Ice Guard(科幻战争)-第11部分

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clawing　at　his　throat　—　but　Pozhar　wasn’t　about　to　be　knocked　down　by　another　of　these　things；　and
although　he　was　forced　onto　his　back　foot；　he　remained　upright　and　jabbed　at　the　creature’s　stomach
with　his　bayonet。
“Listen；”　it　rasped；　switching　its　grip　to　Pozhar’s　lasgun；　twisting　it　so　that　it　pointed　away　from
them　both；　“Trying　to…　help。　I　know　where　Confessor…　Confessor　Wollkenden！　Can　take　you。”
The　mutant’s　breath　was　hot　and　fetid　in　his　face；　and　he　recoiled　from　it；　lost　hold　of　his　gun；
panicked　as　he　began　to　fear　that　he　wasn’t　strong　enough　to　pass　this　test　after　all。
“You　expect　me　to　trust　you？”　he　yelled。　“You’re　a　filthy　stinking　mutant；　and　I　won’t　listen　to
you；　I　won’t　be　corrupted；　I　won’t！”
Somehow；　he　found　the　strength　to　hurl　his　foe　away　from　him；　and　he　leapt　for　his　gun；　lying　in
the　snow。　The　mutant　leapt　for　it　too；　but　Pozhar　got　there　first。　He　grabbed　the　gun；　rolled　onto　his
back；　and　he　fired；　striking　the　mutant　again　in　the　chest；　and　then　in　the　stomach；　widening　its
bayonet　wound。
It　was　losing　too　much　blood；　It　couldn’t　survive。　But　it　was　still　fighting。　It　came　at　Pozhar　with
a　roar　of　rage；　its　eyes　a　blazing　red；　and　he　knew　that　he　couldn’t　fend　it　off　again。　He　knew　it
would　kill　him；　but　that　was　all　right　because　he　had　killed　it　first　and　would　die　a　pure　man。　The
mutant　was　on　top　of　him；　pinning　his　good　arm；　and　it　brought　up　its　talons　to　strike；　to　tear　out　his
throat。
Then　it　hesitated；　and　the　fire　in　its　eyes　died　out；　and　when　it　next　spoke　its　words　were　more
lucid　than　they　had　been。
“A　few　months　ago；”　said　the　mutant　sadly；　“I　would　have　tried　to　kill　me　too。”
“Don’t　you　dare　say　that！”　hissed　Pozhar。　“Don’t　you　dare　try　to　say　that　I’m　anything　like　you。
And　don’t　stay　your　hand；　I　don’t　want　your…　your　pity。　Kill　me！”
But　instead；　the　mutant　died；　and　Pozhar　let　out　a　howl　of　frustration。　He　punched　and　kicked　at
it　until　it　rolled　off　him；　and　then　stood　and　drove　his　lasgun　butt　into　the　creature’s　corpse　again　and
again；　shattering　its　bones。
He　only　stopped　when　he　was　exhausted。　He　looked　down　at　the　mutant’s　staring　red　eyes
seeming　to　accuse　him　even　now；　and　he　felt　the　itch　on　his　right　hand　spreading；　crawling　up　his
arm。　His　right　glove　had　come　adrift　from　his　greatcoat　sleeve；　and　he　was　sickened　by　the　sight　of
grey　fur　bristling　in　the　gap。　He　pulled　up　the　glove　quickly；　and　buried　the　hand　in　its　sling　to
conceal　it　more　fully。　He　could　almost　have　cried。　Hadn’t　he　done　what　the　Emperor　had　asked　of
him？　It　wasn’t　his　fault　that　the　mutant　had　stopped　fighting；　hadn’t　challenged　him　fully。　Pozhar
had　expected　redemption；　but　instead　he　felt　empty。
And　that　was　how　Steele　and　the　others　found　him；　a　short　time　later：　standing　over　the　fallen
mutant；　staring　down　at　it；　unable　to　tear　his　gaze　away　from　it；　unable　to　answer　the　one　burning
question；　the　unthinkable　question；　in　his　thoughts。
Is　that　my　future？
Iota　Hive　was　a　little　smaller　than　Alpha；　and　yet　still　it　dwarfed　the　Ice　Warriors　as　they　emerged
from　the　hills　into　its　shadow。　Its　size　fooled　Mikhaelev；　making　him　think　that　the　hive　was　closer
than　it　was。　And　the　closer　they　got　to　it；　the　larger　—　and　the　further　away　—　it　seemed　to　grow。
Even　so；　he　could　already　smell　the　rank　purple　fungus　that　encrusted　its　iced…over　surfaces。
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It　looked　as　if　the　hive　had　been　abandoned　a　long　time　ago　to　the　uncaring　elements。　If　only；
Mikhaelev　thought；　that　could　have　been　the　case。
There　was　a　breach　in　the　hive’s　blackstone　outer　wall；　but　Steele　steered　his　squad　well　clear　of
this　after　Palinev　sighted　through　his　field　goggles　and　reported　that　he　saw　figures　moving　amid　the
wreckage。
The　hive　stopped　growing　at　last；　and　the　great　wall　filled　Mikhaelev’s　field　of　vision。　The　Ice
Warriors　tucked　themselves　in　against　it；　careful　not　to　touch　the　reeking　ice；　and　Steele　led　the　way
along　the　sheer　black　face。　It　soon　became　evident　to　Mikhaelev　that　they　were　making　for　the
breach　after　all。
Not　long　after　that；　the　colonel　motioned　to　his　squad　to　be　silent　and　still。　They　were　nearing
their　goal；　he　said；　although　Mikhaelev　had　no　way　of　seeing　this　for　himself。　Presumably；　Steele’s
augmetics　had　helped　him　calculate　the　distance　to　the　breach。
“We　don’t　know　how　many　guards　there　might　be　in　there；”　said　the　colonel；　“but　as　always　it
only　takes　one　to　raise　the　alarm。”
“Fortunately；”　said　Gavotski；　“we　still　have　surprise　on　our　side。　If　anyone　had　seen　us　coming；
I’m　sure　we　would　know　about　it　by　now。”
“We’re　a　long　way　behind　enemy　lines；”　said　Blonsky。　“Those　guards　have　every　reason　to　be
complacent；　to　have　let　their　attention　wonder。　We　all　know　that　the　followers　of　Chaos　lack　selfdiscipline。”
A　couple　of　the　others　murmured　their　agreement；　and　Mikhaelev　joined　in　belatedly。
After　what　Blonsky　had　said　about　him　last　night；　after　the　number　of　suspicious　glares　he　had
drawn　today；　he　thought　it　wise　to　display　his　enthusiasm　for　their　cause。
“What　we　need；”　said　Gavotski；　“is　for　a　couple　of　troopers　to　scout　ahead；　to　take　out　the
sentries　without　being　seen　if　they　can。　Palinev　should　be　one。”
“I　can　do　that！”　Pozhar　chirped　up。　Seeing　Gavotski’s　doubtful　look；　he　said；　“It　makes　sense；
sergeant。　After　Palinev；　I’m　the　lightest　on　his　feet　—　and　I　know　what　you’re　thinking；　you’re
thinking　this　sling　will　slow　me　down；　but　I’m　getting　used　to　it。　I　know　I’m　having　trouble　shooting
with　my　left　hand；　but　I　can　handle　a　knife　with　it；　just　let　me　show　you。”
The　look　on　his　face　was　imploring；　almost　desperate　—　and　Gavotski　gave　Pozhar　a　long；
appraising　stare；　and　then　glanced　at　Steele；　before　he　made　his　decision　and　announced　it　with　a
curt　nod　of　his　head。
Mikhaelev　thought　that　he　had　made　a　mistake。　Pozhar　was　too　impatient　for　a　job　like　this　one。
He　had　volunteered　for　no　other　reason　than　that　he　wanted　some　action；　and　nothing　would　get　in
the　way　of　that　for　him。　But　then　this　wasn’t　the　first　time　Gavotski　had　shown　a　soft　spot　for　the
young　trooper　—　and　the　last　thing　Mikhaelev　could　afford　to　do　right　now　was　question　that。
In　the　event；　his　pessimism　was　proved　ill…founded。　Only　a　few　minutes　after　Palinev　and　Pozhar
had　slipped　away；　the　latter　returned　beaming　from　ear　to　ear；　to　report　that　there　had　been　four
cultists　on　sentry　duty　and　that　they　had　all　been　despatched。　Steele　motioned　the　squad　forwards
again；　and　soon　the　black　wall　beside　them　fell　away；　and　they　were　climbing　over　rubble。
There　were；　indeed；　four　robed　corpses　at　the　entrance。　It　looked　as　if　the　cultists　had　been
playing　cards　when　Palinev　and　Pozhar　had　got　the　drop　on　them　and　slashed　two　of　their　throats。　A
third　cultist　had　struggled；　and　had　had　his　neck　broken。　The　fourth　had　evidently　tried　to　run；　and
had　been　brought　down　by　a　knife　to　the　back。
“We　should　try　to　hide　the　bodies；”　said　Anakora。　“Then；　if　anyone　comes　by；　they　might
assume　that　these　guards　have　just　deserted　their　post。”
They　were　inside　the　hive　at　last　—　Mangellan’s　hive；　as　it　was　now。
From　now　on；　thought　Mikhaelev　gloomily；　things　could　only　get　a　great　deal　more　dangerous。
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CHAPTER　ELEVEN
Time　to　Destruction　of　Cressida：　20。32。13
From　the　outside；　Iota　Hive　had　seemed　relatively　intact。
Inside；　it　was　a　different　story。　Hardly　a　structure　had　been　left　untouched　by　the　war　that　had
raged　within。　Bridges　had　been　blown　out；　gantries　collapsed；　water　tanks　exploded。　A　burnt…out
Chimera　lay　on　its　roof；　the　corpses　of　a　driver　and　two　gunners　rotting　inside。　There　were　many
more　bodies；　and　parts　thereof；　strewn　about　the　streets　or　half…buried　in　the　wreckage　of
demolished　walls。　Barricades　had　been　built　up　from　whatever　materials　were　available；　to　be
broken　down　again。
No　natural　light　could　penetrate　this　deeply　into　the　hive　—　and　the　electric　lights　were
intermittent；　unreliable；　allowing　black　pools　to　congregate　between　them。　Grayle　drove　through　it
all；　along　narrow　streets　that　had　once　teemed　with　people。　Those　streets　were　empty　now；　most　of
the　people　dead　—　and　of　those　who　had　survived；　most　would　have　joined　their　attackers　and　left
with　them；　marching　on　to　wage　their　next　bloody　battle。
Even　so；　the　sounds　of　other　vehicles　and　of　pounding　machinery　still　thrummed　through　the
hive；　and　occasionally　a　voice　could　be　heard　raised　in　maniacal　laughter　or　a　tortured　scream。
All　in　all；　it　was　a　sobering　scene　—　especially　for　these　nine　soldiers　who　had；　only　yesterday；
been　fighting　to　defend　a　hive　much　like　this　one。　The　difference　was；　thought　Grayle；　that　Alpha
Hive　had　been　attacked　from　without；　its　walls　beaten　down。　The　reason　that　Iota’s　walls　were　still；
for　the　most　part；　standing　was　that　it　had　suffered　a　far　worse　fate。　Iota　had　been　attacked　from
within。
When　he　had　started　the　truck’s　engine；　it　had　roared　like　an　asthmatic　lion。　The　unnatural　sound
had　reverberated　from　the　roof　and　the　walls　until　it　had　seemed　loud　enough　to　bring　them　all
crashing　down。　Gavotski　had　handed　him　a　tattered　robe；　torn　from　a　dead　cultist；　and　offered　the
same　to　Barreski　who　was　seated　beside　Grayle　now　in　the　cab。　Neither　of　them　had　been　happy
about　touching　the　foul　cloth；　wrapping　it　about　their　shoulders；　but　it　had　had　to　be　done。
“The　cultist　I　questioned　talked　about　an　Ice　Palace；”　Steele　had　said；　“the　stronghold　of　the
Chaos　leader　in　these　parts。　He　didn’t　exactly　provide　a　map；　but　there’s　no　doubt　that　it　will　be　the
most　defensible　and　defended　building　in　the　city。　That　means　it　will　be　as　near　as　damn　it　to　the
centre；　and　most　likely　on　one　of　the　higher　levels。　We’ll　have　to　make　our　way　inwards　and
upwards；　get　as　close　as　we　can　to　our　goal　before　the　enemy　knows　we’re　here。”
So　far；　Grayle　had　seen　precious　little　of　the　enemy　—　just　a　few　shapes　flitting　across　high
walkways；　and　at　one　point　a　cloaked　figure　slumped　in　the　gutter；　singing　to　herself。　That　changed
as　he　guided　his　truck　around　a　tight　corner　and　was　confronted　by　at　least　twenty　of　them。
It　looked　like　they　had　been　celebrating　here；　among　the　ruins。　There　were　bottles　everywhere。
The　revelry　had　died　down　now；　though；　and　most　of　the　cultists　were　lying　around　listlessly。　That
was；　until　they　clapped　eyes　on　the　new　arrivals。　A　half…hearted　cheer　went　up　at　the　sight　of　what
the　drunken　cultists　took　to　be　friends；　partners　in　their　recent　victory　—　and　they　rushed　to
surround　the　truck；　banging　on　its　sides　and　rocking　it　on　its　suspension。
Grayle　fought　down　his　natural　disgust；　forced　a　tight　smile　onto　his　lips　and　gave　a　thumbs…up
sign　through　the　window。　Beside　him；　Barreski　tried　to　do　likewise；　but　his　smile　didn’t　quite　reach
his　eyes。　The　cultists　were　probably　too　far　gone　to　notice　anyway；　thought　Grayle。　The　real
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problems　would　arise　if　they　were　to　open　the　truck’s　back　door　and　find　a　squad　of　Valhallan　Ice
Warriors　seated　inside。
He　had　to　get　away　from　here　—　but　the　cultists　were　in　front　of　him　too；　slowing　him　to　a　crawl
lest　he　crush　three　or　four　of　them　beneath　his　wheels。　The　temptation　to　do　just　that　was　almost
irresistible。　However；　he　kept　his　cool；　and　was　soon　through　the　crowd；　able　to　pull　away　from
them。
A　moment　later；　Barreski　sat　bolt　upright　and　cried；　“Stop！　Stop　here！”　And　Grayle　stepped　hard
on　the　brakes；　although　he　couldn’t　see　the　reason　for　the　urgency。
Barreski　hopped　out　of　the　cab；　and　scurried　over　to　the　corpse　of　an　Imperial　Guard　officer。
Grayle　almost　laughed　with　relief。　There　was　no　danger；　his　fellow　tanker　had　just　noticed　a
salvageable　piece　of　kit　and　hadn’t　been　able　to　resist　it。　He　peeled　a　metal　gauntlet　from　the　dead
Guardsman’s　hand；　and　his　face　was　alight　with　enthusiasm　as　he　climbed　back　into　his　seat　with　it。
“Nice　glove；”　said　Grayle。　“What’s　it　supposed　to　be？”
“A　power　fist；　of　course；”　said　Barreski；　sounding　surprised　that　his　comrade　didn’t　know。　“You
put　this　on　your　arm；　and　it　generates　an　energy　field；　lets　you　punch　with　the　strength　of　ten　men。　It
doesn’t　seem　too　badly　damaged；　either。　The　casing　is　a　little　scorched；　that’s　all。　Never　used　one
before；　but　I’ve　seen　them　in　action。　I’m　pretty　sure　I　can　work　out　how　to　activate　it。”
“Activate　it？”　said　Grayle。　“You　can　barely　even　lift　it！”
“Once　this　thing　is　working；”　said　Barreski；　“it’ll　lift　itself。”
At　that　moment；　knuckles　rapped　on　the　partition　behind　them；　a　reminder　from　their　colonel
that　they　had　a　deadline。　Grayle　started　up　the　truck　again；　and　guided　it　into　an　area　of　relatively
untouched　streets；　where　the　going　was　a　little　easier　and　cover　more　plentiful。　The　habitats　of　the
lower…level　hive…dwellers　rose　up　around　them；　rows　of　tiny　windows　stretching　to　the　roof。
They　made　good　progress　for　a　couple　of　hours　—　but　eventually；　inevitably；　they　ran　into　more
cultists。　The　further　they　went；　the　more　they　saw；　no　matter　how　many　detours　Grayle　took　to　avoid
them。　Their　comings　and　goings　appeared　to　be　centred　around　a　large；　black　building。　It　was
obviously　a　manufactorum；　and　its　great　steaming　chimneys　signified　that　it　was　in　use。
He　performed　a　U…turn；　heading　back　into　the　dark　residential　sector。　He　pulled　up　in　the
shadows　just　out　of　range　of　a　sputtering　light；　and　when　Barreski　asked　him　why；　he　explained；
“There　are　just　a　few　too　many　heretics　out　there　for　my　liking。　Someone’s　bound　to　notice　us　soon；
and　start　asking　questions。”
He　had　been　intending　to　consult　Colonel　Steele；　to　ask　his　permission　to　abandon　the　truck。　He
was　surprised　to　find　his　comrades　already　disembarking　onto　the　street。
“I　think　you’re　right；　Grayle；”　Steele　said　—　and　Grayle　realised　that；　thanks　to　his　augmented
senses；　he　had　been　well　aware　of　everything　that　was　happening　outside　the　vehicle；　had　probably
heard　its　driver’s　every　word。　“It’s　far　too　much　of　a　risk　to　go　through　that　crowd。　It’s　time　we
headed　upwards。”
It　was　Palinev　who　found　the　lifter。
On　Gavotski’s　orders；　the　Ice　Warriors　had　spread　out　in　search　of　a　way　up　to　the　hive’s　higher
levels。　Creeping　down　an　unlit　street；　Palinev　had　found　himself　uncomfortably　close　to　the
manufactorum　that　Grayle　had　described。　He　had　seen　cultists　thronging　in　the　lit　area　before　it；　but
so　long　as　he　kept　close　to　the　wall　they　couldn’t　see　him　—　and　there　had　been　a　ladder　in　front　of
him。
He　had　climbed　it　carefully；　disappointed　to　find　that　it　led　only　to　a　high　bridge。　He　had　decided
to　scout　along　it　anyway　—　but　before　he　could　do　so；　his　attention　had　been　drawn　to　the　scene　laid
out　beneath　him。
The　manufactorum　had　no　roof。　This　appeared　to　be　by　design　rather　than　the　result　of　battle
damage；　as　all　six　of　its　walls　were　whole。　Palinev　was　looking　down　into　an　enormous；　round　vat
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filled　with　what　he　could　only　describe　as　liquid　fire。　Suspended　above　this　were　a　number　of　thick
chains；　attached　to　pulley　systems；　many　of　them　trailing　into　the　vat　itself…and　surrounding　the　vat
were　hundreds　of　cultists；　cheering　and　chanting　while　some　of　their　number　operated　the　levers　of
squat　grey　machines　in　precise；　arcane　sequences。
Palinev　could　feel　the　heat　of　the　fire；　but　that　wasn’t　the　only　thing　that　made　his　throat　dry。
This；　then；　was　the　Chaos　war　machine　at　work；　extracting　iron　from　Cressida’s　fertile　ore　as　the
Imperium　had　done　before　it；　using　foul　practices　to　fashion　that　iron　into　weapons；　armour；　vehicles
of　destruction。　Cressida　had　fallen；　but　its　occupiers　selves　for　the　next
conquest。
The　lifter　doors　were　tucked　around　the　corner　of　a　narrow　walkway；　out　of　sight　of　the　evil
below。　The　summoning　rune　was　lit；　so　Palinev　pressed　it　and　took　cover　as；　with　a　grinding　and　a
screeching　of　gears；　the　cab　rose　from　what　sounded　like　it　must　have　been　the　lowest　level　of　the
underhive。　The　lifter　was　functional；　and　empty；　so　Palinev　returned　to　the　others　to　report　his
discovery；　being　sure　to　keep　low　as　he　crossed　the　bridge　again。
A　few　minutes　later；　the　nine　Ice　Warriors　packed　themselves　into　the　cramped　cab；　and　Steele
activated　one　of　the　highest　runes　on　its　wall。
The　journey　upward　took　an　age。　The　wall　runes　lit　in　sequence　as　they　passed　each　of　the　hive’s
hundred…plus　levels。　Palinev　was　uncomfortably　aware；　as　he　was　sure　the　others　were；　that　were
anyone　to　hear　their　noisy　approach；　were　they　to　stop　the　lifter　for　any　reason；　then　its　occupants
would　be　sitting　ducks。
His　heart　sank　as　they　bumped　to　a　halt　and；　although　the　doors　failed　to　open；　the　cab　was　filled
with　a　soft　but　insistent　chime。
Gavotski　sighed。　“I　was　afraid　of　this。　We　can’t　go　any　higher　without　an　access　code。　It’s　to
keep　the　underhive　dwellers　from　the　higher　levels。”
“Let　me；”　said　Barreski。　He　produced　a　knife；　and　inserted　its　blade　into　a　vertical　seam　beside
the　runes。　With　some　expert　manipulation；　he　was　able　to　flip　open　a　section　of　the　wall　to　reveal　a
jumble　of　wires。　Palinev　gasped　as　his　comrade　cavalierly　plunged　his　hands　into　them。
Barreski　pulled　on　several　wires；　tearing　them　from　their　mountings；　seeming　not　to　care　as　the
machine…spirits　spat　their　disapproval。　He　grinned　as　the　chiming　sound　cut　out　and　the　lifter　began
to　rise　again。
“A　little　trick　I　picked　up　as　a　boy；”　he　said。
They　reached　their　destination　at　last；　and　the　doors　rumbled　open；　allowing　nine　grateful　soldiers　to
spill　out　onto　a　wide；　empty　street。
The　contrast　with　the　ground　floor　was　extreme。　Although　the　Ice　Warriors　were　still　surrounded
by　buildings；　there　were　open　walkways　and　squares　in　between；　into　which　some　natural　light　fell
from　translucent　panels　in　the　hive’s　roof　some　ten　levels　above　them。　Below；　the　architecture　had
been　strictly　utilitarian；　but　up　here　there　were　statues　and　fluted　columns　and　fountains　and
gargoyles。
Many　of　the　buildings　sported　eagle　crests　over　their　doorways　—　administrative　offices　—　but
Barreski　could　also　see　an　apartment　block　with　wide　windows　opening　onto　balconies。
Not　that　Chaos　hadn’t　left　its　mark　here　too。　Many　of　the　walls　had　been　defaced　with　hateful
sigils；　most　of　the　buildings　looted　and　some　burned　out。　And　the　air　was　cold；　far　colder　than　it　had
been　below　—　almost　as　cold　as　it　had　been　outside。
Steele　had　found　something：　a　rectangular；　white…framed　data　panel；　mounted　on　a　free…standing；
pivoting　base。　He　motioned　Barreski　to　join　him　at　it；　and　had　him　confirm　that　it　was　a　public
terminal。　The　interface　was　designed　to　be　accessible；　the　inlaid　runes　simple　to　interpret；　and
Barreski　was　soon　able　to　punch　up　a　plan　of　the　hive；　and　to　show　Steele　how　to　select　more
detailed　views　of　each　of　its　levels　and　sectors。　Then　he　watched　in　fascination　as　the　colonel
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scrolled　through　map　after　map；　hardly　pausing　at　some　long　enough　to　read　their　labels；　but　—
Barreski　felt　sure　—　somehow　committing　the　details　of　each　one　to　his　augmented　memory。
“Spaceport；”　Steele　muttered；　as　he　lingered　briefly　over　one　map。　“That’s　good　to　know。　Could
be　a　way　out　of　here　for　us；　if　we’re　lucky。”
“No　mention　of　an　Ice　Palace　though；　sir？”　asked　Barreski。
“I　wouldn’t　have　expected　one。　I　should　think　the　Ice　Palace　is　a　recent　addition；　something
Mangellan　has　had　built　for