Ice Guard(科幻战争)-第19部分

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not　expected　to　get　out　of　the　Ice　Palace　without　a　fight。
Already　they　appeared　to　have　lost　Blonsky；　having　abandoned　their　sniping　positions　up　above；
she　and　Gavotski　had　planned　to　meet　him　at　the　base　of　a　flight　of　stairs。　They　had　waited　as　long
as　they　could。
They　had　set　off　running　at　first；　but　slowed　down　as　they　had　begun　to　run　into　heretics　from
the　courtyard。　They　had　tried　to　look　less　like　they　had　an　urgent　purpose；　less　like　they　were　trying
to　get　out。　Anakora’s　stomach　had　tightened　as　a　squad　of　Traitor　Guardsmen　had　rushed　out　of　a
side　passageway　into　their　path；　but　they　had　drawn　their　cultists’　robes　around　themselves；　bowed
their　heads　and　kept　their　cool；　and　the　traitors　had　hurried　right　on　by。
Not　long　after　that；　their　path　had　converged　with　those　of　Barreski　and　Mikhaelev；　and　Anakora
was　glad　that　two　comrades　at　least　had　made　it　this　far。
And　then　they　had　heard　las…fire；　and　she　had　feared　the　worst。
A　score　of　heretics　had　gathered　at　a　four…way　junction；　and　more　were　rushing　up　to　join　them
from　all　directions。　No　one　had　questioned　the　arrival　of　what　they　took　to　be　four　more
reinforcements　to　their　cause。　The　heretics　were　laying　siege　to　an　opening　in　the　wall　a　few　metres
away；　being　kept　at　bay　only　by　a　volley　of　las…fire　from　said　opening。　Anakora　had　guessed　who
was　wielding　the　guns；　even　before　she　had　caught　a　glimpse　of　Colonel　Steele’s　face。
A　dark…skinned　Traitor　Guardsman　with　narrow　eyes　and　pinched　nostrils　had　taken　command。
He　was　barking　out　orders：　“Hold　your　fire！　Let　the　Emperor…lovers　discharge　their　power　packs；
then　they’ll　be　defenceless。”
Gavotski　moved　up　behind　him；　tapped　him　on　the　shoulder　—　and　the　traitor　turned　to　find
himself　staring　down　a　gun　barrel。　A　las…beam　stabbed　into　his　right　eye　and　fried　his　brain。　The
other　three　Ice　Warriors　took　this　as　their　cue　to　act。　Anakora　took　another　traitor　by　surprise　and　slit
his　throat　with　her　knife。　Barreski　tried　to　do　likewise；　but　his　chosen　victim　had　faster　reflexes　and
was　able　to　throw　off　his　hold。　And　Mikhaelev　was　firing　his　lasgun　on　full　auto；　apparently
indiscriminately；　creating　the　maximum　amount　of　panic。
As　in　the　courtyard；　the　cultists　were　confused；　terrified　by　this　sudden　threat　in　their　midst；　by
the　loss　of　their　leader。　Some　of　them　fled。　But　others　chose　to　fight　back。
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At　first；　the　Ice　Warriors　had　the　advantage。　The　cultists　still　weren’t　quite　sure　who　their
enemies　were；　which　of　the　robed　figures　around　them　they　could　trust；　to　whom　they　could　turn
their　backs。　It　made　them　fight　with　one　eye　over　their　shoulders；　which　proved　to　be　the　downfall
of　many　of　them。　Anakora　bludgeoned　two　to　the　ground　with　her　fists；　and　gutted　a　third　with　her
blade。　She　smiled　to　herself　as　a　disoriented　cultist　plunged　a　knife　into　a　friend’s　ribs。　His　fellows
interpreted　his　mistake　as　an　act　of　treachery　and　fell　upon　him。
The　Traitor　Guardsmen；　however　—　the　few　that　remained　—　were　more　perceptive；　zeroing　in
on　their　true　foes。　Anakora　found　herself　in　a　knife　fight　with　one；　straining　to　get　her　blade　past　his
defences；　aware　that　every　second　he　could　keep　her　occupied　was　a　second　longer　for　his　allies　to
rally。
Sure　enough；　she　felt　hands　grasping　at　her　from　behind；　an　arm　around　her　throat；　and　she　was
held　by　two　cultists。　If　they　had　been　armed；　she　would　have　been　dead　already。　But　the　Traitor
Guardsman　did　have　a　knife；　and　Anakora’s　arms　were　pinned　so　that　all　she　could　do　to　defend
herself　was　to　kick　out　at　him；　at　the　same　time　pushing　backwards；　trying　to　slam　her　captors　into
the　wall；　to　make　them　release　their　grips。　Out　of　the　corner　of　her　eye；　she　saw　that　Mikhaelev　was
in　trouble　too；　forced　onto　his　knees。
And　then；　once　again；　the　tide　of　battle　turned　—　as　Colonel　Steele　and　Palinev　broke　cover　and
came　racing　onto　the　scene　with　guns　blazing。
They　were　running　again。
Somehow　they　always　seemed　to　be　running　—　and　Gavotski’s　lungs　were　burning；　his　legs
aching；　and　he　began　to　wonder　if　he　was　finally　getting　too　old　for　this。
They　had　disengaged　from　the　melee　as　soon　as　they　were　able；　knowing　that　they　couldn’t　win
that　fight；　that　their　enemies’　numbers　would　just　keep　on　growing。　There　were　Traitor　Guardsmen
at　their　heels；　sending　las…beams　after　them。　The　Ice　Warriors　were　returning　fire　as　best　they　could。
Barreski　and　Grayle；　both　of　whom　seemed　to　have　lost　their　guns；　were　carrying　Wollkenden。
And　as　they　hurried　past　a　junction；　Gavotski　saw　a　robed　figure　barrelling　down　the　connecting
corridor　towards　them。　He　whirled；　brought　up　his　lasgun…　and　the　figure　skidded　to　a　halt；　threw
up　his　hands　and　whipped　back　his　hood；　to　reveal　the　flushed　face　of　Trooper　Blonsky。
“He…　he’s　behind　me！”　the　new　arrival　panted；　gesturing　over　his　shoulder。
And　there　he　was　now：　the　Chaos　Space　Marine；　stumbling　into　view　just　a　couple　of　hundred
metres　behind　Blonsky；　raising　a　bolt　pistol。　Gavotski　grabbed　his　exhausted　comrade；　bundled　him
around　the　corner；　and　pushed　him　off　after　the　others。　He　hurled　a　frag　grenade　at　the　Chaos　Marine
in　the　hope　of　at　least　slowing　him　down；　and　then　he　followed　at　full　pelt。
They　returned；　at　last；　to　the　stone　cellar　through　which　they　had　entered　the　Ice　Palace　an　hour
ago。　Anakora　and　Mikhaelev　took　up　positions　in　the　doorway；　firing　out　into　the　corridor；　as　the
others　negotiated　the　slippery　steps　and　began　to　squeeze　themselves；　one　by　one；　through　the　hole
in　the　wall。
This　rearguard　action　would　buy　them　time；　but　not　much。　Gavotski　knew　that　once　the　Chaos
Space　Marine　caught　up　with　them；　his　two　comrades　would　have　no　choice　but　to　fall　back。
He　helped　Grayle　feed　Wollkenden　through　the　hole　headfirst；　to　Barreski　and　Palinev　on　the　far
side；　below。　Then　he　wriggled　through　himself；　and　dropped　down　into　the　sewer　tunnel。　Colonel
Steele　hadn’t　seen　this　side　of　Iota　Hive　before；　and　he　was　inspecting　his　surroundings　in　the　glow
of　his　comrades’　lamp…packs。
Palinev　set　off　along　the　narrow　brick　ledge；　Barreski　and　Grayle　hauling　Wollkenden　along
after　him。　Steele　shouted　at　them　to　wait。　“We　need　to　head　for　the　spaceport；”　he　said。　“If　there’s
still　a　way　off　this　planet；　one　we　can　reach　in　time；　that’s　where　it’ll　be。　And　it’s　in　that　direction。”
He　pointed　through　the　wall；　and　Gavotski　didn’t　doubt　for　a　second　that　he　knew　what　he　was
talking　about。
107
“I　don’t　know　if　we　can　get　through　that　way；　sir；”　said　Palinev。　“These　tunnels　are　a　maze。　We
might　end　up　being　cornered；　and　with　that　Traitor　Space　Marine　on　our　tails…”
“Yeah；”　Barreski　muttered　to　Blonsky；　“thanks　for　leading　that　straight　to　us。”
“And　the　less　time　we　spend　down　here；”　said　Gavotski；　“the　better。”　Catching　Steele’s
inquisitive　look；　he　said；　“I’ll　explain　later。　With　your　permission；　sir；　I’d　like　to　make　our　way　back
to　the　mutant　chapel。　I’ll；　ah；　explain　about　that　too。　We　can　get　our　bearings　there；　and　strike　out　for
the　port　above　ground。　We　might　even　get　some　help；　someone　to　run　interference　for　us。”
Steele　nodded；　accepting　that　his　sergeant　knew　the　situation　better　than　he　did　at　the　moment　—
and　the　Ice　Warriors　set　off　again。　Gavotski　lingered　behind；　to　help　first　Mikhaelev　and　then
Anakora　down　from　the　cellar。　As　Anakora’s　first　foot　touched　down；　Gavotski　saw　the　muzzle　of　a
bolt　pistol　poking　through　the　entrance　hole　above　her；　and　he　threw　himself　at　the　startled　trooper；
flattening　them　both　against　the　side　of　the　tunnel。
A　hail　of　bolts　rained　down　at　their　backs；　and　churned　up　the　black　water　below　them。　They
waited　for　a　lull　in　the　firing；　then　they　hurried　after　their　comrades。　The　last　of　them；　Mikhaelev；
was　just　disappearing　through　a　hole　in　the　wall　—　and　as　Gavotski　reached　the　hole；　he　heard　a
heavy　thud　behind　him；　and　he　turned　to　look；　and　found　his　worst　fear　realised。
The　Chaos　Space　Marine　had　just　dropped　into　the　tunnel；　and　was　turning　to　follow　them。　But
there　was　something　else　too；　something　in　the　water。
And　the　water　erupted；　and　a　monster　filled　the　tunnel；　looming　over　the　new　arrival；　its　jaws
darting　for　his　throat：　a　sewer　creature；　perhaps　attracted　by　the　Chaos　Space　Marine’s　own　bolter
fire　—　a　creature　like　the　one　the　Ice　Warriors　had　fought　earlier；　only　Gavotski　thought　this　one
might　have　been　even　larger。
The　Chaos　Space　Marine　was　trying　to　bat　its　thrusting　head　away　from　him；　swiping　at　the
creature　with　his　chainsword；　carving　into　its　scales；　drawing　black　blood。　But　Gavotski　didn’t　wait
to　see　the　outcome　of　their　battle。
He　slipped　away　from　there；　and　he　kept　on　running。
There　had　been　rubble　on　top　of　the　manhole　cover。
Palinev　had　been　unable　to　shift　it。　Blonsky　had　volunteered　to　climb　the　ladder　instead；　to　put
his　shoulder　to　the　task。　By　now；　of　course；　they　had　all　been　worried　about　what　they　might　find　out
there；　in　the　chapel；　on　the　surface。　Steele　had　listened　for　a　moment；　and　assured　his　squad　that　he
could　hear　nobody。　No　foes。　But　no　friends　either。
The　cover　had　yielded　at　last；　and　Blonsky　had　been　the　first　to　climb　through　it；　to　stand
blinking　in　the　unexpected　light；　though　the　others　had　soon　joined　him。
The　Chaos　forces　had　done　a　more　thorough　job；　this　time。
They　had　left　no　walls　of　the　chapel　standing。　They　had　demolished　its　columns；　brought　down
its　roof。　They　had　burned　what　was　left　of　its　pews；　and　smashed　its　altar　beyond　all　hope　of
reclamation。　The　smell　of　cordite　still　hung　heavy　in　the　air；　as　did　the　altogether　more　rotten　stench
of　death。
Blonsky　jabbed　at　the　nearest　corpse　with　his　toe；　turned　it　over　to　inspect　it　properly。　He　didn’t
want　to　stoop；　didn’t　want　to　get　closer　to　it　than　he　already　was。　It　was　a　mutant；　of　course。　Its　grey
fur　was　matted　with　dark　blood；　beneath　its　torn　blue　smock。　It　might　have　been　one　of　the　loyalists
they　had　met；　one　to　which　they　had　talked。　He　couldn’t　tell。　They　all　looked　the　same　to　him。
“What　happened　here？”　asked　Steele。　Gavotski　told　him　about　the　mutants；　their　chapel　and　their
apparent　desire　to　help。　Steele　frowned　and　said　nothing。　Blonsky　guessed　that　he　was　unhappy
about　his　men　allying　themselves　with　the　impure；　but　he　didn’t　want　to　question　his　sergeant’s
judgement；　not　in　front　of　the　troopers。
“Anyway；”　sighed　Gavotski；　“it　seems　they　got　what　they　wanted。　They　died；　fighting。　For　the
Emperor。”
108
“It　must　have　happened　just　after　we　left；”　said　Palinev。　“Maybe　just　a　few　minutes　after。　Do
you　think　any　of　them　escaped？”
Gavotski　shrugged。　“Without　a　full　search　of　the　rubble…”
“Either　way；”　said　Steele；　“it　looks　like　we　are　on　our　own　after　all。”　With　a　sidelong　glance　at
Gavotski；　he　added；　“And　perhaps　it’s　best　that　way。”
Blonsky　couldn’t　have　agreed　more。　“The　only　good　mutant；”　he　muttered　with　some
satisfaction；　“is　a　dead　mutant。”
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CHAPTER　NINETEEN
Time　to　Destruction　of　Cressida：　01。29。22
The　spaceport　lay　at　the　eastern　edge　of　the　hive；　on　one　of　its　mid…levels。　Steele　knew　the　way；　of
course；　thanks　to　his　brief　inspection　of　the　city　maps　the　day　before。
And　so；　for　the　second　time；　he　found　himself　in　the　back　of　a　rickety　old　truck；　pressed　in
against　his　comrades。　Grayle　and　Barreski　had　taken　the　cab；　still　in　their　black　robes　—　although
Steele　doubted　whether　the　disguises　would　do　them　much　good；　not　with　every　heretic　in　the　hive
on　their　trail。
They　had　been　driving　for　some　time　when　he　felt　the　truck　swerve；　heard　its　tyres　squeal；　felt　an
impact　with　its　front　bumper。　“What’s　happening　up　there？”　he　yelled。
“We’ve　been　seen；　sir；”　Barreski’s　voice　came　back　through　the　partition　that　separated　them。
“A　bunch　of　cultists。　Grayle　tried　to　run　them　down　—　got　a　few　of　them；　too　—　but　two　more
escaped。”
“And　they’ll　run　to　the　nearest　vox…caster；”　sighed　Mikhaelev。
Steele　feared　that　he　was　right。　Until　now；　he　had　been　banking　on　the　hope　that　their　enemies
didn’t　know　where　they　were　heading；　didn’t　know　they　had　lost　their　own　transport。　The　bulk　of
the　Chaos　forces；　with　luck；　would　be　guarding　the　hive’s　exits；　leaving　a　clear　run　to　the　Ice
Warriors’　real　objective。　Now；　that　hope　was　lost。　Now；　all　they　could　do　was　try　to　reach　the
spaceport　first。
Steele　hammered　on　the　partition；　and　shouted　to　Grayle　to　put　his　foot　down。
Confessor　Wollkenden　had　woken　half　an　hour　ago；　looking　nauseous。　He　had　stared　at　the　faces
of　each　of　the　Ice　Warriors　in　turn；　before　drawing　his　knees　up　to　his　chest　and　resting　his　forehead
on　them；　shutting　out　the　world。　Steele　had　collected　dry　rations　and　water　from　his　troopers；　and　the
confessor　had　consumed　them　greedily；　but　he　hadn’t　moved　since　nor　spoken　a　word。
He　looked　up　now；　though　—　and　in　a　loud；　clear　voice；　he　said；　“Is　this　transport　appropriate
for　a　war　hero？　I　will　have　somebody’s　head　for　this。　This　engine　should　be　silent。　We　don’t　want
him　to　hear；　to　come　down　here。　Is　it　almost　time　to　eat？　They’re　waiting　for　me　to　address　them。
They　need　me　to　give　them　hope；　and　the　strength　to　resist。”
The　others　were　looking　at　each　other；　at　the　roof；　anywhere　but　at　the　confessor。　Steele　shared
their　discomfort。　He　had　been　worried　about　Wollkenden　since　he　had　found　him　in　the　dungeons；
had　feared　that　whatever　Mangellan　had　done　to　him　had　broken　his　mind。　He　had　pushed　that　fear
to　the　back　of　his　thoughts；　concentrated　on　the　job　at　hand。　Now　he　had　no　choice　but　to　face　it。
“You’re　free；　confessor；”　he　said。　“Mangellan　isn’t　coming。　He　can’t　hurt　you　any　more。　Do　you
remember　me？　I’m　Colonel　Stanislev　Steele。　I　rescued　you。　I　just　need　you　to　be　patient；　to　be
strong；　and　we’ll　get　you　out　of　here。　We’ll　get　you　to　a　doctor。　They　can　treat　your…　fever。”
“I　still　have　some　water　left；”　offered　Palinev；　“if　you　think　that　might…　I　mean；　if　the
confessor…”
Wollkenden　looked　Steele　in　the　eye；　and　he　said；　“I’ll　say　a　prayer　for　us。”
Steele　smiled。　“I’m　sure　we　would　all　appreciate　that；　sir。”
“And　you　will　kill　him　for　me；　won’t　you？”
“You　don’t　have　to　worry　about　that；　confessor。　In　a　few　hours’　time；　there　will　be　nobody　alive
on　this　planet。　Mangellan　will　be—”
110
“I　don’t　mean　him；　not　the　one　with　the　words。　I　mean　the　big　bruiser　in　the　cloak；　the　one　who
punched　me　in　the　face。　You　will　make　him　suffer；　won’t　you？　You　will　make　him　pay　for
presuming　to　lay　his　hands　on　a　holy　man。”
Steele　was　saved　from　having　to　answer　that；　as；　again；　something　smacked　into　the　truck　and
made　its　frame　judder。　“What　the　hell　has　Grayle　hit　now？”　complained　Blonsky；　who　had　been
caught　unawares　and　banged　his　head。　But　Steele　and　a　couple　of　the　others　had　felt　that　this　impact
was　different　from　the　first　—　and　his　enhanced　hearing　confirmed　it。
It　wasn’t　the　front　of　the　truck　that　had　hit　something　this　time；　rather　that　something　had　landed
on　its　roof…　something　that　was　moving　about　up　there。　Something　with　a　roaring　chainsword…
The　tip　of　the　sword　came　slicing　through　the　roof　of　the　cab；　above　Grayle’s　head。　He　let　out　a　cry；
and　slid　down　in　his　seat　until　he　could　only　just　see　through　the　windscreen；　barely　see　where　he
was　going。　He　spun　the　wheel　hard　right；　left；　right　again；　and　pumped　the　pedals　furiously。　Beside
him；　Barreski　was　tossed　back　and　forth；　and　Grayle　could　hear　muffled　protests　from　the　rear
compartment。
But　he　could　not　shake　his　unwanted　passenger。
The　Chaos　Space　Marine　clung　on；　and　his　sword　cut　deeper。　It　was　rising　and　falling；　in　a
sawing　motion；　scoring　a　seam　across　the　roof。　Then　the　sword　was　withdrawn；　and　Grayle　saw
gauntleted　fingers　scrabbling　at　that　seam；　widening　it。
Barreski　fired　at　those　fingers　—　he　had　replaced　his　lasgun　with　one　taken　from　a　dead　Traitor
Guardsman　in　the　street　—　and　the　hand　was　withdrawn；　stung。　A　moment　later；　it　returned；　looking
for　and　finding　fresh　purchase。　And　then；　with　a　terrible；　nerve…jangling　wrench；　the　Chaos　Space
Marine　peeled　back　the　roof；　and　Grayle　gaped　up　into　his　leering　face；　could　smell　his　fetid　breath。
“Everybody；　brace　yourselves！”　he　yelled；　and　he　stamped　on　the　brake　pedal。
This　time；　the　Chaos　Space　Marine　was　taken　by　surprise。　He　was　reaching　for　Grayle　when　the
truck　jolted　to　a　halt　and　catapulted　him　forwards。　He　hit　the　windscreen；　shattering　the　plexiglas；
and　then　slid　sideways　across　the　bonnet　and　disappeared　from　sight。　Feverishly；　Grayle　slammed
the　engine　into　reverse。　He　felt　his　front　right　wheel　bouncing　over　an　obstacle　in　the　road　—　the
monster’s　head；　he　hoped；　although　whether　this　was　the　case　or　not　it　seemed　to　make　little
difference。
The　Chaos　Space　Marine　was　already　back　on　his　feet；　his　head　down；　charging　towards　the
retreating　truck　like　an　enraged　bull。　He　looked　a　mess；　his　black　armour　barely　clinging　to　his
battered　body。　His　left　arm　had　been　amputated　at　the　elbow；　presumably　by　the　teeth　of　the　sewer
creature。　One　of　his　eyes　was　missing。　He　had　dropped　his　chainsword；　but　he　was　wielding　his　bolt
pistol。
Grayle　couldn’t　outpace　him；　not　driving　backwards。　He　forced　his　back　wheels　around；　made　to
set　off　along　another　street。　He　was　too　late。　The　Chaos　Space　Marine　had　caught　up　to　them。　He
braced　himself　against　the　bumper　so　that　no　matter　how　hard　the　engine　strained；　or　how　fast　the
wheels　spun；　they　couldn’t　gain　headway　against　him。
And　now　the　Chaos　Space　Marine　stooped；　took　the　truck　by　its　axle；　lifted　it；　one…handed；　and
Barreski　was　banging　on　the　partition；　yelling；　“Everybody　out！”　and　he　and　Grayle　kicked　open
their　doors；　and　leapt　as　the　Chaos　Space　Marine　flexed　a　powerful　shoulder　and　gave　the　truck　one
final　twist…
Blonsky　and　Mikhaelev　had　been　the　nearest　troopers　to　the　back　doors；　and　thus　the　first　two　out　of
them。　Steele　had　made　sure　that　Wollkenden　went　next；　helping　him　along　with　a　push　to　the　back
when　he　had　hesitated。　The　confessor　had　fallen　awkwardly；　landing　face　first　in　the　street；　and
Steele　had　leapt　down　beside　him　and　hoisted　him　to　his　feet。
All　of　which　had　left　Anakora；　Gavotski　and　Palinev　in　the　back　of　the　truck　as　it　was　flipped
over。
111
Anakora　had　been　in　the　doorway；　poised　to　jump；　when　the　world　had　spun　in　front　of　her。　The
next　thing　she　knew；　she　was　on　her　back；　tangled　up　with　her　comrades；　on　a　plasteel　surface　that
had　been　upright　a　moment　ago。　She　had　bumped　her　head；　and　black　spots　were　crowding　her
vision；　threatening　to　close　in；　to　enshroud　her　in　their　darkness。　She　would　not　give　in　to　them。
She　could　hear　las…fire；　and　the　answering　bark　of　a　bolt　pistol。　She　couldn’t　just　lie　there；　letting
the　others　down。
Palinev　was　the　first　to　extricate　himself　and　crawl　away。　Anakora　watched　as　his　blurry　shape
was　swallowed　by　a　fierce　white　light　—　streetlights；　she　realised；　shining　in　from　outside。　The
truck　was　on　its　side；　and　one　of　its　back　doors　—　the　higher　one　—　had　fallen　shut。　The　lower　door
had　been　snapped　from　its　hinges。　Its　frame　had　crumpled　a　little；　but　there　was　still　room　to　squeeze
through　it。
“Are　you　OK？”　asked　Gavotski；　waving　a　hand　in　front　of　Anakora’s　eyes。
She　gritted　her　teeth　and　gave　a　determined　nod。　Gavotski　followed　Palinev　through　the　bright
white　square。　Anakora　blinked；　wishing