Ice Guard(科幻战争)-第9部分

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appeared　at　its　top；　and　levelled　a　lasgun；　able　to　take　his　time　and　choose　his　target。
It　was　all　the　excuse　Pozhar　needed。　He　abandoned　the　fallen；　bleeding；　dying　Borscz　and
charged　back　into　the　fray。
The　burning　mutant　could　ignore　Blonsky　and　Anakora　no　longer。
It　let　go　of　Gavotski；　who　dropped　and　rolled　in　the　snow　to　extinguish　the　flamer　chemicals　that
had　stuck　to　his　greatcoat。　The　mutant　lashed　out　at　Anakora；　but　she　parried　its　talon　with　her
lasgun。　For　an　instant；　the　creature　was　wide　open　to　Blonsky；　and　he　took　great　pleasure　in　driving
his　bayonet　through　one　of　its　narrow　eyes。　It　howled　and　recoiled；　but　he　stayed　with　it；　driving　the
spike　further　into　its　head　like　a　corkscrew；　simultaneously　blasting　at　its　simian　face　with　las…fire。
The　merest　touch　of　this　aberration；　the　brush　of　its　fur　against　his　elbow；　the　spatter　of　its　blood
on　his　skin；　made　him　feel　unclean。　Like　the　cultists　on　the　other　side　of　the　rise；　like　all　of　the
insane　devotees　of　Chaos；　it　must　have　been　human　once。　It　must　have　known；　back　then；　that　this
was　what　the　future　held　for　it；　must　have　seen　what　lay　at　the　end　of　its　chosen　path。
Blonsky　had　no　sympathy　for　it。　It　deserved　what　its　gods　had　done　to　it。
The　mutant　died　at　last；　as　did　one　of　its　fellows；　succumbing　to　a　second　flamer　burst。　That　left
just　two。　One　was　being　kept　occupied　by　the　nimble　Palinev；　while　the　other　had　just　lost　a　claw　to
Grayle　and　Mikhaelev’s　beams　and　had　dropped　to　its　knees。　Blonsky　set　his　sights　on　Palinev’s
opponent；　but　was　suddenly　tackled　by　Anakora。　For　a　second；　as　they　fell；　he　wondered　if　her　mind
had　snapped　as　well；　if　she　had　chosen　this　moment　to　turn　traitor　—　but　then；　a　las…beam　rent　the
air　above　his　head；　and　he　realised　that　she　had　just　saved　his　life。
A　cultist　had　attained　the　top　of　the　rise；　a　perfect　sniping　position　—　and；　had　he　fired　again；
with　both　Blonsky　and　Anakora　on　the　ground；　he　could　have　killed　one　of　them。　Instead；　he　saw
Pozhar　charging　him；　gun　blazing；　and　he　turned　his　fire　upon　the　young　trooper　—　and　Pozhar　was
hit；　a　glancing　blow　to　the　shoulder。　The　force　of　the　blast　knocked　him　head　over　heels；　and　for　the
second　time　in　as　many　minutes　he　came　rolling　back　down　the　slope。
Emboldened　by　his　success；　the　cultist　became　careless。　He　lifted　himself　up　to　get　a　better　angle
on　his　fallen　foe；　to　finish　him　off　—　and　two　las…beams　ripped　through　him。　As　the　sniper　fell；　his
killers；　Blonsky　and　Anakora；　started　forward；　joined　again　now　by　Gavotski。　The　other　cultists　had
mistimed　their　advance；　must　have　hung　back　too　long　behind　their　mutant　cannon　fodder；　because
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the　opposing　factions　met　at　the　top　of　the　rise。　The　Ice　Warriors　were　the　first　to　react；　and　three　of
their　foes　were　dead　before　they　could　return　fire。
The　cultists；　despite　their　greater　numbers；　were　outmatched。　They　were　untrained；　unarmoured
and；　in　some　cases；　even　unarmed。　The　outcome；　of　the　battle　was　already　beyond　doubt　when
Pozhar　waded　back　into　it。　He　wielded　his　lasgun　in　his　left　hand；　his　right　hanging　uselessly　by　his
side；　and　most　of　his　shots　went　wild。
A　cultist　slipped　in　beneath　the　Ice　Warriors’　beams；　and　was　suddenly　in　Blonsky’s　face；　trying
to　push　a　knife　through　the　layers　of　his　greatcoat。
“You’re　too　late；　Guardsman；”　the　foul　heretic　hissed。　“Mangellan　has　the　power　on　this　world；
and　if　you　wish　to　live　you　will　renounce　your　decadent　Emperor　and　turn　to—”
The　threat　was　never　completed。　Blonsky　seized　his　attacker’s　wrist　and　twisted　it　until　it　broke。
The　cultist　screamed；　and　the　blade　dropped　from　his　numbed　fingers。
Blonsky　raised　his　bayonet　to　the　wretch’s　throat；　but　remembered　that　Gavotski　had　wanted　a
hostage。　So；　as　much　as　it　went　against　his　instincts　to　do　so；　he　turned　his　lasgun　around　and　drove
its　butt　into　the　cultist’s　skull；　knocking　him　cold。
Barreski　skirted　the　final　mutant；　trying　to　find　an　angle　from　which　he　could　torch　it　without　setting
light　to　Palinev　too。　The　scout　was　still　keeping　clear　of　the　mutant’s　raking　talons；　ducking　and
weaving；　twisting　and　turning　—　but　the　mutant　was　relentless；　starting　to　wear　him　down。
Barreski　ventured　a　little　closer　to　it。　He　thought　it　was　too　busy　with　Palinev　to　notice　him。　He
was　wrong。　The　mutant　swung　around；　and　suddenly　he　was　the　focus　of　all　its　attention。　With　a
powerful　swipe；　it　knocked　the　flamer　from　his　hands。　Barreski　recovered　his　wits　only　just　in　time
to　avoid　a　second　talon；　which　would　have　ripped　out　his　throat。　He　had　no　way　of　fighting　back；
didn’t　have　time　to　draw　his　lasgun　—　and　he　knew　that　he　was　far　less　agile　than　Palinev；　and
couldn’t　evade　many　more　attacks　like　that　one。
Mikhaelev　and　Grayle　came　to　his　assistance。　They　had　finished　with　their　opponent；　and　turned
their　las…fire　upon　his。　The　mutant　shuddered　with　the　impacts　of　the　beams　to　its　back　—　but；　to
Barreski’s　horror；　its　red　eyes　never　flickered　from　him。　Somewhere　in　its　disturbed　little　mind；　the
mutant　must　have　known　it　was　finished；　and　it　was　determined　not　to　be　distracted　from　its　prey；
determined　to　take　at　least　one　of　its　foes　down　with　it。
Palinev　saw　what　was　happening　and　flung　himself　at　the　mutant；　heedless　of　the　danger　of
incoming　las…beams。　He　bought　Barreski　a　second；　but　no　more　than　that；　before　the　mutant　flung
him　aside　with　an　almost　casual　shrug。
And　then　it　pounced　on　Barreski；　and　although　he　was　prepared　for　its　weight　he　was　still　driven
down　onto　one　knee；　struggling　to　push　the　rancid　creature　away　from　him。　It　raised　its　talon　and　he
knew　that　this　would　be　the　killing　blow。
And　then　the　air　itself　exploded。　The　mutant　stiffened　and　crumpled　and　Barreski　was　left
gaping　at　its　blackened　corpse；　wondering　what　had　just　happened。
His　nostrils　were　filled　with　the　stink　of　burnt　ozone；　and　he　glanced　to　the　sky　and　wondered　if
somehow；　through　some　incredible　twist　of　fate　or　perhaps　even　through　divine　intervention；　he　had
been　saved　by　a　thunderbolt　from　on　high。
Then　he　saw　Steele；　standing　unaided；　looking　down　at　the　dead　mutant　with　an　expression　of
grim　satisfaction　—　and　Barreski　saw　that　the　colonel’s　right　eye　was　black；　smouldering　a　little。
“A　small　enhancement　I　had　made　on　Pyrites　a　few　years　back；”　explained　Steele　gruffly；　seeing
that　Barreski；　Mikhaelev　and　Grayle　were　all　staring　at　him。　“A　one…shot　electrical　weapon　of　last
resort。　It　will　take　about　twenty　hours　to　recharge　now；　and　my　right　eye　will　be　useless　until　it
does。”
He　looked　down　at　the　mutant　again；　and　smiled。　“Still；　some　things　are　worth　a　little
inconvenience。”
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CHAPTER　NINE
Time　to　Destruction　of　Cressida：　33。16。04
Borscz　was　dead。
It　wasn’t　easy　to　tell；　at　first。　He　was　covered　in　blood；　but　much　of　it　was　from　the　mutant　that
he　and　Pozhar　had　slain。　The　Ice　Warriors　had　to　shift　its　carcass　before　they　could　get　close　to　him；
close　enough　to　tell　that　he　was　no　longer　breathing。
Anakora　wanted　to　bury　him；　but　Gavotski　pointed　out　that　they　lacked　the　tools　to　dig　in　the
frozen　ground。　They　could　do　it；　but　it　would　take　them　most　of　the　night。
“And　it’s　not　as　if　a　normal…sized　hole　would　do；”　Grayle　muttered。
Anyway；　they　all　agreed　that　it　would　make　little　difference　at　this　point。　Below　ground　or　above
it；　Borscz’s　body　inent　virus　bombs；　reduced　to　a　protoplasmic　slime。
And　after　all；　the　last　thing　any　Guardsman　expected　when　he　went　to　war　was　a　decent　burial；　his
remains；　he　knew；　were　far　more　likely　to　be　trampled　into　the　mud　of　the　battlefield。
So；　in　the　end；　they　gathered　around　their　fallen　comrade　and　Gavotski　said　a　short　prayer　for　his
soul；　and　that　was　that　—　although　Anakora　still　insisted　they　take　Borscz　onto　the　Aquila　with
them；　and　seal　him　into　its　hold；　sparing　him　at　least　the　attention　of　passing　predators。
“If　only　he’d　been　a　better　shot；”　said　Barreski　with　a　shake　of　the　head。　“If　he　hadn’t　been　so
keen　to　go　toe　to　toe　with　that　thing…”
“Then　it　would　have　been　Pozhar　lying　there　instead　of　him；”　Anakora　pointed　out　crisply。　“You
saw　how　resistant　the　mutants　were　to　our　las…fire。”
Apart　from　the　loss　of　Borscz；　casualties　were　mercifully　light。　Palinev　had　a　mild　concussion
from　where　the　last　mutant　had　backhanded　him；　and　Gavotski　had　a　couple　of　second…degree　burns；
which　he　had　dressed。　And　Pozhar’s　firing　arm　was　in　a　sling；　which　aggrieved　the　young　trooper　no
end。
Steele　was　back　on　his　feet；　but　he　seemed　deeply　tired　—　and；　although　no　one　would　have　said
it　to　his　face；　even　a　little　shell…shocked。　Gavotski　covered　for　him　by　taking　charge　again。　He　sent
Anakora；　Barreski　and　Grayle　onto　the　lander　to　ensure　that　no　one　was　hiding　inside。　Grayle　was
also　to　report　back　on　the　state　of　the　engines。　Two　cultists　remained　alive；　and　so　Blonsky　and
Mikhaelev　were　detailed　to　bind　them　with　tent　ropes　from　their　rucksacks。
Steele　examined　one　of　the　mutants’　corpses。
“It　looked　like　this；”　he　said　to　Gavotski。　When　the　sergeant　looked　puzzled；　Steele　expounded；
“The　creature　I　saw　in　the　forest。　It　had　grey　fur；　like　this　one　does。　Some　sort　of　adaptation　to　the
cold；　I　expect。　But　if　it　was　a　mutant　I　saw；　then　where　did　it　go？　The　cultists　didn’t　know　we　were
coming　until　I…　until　they　heard　us。”
“So；　who　did　it　report　to？”　Gavotski　concluded　the　thought。　“Who　knows　we’re　here？　And　how
many　more　mutants　like　this　one　are　still　out　there？”
Steele　didn’t　need　to　ask　what　had　happened　while　he　had　been　unconscious；　since　he　had　plunged
into　the　lake。　His　bionic　eye　had　recorded　all　the　details　—　every　visual　detail；　at　least　—　and　stored
them　for　his　later　inspection。
The　whole　episode　had　left　him　feeling　deeply　uneasy。　The　organic　parts　—　the　real　parts　—　of
his　brain　had　shut　down　in　the　water；　but　the　mechanical　parts　had　kept　him　going。　He　was　grateful
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to　be　alive；　of　course　—　but　the　thought　that　his　augmetics　could　function　without　him；　even　in　a
limited　capacity；　chilled　him　to　the　marrow。
The　two　prisoners　had　started　to　come　round。　Mikhaelev　and　Blonsky　had　carried　them　to　the
camp…fire；　and　were　standing　guard　over　them。　Despite　his　weariness；　Steele　had　chosen　to　conduct
the　interrogation。　He　deliberately　started　with　the　toughest…looking　of　the　pair；　the　one　least　likely　to
break。　He　was　a　heavy…set　man　with　a　tattooed　face　and　a　broken　wrist　—　this　latter　courtesy　of
Blonsky　—　who　returned　the　colonel’s　glare　with　mute　defiance。
“I　know　what　you’re　thinking；”　said　Steele。　“You　think　you　have　nothing　to　gain　by　answering
my　questions　because　I　won’t　let　you　live　anyway。　You’re　right。　But　you　can　die　quickly；　and　as
easily　as　possible；　or　I　can　make　you　suffer。”
The　cultist　spat　in　his　face。
Steele　nodded　at　Blonsky；　who　took　the　man　s　wrist　and　manipulated　it；　grinding　the　shattered
bones　into　each　other。　The　cultist　suppressed　his　screams　for　almost　a　full　second。　By　the　time　the
Ice　Warrior　had　finished　with　him；　there　were　tears　in　his　eyes。　Still；　he　hadn’t　said　a　word。
Nevertheless；　the　technique　was　having　an　effect　—　not　on　this　cultist；　maybe；　but　on　his　fellow。
The　other　man　was　smaller；　younger　than　the　first；　and　abjectly　horrified　by　what　he　had　just　seen。
“Very　well；”　said　Steele　calmly；　“it　looks　like　this　one　has　made　his　choice。　You　may　as　well
dispose　of　him；　Blonsky。　We’ll　talk　to　his　friend　instead。”
Blonsky　kne。　He　planted　his　boot　in　the　larger　cultist’s　back；　and
propelled　him　face　first　onto　the　fire。　He　started　to　scream　again；　and　struggled　to　stand　—　but
whenever　he　came　close　to　so　doing；　Blonsky’s　foot　was　ready　to　kick　him　back　into　the　flames。
It　took　the　cultist　a　long　time　to　die；　and　by　the　time　he　did　the　air　was　rank　with　the　smell　of　his
burning　flesh。　His　smaller　comrade　was　so　afraid　that　he　was　shaking；　and　he　had　vomited　into　his
lap。　He　looked　like　he　might　be　about　to　do　this　again；　as　Steele　turned　to　him　with　the　smile　of　a
wolf。
“I…　I　didn’t　want　to　join　them；”　the　cultist　bleated；　“I　swear。　It’s　just　that；　once　it　started；　it
spread　within　days；　and　soon…”
“Mangellan？”　prompted　Blonsky。
The　cultist　nodded；　seeming　glad　that　the　Ice　Warrior　knew　the　name；　that　he　hadn’t　had　to
reveal　it　himself。　“No　one　knew　where　he’d　come　from；　he　was　just…　suddenly；　his　followers　were
everywhere；　in　the　streets；　and　no　one　seemed　able　to　stop　them；　and　my　family；　my　friends；　they
were　saying　that　Mangellan　was　right；　that　we　owed　the　Emperor　nothing；　that　He　couldn’t　protect
us。　Then　they　were　banging　on　our　doors；　dragging　us　outside；　putting　guns　to　our　heads　and　making
us　swear　allegiance　to　them；　and　we　had　no　choice。”
“There　is　always　a　choice；”　growled　Blonsky。
“When　this　ship　landed　here；”　said　Steele；　indicating　the　Aquila　behind　him；　“it　was　carrying　an
important　member　of　the　Adeptus　Ministorum。　He　could　have　helped　your　people；　could　have
guided　them　back　to　the　path　of　righteousness。”
The　cultist　nodded　eagerly。　“I　did　hear　something；　that　they’d　found　someone…　a　religious　man。
Is　that　why　you’re　here？　Are　you　looking　for　him？”
“Do　you　know　where　he　is？”　asked　Steele。
“He…　he’s　dead；”　said　the　cultist。
Steele　saw　the　look　that　passed　between　Blonsky　and　Mikhaelev；　but　he　kept　his　own　gaze　fixed
on　the　prisoner。　Normally；　his　bionic　eye　would　have　enabled　him　to　count　the　beads　of　sweat　on　the
cultist’s　face　and　hands；　his　acoustic　enhancers　would　have　tuned　in　to　the　skip　of　the　man’s
heartbeat　and　Steele　would　have　been　able　to　tell　if　he　was　lying　or　not。　With　his　eye　out　of　action
and　only　the　heartbeat　to　go　on；　it　was　harder　to　make　that　judgement。　Despite　the　inconvenience；　he
felt　oddly　liberated。
“You　saw　him　die？”　Steele　asked。
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“I　just　thought；”　said　the　cultist；　“I　mean；　he　must　be　by　now。　The　confessor　was　brought　into　the
hive；　Iota　Hive；　three　days　ago。　I　saw　him　being　marched　up　the　steps　of　the　Ice　Palace。　Mangellan
has　him。”
“Where　is　it；”　asked　Steele；　“this　Ice　Palace？　Can　you　take　us　there？”
The　prisoner　blanched　at　the　prospect。
“Please；”　he　stammered；　“I’ve　told　you　all　I　know。　Don’t　make　me…　I　can’t　go　up　against　him；
he’s　too…　he’s　too　strong。　You　can’t　beat　him。　It　took　Mangellan　less　than　a　month　to　drive　the
Imperial　Guard　out　of　Iota　Hive；　hundreds　of　thousands　of　them。　Hundreds　of　thousands　of　men
dead；　and　you…　There　are　only　a　handful　of　you。”
Steele　had　made　up　his　mind　about　the　cultist　now；　but　still　he　glanced　up　at　Blonsky　and
Mikhaelev　for　a　second　and　third　opinion。
“Do　you　believe　him？”　he　asked；　and　the　troopers　confirmed　that　they　did。　“Good；”　said　Steele。
“I　do；　too。”
He　drew　his　laspistol；　and　shot　the　young　cultist　through　the　head。
The　Aquila　had　been　gutted。　Even　its　seats；　once　luxuriously　appointed　for　the　carriage　of
dignitaries；　had　been　torn　out；　and　the　mutants　had　left　their　slobber　everywhere。　Still；　once　the
passenger　compartment　had　been　cleaned　up　a　little　and　blankets　laid　out；　it　made　an　adequate
shelter　for　nine　dog…tired　soldiers。
Much　more　than　that；　the　ship　could　not　offer。　Grayle　had　been　unable　to　start　the　engines；　to　no
one’s　surprise；　and　the　comms　were　fried。　Barreski；　however；　had　found　a　portable　vox…caster；　not
too　badly　damaged。　The　only　thing　it　lacked　was　power　—　and　a　few　hours　of　sunlight；　even
through　Cressida’s　grey　clouds；　would　provide　that。　He　thought　he　could　have　it　working　by　midmorning。
Steele　could　then　contact　a　naval　vessel；　report　the　loss　of　the　Termite　and　arrange　an
airlift　for　after　they　had　found　Wollkenden。
For　the　first　time　in　half　a　day；　Grayle　could　see　a　way　off　this　world；　and　the　prospect　cheered
him　—　almost　enough　for　him　to　overlook　the　small　fact　that　an　army　of　Chaos　worshippers　stood
between　the　Ice　Warriors　and　their　goal。
He　and　Barreski　had　taken　the　first　shift　of　the　night　watch；　being　in　better　condition　than　most。
Grayle　sat　in　the　Aquila’s　hatchway；　alert　for　any　sign　of　an　approaching　foe；　hearing　only　the　deep
breathing　of　the　sleeping　men　behind　him。　Barreski　was　over　by　the　embers　of　the　campfire；　laying
out　a　number　of　broken　machine　parts　in　the　scant　light。　It　was　unlikely　he’d　be　able　to　salvage
anything　more　of　use；　but　he　wanted　to　be　sure。
It　was　Grayle；　then；　who　saw　it：　a　movement；　behind　the　rise　on　which　the　Ice　Warriors　and　the
cultists　had　fought。　He　had　only　glimpsed　it　out　of　the　corner　of　his　eye；　couldn’t　be　sure　that　there
had　been　anything　at　all。　But　Barreski　had　picked　up　on　his　body　language；　and　ceased　his　tinkering。
They　watched　the　dark　shape　of　the　rise　for　a　while；　but　saw　nothing；　heard　nothing。　At　last；
Grayle　signalled　to　his　fellow　tanker　that　he　was　going　to　take　a　closer　look。
While　Barreski　covered　him　with　his　lasgun；　Grayle　crept　forward；　keeping　low。　As　he　climbed
the　rise；　he　lowered　himself　onto　his　stomach　and　crawled　the　final　few　metres。　He　lay　there　for　a
few　minutes；　overlooking　the　field　through　arched；　feeling　the　wet
snow　seeping　into　his　greatcoat；　letting　his　eyes　adjust　to　every　shadow　in　the　darkness　until　he　was
sure　it　was　no　threat。
There　it　was　again！
It　had　just　disappeared　behind　another　natural　contour：　a　grey…furred　figure　with　an　odd
shambling　gait。　Quickly；　Grayle　weighed　up　his　options。　If　this　was　indeed　a　mutant；　and　it　was
alone；　then　he　and　Barreski　could　handle　it。　They　had　no　need　to　wake　the　others　—　and　anyway；　by
the　time　they　had　done　so；　it　might　have　escaped；　might　have　gone　to　fetch　more　like　itself。　But
then；　what　if　it　was　not　alone？　What　if　it　had　been　sent　to　lead　him　into　an　ambush？
53
He　didn’t　think　that　was　likely。　It　was　trying　too　hard　not　to　be　seen。
With　a　quick　warning　gesture　to　Barreski；　to　stay　where　he　was；　Grayle　plunged　down　the　rise
and　went　after　the　creature。
“Colonel　Steele。　Colonel　Steele；　sir。”
Steele　was　sitting　up　before　he　had　opened　his　eyes；　some　inbuilt　danger　sense　putting　him　on
the　alert。　Immediately；　he　checked　his　internal　chrono；　which　told　him　that　he　had　been　asleep　for
just　under　three　hours。　He　was　still　blind　in　his　right　eye。　Palinev　was　beside　him；　had　just　shaken
him　awake；　and　around　them　five　more　Ice　Warriors　were　beginning　to　stir。
Something　was　burning；　but　Steele　couldn’t　pinpoint　the　source　of　the　smell。
“I　heard　a　shot；”　reported　Palinev；　and　Steele　could　tell　from　his　comrades’　body　language　that
Gavotski；　Blonsky　and　Anakora　had　been　woken　by　it　too。　It　irked　him　that　he　had　not；　that　his
acoustic　enhancers　had　apparently　failed　him　again。
“It　sounded　close；”　said　Anakora；　“maybe　just　outside。”
“And　I　don’t　see　any　sign　of　Barreski　or　Grayle；”　added　Palinev。
Gavotski　and　Pozhar　had　drawn　their　lasguns　and　were　making　for　the　open；　empty　hatchway。
They　peered　around　its　frame；　and　Pozhar　reported　that　there　was　nothing　out　there。　A　second　later；
he　added；　“No；　no；　wait；　I　can　see　someone；　running　towards　us。　It　looks　like…　It’s　Barreski；　and
here　comes　Grayle。　It　looks　like　they’re　okay。”
“Maybe　they　were　just　taking　pot…shots　at　rats；”　said　Mikhaelev。
“I　don’t　think　so；”　said　Blonsky。　“I　think　Trooper　Anakora　was　wrong。　I　don’t　think　that　gunshot
came　from　outside　the　ship　at　all。”
Everyone　turned　to　look　at　him；　and　Steele　saw　that　he　was　holding　the　vox…caster；　now　a
smoulder