Ice Guard(科幻战争)-第15部分

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for　him；　forcing　him　to　walk　onwards　—　but　it　did　make　him　smile。
Thick　iron　doors　had　been　punched　into　the　cavern　walls。　They　nestled　in　nooks；　listing　at　odd
angles。　Steele　felt　his　heart　beating　a　little　faster　at　the　thought　that　Confessor　Wollkenden　might
have　been　behind　one　of　them。　He　resisted　the　urge　to　call　out　to　him。　He　didn’t　want　to　tip　his　hand
just　yet；　thought　it　best　to　bide　his　time；　to　continue　the　pretence　that　he　was　a　broken　prisoner。　Not
that　it　was　so　hard　to　pretend。
A　door　was　heaved　open；　and　Steele　was　thrust　through　it。　His　new　quarters　consisted　of　a
windowless　stone　box；　extending　no　more　than　a　metre　and　a　half　in　any　direction。　He　had　to　stoop
to　avoid　knocking　his　head　on　the　ceiling；　nor　was　there　enough　space　for　him　to　lie　comfortably。
A　solid　metal　ring　was　set　into　one　wall；　a　heap　of　chains　draped　across　it。　Two　of　the　traitors
placed　their　hands　on　Steele’s　shoulders；　pushed　him　down　to　the　ground　and　wrapped　him；　quickly
and　efficiently；　in　the　chains；　passing　them　four　or　five　times　through　the　ring　and　securing　them　at
last　with　a　heavy　padlock。　By　the　time　they　had　finished；　he　was　so　tightly　trussed　that　he　could
neither　sit　nor　stand；　his　body　forced　instead　into　an　unnatural；　painful　hunch：　the　traitors’　revenge；
he　supposed；　for　his　trick　on　the　steps。
They　withdrew；　and　took　their　lamp…packs　with　them。　The　slam　of　the　cell　door　plunged　Steele
into　an　impenetrable　darkness。　He　tried　to　switch　to　infrared　vision；　but　his　bionic　eye　still　wasn’t
responding。　Its　HUD　reported　that　the　self…repair　cycle　would　be　completed　in　thirty…five　seconds’
time。
Ten　minutes　later；　that　countdown　still　stood　at　thirty…five　seconds。
The　Ice　Warriors　were　back　on　the　move；　back　in　the　sewers　—　and　despite　their　odorous
surroundings；　Pozhar　was　just　grateful　to　be　out　of　that　chapel。　He　had　felt　no　trace　of　the　Emperor’s
presence　in　there；　not　for　him。　He　had　felt　like　an　intruder。
His　squad　was　eight…strong　again。　Barreski；　Mikhaelev　and　Palinev　had　been　brought　up　through
the　manhole　together；　and　Gavotski　had　greeted　them　and　explained　the　situation；　explaining　the
details　of　their　unlikely　alliance　with　the　mutants。
Barreski　had　looked　appalled；　but　he　had　kept　his　own　counsel。　Mikhaelev；　however；　had　been
surprisingly　supportive。
“They　can　help　us；”　he　had　said　to　the　others；　when　Blonsky　was　safely　out　of　earshot；　“or　we
can　kill　them；　and　throw　away　any　hope　of　succeeding　in　our　mission　for　the　sake　of　Imperial
dogma；　rules　written　by　men　who　have　never　set　foot　on　a　battlefield。　I　ask　you；　why　shouldn’t　we
do　this？”
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Pozhar　had　wanted　to　answer　that　question。　He　had　itched　to　tear　open　his　greatcoat；　to　expose
the　fur　that　was　crawling　across　his　chest；　to　yell　out；　“Because　you　don’t　want　to　end　up　like　me！”
But　he　had　no　wish　to　die　like　that。
“Once　we　have　the　confessor；”　Barreski　had　said　sullenly；　“we　can　pump　these　abominations　full
of　las…fire。　We　can　do　that；　right？”
The　sounds　of　combat　from　below　had　heralded　Anakora’s　approach。　She　had　been　collected　by
one　of　the　more　human…looking　mutants；　as　had　the　others　—　but　evidently　she　had　seen　through　its
disguise。　Gavotski　had　sent　Palinev　down　into　the　tunnels；　to　find　her　before　she　could　flee；　to
convince　her　that　there　was　no　threat　here。
They　had　all　listened　with　heavy　hearts　as　Anakora　had　related　the　details　of　Steele’s　last　stand。
“I　shouldn’t　have　left　him；”　she　had　sighed　—　to　which　Blonsky　had　retorted　that　of　course　she
should；　she　had　been　following　orders。
They　had　all　felt　as　uneasy　as　Pozhar　had　in　the　chapel　—　and　so；　although　it　might　have　been
safer　to　sleep　there　and　set　out　for　the　Ice　Palace　in　the　morning；　Gavotski　had　declined　this　offer。
He　had　also　stipulated　that　no　more　than　two　mutant　guides　should　accompany　the　Ice　Warriors　—
and　so；　two　had　been　detailed　to　the　task；　chosen　once　more　it　seemed　for　their　near…human　looks
and　ease　of　speech。
Pozhar　was　wading　behind　one　of　them；　wondering　how　misshapen　it　was　beneath　its　blue
worker’s　smock。
He　would　almost　have　preferred　the　company　of　an　obvious　monster。　At　least　that　would　have
been　concealing　nothing。　Not　like　me；　he　thought。
The　mutants　had　built　a　fire　on　the　chapel　floor；　in　which　all　of　the　Ice　Warriors　had　recharged
their　las…guns’　power　packs。　They　had　also　provided　a　few　scavenged　frag　grenades　and　knives；　but
nothing　more　useful　than　that。
Pozhar　was　concerned　that　they　seemed　to　have　climbed　a　long　way　down；　via　various　ladders
and　sometimes　short　drops　into　underlying　tunnels　—　but　their　guides　had　assured　them　that　they
knew　where　they　were　going；　that　the　best　way　to　reach　the　Ice　Palace　was　to　come　up　from　below
it。
They　were　sloshing　their　way　along　another　stinking　tunnel　when　Palinev　brought　them　to　a　halt。
“Does　anyone　else　hear　that？”　he　asked。　“Something　up　ahead。”
They　fell　silent；　still；　listening；　and　they　could　all　hear　it　now；　could　feel　as　well；　the　flow　of　the
usually　stagnant　sewer　water　about　their　shins。
Something　was　coming　this　way；　swimming　this　way。
The　mutants　were　the　first　to　react；　to　turn；　to　look　at　each　other　in　pale…faced　horror…　and　to
run。　One　of　them　slipped　through　Grayle’s　fingers；　but　the　other　was　caught　by　Barreski　and　pinned
against　the　wall。
“What　is　it？”　the　Ice　Warrior　yelled　in　the　mutant’s　face。　“What　are　you　afraid　of？”
“And　did　you　bring　us　down　here　on　purpose？”　spat　Blonsky。　“Were　you　leading　us　to　it？”　The
mutant　couldn’t　answer；　could　only　stare　and　babble　and　whimper　and　kick　in　a　futile　attempt　to
shake　off　Barreski’s　grip。
And　then　a　miniature　tidal　wave　slapped　out　from　the　opening　of　a　nearby　side　tunnel；　to　be
followed　an　instant　later　by　a　body：　green；　scaly；　sinewy；　bristling　with　eyes　and　teeth。　It　leapt　into
the　tunnel；　almost　bounced　off　the　wall；　landed　on　its　feet；　and　oriented　itself　with　incredible　speed
as　it　sighted　its　prey。
And　then　the　monster　was　upon　them。
Steele　had　been　alone　for　almost　an　hour。
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He　knew　this　because　his　internal　chrono　told　him　so；　it　had　kept　him　horribly　aware　of　every
second　that　had　passed。　And　because　of　that　drip；　that　infernal　drip；　marking　off　the　slow　passage　of
time；　one　beat　every　two　point　four　seconds；　a　total　of　fourteen　hundred　and　sixteen　drips　so　far。
He　half…stood；　stooped；　in　his　heavy　chains；　his　spine　aching　fit　to　break；　and　he　prayed　to　the
Emperor；　and　silently　cajoled　the　machine…spirits　in　his　bionic　eye；　but　they　were　deaf　to　his　pleas；
those　same　two　digits　frozen　in　the　HUD。
Thirty…five　seconds…
He　heard　footsteps　on　the　steps　outside；　and　he　knew　that　his　time　was　up。
A　small；　square　panel　in　his　cell　door　slid　open；　and　light　spilled　in；　almost　blinding　Steele　after
so　long　in　the　dark。　A　cultist　peered　in　through　the　hole；　satisfied　himself　that　the　prisoner　was　still
bound；　and　opened　a　heavy　lock。
The　door　creaked　open　to　reveal　a　tall；　thin　figure　standing　on　the　threshold。　Like　Steele　before
him；　this　new　arrival　had　to　stoop　to　enter　the　cell；　there　was　hardly　any　space　between　the　two　of
them　as　he　perched　on　a　narrow　ledge　in　the　wall　opposite　the　colonel；　arms　folded　casually；　a　smug
smile　twisting　his　lips。
He　was　no　longer　backlit　now；　and　Steele　saw　him　properly　for　the　first　time；　could　make　out　his
pinched　features。　The　newcomer’s　eyes　were　like　deep　black　holes；　into　which　Steele　felt　he　could
almost　have　fallen。　He　sported　no　visible　mutations；　but　he　wore　the　black　robes　of　a　cultist。　His
hood　was　folded　back；　to　show　off　an　elaborate　tattoo　that　spread　like　a　spider’s　web　across　his　face；
over　his　shaved　head；　behind　his　ears　and　down　his　neck。　He　also　wore　a　golden　sash；　and　a
general’s　shoulder　flash　on　his　right　shoulder　only　—　and　he　carried　an　ornate　sceptre　with　the　most
vile　obscenities　carved　into　it：　purloined　and　makeshift　symbols　of　rank　for　a　leader　whose　army
barely　acknowledged　the　concept。
“Let　me　introduce　myself；”　he　said　in　a　voice　as　smooth　as　silk。　“I　am　the　ruler　of　this　hive　by
right　of　conquest。　I　am　the　favoured　of　the　Chaos　gods；　a　high　priest　in　their　service。　I　am　your
jailer；　your　interrogator；　and　perhaps　in　time　your　executioner。　I　am　all　of　these　things　and　more　—
but　the　one　thing　you　need　to　know　about　me；　the　most　important　fact　in　your　life　right　now；　is　that　I
am　your　new；　your　only；　master。”
“Oh；　I　know　who　you　are；”　said　Steele；　not　bothering　to　disguise　the　contempt　in　his　voice。
“You’re　Mangellan。”
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CHAPTER　FIFTEEN
Time　to　Destruction　of　Cressida：　12。12。08
The　creature　was　moving　so　fast　they　barely　had　time　to　react。
It　came　surfing　towards　them　on　the　shallow　sewer　water。　Then　it　flexed　its　stumpy　legs　and　its
prehensile　tail；　and　sprang　into　their　midst；　shrugging　off　Pozhar　and　Anakora’s　las…fire。　The　Ice
Warriors　scattered　as　best　they　could；　but　the　tunnel　was　narrow；　confining。　The　creature　lashed　out
at　them　with　claws　and　fangs；　its　mouth　was　wide；　incredibly　wide；　its　teeth　like　chainsword　blades。
It　almost　caught　Gavotski’s　arm　in　its　jaws；　but　he　pulled　away　in　time。
The　creature　smacked　back　into　the　water　on　its　stomach　—　its　natural　orientation；　Barreski
realised。　It　was　like　an　alligator；　its　body　elongated　and　scaled；　but　its　back　was　a　mess　of　spines；
and　its　head　a　splatter　of　misshapen；　rheumy　eyes。
It　reared　up　again。　He　felt　its　hot；　fetid　breath　and　its　spittle　on　his　face；　and　he　grabbed　the
mutant　he　had　been　holding；　swung　it　around　and　gave　it　a　push。
The　mutant　screamed　as　it　stumbled　into　the　sewer　creature　—　which；　not　questioning　its　good
fortune；　immediately　sank　its　claws　into　the　mutant’s　shoulders；　clamped　its　jaws　over　its　head　and
dived　back　down　into　the　water　with　it。
This　gave　the　Ice　Warriors　time　to　regroup；　to　start　firing　in　earnest。　The　creature　hardly　seemed
to　notice。　It　tore　the　mutant’s　head　from　its　shoulders；　and　threw　back　its　own　head　with　a
triumphant　roar；　showering　the　walls　with　blood。
But　if　the　Ice　Warriors　had　hoped　that　one　kill　might　satisfy　its　appetite；　they　were　about　to　be
sorely　disappointed。
“Colonel　Stanislev　Steele；”　recited　Steele；　“officer　in　command　of　the　Valhallan　319th　regiment　of
the　Imperial　Guard　—　and　that’s　all　you’re　going　to　get　from　me。”
“A　regimental　commander；　hmm？”　said　Mangellan；　the　smirk　still　on　his　lips。　“Should　I　be
honoured　that　they　sent　you　to　fight　me？　Or　should　I　feel　slighted　that；　apparently；　you　only　brought
a　handful　of　men　with　you？”
Steele　snarled　back　at　his　captor；　baring　his　teeth。　“You　should　feel　afraid！　When　I　get　out　of
these　chains—”
“Oh　yes；”　said　Mangellan；　“you　would　like　to　be　free；　wouldn’t　you？　Isn’t　that　what　we　all　want；
ultimately？　To　be　free　of　the　chains　that　bind　us？”
“All　I　want；”　growled　Steele；　“is　to　do　my　duty　to　the　Emperor。”
“And　you　serve　him　well。　You　have　done　your　best。　You　made　it　a　lot　further　into　my　hive　than　I
would　have　thought　possible。　You　are　evidently　a　skilled　combatant；　and　a　great　leader。　How；　then；
does　your　god　repay　your　devotion？”
“The　Emperor　provides　all　we　need。”
“How　does　it　feel；　Colonel　Steele；　to　know　that　he　thinks　so　little　of　your　life　as　to　waste　it　on　a
fool’s　errand？”
“It　is　never　a　waste　to　fight　for　order；　to　strike　a　blow　against　your　philosophy。”
“Oh；　I　know　why　you’re　here。　It　seems　that　Confessor　Wollkenden’s　opinion　of　his　own
importance　is　not　quite　as　inflated　as　I　had　believed。”
Steele　tightened　at　the　mention　of　the　confessor’s　name。　He　couldn’t　help　himself。
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“Oh　yes；”　said　Mangellan；　basking　in　the　reaction；　“I　thought　that　might　get　your　attention。
Wollkenden　is　here。　He　is　alive。　We　have　spoken　many　times；　he　and　I。　You　can　see　for　yourself
soon。　I　will　bring　you　face　to　face　with　the　man　for　whom　you　were　prepared　to　sacrifice　yourself。　It
should　prove　an　interesting　meeting。”
“Shall　I　cut　him；　master？　Shall　I　make　him　talk？”
Steele’s　glare　had　been　fixed　on　Mangellan；　he　hadn’t　noticed　another　arrival。　It　had　pushed　its
way　through　the　traitors　outside；　and　stood　now　in　the　doorway　to　the　cell：　a　black…robed　mutant；
short　and　stooped；　with　lank　black　hair　hanging　over　its　sloping　brow；　tufts　of　grey　fur　sprouting
from　its　ears；　its　eyebrows；　its　neck。　It　was　carrying　a　long…bladed；　blood…caked　knife；　fingering　its
edges　almost　lovingly。
“There　will　be　no　need　for　that；　Furst；”　said　Mangellan。　“Colonel　Steele　is　not　our　prisoner；　he　is
our　guest。”
“Then　unchain　me；”　suggested　Steele；　“and　let　me　show　you　how　a　Valhallan　Ice　Warrior　repays
your　hospitality。”
“And　I　have　no　questions　to　ask　him；”　Mangellan　continued　as　if　the　colonel　had　not　spoken。　“I
know　why　he　came　here；　and　I　suspect　that　I　know　as　well　as　he　does　the　whereabouts　of　his
troopers。　They　will　be　cowering　out　there　in　the　city　somewhere；　plucking　up　the　courage　to　attempt
to　approach　my　Ice　Palace　again。”
Had　Steele’s　bionic　eye　been　working；　he　would　have　discharged　it　into　Mangellan’s　face　right
then。　It　was　a　good　thing；　then；　that　it　wasn’t。　He　might　have　maimed　his　foe；　gained　some
satisfaction；　but　it　wouldn’t　have　helped　him　in　the　long　term。　He　had　to　keep　Mangellan　talking；
await　his　moment　—　and　hope　that；　when　that　moment　came；　he　would　be　ready。　Thirty…five
seconds…
“Then　why　am　I　alive？”　he　asked。　“If　you　don’t　want　anything　from　me…”
“You　do　not　question　the　high　priest！”　spat　the　stunted　mutant；　Furst；　hopping　from　foot　to　foot
as　he　became　agitated；　panting　with　the　effort。
“It’s　all　right；　Furst；”　said　Mangellan；　sounding　a　little　weary　at　the　interruption。　“I　am　quite
happy　to　tell　Colonel　Steele　all　he　wishes　to　know。　That　is　why　I　came　here；　after　all：　to　talk　with
him；　to　reassure　him。”
He　looked　directly　at　Steele；　and　something　glinted　in　the　black　depths　of　his　eyes　as　he
concluded；　“To　invite　him　to　join　our　cause。”
“Concentrate　your　fire；”　yelled　Gavotski。　“Try　to　burn　through　its　hide！”
The　sewer　creature　had　reared　up　again；　its　broad　mouth　stretched　into　a　great；　keening　howl　—
of　defiance　or　of　pain；　it　was　impossible　to　tell。
It　was　caught；　dazed；　confused；　swaying　for　an　instant　in　a　criss…cross　of　las…beams；　and
Mikhaelev　dared　hope　that　it　might　succumb；　might　fall；　might　at　least　err　on　the　side　of　caution　and
flee　—　but　then　it　chose　its　target；　and　it　lashed　out。
Palinev　dived　out　of　the　creature’s　way。　Its　snout　smacked　hard　into　the　tunnel　wall；　so　hard　that
it　seemed　like　its　neck　must　have　broken。　No　such　luck；　though。　It　hit　the　water　on　its　stomach；　and
the　head　of　its　previous　victim；　the　luckless　mutant；　was　tossed　on　a　wave　born　of　the　impact。
The　creature　was　stunned；　immobile；　its　back　crowning　the　water　like　a　miniature　island；
covered　in　thorns。　The　Ice　Warriors　pressed　their　advantage；　and　the　scales　at　the　base　of　the
creature’s　spines　began　to　bubble　and　blacken　in　their　beams。　Its　tail　thrashed　helplessly；　and
Anakora　moved　in；　thrusting　her　bayonet　downwards　at　it；　attempting　to　pin　it。　Her　aim　was　true；
but　her　broken　blade　too　weak　for　the　task。
The　creature　was　recovering；　raising　its　head　so　that　its　scalp　formed　another　little　island；　its
many　eyes　glaring　in　all　directions　so　that　it　was　impossible　to　work　out　which　way　it　would　go；
who　it　would　target　next。
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Suddenly；　Anakora　was　yanked　off　her　feet。　As　she　landed　heavily；　Mikhaelev；　behind　her；
caught　a　glimpse　of　the　great　tail　looped　round　her　ankles。　The　creature　was　twisting　back　on　itself；
with　incredible　agility　and　litheness；　bending　double　to　reach　its　ensnared；　floundering　victim。
Mikhaelev　was　about　to　fire　again　when　his　line　of　sight　was　blocked　by　Pozhar；　who　threw
himself　onto　the　sewer　creature’s　back　with　a　zeal　of　which　the　late　Trooper　Borscz　would　surely
have　approved　of。　He　found　an　eye　with　his　knife；　and　punctured　it　with　a　jab；　eliciting　another　howl
—　and　the　creature　relaxed　its　grip　on　Anakora　to　deal　with　the　more　immediate　threat。
It　bucked　and　squirmed　beneath　the　young　trooper’s　weight；　Pozhar　let　out　a　groan　as　a　spine
slipped　through　his　greatcoat　and　into　his　stomach。　Then　he　slid　into　the　water；　winded；　and
Anakora　was　trying　to　pull　him　clear；　to　return　the　favour　he　had　done　for　her；　but　the　creature　had
reared　up　again；　was　looming　over　the　pair　of　them。
Mikhaelev’s　hand　was　in　the　pocket　of　his　greatcoat；　fingering　a　hard；　cylindrical　object；　one　he
had　kept　ready　for　just　such　an　occasion。　It　would　be　risky　to　use　it　in　this　confined　space　—
especially　for　Anakora　and　Pozhar　—　but；　unless　he　did　something；　his　two　comrades　were　dead
anyway；　and　he　had　a　perfect　shot。
“Demolition　charge！”　he　yelled　as　he　lobbed　the　device。　His　aim　and　his　timing　could　not　have
been　better。　The　charge　disappeared　between　the　creature’s　teeth；　bounced　off　its　tongue…　and
Mikhaelev　was　running；　as　were　the　other　Ice　Warriors　—　six　of　them；　at　least。　The　remaining　two
were　still　cornered；　helpless。
The　blast；　when　it　came；　filled　Mikhaelev’s　ears；　shook　the　tunnel　around　him　and　splattered　his
back　with　chunks　of　something　soft　and　moist。　But　it　didn’t　lift　him　from　his　feet；　and　it　didn’t　bring
down　the　roof　—　and　when　he　stopped；　when　he　turned；　when　he　looked；　Anakora　and　Pozhar　were
still　alive；　covered　in　the　blood　and　the　guts　and　the　sizzling　flesh　of　the　monster　that　had　menaced
them…
…the　monster　that；　if　it　hadn’t　swallowed　his　charge　outright；　or　found　it　lodged　in　its　throat；
must　have　closed　its　mouth　reflexively　around　it；　and　contained　the　brunt　of　the　explosion；　as
Mikhaelev　had　prayed　it　might；　within　itself。
Barreski　punched　the　air；　let　out　a　whoop　of　delight；　and　clapped　Mikhaelev　on　the　back。
“Well；　I　hope　you’re　pleased　with　yourself；”　said　Grayle　with　a　mock　frown；　as　he　brushed
clinging；　rancid　lumps　of　meat　from　his　hat　and　his　coat。　“You　know；　after　sloshing　my　way　through
this　hive’s　sewer　system　for　about　an　hour　and　a　half；　I　didn’t　think　it　was　possible　to　smell　any
worse。　Obviously；　my　mistake。”
“Unfortunately；”　said　Gavotski　grimly；　“we　do　have　a　more　pressing　problem　than　your　personal
hygiene；　Grayle。”
Blonsky　spelled　it　out；　“We’ve　lost　our　guides；　both　of　them。”
“And　with　them；”　sighed　Mikhaelev；　“our　way　into　the　Ice　Palace。”
Steele　laughed　in　Mangellan’s　face。　It　seemed　the　only　rational　thing　to　do。
“You’re　insane！”　he　accused　the　high　priest。　“Well；　of　course　you　are；　that　goes　with　the
territory　—　but　do　you　really　expect　an　officer　of　the　Imperium　to　just…　to…？”
Mangellan　was　unfazed。　“Many　of　us　here　were　once　officers　in　your　Imperium；”　he　reminded
his　prisoner。　“You　know　that。　Of　course；　the　idea　of　joining　me　is　abhorrent　to　you。　You　have　been
brought　up；　conditioned；　to　look　at　the　universe　in　one　way；　and　one　way　only：　the　Imperium’s
way。”
“There　is　no　other　way；”　Steele　growled。　“At　least；　none　that　bear　thinking　about。”
“Ah　yes；”　said　Mangellan；　“that　is　what　they　tell　you；　isn’t　it？　That　you　mustn’t　think　about　it；
that　the　knowledge　itself　is　forbidden。　Don’t　you　wonder　why　they　tell　you　that。　Colonel　Steele？
Don’t　you　wonder　if　there　could　be　more　to　life　than　following　orders；　being　shipped　from　one　war
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zone　to　another？　Have　you　asked　yourself　what　they　are　keeping　from　you；　what　they　are　so　afraid
you　might　lear