The Eisenhorn TrilogyXenos(科幻战争)-第45章

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e　birthmark　was　there；
centred　on　his　nape。
'We　haven't　got　time　for　this！'　Aemos　said。　Running　footsteps　were　pounding　through　the　building　behind　us　and　we　could　hear　shouts
and　curses。
'Where　did　you　get　this　mark？'　I　willed　at　the　ginger…haired　man。
'Kaleil　gave　it　me；'　he　said　slackly。
What　does　it　mean？
Driven　by　my　undeniable　will…force；　he　tried　to　say　something　that　the　rest　of　his　mind　and　soul　simply　forbade。　It　sounded　like　''Lith''
but　it　was　impossible　to　say　for　sure　as　the　effort　killed　him。
'Dammit；　Gregor！　We　have　to　go！'　Aemos　roared。
As　if　to　prove　his　point；　two　miners　burst　out　of　the　doorway　we　had　come　through；　aiming　autorifles。　Medea　and　I　whipped　around　as
one　and　dropped　them　both；　one　kill　shot　each。
AEMOS'S　FAULTLESS　RECALL　led　us　through　the　winding　sub…streets　of　Cinchare　Minehead　to　the　massive；　dank　bulk　of　Imperial
Allied。　There　was　a　hue　and　cry　behind　us；　mixed　with　the　whine　of　electric　buggies。
We　ran　across　the　plant's　wide；　metal　drawbridge；　through　a　rockcrete　gatehouse　festooned　with　razorwire；　and　on　down　through　the
echoing　entrance　hall。
Footsteps　followed。
THE　EXCURSION　TERMINAL　was　a　semi…circular　barn　of　corrugated　steel　overlooking　the　mouth　of　the　main　working。　Six　prospecting
pods　sat　in　oily　iron　cradles　under　the　barn's　roof。　They　were　slug…shaped　machines；　painted　in　the　silver　and　khaki　colours　of　Imperial
Allied。　Each　one　had　a　rack　of　flood　and　spotlights　mounted　above　the　cockpit；　and　several　large　servo　arms　and　locator　dishes　arrayed
under　the　chin。
'That　one！'　Medea　yelled；　heading　for　the　third　in　line。　She　was　still　trying　to　fasten　her　flight　suit　properly。　I　carried　my　jacket　and
motion　tracker。　There　had　been　no　time　to　stop　and　get　dressed。
'Why　this　one？'　I　yelled；　following　her。
'The　power　hoses　are　all　still　attached　and　it's　showing　green　across　the　board　on　the　telltales！　Unclamp　the　hoses！'

I　threw　my　stuff　to　Aemos；　who　hurried　aboard　behind　Medea　through　the　small　side　hatch；　and　ran　to　where　three　thick　power　cables
were　attached　to　the　multi…socket　in　the　flank　of　the　pod。　Just　as　Medea　had　noticed；　all　the　indicator　lights　above　the　socket　were
green。
I　twisted　the　valves　and　pulled　them　free；　one　by　one。　The　last　one　was　reluctant　and　needed　a　moment　of　brute　force。
Las…shots　spanked　into　the　hull　casing　beside　me。
I　jerked　the　hose　free　and　then　turned；　firing　back　down　the　length　of　the　barn　terminal。　The　pod's　attitude　thrusters　began　to　cough　and
wheeze　as　Medea　brought　the　craft　to　life。
Solid　and　las…shots　peppered　around　me。　I　ran　to　the　hatch　and　climbed　in。　Medea　was　at　the　helm　in　the　cramped　cockpit。
'Go！'　I　cried；　slamming　the　hatch　shut。
'Come　on！　Come　on！'　Medea　cursed　at　the　pod's　controls。　The　over…urged　engines　whined　painfully。
'Cradle　lock！'　Aemos　spluttered　desperately。
Realising　her　mistake；　Medea　swore　expertly；　eased　the　power　down　a　tad；　and　threw　a　greasy　yellow　lever　on　the　right…hand
bulkhead。　There　was　a　jarring　clank　as　the　locking　cuff　that　held　the　pod　tight　in　the　cradle　disengaged。
'Sorry；'　she　grinned。
Freed；　the　pod　lifted　out　of　its　landing　cradle；　swayed　to　the　right　as　gunfire　hunted　for　it；　and　then　accelerated　away；　into　the　lightless
mouth　of　the　mine　tunnels。
THE　UPPER　WORKINGS　of　the　Imperial　Allied　mines　were　huge　excavations　reinforced　with　rockcrete　and　filled　with　abandoned　mining
machines。　Medea　kicked　in　the　pod's　lamp　array　and　illuminated　our　path　with　hard　spot…beams　of　clear　white　light。　At　the　far　end　of
one　reinforced　spur；　the　lamps　picked　out　a　sudden；　wide　gradient　where　the　horizontal　incuts　of　the　surface　mines　began　their　descent。
Running　down　the　steep　slope　were　derelict　cable…trams　of　filthy　ore…hoppers　and　a　funicular　railway　for　transporting　workcrews　to
the　lower　faces。
Aemos　sat　behind　us　in　the　pod's　small　cabin；　reviewing　the　charts　he　had　obtained　from　the　security　office。　'Continue　down；'　was　all
he　said。
The　steep　access　bore　descended　for　about　a　kilometre　and　a　half；　occasionally　flattening　into　work…shelves　with　entries　to　side　seams。
The　view　through　the　front　screen　seemed　to　be　in　black　and　white：　the　fierce　white　light　piercing　the　blackness　and　revealing　only
pale　grey　dust　and　rock；　and　the　occasional　sparkle　of　druse。
Medea　slowed　us　as　we　passed　over　more　fragmented　and　extensive　piles　of　breakdown　and　then；　under　Aemos's　instruction；
manoeuvred　us　down　into　the　throat　of　an　almost　vertical　chimney。　This　chimney　…　a　pitch　in　mining　terms　…　was　a　natural　formation；
possibly　an　ancient　lava　tube。　Slowly　revolving　laterally；　we　hovered　down　into　it。　Flowstone　caked　the　walls　like　swathes　of　creamy
drapery　and　quilled　bushes　of　volcanic　glass　sprouted　from　outcrops。　The　space　was　small；　even　for　a　compact　pod　like　the　one　we　had
borrowed。　Occasionally；　Medea　would　nudge　or　clip　an　out　thrust　of　quills　and　the　glass　fragments　would　fall　silently；　glittering；　into
the　pit　below。
About　two　kilometres　down；　the　pitch　opened　out　into　a　complex　series　of　curving　tubes；　sub…caves　and　sumps。　It　was　like　moving　out
of　an　oesophagus　into　the　complex　chambers　of　an　intestinal　tract。　The　flow…stone　started　to　show　more　colour：　steely　blues　with
milky　calcite　swirls；　mottled　reds　glinting　with　oolites。　Flinty　black　druse　and　other　clastic　litter　covered　the　smoothed　folds　of　the
ancient　floor。
Medea　pointed　my　attention　to　the　small　scanner　box　mounted　below　the　main　petrographic　assayer。　The　little　screen　was　awash　with
an　almost　indecipherable　graphic　of　ghosting　strata　layers　and　reflecting　lithic　densities。　Three　bright　yellow　cursors　showed　clearly　in
the　upper　quadrant。
'They're　coming　after　us；'　she　said。
'They　seem　to　know　where　we　are　right　enough。　How　are　they　tracking　us？'
'Same　way　we're　getting　such　a　clean　return　on　their　position。'
'Are　the　locators　on　this　crate　that　powerful？'
Medea　shook　her　head。　'They're　fine　for　the　immediate　locality；　but　they've　got　nowhere　near　enough　gain　to　penetrate　the　rock。'
'So？'
'I　think　all　these　prospector　pods　have　high…powered　beacons；　probably　built　into　flight　recorders。　They'd　need　them　for　routine　search
and　recovery。'
'I'll　take　a　look。'
I　swung　out　of　my　seat　and　moved　back　down　the　pod；　stooping；　and　using　the　overhead　hand…rails　to　support　myself。　Aemos　was　still
at　work。　He'd　fired　up　the　pod's　mineralogicae　auspex；　and　was　running　a　complex　cross…search　for　the　spectographic　fingerprints　that
appeared　on　the　Adeptus　Mechanicus　transmissions。　He　didn't　even　have　the　scrolls　open　any　more：　the　complex　subtleties　of　the
colour　bars　had　long　since　been　committed　to　memory。
Every　few　minutes；　he　consulted　the　main　chart　and　called　a　course…correction　to　Medea。
At　the　rear　of　the　pod；　between　racks　holding　old　rebreathers　with　perishing　rubber　visor…seals；　I　found　a　small　crawl　space　into　the
engine　bay。
I　stuck　my　head　and　shoulders　inside；　and　shone　around　with　a　lamp…pack　I'd　unbuckled　from　one　of　the　rebreather　sets。　A　simple
process　of　elimination　directed　me　to　a　fat　metal　drum　clamped　to　the　underside　of　the　gravitic　assembly　and　the　housing　for　the
kinaesthetic　gyroscopes。　Adeptus　Mechanicus　purity　seals　secured　its　cover。

I　slid　back　out　into　the　cabin；　selected　a　medium　plasma　cutter　from　the　tool　web；　and　went　back　in。　The　hot　blue　tongue　of　the　cutter
sliced　the　drum's　cover　off　and　fused　its　pulsing　innards。
Back　in　the　cockpit；　I　saw　we　were　now　travelling　down　a　wide　cavern　that　was　barbed　with　oily　dripstones　and　varnished　with
incandescent　blooms　of　moon…milk　and　angel's　hair。
'They　look　lost　already；'　Medea　remarked；　nodding　at　the　scanner　box。　She　was　right。　The　yellow　cursors　were　moving　with　nothing
like　the　same　confidence。　'They　were　milling；　trying　to　reacquire　our　signal。'
WE　TRAVELLED　FOR　two　more　hours；　through　small　flask…chambers　gleaming　with　cavepearls；　across　vast　low　seas　of　chert　and　lapilli；
between　massive　stalactites　that　bit　tunnels　in　two　like　the　incisors　of　prediluvial　monsters。　Domepits　and　sumps　sheened　with
brackish　alkaline　water　and　the　smoke　snaking　from　nests　of　fumaroles　betrayed　the　fact　that　there　was　now　a　rudimentary
atmosphere：　methane；　sulphur；　radon　and　pockets　of　carbon　monoxide。　Venting　cases　from　Cinchare's　active　heart　and　the　gasproducts
of　chemical　and　gravito…chemical　reactions　built　and　collected　here；　far　below　ground；　leaking　only　slowly　up　to　the　airless
surface。　Hull　temperature　was　increasing。　We　were　now　about　fifteen　kilometres　down；　and　beginning　to　feel　the　effects　of　the
asthenosphere。
'Hey！'　said　Medea　suddenly。
She　slowed　the　pod；　and　swung　it　around；　traversing　the　lights。　We　were　in　a　gypnate　chamber　where　the　chert…covered　floor　was
scalloped　by　several　gours　formed　by　water　eons　before。　Several　side　spurs　led　away　into　tight　pinches　or　were　revealed　on　the　chart　to
pinch　out　no　further　than　twenty　metres　in。
'What　did　you　see？'　I　asked。
'There！'
The　spot…lamps　framed　a　black　shape　that　I　thought　for　a　moment　was　just　a　jagged　pile　of　boulders　and　stalagmite　bosses。　But　Medea
roved　us　in。
It　was　a　prospecting　pod；　similar　to　ours；　but　bearing　the　crest　of　Ortog　Promethium。　It　had　been　crushed　and　split　like　an　old　can；　the
stanchions　of　its　cabin　protrudi