Крип / Kryp: Отряд_1.6

Chapter 6

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 08:38

After twenty-four hours of downtime, filled with the hustle and bustle of the traffic, Radial-12 moved on, slowly at first, giving modulated signals, like a huge whale scaring away small fish. Then the atomic snake accelerated, and the narrow window was filled with dull steppe scenery again, interspersed with a smattering of civilization. After some more time, the pace slowed again, and the armored train rolled on at a speed slightly faster than a good pedestrian, hour after hour, day after day.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 08:40

There was no time for boredom, Berta keep riding them all the time and the training took place, among other things, on the wide roof of the car, under the icy wind. Olga already more or less learned how to roll the cart with the cylinders and quickly replace the used tank behind the operator's back. If necessary, if every second counted, the hose could be inserted directly into the 'spare', although it constrained the flamethrower.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 08:53

Olga became better acquainted with her new colleagues. Although it could not be said that everyone became friends and the girl was welcomed into her new family. There was more of a pause, an understatement... The girl decided that most likely the squadmates were waiting for the test in the real case, which kept getting postponed and postponed.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 09:06

Things were not easy, either. Although the Priest visited the new sheep every night and preached (or rather, told her how the Imperium was organized). Some things Olga did not understand or understood with difficulty, and she was wary of asking too much detail, despite the monk's peaceful and enlightening attitude.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 09:09

The Squad was a clerical unit, but it had a paramilitary structure. It was supposed to work hand in hand with the local army and the FBI (which they called 'arbiters'), but at the same time was grounded for independent operations, and the soldiers firmly enshrined the imperative of 'no one but you, only the Emperor behind! Service in the Order was considered extremely honorable, but the staff was completed, for the most part, by force, with a mandatory period of four years of service. The company lived under barracks rule, the unauthorized absence was considered equal to desertion, and mentors and shepherds had the right to kill subordinates on the spot. That is, of course, honor and respect, but the company was more like a penal unit than anything else.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 09:15

Back on the church ship, Olga had heard some fearful stories about the monstrous, prohibitive mortality rate in the Squad, reaching almost ninety percent. But in all the time the new novice had been here, the company had only gone out on false calls, and no one had died, not even maimed. Though it could not be said that this was particularly burdensome to the girl. However, getting to know the last member of the wagon squad sobered her up a bit.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 09:16

The middle-aged man, who looked like a wildly bearded Luke Skywalker with rolled-up eyes, was called Madman. He was really a man gone mad, living somewhere in the mechanical jungle of the intermediate floor, next to a washing machine that ran without water. The unfortunate man looked like a victim of the worst kind of post-traumatic stress disorder; the squad seemed to ignore him on the one hand, while on the other they unobtrusively cherished and cared for him. It seems that the Madman was considered a blessed man and the mascot of the wagon. The question of how the poor fellow came to be in such a sad state was studiously ignored by the inmates, even the monk was silent. Olga rather quickly got used to waking up once or twice a night from wild cries of "The walls! They're coming out of the walls! The creatures on the ceiling!!.." and stopped asking unnecessary questions.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 09:25

Thus, life in the Squad managed to combine an abundance of new experiences with boredom. Frequent training, infrequent trips on false calls, monastic sermons... and that was it. Olga even tried to get unobtrusively acquainted with Demetrius, but the guy shunned her. Or rather, he shunned everyone in general, immersed in prayer or unspoken thoughts.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 09:27

Four years... Two hundred weeks, one is over, one hundred and ninety-nine more to go. Soon you'll be free with a clear conscience.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 09:29

Olga was resting after a tedious training session that had begun early in the morning and ended near noon when the 'Radial' slowed down even more and began to chime. It was a chime the girl had already learned. It meant that the armored train would now begin to maneuver through the web of rails and stop for refueling, loading, and God knows what else.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 09:32

Her legs and shoulders ached from the heavy 'IIFS'. Crybaby made his assistant carry the flamethrower as a skill development exercise. The device was so bulky and heavy that it was not easy even for a man to carry it, so the whole set of flamethrowers or chemical sprayers included a rather complicated system of suspension and stabilization. If everything was properly put on and fitted, it wasn't so difficult to use the weapon. It was still hard, though.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 09:46

The armored train stopped. Olga kneaded her aching right calf and thought that the amazing thing was that, although it was not forbidden, no one went to visit each other. Each wagon lives its own life, not communicating with the people around it.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 09:48

And why? It was unclear. However, she was already used to the fact that many things in the Empire have no logical explanation. They simply are what they are, and there is no use discussing or criticizing them. Why, for example, is crappy coffee called 'rekaf', there is no vodka, and tea is considered a barbaric drink akin to moonshine? And because. It just is.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 09:50

The girl opened the flap on the window to look out at the sun. The local star was dim. At its brightest noon it seemed like dusk outside, but still some variety.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 09:55

Oh, interesting... it seems to be a station or some kind of terminal. The 'Radial' moved again and slowly drove into some kind of metal forest, where iron trusses, concrete columns, and chaotically designed crosswalks were abundant. All very utilitarian, not at all passenger-friendly. The armored train rolled along a wide, curving semicircle track toward a huge structure that looked like a control tower in the form of a wide tablet with two 'legs' on either side of the railroad track. The train had to pass under it, moving into the mouth of the concrete complex, which looked like a scattering of huge cubes.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 09:58

"The Emperor protects," the girl muttered, watching the orange and yellow display of dispatchers (or whatever it was) approaching. Above the 'tablet' loomed a gun turret with a machine gun twin and something suspiciously resembling a giant flamethrower's nozzle. She wondered what would happen next, but the lamps under the ceiling blinked three times. This was the sign Olga had already learned - the demand to wall up tightly in the train, to cover all the windows, and not to stick her head out. The girl shrugged her shoulders, slid the armored plate, and conscientiously screwed all the locking screws. Then she went to the galley for lunch.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:04

The cook was usually Crybaby, about whom they joked, without malice, that he didn't even need to salt his food, just needed to sob a little over the pots. Indeed, the elf-like flamethrower never took off his long scarf and almost always either cried openly or wrinkled in readiness to burst into tears. Olga decided that it was most likely a consequence of many generations of adaptation to some planetary conditions - increased tear production and flushing of the ocular apparatus.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:33

"Here," Crybaby sniffed his nose and poured into Olga's bowl a ladleful of what looked like cooked pea concentrate. There was meat in the mixture that looked like a stew. The girl already knew that it was a kind of 'groks,' but prudently did not ask what it was, reasoning that what the eyes do not see, the stomach is not afraid.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:34

From the dark corner of the common compartment Savlar angrily flashed his eyes, Olga pretended not to notice. The girl generally concluded that the noseless man was an impostor and just a chatterbox. There was no real 'imprisonment' about him, no sense of the leaky attic of a real prisoner from a real infernal penal colony.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:36

The train shuddered and stopped. The jolt almost made Olga drop her bowl. Steam hissed and something rattled on the armor plating. Devouring a hot lunch, the novice sadly remembered that today it was her turn to wash dishes. There was no breakfast due to the training, but now there would be something to do.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:38

"I will help."

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:38

The Holy Man spoke infrequently, but always in a serious and relevant way.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:39

"Thank you," Olga thanked, picking up the empty bowls. One good thing was that all the squaddies clearly had a hungry past, so the used dishes always shone like licked, not a crumb on the bottom. Less work for the dutyman. It's a pity that washing is not mechanized, although there is a cleaning robot, for example, here, that rolls around and cleans as it should, even knows how to clean the bathroom.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:40

Savlar neglectfully tossed her a bowl with the words:

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:41

"Take it."

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:41

Olga leaned toward him, pretending to grab a stack of dishes more comfortably, and quietly promised:

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:47

"If you bark again, I'll put a pot over your ears."

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:48

The convict wrinkled his already ugly face into a very unimaginative face and remained silent. The pseudo-criminal's face still hadn't healed from the encounter with the regicide board and fingernails, which pleased Olga. It's good when bad people suffer.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:49

Not too deftly, but diligently acting with a hose with a weak stream of warm water, the washerwoman as if casually, in passing, asked the volunteer helper:

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:50

"And where are we?"

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 14:50

"On radial line number twelve," replied the Holy Man, wiping another bowl with a towel."

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 15:11

Olga was quiet, trying to think up the next question. Well, yes... It makes sense - the train with the name 'Radial-12' runs on the appropriate line.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 15:12

"We're refueling today," the Holy One looked critically at the pot. Crybaby as the cook was pretty good, but every time he got something burned. The long-haired trooper waved his head, brushed aside the annoying strand of liquid gray hair, and reached for the brush.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 15:40

"Don't go to bed tonight. Go over to Sinner's, he'll give you a thermos of recaf. He knows how to brew it so that you can't sleep a wink. And close to sunset, say your prayers properly. Better go to your shepherd, see if he'll prescribe flagellation. Of course, the Madman will recite for us all night, and the Sinner will whip. But anyway. It'll be easier."

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 15:54

It took the girl half a minute to remember the meaning of the word 'flagellation,' then she stared into the sink full of slushy foam so as not to reveal herself with a mournful grimace. It seemed to fail, but the Holy One mistook the expression of disgust for fear and explained:

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 16:33

"We'll drive by the edge of the coast where it all happened "then."

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 16:37

"I don't know what happened," Olga reported quietly, mechanically watering the plate. "I wasn't there."

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 16:44

The Holy One was supposed to give some kind of clarification, but he only scraped the bottom of the pot with a stiff brush, limiting himself to a short one:

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 16:46

"It's for the best."

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 16:46

/Fuck you - offended Olga, feeling a slight prick of conscience for swearing at an assistant, and a voluntary one at that. As the minutes passed, curiosity overcame her. Finally, the girl mustered her courage and decided to ask what the misfortune that happened and why it is better not to sleep during the day. But she didn't make it in time.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 16:48

First, the speaker of the intra-train communication shrieked. It wheezed a little, warming up, and then the voice of the train commander, aka the company commander, a heavenly man whom Olga had never seen before, sounded all over 'Radial'. The Commandant, in the voice of a not too malicious but grouchy old man, announced that the day's training was canceled and that everyone should fortify their spirits, prepare for vigils and pray in anticipation of known events. For, as we know, the Emperor protects. Aquila portrayed Olga already mechanically, with the experience of a seasoned cultist, without retreating from her comrades-in-arms. Only the dropped bowl rattled in the iron sink.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 16:59

Next, the commandant announced the cancellation of dinner, an all-train prayer at nine o'clock in the evening, and an all-night candlelight vigil for the chosen intercessors. He finished with a not quite clear, but ominous clause about the necessary readiness of mentors to be at arms, to reinforce discipline and 'interrupt excesses,' and then his speech was drowned in the growing rustle of static.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 17:00

"There, you see," said the Holy One, as if the conversion had cleared everything up. "Everything is clear."

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 17:01

"Well, yeah," Olga thought it best to agree. "It couldn't be clearer..."

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 17:24

A quarter of an hour later, all the dishes were shining in the lattice racks, and towels were drying on the radiators. And Olga thought that thank the Emperor, she had some breadcrumbs stashed away for a rainy day, so that the nullification of dinner would not be so sad. And, again, no dishes to wash. The main thing was not to be written up as a "chosen protector".

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 17:27

Meanwhile, the thunder and clattering outside continued. The sinner, silent as ever, took his customary place in the corner, under the image of the Emperor. With touching care and concern he refilled the oil in the lamps and lit a new candle, complete with the symbols of faith. Taking a special brush, he brushed the non-existent dust from the parchment scrolls around the luminous image of the lord of the universe. He knelt down, threw a thick knitted shawl over his head like a penitent sinner. And again, as always, he began to bang his forehead against the wall. Olga once again caught herself thinking that it must look very comical... but it didn't. It was the utter seriousness with which the Sinner performed the rituals. And the seriousness with which the others took his regular exercises.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 17:31

Another day... not the best day of her life, but, let's face it, not the worst. Feeling a pleasant heaviness in her belly and a tolerable pain in her legs, she remembered to check the cart and the hose, just in case. So she turned around and went to the ladder and then to the lower level, to the garage and workshop.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 17:35

On the garage level, as usual, there was activity going on. The Priest intended to dilute the acid with reagent before all the usefulness was lost in the sludge. The driver demanded, in a loud and very high voice, that the Chimera should be sent to some clerics, because the machine spirit had not received proper care for a long time, was withering and sad. And in general, the promethium from the 'black-north-twenty' is not promethium, but urine, which makes the spirit even sadder. The girl did not immediately react to the approaching sound of heavy leisurely footsteps. Perhaps because the other squad members continued to quietly go about their current affairs, as if nothing had happened. Only when two grotesque figures entered through the vestibule with heavy armored flaps, Olga realized that something amazing was to come.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 17:48

Servitors. In her long months of living in a crazy world, Olga had rarely encountered anything more disgusting. And her companions on their hard work still smiled, regularly recalling the scream of "zombie!!!" that the girl let out the moment she realized that the servitor was not a robot decorated as a dead man, but rather the opposite - a dead man made to look like a robot.

Camrad_RIP 14.11.21 в 17:56