Chapter 42 Deserter
"Is anyone injured?" Perturabo glanced gloomily at the soldier who informed him. Before the other person's legs began to shake, he looked away and directed his anger at him. machine, decided to relieve its depression by repairing its broken structure with shoe soles.
"Bring the report, you can leave." He said dullly. "Let the wounded go back to Lokos. I don't need the wounded to fight yet."
After the soldiers left, he quickly kicked the machine and told it to continue swallowing paper tape, and then sat back on his steel seat, reading an incident report on a small-scale accidental injury caused by an out-of-control new laser gun conversion device.
He hoped in his heart that this was an unexpected flaw on the assembly line, rather than a huge flaw in some link of the overall industrial process, so that in the future he could say that it was not his fault - okay, Petula Bo couldn't lie to himself.
"Another mistake of mine." He muttered to himself, patted the machine that started to freeze, and began to deduce possible errors in his design based on the phenomenon described in the report.
In any case, the same type of laser pistols in the army need to be completely removed and overhauled to avoid more accidents. Since this happened to him, it is his responsibility.
He pulled several blank pieces of manuscript paper to his hand, and hung the pen in the air. He paused for a while, put down the pen, covered his face with both hands, and deeply immersed himself in a more pure thinking session.
Then, after exhaling, he tightened his grip on the pen and started calculating again from the beginning.
Not long after, Didi’s call sounded.
Perturabo was quite obsessed with having the entire interior space of a tank to himself, so at this moment he had to personally pick up other people's communications instead of assigning a guard and telling him, "You go and follow The other person told me I was busy and I wasn’t here.”
"What?" He was multitasking, preparing to replace the draft paper that had been cleared by calculations, and at the same time responded impatiently, "Which artillery exploded again?"
< br>"At least not yet." Callifon's voice sounded, "Probably not in the future?"
The pen in Perturabo's hand moved slowly on the surface of the paper.
He immediately replaced the unused draft paper and slapped the new paper on the center of the table, controlling and regretting his emotions.
Recalling the last time Morse mocked him for being more prone to soaring into the sky due to heat and expansion than Lokos's hot air balloon, Perturabo suddenly felt that there was nothing to be angry about.
"What's the matter, Kalifon?"
"Come and ask how you are, Abo." Kalifon said softly, and there was also a message from her side He heard the sound of paper turning, presumably she was also busy. "I believe that the accident was not your fault."
"You can change reality by believing in me?" Perturabo complained slightly, moving the calculation to the next step. No longer able to find any loopholes, he felt it was necessary to re-verify the theoretical formula he had summarized previously.
This is actually a pleasant process for him. There is no need to think about any twists and turns outside the market. The numbers and axioms always present an amazing precision and candor. They are not ironic. He does not deceive him, nor worship him. Knowledge is knowledge.
Callifon said quietly: "No. Harkon is among those injured."
"Such a coincidence... No, that deserter!" Perturabo reacted immediately and rushed angrily. onto his mind.
The calculations under his hands doubled again. His brain was like gears nesting in layers, and countless numbers and letters were laid out on the draft paper as accurately and quickly as printing. Perturabo spent his anger in this way.
The energy of the firearm is out of control? What a shame he could say such a thing! He clearly didn't want to participate in the battle, so he found a way in advance to lie down in the back and sleep.
Califon continued: "I know my brother. He is probably worried that you will kill him, so he tried to find a way to escape in advance."
She sighed, with more guilt in her tone: "I sincerely apologize for him, Lord of the Legion."
"Are you also worried that I will take the opportunity to kill him? I am so fearsome, So narrow-minded?"
The tip of Perturabo's pen scratched the paper and broke on the steel table.
He rummaged through the box in search of a new pen, although he knew full well that he had stored his spare writing tools in another drawer.
"No," Callifon said, "I just admitted that my brother was a deserter." This sentence made Perturabo quiet down.
He let go of his cabinet, gave the perpetually jammed machine a hard tap, and then opened the top panel. The wind took away his annoyance.
The young man imitated Morse's posture and sat down, crossing one leg over the other.
He doesn’t like this. On the contrary, he will use this awkward feeling of incongruity to remind himself to reflect from the inside out.
Carifon's voice was mixed with some soft rustling sounds, maybe it was the sleeves brushing the table, maybe it was the error of the current itself. These trivial movements are not annoying, but become a footnote to Callifon's own temperament.
"Are you wondering why, Abo?" she said.
"I just want him to fight with ordinary soldiers, and I don't want to harm him. Our technology is obviously so advanced." Perturabo said.
"But he is jealous of you. From the first time he saw you, he secretly compared you with you." Califon said calmly, as if she was not describing a brother. , but just a separate individual after stripping away private social relations.
"When you first met your father, he was actually beside him, but you didn't even look at him." At this point, Callifon smiled, "This is Harkon himself. Tell me."
"The longer you stay in Lokos, the more dazzling your glory will be. You have accomplished ten unachievable achievements before you became an adult, and your father will occasionally say that. , if the eldest son had your talent, he would have let the eldest son succeed him, instead of continuing to torture his age with power and government affairs. "
"As the years go by, you leave more and more traces in Lokos. Your endless talents have changed the entire country, which gradually caused my eldest brother to have another worry - whether my father is more important than him. Favors you."
"Me?"
"He is afraid that his father will want you to succeed. After all, Lokos is already your country in a practical and not a symbolic sense."
Perturabo was silent for a moment, "He is right."
This time it was Callifon who was surprised: "Do you want to be a tyrant?"
"I don't want him to succeed to the throne. His behavior has ruined people's goodwill; even if he returns to my army in a few days, I will drive him away."
He continued: "If possible, I hope you wear the iron crown."
Califon immediately laughed: "In front of me, there is Andos lining up under the throne."
"Not Andos, he is too friendly and kind."
"His nature is so pure. I am afraid that for my brother, a beautiful enough butterfly is worth more than a thousand An iron crown is even more valuable.”
Thinking of the overly simple and simple craftsman, the two laughed together. Compared to Harkon, Andos is really both lovable and reassuring.
Perturabo stood up and took a few pieces of paper from the top of the storage shelf: "I wrote a war declaration speech, can you listen to it for me?"
Carifon He happily agreed and joked: "How many manuscripts did you write of the speech you gave at the naming ceremony?"
Perturabo was unmoved and looked into the distance: "You can guess."
Although the end of the mountains and dangerous roads is out of sight, Perturabo's calculations told him that the fortress of Kaldis was approaching.
I highly recommend the original-style rationalization of the HE hammer "False Gods and Evil Sons", a family reunion, an empire, a big win, and a great win. You have to read it ()
(End of this chapter)