the　rain’s　been　pretty　good　so　we　shouldn’t　have　a　problem。　But　anyway；
there　was　something　else　I　wanted　to　see　you　about。　Why　don’t　you　grab　yourself　a　stool　so　the　two
of　us　men　can　talk？”
Pulling　an　extra　stool　from　beneath　the　workbench；　his　father　gestured　for　him　to　sit　down。
Then；　waiting　until　he　saw　his　son　had　made　himself　comfortable；　he　began　once　more。
“I　don’t　suppose　I　ever　told　you　too　much　about　your　great…grandfather　before；　did　I？”　he　said。
“I　know　he　was　an　off…worlder；　Pa。”　Larn　said；　earnestly。　“And　I　know　his　name　was　Augustus；
same　as　my　middle　name　is。”
“True　enough；”　his　father　replied。　“It　was　a　tradition　on　your　great…grandfather’s　world　to　pass
on　a　family　name　to　the　first…born　son　in　every　generation。　Course；　he　was　long　dead　by　the　time
you　were　born。　Mind　you；　he　died　even　before　I　was　born。　But　he　was　a　good　man；　and　so　we　did　it
to　honour　him　all　the　same。　A　good　man　should　always　be　honoured；　they　say；　no　matter　how　long
he’s　been　dead。”
For　a　moment；　his　face　grave　and　thoughtful；　his　father　fell　silent。　Then；　as　though　he　had　made
some　decision；　he　raised　his　face　up　to　look　his　son　clearly　in　the　eye　and　spoke　again。
“As　I　say；　your　great…grandfather　was　dead　long　before　I　could　have　known　him；　Arvie。　But
when　I　was　seventeen　and　just　about　to　come　of　age　my　father　called　me　down　into　this　cellar　and
told　me　the　tale　of　him　—　just　like　I’m　about　to　tell　you　now。　You　see；　my　father　had　decided　that
before　I　became　a　man　it　was　important　I　knew　where　I　came　from。　And　I’m　glad　he　did；　cause　what
he　told　me　then　has　stood　me　in　good　stead　ever　since。　Just　like　I’m　hoping　that　what　I’m　going　to
tell　you　now　will　stand　you　in　good　stead　likewise。　Course；　with　what’s　happened　in　the　last　few
days　—　and　where　you’re　bound　for　—　I’ve　got　extra　reasons　for　telling　it　to　you。　Reasons　that；
Emperor　love　him；　my　own　father　never