douglashill.galacticwarlord-第4节
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Hull buckled but unbroken； and holding One forward beam…gun inoperable Navigation system planetary drive inoperable
Keill reached for the puter keys。 Report status of Overlight drive； he ordered； and other systems。
The obedient puter replied at once。 Overlight drive undamaged Other weapons systems undamaged Life support systems undamaged munications system undamaged
Relief left Keill sagging back into his slingseat。 The Over…light was intact。 The emptiness beyond space would not claim him。
He touched the keys again。 Estimate repair time for planetary drive and damaged weapons； he ordered。
E R T for damaged beam…gun nil Weapon not repairable Full replacement required E R T for navigation system six hours
He cursed softly。 Six hours！ He begrudged every moment that he was in Overlight … yet now he would need to work for six hours before his planetary drive could take him to his planet's aid。 And even then he would arrive with part of his armament out of action。
But there was nothing he could do。 No one went outside a ship in Overlight。 No repairs could be begun until he emerged into normal space； many hours from then。
Gritting his teeth； he fingered the keys again。 At least he could occupy himself usefully during the agonising wait … as legionaries were trained to do。 Begin full check of all equipment and systems； he ordered； other than damaged sector。
And he turned his full； disciplined concentration on to the laborious routine check； while his crippled ship plunged ahead through an emptiness as unknowable as the future。
Chapter three
（The dream…memories were gathering pace now； and Keill writhed in his sleep； powerless to stop his unconscious mind from forming the images that he had re…lived so often before； in horror and despair。。。）
The time of waiting had ground finally to its end； and the ships of Keill's Strike Group came out of Overlight。 They had re…entered normal space at a maximal orbital distance： legionaries did not plunge blindly into confrontations without knowing what they were confronting。
But； as Keill studied the face of the planet Moros looming and filling his viewscreen； all seemed puzzlingly calm and normal。 There was a faint； hazy aura round the image of the planet； but Keill discounted that as a possible minor malfunction of the screen； to do with the damage his ship had suffered。 Certainly his ship sensors reported no other ships of any sort within the planet's range； and no form of attack going on。
At least； then； his Group seemed to be in no visible danger。 So he sent the other ships curving away in their approach path to the planet's surface。 And he dragged on a spacesuit； trudged but on to the ship's exterior； and began with desperate speed to work on his damaged navigation system。
The puter's estimate was accurate： more than two hours later； the work was only half done。 Keill sweated and fumed as he laboured … yet his hands remained deft； controlled； and his concentration remained plete。
Until it was broken by the warning； from the puter in his helmet municator； that the sensors had picked up a lone ship； approaching fast from the planet's surface。
Keill was back at his controls in seconds； readying his undamaged weapons； examining in his screen the glinting speck of metal that was sweeping towards him。
Then it was close enough for him to recognize the blue circlet embossed on its side； and his battle…readiness relaxed。 It was one of the ships from his own Strike Group … the ship of Oni Wolda。
Keill waited tensely while the other ship slid into parallel orbit。 Then； as he expected； the municator came to life。 It did so with a cracking buzz that indicated strong interference …which might have puzzled Keill； had not the words themselves driven all other thoughts from his mind。
'Oni Wolda to Keill Randor Oni to Keill The planet is dead The whole planet Every person Every living thing Nothing left alive on the surface'
The horror took hold of Keill； stopping his breathing； seeming to squeeze his heart in its icy grip。 Even the municator paused； as if Oni herself could not find words to follow the enormity of that statement。
'Attack came with no warning Unknown radiation released over entire planet Central mand set up a beacon； before they died； to warn groups like ours But too much interference Too weak We did not pick up the warning till too late'
Too late ？ The words echoed in Keill's shocked mind as Oni went on。
'Keill Pain began in us almost at once Knew what it meant Nothing to be done Rest of Group went on to land To die on Moros with the others I came to stop you Don't know if you're safe even this far out'
Keill's face twisted； his body hunched； aching； torn with a grief that was inconsolable； a fury that was beyond bearing。 Oni's voice went on； though Keill had already anticipated the rest of the terrible message。
'This is a recording Keill I am dying too Will be dead when you hear this Go Overlight and get away Do not approach planet Nothing to be seen or done Save yourself if you still can Warn other legionaries if there are any alive
'And if you live try to find who did this evil Avenge us Keill Avenge the murder of Moros'
For a long time … too long … Keill sat motionless； while grief and horror and savage rage tore at his sanity。 But in the end some of the strength of his mind and will returned。 He forced his numb fingers to the controls； and sent his ship into Over…light。
Only moments later he re…emerged into normal space； far beyond the outer reaches of the solar system that contained his now dead and deadly world。 There he set up a beacon of his own； instructing his puter to broadcast a message on a wide and regular sweep； which would be picked up by any other late…ing legionaries and save them from the deathtrap that awaited them on Moros。
Then he went doggedly； automatically； back to the labour of finishing the repairs to his planetary drive。
The work was pleted quickly。 But even then Keill did not move away。 Blank and unmoving； he sat and stared out at space； unaware of the passage of time； trying to e to terms with the monstrous reality that had so nearly unhinged his mind。 Several times he toyed with the thought that Oni might have been wrong … or that it had not been Oni at all； but some enemy's trick … and that he should after all return and descend to Moros to see for himself。
But he always managed to resist the impulse。 It had been Oni's ship； and there had been no time for an enemy to use it for an elaborate deception。 And he knew by instinct somehow that her dying message had been real； and true。
Meanwhile his municator tirelessly broadcast his warning … but received no reply。 And a fearful thought began to grow in him … that there might never be a reply。
What if his Strike Group had been the farthest from home of any unit of the Legions ？ What if they had been the very last to arrive； and last to descend into the fatal aura of the radiation ？ That would make him。。。
The last legionary。
But as the hours passed； something else … not intuition but physical sensation； from within his body … told him that； even if it were true； that he was the only one left； it was not likely to matter to him for very long。
It seemed to emanate from his very bones … faint； but tangible and definite。
A deep…lying sensation of burning pain。
Oni's gallant attempt to save him had not worked。 Even as far from the planet as he had been； some radiation must have reached him。 A weaker dose； though； which would let him live a while yet。
How long he would have was not the most important question in his mind。 Far more urgent were the questions that bore with them the full power of his sorrow and his rage： who and why？
But the fact that he would have only a limited time to seek the answers restored him to himself； a legionary again； and galvanized him into action。
He turned his ship away from the solar system of Moros； and began the slow； frustrating process of his search。
From world to world he moved； watching； listening； asking his careful questions。 Whenever he was in space； his municator kept up its patient broadcast。 And the weeks； the months； passed uselessly。
Whoever had attacked Moros had covered their tracks well。 The news of the planet's destruction spread round the Inhabited Worlds quickly； as such news always did … but Keill could find not one grain of fact or hope within the quantities of speculation and rumour。 So he had e to Coranex； just one more stop in。 his random； desperate planet…hopping …knowing with bitter rage how rapidly his time was running out。
The pain within him had grown steadily more fierce； though in the legionary's way he had kept it firmly under control； so that no one would have guessed that he was not in perfect health。 But at last； on one of his earlier planetary stops； he had spent a few galacs to consult a space medic。
The medic made exhaustive tests。 And the gloom that settled on his brow was enough to tell Keill the results。
The radiation … from some altered isotope unrecognized by either Keill or the medic … had settled in Keill's bones。 There it was creating cellular changes and breakdowns that were surely； inevitably； killing him。
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