Ice Guard(科幻战争)-第30部分

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purple　fungus　crazing　through　it。
The　archway　was　protected　by　four　Traitor　Guardsmen　—　and　by　a　heavy　portcullis；　this　too
formed　from　the　ice。　Steele　remembered　Barreski’s　confident　words　in　the　forest：　“Just　give　me　a
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couple　of　flamers；　and　I　guarantee　you　there’ll　be　nothing　left　standing　here　in　ten　minutes。”　If　only
it　could　be　so　easy。
On　his　way　here；　Steele　had　seen　at　least　two　hundred　more　traitors；　many　of　them　attaching
themselves　to　his　entourage　as　it　passed；　basking　in　their　fellows’　victory。　His　comrades；　he
accepted　now；　hadn’t　a　hope　of　beating　those　odds；　of　making　it　here。　At　best；　they　could　keep　some
of　the　traitors　occupied　outside　the　palace。
The　rest；　he　feared；　was　up　to　him。
Pozhar　had　never　felt　less　comfortable。
The　mutants　had　offered　him　and　his　three　comrades　seats；　which　they　had　accepted；　and　food；
which　they　hadn’t。　Gavotski　had　suggested　that　Grayle　and　Pozhar　get　some　sleep　while　they　could；
while　he　and　Blonsky　kept　watch。　Grayle　had　nodded　off　with　his　chin　on　his　chest；　but　Pozhar
couldn’t　rest。
Most　of　the　mutants　stayed　well　away　from　their　guests；　in　deference　to　their　sensibilities；　or
perhaps　just　in　fear　of　arousing　their　wrath　again。　However；　the　most　mutated　of　them；　the　one　that
had　spoken　to　them　earlier；　now　shuffled　over　to　them；　and　announced　that　it　had　bad　news。
“Your　commander　has　been…　captured；”　it　wheezed。　“He　fought…　well；　but　was　outclassed　by
a…　a　Traitor　Space　Marine。　However；　we　have　found　your…　remaining　four　comrades…　bringing
them　here。”
Since　Tollenberg；　none　of　the　mutants　had　introduced　themselves　by　name。　Pozhar　wondered　if
they　had　names　any　more。　Perhaps　they　considered　themselves　unworthy；　had　come　to　think　of
themselves；　as　he　would　once　have　thought　of　them—as　he　still　thought　of　them—as　mere　monsters。
“Colonel　Steele　isn’t　dead？”　asked　Gavotski。
“They　are　taking　him　to…　the　Ice　Palace；”　said　the　mutant；　“to　Mangellan。”
“Then　we　can　still　save　him；”　said　Gavotski。　“If　you　can　do　as　you　said；　if　you　can　get　us　into
the　palace；　we　can　rescue　the　colonel　and　Confessor　Wollkenden。　But　we　have　to　make　our　plans
soon。　We　have　less　than　fourteen　hours。”
The　mutant　inclined　its　shaggy　head；　graciously；　and　withdrew。
Blonsky　watched　it　go　with　a　shudder。
“They’re　fooling　themselves；”　he　muttered；　“or　lying　to　us。　If　a　man’s　faith　is　strong；　he　can
resist　the　corruption　of　Chaos；　the　Emperor　has　taught　us　that。　To　have　been　mutated　as　these
wretches　have—”
“But　they’re　fighting　it！”　said　Pozhar。
“Too　late。”　Blonsky　turned　to　Gavotski。　“We　can’t　trust　them；　sergeant。　We　don’t　know　what
they　did　to　deserve　this；　don’t　know　if　they　are　cowards　or　traitors　or　just　weak　—　but　whichever　it
is；　they　are　already　lost。　Even　if　they　are　sincere　in　their　intentions；　they　cannot　be　cleansed　of　their
sins。　Sooner　or　later；　Chaos　will　take　their　minds　—　and　when　that　happens；　they　will　turn　on　us。”
Gavotski　just　nodded。　“I　know；”　he　said。
And　his　words　were　like　a　knife　blow　to　Pozhar’s　heart。
The　interior　of　the　Ice　Palace　was　no　less　impressive　than　its　exterior　—　and　no　less　well…guarded。
Steele　was　guided　through　what　seemed　like　legions　of　Traitor　Guardsmen；　across　an　enormous
hallway　—　formed　from　the　ice；　of　course；　but　lushly　appointed　with　velvet　rugs　and　wall　hangings。
The　hall　was　festooned　with　elaborate　ice　sculptures；　lent　a　certain　beauty　by　soft　and　perhaps
sorcerous　inner　lights　—　until　Steele　drew　close　enough　to　make　out　their　twisted；　daemonic　shapes。
A　frozen　staircase　swept　in　an　elegant　curve　upwards　to　the　balconies　and　balustrades　of　the　next
floor。　He　was　dragged　past　this；　into　a　small；　dark　corner；　and　bundled　through　a　nondescript
doorway。
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Behind　this；　steps　—　stone　steps　—　stretched　downwards　into　an　oppressive　gloom。　There　was
scarcely　room　to　descend　in　single　file；　so　Steele　was　set　on　his　feet　and　prodded　in　the　back　with　a
lasgun　muzzle；　forced　to　walk　with　a　traitor　close　in　front　of　him　and　another　close　behind。
Rough…hewn　stone　walls　opened　up　around　them；　lit　only　by　the　glows　of　the　traitors’　lamppacks。
Steele　could　hear　an　insistent　drip；　echoing　and　re…echoing　until　even　he　could　not　have
pinpointed　its　source。　He　felt　as　if　he　was　sinking　into　the　depths　of　the　underhive；　except　that　he
knew　he　was　still　high　above　ground　level。　The　cavern　appeared　natural　enough　—　but　Steele
suspected　that；　if　he　could　have　looked　with　his　bionic　eye；　he　would　have　found　tell…tale　signs　that
it　was　man…made。
Mangellan　had　decided；　it　seemed；　to　complement　the　splendour　of　his　castle　above　with　the
traditional　dungeons　below。
The　steps　were　streaked　with　ice　fungus；　some　of　them　treacherously　so。　Steele　contrived　to　slip；
and　to　fall　backwards；　toppling　the　unprepared　traitors　that　followed　him　like　a　row　of　dominoes。
Three　of　them　fell；　screaming；　over　the　side；　and　were　broken　on　the　rock　floor　below。　It　didn’t　ease
the　colonel’s　predicament　at　all　—　the　casualties　were　immediately　replaced；　new　hands　grasping
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　lea