友情提示:如果本网页打开太慢或显示不完整,请尝试鼠标右键“刷新”本网页!
29书城 返回本书目录 加入书签 我的书架 我的书签 TXT全本下载 『收藏到我的浏览器』
我的美母教师 | 乡村精品合集 | 乡村活寡 | 乡村欲爱 | 乡村春潮 | 乡村花医 | 欲望乡村(未删) | 乡村艳福 | 乡村春事 | 人妻四部曲

Gunheads(科幻战争)-第6部分

快捷操作: 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! 如果本书没有阅读完,想下次继续接着阅读,可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能!

trajectory; speed; wear and tear。 All of these were matters of serious concern。 The enginseers in
charge of the regimental tech…crews wouldn’t be getting much sleep。
Thinking of the strange cybernetic tech…priests; Wulfe decided they probably didn’t need much
sleep anyway。 Maybe they just popped in some fresh batteries。 The image that formed in his mind
using and disturbing。
The drop…ship was really bouncing around。 Golgotha’s atmosphere was thicker than most
populated worlds; and the pressure differentials between the planet’s hot and cold zones reportedly
made for some truly ferocious storms。 Some of the rookies looked set to soil themselves as the craft
was tossed this way and that。
Wulfe fought an instinct to tense his muscles。 It was far smarter to relax if one didn’t want to
suffer torn tendons and the like。 Such injuries were all too common during a drop。
“Altitude; seven thousand five—”
The static…ridden voice was suddenly drowned out by the most awful; ringing screech。 Wulfe
pressed his hands to his ears。 He knew that sound; knew it never heralded good news。 It was the
sound of tearing metal!
The drop…ship suddenly rolled hard to the right。 Wulfe’s head flew backwards and struck the
padded surface of the seat。 His stomach felt like it was doing backflips。 His vision dimmed。 He saw
stars。 Some of the men on the opposite row were thrown so hard against their restraints that their
gumshields flew out。 Yelled curses filled the air。
“We’re frakkin’ hit!” shouted a young trooper in a panic。 Wulfe’s heart felt like it was stuck
somewhere up by his throat。
“We’re not hit; Webber;” barked another。 “Don’t say that!”
“What the hell was it; then?” demanded someone else。 “By the bloody Eye!”
16
“Quiet!” Sergeant Rhaimes yelled at them around his gumshield。 “That’s enough of that! It’s
turbulence; you kak…eating dung…worms。 You heard the cogboy。 Buffeting; he said。 Now; pipe
down!”
Rhaimes’ lie was all too obvious。 He was trying to keep them calm; but no one was buying a
word of it。
The ship rolled hard in the other direction and righted itself; though the juddering was so severe;
now; that it was painful。 The men gripped their impact frames with white…knuckled hands。
Wulfe chanced a look up the row at Lenck and was irritated to see him sitting quietly; lips
bulging over the tell…tale bump of a gumshield; apparently unfazed。 The cocky upstart only jumped
when a noise exploded from the vox…speakers。 It was a deafening; high…pitched whine that cut off
suddenly to be replaced by the cold flat tones of the cogboy addressing them once again。 This time;
the voice was amplified to ear…damaging levels and; whether Wulfe simply imagined it or not; he
heard hints of his own panic reflected in the broken sentences。
“…concentrated anti…aircraft… storm… below… off course and… down。 All personnel… for
immediate…”
Suddenly; a great wave of nerve…searing pain blossomed in Wulfe’s head。 The whole galaxy
seemed to roll over on its axis。 Up was down; left was right。 Then everything shifted again with
frightening speed。 He shut his eyes tight; saw fireworks bursting behind his eyelids; felt his muscles
cry out in protest as his body’s limits were brutally tested; and then; with his heart battering the
inside of his chest like it wanted out…
Darkness。 Thoughtlessness。 Silence。
He sank into an unfeeling void in which even bad dreams ceased to exist。
Something stung Wulfe’s left cheek。 The pain was sharp; and; slowly; though he struggled against it;
it dragged him back from the comfort of his dark oblivion。 Half awake; he probed the inside of his
cheek with his tongue。 The flesh was ragged。 He tasted blood。 His tongue played over nearby teeth
and… Damn it! Two of them were much sharper than before。 They’d been broken。 He wondered
idly if he’d swallowed the pieces and decided that he probably had。
Next; there came a shooting pain in his eyes。 He wanted to shut them tighter; but the lids were
already squeezed together hard。 Then a shadow fell across him; and the pain dissipated。 Slowly;
carefully; he eased the lids apart and saw…
“Holtz? Is that—”
Waves of fire surged through his muscles as he tried to rise。 He grunted in pain and sank back
down。
“Easy;” said Holtz; leaning over him。 “Siegler’s gone to scare up a medic; but they’ve got their
hands full。 There were deaths; sarge。 Brebner and half his crew。 Some of Fuchs’ men。 Krauss and
Siemens both lost their drivers。 A score of lads from the support crews bought it; too。”
Holtz paused for a second。 Then; with sorrow giving way to relief; added; “By the bloody Eye;
sarge; we thought you were out of the game for good this time。 Just lie still for a bit; will you?”
They were wasted words。 Wulfe was already moving。 With another grunt of pain; he rolled to
his left and braced himself with his right hand。 His fingers pressed down into warm red sand and he
froze。
“Golgotha;” he whispered。
Holtz heard him。 “Aye; sir。 Golgotha; for better or worse。”
Wulfe paused; letting the sensation of the fine red grains filter up into his brain。 He raised a
handful of sand up in front of his eyes and watched it pour like water from between his fingers。 He
rubbed his forefinger and thumb together and noticed that the sand left a stain there; a thick smear of
dark red dust。
“Like blood;” he murmured。
17
Holtz caught only the last of these words and mistook Wulfe’s meaning。 “No bleeding; sarge;
except your mouth。 You feel like anything’s broken? If you’ll just wait for the medic。”
Again; Wulfe brushed off this advice。 Injured or not; he didn’t have time to lie around on his
back。 He lifted his head towards the horizon and; through his nose; drew a few deep; deliberate
breaths of the Golgothan air。 He immediately wished he hadn’t。 The air was thick; stung his nostrils
a little; and smelled like eggs。 Is that sulphur; he wondered; or something worse? Open sands
stretched out all around him; flat and featureless; running all the way to the shimmering distance
where land and sky seemed to melt and flow together in a mirage line that hovered above the surface
of the desert。
He turned his face and looked directly up。 The sky was heavily overcast with rich; swirling reds
and browns。 Quite beautiful; he supposed; but oppressive; too。 The cloud ceiling was very low; and
lightning flashed deep inside it; though no precipitation fell。 He detected the muted glow of the local
star; directly above him; hinting at midday; its light barely managing to struggle through。 Then he
realised how dark everything was。 Even in the middle of the day; the ambient light was only a shade
stronger than twilight on Cadia。
Holtz followed his gaze。 “According to the cogboys; we should be glad of them clouds; sarge。
They say one clear day is enough to kill a man。”
“A million ways;” Wulfe murmured。
“Again; sarge?”
“That Terraxian poet… I can’t remember his name。 He said Golgotha has a million ways to kill
a man。” Wulfe pulled himself up into a sitting position; wincing as he did so。 Holtz watched without
comment; giving up on trying to keep Wulfe still; merely shaking his head in frustrated disapproval。
“Is Siegler okay?” asked Wulfe。 “Metzger? Viess and his men?”
“Siegler and Metzger are all right;” said Holtz; “not a scratch on either of them。 Same goes for
Viess; though his driver is a bit messed up。” Absently; he reached up and rubbed the ugly;
discoloured mass of scar tissue that covered the left side of his face。 Seven years ago on a world
called Modessa Prime; a secessionist guerrilla had hit Wulfe’s tank with a shaped…charge explosive。
Holtz had been in one of the sponsons。 A fine spray of molten metal had turned him from a
handsome; confident trooper into one of the most bitter men Wulfe had ever known。 Very
occasionally; however; Wulfe saw hints of the old Holtz shining through; a bit like the Golgothan
sun。
“Eye blast it!” exclaimed Wulfe suddenly。 “Van Droi was up front with the pilot。 He isn’t—”
“No;” said Holtz; cutting him off。 “Chipped a tooth; though。 Raging about it; he is。 He was here
earlier with that damned soggy cigar sticking out of his mouth。 Se
返回目录 上一页 下一页 回到顶部 0 0
快捷操作: 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!
温馨提示: 温看小说的同时发表评论,说出自己的看法和其它小伙伴们分享也不错哦!发表书评还可以获得积分和经验奖励,认真写原创书评 被采纳为精评可以获得大量金币、积分和经验奖励哦!