The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第10章

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hesitate　to　punish　them　for　transgressions。

At　the　start　of　the　next　day　cycle；　I　went　to　the　Palace；　escorted　by　Aemos；　von　Baigg　and　Thula　Surskova。　Ironically；　I　felt　vulnerable
with　only　three　companions　at　my　side。　I　had　grown　too　used　to　a　large　retinue　these　last　few　decades。　I　had　to　remind　myself　that
there　had　been　a　time　when　my　entire　retinue　would　have　numbered　three　such　people。
The　Palace　of　me　Inquisition　is　not　a　place　for　casual　or　accidental　meetings。　Inside；　it　is　a　dark　maze　of　shadowy　halls；　void　screens
and　opaquing　fields。　The　staff　and　visitors　move　privately　behind　masking　energy　fields；　their　business　confidential。　On　entry　to　the
echoing　main　hall；　my　party　was　issued　with　a　drone　cyber…skull　that　hovered　at　our　shoulders　and　projected　an　insulating　cone　of
silence　around　us。　We　were　offered　an　astropath　adept　too　to　further　ensure　our　privacy；　but　I　declined。　Surskova；　with　her
untouchable　quality；　was　all　I　needed。
The　hooded　Inquisitorial　guards；　their　burgundy　armour　threaded　with　gold　leaf　and　emblazoned　with　the　seal　of　our　Office；　led　us
across　the　black　marble　floor；　their　double…handed　powerblades　held　upright　before　them。　Glinting　brown　opaquing　fields　swirled　into
being　on　either　side；　forming　a　solid；　buzzing　corridor　of　energy　that　divorced　us　from　our　surroundings。
Alain　von　Baigg　played　with　his　high　collar　distractedly　as　we　walked。　He　was　nervous。　The　oppressive　threat　of　the　palace　affected
even　its　own　servants。
LORD　RORKEN　AWAITED　us　in　his　private　chambers。　A　void　shield　dissipated　to　allow　us　through　the　circular　doorway　and　flickered
back　to　life　once　we　were　inside。　The　guards　did　not　accompany　us。　I　told　my　trio　to　wait　for　me　in　the　austere　vestibule　where　there
were　two　cast　iron　benches　piled　with　white　satin　bolsters。
I　went　in　through　the　inner　door。
I　had　come　wearing　black；　with　a　three…quarter　cloak　of　dark　brown　leather。　My　inquisitorial　crest　was　pinned　at　my　throat。　My
companions　were　all　formally　robed　too。　One　did　not　call　on　Master　of　the　Ordo　Xenos　in　casual　attire。
The　reception　chamber　was　dazzlingly　bright。　The　walls　were　mirrors；　framed　in　ormolu　gilt；　and　the　floor　was　a　polished　cream
marble。　Thousands　of　candles　burned　all　around；　on　stands；　on　forked　candelabras；　or　simply　placed　directly　on　the　floor。　The　mirrors
reflected　their　glare。　It　was　like　standing　in　a　prism　that　was　catching　golden　sunlight。
I　blinked；　and　raised　my　hand　to　shield　my　eyes。　I　saw　a　hundred　other　men　in　cloaks　do　the　same。　My　reflections。　Multiplied　Gregor
Eisenhorns；　framed　by　twinkling　candles。　I　saw　I　looked　edgy。
That　would　not　do。
'None　may　escape　the　penetrating　glare　of　the　Inquisition's　light；'　said　a　voice。
'For　to　do　so　means　perforce　they　embrace　the　outer　darkness；'　I　finished。
Rorken　strode　towards　me。　'You　know　your　Catuldynas；　Eisenhorn。'
'His　apopthegms　please　me。　I　have　never　much　liked　his　later　allegories。'
'Too　dry？'
'Too　arch。　Too　mannered。　For　my　taste；　Sathescine　has　a　superior　voice。　Less…　bombastic。'
Rorken　smiled　and　took　my　hand。　'So　you　rate　poetic　beauty　over　content？'
'Beauty　is　truth；　and　tram　beauty。'
He　raised　an　eyebrow。　'What　is　that？'
'A　pre…Imperial　fragment　I　once　read。　Anonymous。　As　to　your　first　question；　I　would　read　Sathescine　over　Catuldynas　for　pleasure；
and　insist　that　my　neophytes　read　Catuldynas　repeatedly　until　they　can　quote　it　as　well　as　I'
Rorken　nodded。　He　was　a　compact　man；　his　head　shaved　but　for　a　short　goatee；　and　he　wore　crimson　robes　over　black　clothes　and
gloves。　It　was　impossible　to　guess　his　age；　but　he　must　have　been　at　least　three　hundred　years　old；　for　he　had　held　his　high　office　for　a
century　and　a　half。　Thanks　to　augmentation　and　juvenatus　processes；　he　looked　like　a　man　in　his　late　forties。
'Can　I　offer　you　refreshment？'　he　asked。
'Thank　you；　no；　sir。　The　nunciature　has　organised　a　busy　schedule　for　me　through　the　Novena；　so　I　would　be　grateful　if　we　could　deal
with　things　directly。'
'The　Ministorum's　nuncios　have　set　busy　schedules　for　us　all。　The　Lord　Commander　has　charged　them　with　arranging　as　much　pomp
as　possible　for　this　celebration。　And　the　Gregor　Eisenhorn　I　know　won't　be　sticking　to　their　appointments　if　he　can　help　it。'
I　made　no　reply。　That　was　a　telling　remark。
I　became　wary。　Rorken　and　I　had　a　good　working　relationship；　and　I　felt　he　had　trusted　me　ever　since　the　affair　with　the　Necroteuch
ninety…eight　years　before。　Since　then　he　had　been　pleased　to　lead　me；　guide　me；　and　oversee　my　cases　personally。　But　one　did　not
become　anything　like　friends　with　the　Master　of　the　Ordo　Xenos　Helican。
'Have　a　seat。　You　can　spare　me　a　little　time；　I　think。'
We　sat　on　high…backed　chairs　either　side　of　a　low　table；　and　he　gave　me　chilled　water　imported　from　the　chalybeate　springs　of
Gidmos。
'A　restorative　tonic。　I　understand　the　Beldame　tested　you　hard　on　Lethe　Eleven。'
I　slid　a　data…slate　out　of　my　cloak。
'A　preliminary　draft　of　my　full　report；'　I　said；　handing　it　to　him。　He　took　it　and　put　it；　unread；　on　the　table。
'Do　you　know　why　I　have　asked　to　see　you？'
I　paused；　and　took　a　calculated　gamble。
'Because　of　the　stories　that　I　am　unsound。'
He　cocked　his　head　in　interest。　'You've　heard　them？'
'They've　been　brought　to　my　attention。　Recently。'

'Your　reaction？'
'In　all　honesty？　Puzzlement。　I　don't　know　the　matter　of　the　stories　themselves。　I　feel　someone　must　have　a　grudge。'
'Against　you？'
'Against　me　personally。'
He　sipped　his　water。　'Before　we　go　any　further；　I　must　ask　you…　Is　there　any　reason；　any　reason　at　all；　that　you　think　this　story　has
arisen？'
'As　I　said；　a　grudge　is　the—'
'No；'　he　said　quietly。　'You　know　what　I'm　asking　you。'
'I've　done　nothing；'　I　said。
'I'll　take　your　word　for　that。　If　at　a　later　time　I　discover　you're　lying；　or　even　hiding　something　from　me；　I　will…　be　displeased。'
'I　have　done　nothing；'　I　repeated。
He　steepled　his　hands　and　looked　out　across　the　sea　of　candles。　'Here　is　the　way　of　it。　An　inquisitor　…　who；　it　does　not　matter　…　reported
to　me　in　confidence　a　disturbing　encounter。　A　daemonhost　made　a　show　of　sparing　a　man's　life；　because　it　thought　he　was　you。'
I　was　fascinated　and　horrified　at　the　thought。
'I　am　not　able　to　confirm　it；　but　the　daemonhost　has　been　identified　as　Cherubael。'
Now　my　blood　ran　cold。　Cherubael。
'You've　had　no　contact　with　that　entity　since　56…Izar？'
I　shook　my　head。　'No；　sir。　And　that　was　almost　a　century　ago。'
'But　you've　been　looking　for　it　ever　since？'
'I've　made　no　secret　of　that；　sir。　Cherubael　is　the　agency　of　an　invisible　enemy；　one　whose　machinations　involved　even　a　member　of
our　Office。'
'Molitor。'
'Yes；　Konrad　Molitor。　I　have　spent　a　great　deal　of　time　and　effort　trying　to　uncover　the　truth　about　Cherubael　and　its　unseen　master；
but　it　has　been　fruitless。　Ten　decades；　and　only　the　barest　few　hints。'
'The　matter　of　Cherubael's　involvement　in　the　Necroteuch　affair　was　passed　to　the　Ordo　Malleus；　as　you　know。　They　too　have　failed　to
turn　up　a　trace　of　it。'
'Where　was　this　alleged　encounter？'
He　paused。　'Vogel　Passionata。'
'And　it　thought　it　was　sparing　me？'
'The　implication　was　the　daemonhost　had　better　things　in　mind　for　you。　There　was　a　strong　suggestion　of…　a　compact　between　you
and　it。'
'Nonsense！'
'I　hope　so—'
'Really；　nonsense；　sir！'
'I　hope　so；　Eisenhorn。　Grandmaster　Orsini　has　no　time　for　radical　elements　in　the　Inquisition。　Even　if　he　wasn't　so　hardline；　I'd　not
stand　for　it。　Ordo　Xenos　Helican　has　no　place　for　those　who　consort　with　Chaos。'
'I　understand。'
'Make　sure　you　do。'　Rorken's　face　was　dark　and　stern　now。　'Your　search　for　this　entity　continues？'
'Even　now　I　have　agents　in　the　field　hunting　for　it。'
'With　any　signs　of　success？'
I　thought　of　the　Glossia…coded　message　I　had　received　the　night　before。　'No；'　I　said；　my　first　and　only　lie　in　the　conversation。
'The　inquisitor　in　question　urged　me　to　take　the　matter　to　the　Ordo　Malleus。　I'll　not　throw　one　of　my　best　men　to　the　mercy　of　Bezier's
dogs。　I　kept　the　matter　internal　to　our　ordo。'
'Then　why　the　stories？'
'That's　what　troubled　me　too。　Word　has　got　out　anyway。　I　thought　it　prudent　to　advise　you　that　the　Ordo　Malleus　might　be　scrutinising
you。'
A　second　warning　in　twelve　hours。
'I'd　like　to　suggest　you　leave　Thracian　and　get　on　with　other　work　until　the　matter　blows　over；'　he　said。　'But　your　presence　is　required
for　the　Apotropaic　Congress。'
PIECES　NOW　FELL　into　place。　The　sheer　scale　of　the　triumph　celebrations；　the　magnitude　of　the　Novena；　were　appropriate　enough；　but
the　number　of　senior　inquisitors　summoned　to　attend　was　heavy　handed　to　say　the　least。　Military　and　Ecclesiarch　luminaries　may　be
ordered　around　to　swell　such　events；　but　inquisitors　are　a　different　breed；　more　aloof；　more…　independent。　It　is　unusual　for　us　to　be
called　together　in　any　great　gathering；　particularly　by　such　incontestable　orders。　I　had　presumed　Orsini　was　throwing　his　weight
around　to　impress　the　Lord　Commander　Helican。
But　that　was　not　the　case。　There　was　to　be　an　Apotropaic　Congress。　That　is　why　we　had　been　called　here。
Apotropaic　studies　are　conducted　all　the　time　by　the　Inquisition；　and　usually　involve　one　or　perhaps　as　many　as　three　inquisitors。　On　a
larger　scale；　they　are　named　Councils