Death World(科幻战争)-第4章

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surface　of　a　new　world　and　looked　for　his　squad；　he　felt　a　thrill　of　excitement。　He　was　back　in　the
jungle—back　in　his　element。　He　knew　that；　whatever　perils　may　lie　in　store　for　him　on　Rogar　III；
they　couldn’t　be　as　discomforting　as　that　stifling　room　with　its　single　bed；　up　there　in　space。
The　trees　of　Rogar　III　were　generally　tall；　thin　and　gnarled；　but　they　grew　close　together—too　close；
in　places；　for　a　man　to　squeeze　between　them。　Their　leaves　were　jagged；　some　razor…edged—and
creepers　dangled　from　their　topmost　branches；　bulging　with　poisonous　pustules。　The　undergrowth
was　thick；　green…brown　and　halfway　to　knee　height；　the　occasional　splash　of　colour　thrown　out　in
the　shape　of　a　flower　or　a　brightly　patterned　thistle　or　patch　of　strangle…weed。　From　a　distance；　it
looked　like　any　jungle　Lorenzo　had　seen。　He　wanted　to　get　closer；　to　inspect　the　peculiar　shapes　and
patterns　of　this　jungle；　to　begin　to　learn　which　shapes　he　could　trust　and　which　spelled　danger—but；
for　now；　it　was　not　to　be。
The　drop　ship　had　gouged　a　great　gash　out　of　the　planet。　Undergrowth　had　been　flattened；　trees
felled；　branches　shorn。　Small　fires　were　still　burning；　and　creepers　twitched　like　severed　limbs　in
their　heat。
Vines　checked　his　compass；　and　received　a　navigational　fix　from　the　troop　carrier　in　orbit。　They
were　ten　kilometres　away　from　the　Imperial　encampment；　he　reported；　and　the　quickest　route　to　it
was　to　retrace　the　trail　of　devastation　to　its　source。　It　was　also　the　safest　route—for；　although
Lorenzo　saw　several　more　acid　spitters　among　the　ashes；　most　had　been　burnt　or　decapitated。　When
one　plant　did　dare　stir；　and　cracked　open　its　pink　head；　it　immediately　became　the　focus　of　eight
lasguns；　and　was　promptly　blasted　out　of　existence。
The　Catachans　proceeded　cautiously　to　begin　with；　and　there　was　little　talk。　Each　of　them　knew
this　was　the　most　dangerous　time：　their　first　footsteps　on　a　new　world；　not　knowing　the　threats　it
posed；　knowing　that　an　attack　could　come　at　any　second　from　any　quarter。　In　time；　they　would
become　familiar　with　Rogar　III—those　of　them　who　survived　these　early　days。　They　would　learn　to
anticipate　and　counter　anything　it　could　throw　at　them。　Then　this　world　would　be　no　challenge
anymore　and；　Emperor　willing；　they　would　move　on　to　another。
Lorenzo　loved　this　time。　He　loved　the　feeling　of　adrenaline　pumping　around　his　body；　loved　the
edge　it　gave　him。
For　the　moment；　though；　the　planet　was　nursing　its　wounds；　keeping　its　distance。　He　heard　more
birds　screeching　to　each　other；　but　apart　from　a　brief　flutter　of　wings　on　the　edge　of　his　vision　he
never　saw　a　single　one。　A　jungle　lizard　skittered　away　as　the　Catachans　approached。　Lorenzo
estimated　it　to　be　about　twenty　centimetres　long；　but　without　a　closer　inspection　he　couldn’t　tell　if　it
was　an　adult　or　a　baby。
It　was　almost　as　if　Rogar　III　was　watching　the　new　arrivals；　sizing　them　up　just　as　they　were
sizing　up　it。
Bulldog　Rock　was　the　first　to　order　his　squad　to　double　time；　and　Greiss　and　the　other　sergeants
followed。　Not　to　be　outdone；　another　squad　struck　up　a　cadence　call。
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A　scream　of　engines　drew　his　attention　to　the　sky；　and　he　caught　a　glint　of　red　as　the　rays　of　the
sinking　sun　struck　metal。　Two　drop　ships；　ascending；　from　a　point　no　more　than　a　couple　of
kilometres　ahead。　He　wondered　what　had　happened　to　the　third；　and　suppressed　a　shudder　at　the
thought　that　one　platoon　may　not　have　been　as　fortunate　as　his　own。
Not　long　after　that；　they　came　to　the　end　of　their　own　ship’s　trail—the　point　at　which　it　had　hit
ground。　Lorenzo　had　looked　forward　to　entering　the　jungle　proper；　but　instead　he　found　himself　at
the　edge　of　an　expansive　clearing。　It　was　man…made；　about　two　kilometres　in　diameter；　doubtless　the
product　of　many　hours　of　toil　by　Imperium　troops　with　flamers—and　yet　the　vegetation　at　the
clearing’s　edge　was　already　showing　signs　of　re…growth。
Without　breaking　step；　the　Jungle　Fighters　made　for　a　huddle　of　prefabricated　buildings　in　the
clearing’s　centre；　now　little　more　than　shadows　in　the　twilight。　As　they　reached　it；　the　sergeants
shouted　more　orders；　and　the　Catachans　formed　up　in　their　squads　again　and　fell　silent。　Lorenzo　was
aware　that　their　noisy　arrival　had　turned　the　heads　of　several　Guardsmen　who’d　been　standing
sentry。　It　had　also　given　fair　warning　of　their　approach　to　the　commissar　who　now　came　to　meet
them。
He　was　a　young；　fair…haired　man　with　pale　skin　and　ears　that　protruded　very　noticeably。　The
Imperial　eagle　spread　its　wings　proudly　on　his　peaked　cap；　and　his　slight　form　was　almost
swallowed　by　a　long；　black　overcoat。　Fresh　out　of　training；　Lorenzo　thought。　Even　Lieutenant
Vines；　not　a　tall　man；　seemed　to　tower　over　the　senior　officer　through　presence　alone。　Lorenzo
thought　he　could　see　a　sneer　pulling　at　Vines’　lips　as　he　folded　his　arm　into　a　lazy　salute　and
announced；　“C　Platoon；　Third　Company；　Catachan　XIV　reporting　for　duty；　sir。”
“Not　before　time；　lieutenant；”　said　the　commissar　tersely。　“I　assume　it　was　your　drop　ship　that
screamed　over　our　heads　an　hour　ago；　and　almost　demolished　the　very　camp　we’ve　been　fighting　to
defend？”　He　made　it　sound　like　an　accusation；　as　if　Vines　had　been　piloting　the　ship　himself。　Before
Vines　could　speak；　however；　the　commissar　raised　his　voice　to　address　the　assembled　platoon。　“My
name　is　Mackenzie。　I　am　in　command　here—and　as　long　as　you　are　on　Rogar　III；　my　word　is　the
Emperor’s　word；　is　that　clear？”
A　few　of　the　Catachans　mumbled　a　derisory；　“Yes；　sir。”　Most　of　them　said　nothing。
Mackenzie　scowled。　“Let　me　make　this　clear　from　the　outset；”　he　snapped。　“I　don’t　like
deathworlders。　In　my　experience；　they　are　sloppy　and　undisciplined；　with　an　arrogance　that　far
outstrips　their　ability。　The　Emperor　has　seen　fit　to　send　you　here；　and　I　concede　you　may　have
certain　expertise　that　will　hasten　a　conclusion　to　this　war。　But　had　the　decision　been　mine；　let　me　tell
you；　I　would　rather　have　fought　on　　the　blessed　birth　world　than　ten　from　Canak
or　Luther　McIntyre　or　whatever　hellhole　it　was　you　lot　crawled　out　from。”
“Catachan；　sir！”　hollered　Vines；　and　a　proud　roar　swelled　from　the　ranks　of　his　men。　If
Mackenzie　had　expected　to　get　a　rise　out　of　the　Jungle　Fighters；　he　was　disappointed。　Most　of　them
ignored　him；　not　quite　looking　at　him；　undermining　him　with　a　wave　of　indifference。　Woods　said
something　under　his　breath；　a　few　men　laughed；　and　the　commissar’s　eyes　narrowed—but　he　hadn’t
quite　caught　the　words　and　couldn’t　pinpoint　their　source。
“As　you　are　here；”　he　continued；　“I　intend　to　make　the　best　of　it。　I’m　making　it　my　mission　to
whip　you　rabble　into　shape。　By　the　time　I’m　finished　with　you；　you’ll　be　the　smartest　Guardsmen　in
the　Imperium。”
Mackenzie　turned　on　his　heel；　then；　and　snarled　in　Vines’　direction；　“Your　platoon　is　late　for　my
briefing；　lieutenant。　Ten　laps　round　the　camp　perimeter；　double　time。　Last　squad　back　does　another
ten。”
“With　respect；　sir…”　began　Vines；　the　look　of　contempt　in　his　eyes　suggesting　that　respect　was
the　last　thing　he　wanted　to　show。
“That　includes　you；　lieutenant。”　Mackenzie　barked—and　he　marched　away　stiffly；　into　the
largest　of　the　buildings。
Vines　took　a　deep　breath。　“All　right；”　he　said；　“you　heard　the　man。”
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The　Catachans　took　their　circuits　at　a　leisurely　pace；　and　with　a　cadence　call　that　contained　a　few
choice　lyrics　about　senior　officers。
By　the　time　they　got　to　the　lower　ranks’　mess　hall；　there　was　only　enough　slop　left　for　half　rations；
and　it　was　cold。
About　fifty　Catachans　and　a　handful　of　ogryns　from　A　and　D　Platoons　had　taken　over　a　generous
area；　perching　on　tables　with　their　feet　up　on　chairs；　swigging　from　flasks　and　punching　each　other
boisterously。　They　had　broken　out　the　hooch　to　celebrate　their　arrival；　it　had　been　brewed　on　the
troop　ship；　and　put　aside　for　a　special　occasion。　They　filled　the　large　space　with　their　raucous
laughter。
There　were　other　Guardsmen　here—they　outnumbered　the　Catachans　two　to　one—but　they　were
finishing　their　meals　in　silence；　along　one　side　of　the　hall；　looking　very　much　like　they’d　been　edged
out　by　the　newcomers。　They　wore　red　and　gold；　and　were　identified　by　their　flashes　as　members　of
the　32nd　Royal　Validian　Regiment。　To　Lorenzo’s　eyes；　most　of　them　looked　tall　and　gaunt—but
then；　he　was　aware　that　Catachan　had　a　higher　than　average　gravity；　which　made　its　people　more
squat　and　muscular　than　most。
It　didn’t　surprise　him　that　the　two　groups　had　self…segregated。　The　Catachans　were　Jungle
Fighters—elite　deathworld　veterans。　The　best　the　Imperium　had　to　offer；　they　believed。　The　rankand…
file　Guardsmen　regarded　them　with　a　mixture　of　curiosity；　admiration　and；　here　more　than　in
many　places；　outright　resentment。
Lorenzo’s　squad　picked　up　their　meals　and　took　over　a　table。　Greiss　joined　them　presently；　he’d
had　the　rookie；　Landon；　fetch　his　food　for　him　while　he’d　pumped　the　other　platoons　for　what　they’d
learned　so　far。
He　threw　a　folded　sheet　of　paper　onto　the　table。　Lorenzo　saw　the　crudely　printed　header　Eagle　&
Bolter；　and　needed　to　look　no　closer。　Another　propaganda　broadsheet；　doubtless　full　of　consoling
“news”　about　how　the　war　h