Ice Guard(科幻战争)-第33部分

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were　smiling　upon　me　again　that　day。　And　then；　along　you　came。”
Mangellan　pushed　himself　up　from　his　stone　ledge；　leaned　over　Steele　so　that　his　lips　almost
touched　the　colonel’s　ear。　Steele　tried　to　flinch　from　him；　but　his　chains　held　him　too　tightly。　A
feeling　of　revulsion　shuddered　through　his　body。　He　called　up　his　bionic　eye’s　HUD　again；　but　still
it　gave　only　the　same　discouraging　report：　thirty…five　seconds…　thirty…five　seconds…
“The　irony　of　it；”　Mangellan　crooned；　“is　that　your　masters　do　not　value　you。　They　would　snuff
out　your　life　in　a　second　for　the　chance；　the　merest　chance；　of　getting　their　important；　pious　man
back。　But　I　have　met　the　both　of　you；　spoken　with　you；　and　I　know　the　truth　of　it。　I　know　that　you；
Colonel　Stanislev　Steele；　are　a　far　better　man；　a　far　stronger　man；　than　Wollkenden　will　ever　be。”
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“This　is　it；”　said　Palinev；　staring　at　his　compass。　“This　must　be　it！”　Then　he　looked　at　the　walls　of
yet　another　nondescript　tunnel；　and　he　felt　a　lot　less　confident。　“At　least；　I　think…　If　the　colonel
were　here…”
“You　haven’t　let　us　down　yet；　Trooper　Palinev；”　said　Gavotski。　“If　you　say　we’re　underneath　the
Ice　Palace；　then　that　is　where　we　are。”
Grayle　reached　up　to　touch　the　tunnel　roof；　and　snatched　his　hand　away　with　a　wince。
“Ice　burn！”　he　exclaimed。　“And　it’s　been　getting　colder　for　the　past　half…hour；　since　before　we
ran　into　that　creature。　The　Ice　Palace　is　up　there；　all　right。”
“The　question　is；”　said　Blonsky；　“where　is　this　supposed　entrance　to　it？”
Mikhaelev　shrugged。　“Hardly　likely　to　be　in　plain　sight；　is　it？　Maybe　we　should　have　turned
back　after　all。”
“We　discussed　this；”　said　Gavotski　firmly。　“It　would　have　wasted　too　much　time。　No；　our　guides
have　brought　us　most　of　the　way；　and　they　assured　us　that　there　is　a　way　into　the　palace　from　down
here。　We　just　have　to　find　it。”
“If　we　can’t；”　offered　Palinev；　'I　could　go　back　to　the　chapel。　I　can　find　my　way…　at　least；　I
think　I　can。　I　could　fetch　us　another　guide。”
“Maybe；”　said　Gavotski；　“but　only　as　a　last　resort。　We’ve　all　seen　what’s　out　there。　I　don’t　want
anyone　wandering　about　down　here　alone。　For　now；　I　suggest　we　search　the　tunnels　from　root　to
floor。　And　remember　what　Grayle　told　us：　the　Ice　Palace　is　at　least　a　kilometre　square。　The　entrance
could　be　anywhere　in　that　area。　Remember　this　too：　Confessor　Wollkenden　is　in　that　palace；　as　is
Colonel　Steele。　All　that　stands　between　us　is　a　thin　layer　of　masonry　—　and　we　aren’t　going　to　let
that　stop　the　Ice　Warriors　of　Valhalla；　now　are　we？”
Mangellan’s　words　still　echoed　in　Steele’s　head；　making　him　feel　sick。
He　imagined　he　could　still　feel　the　condensation　from　the　high　priest’s　rancid　breath　on　his　ear；
and　he　itched　to　be　able　to　move　his　hand；　to　wipe　it　away。
“I　think　it’s　time；”　Mangellan　had　whispered　to　him。　“Time　for　Wollkenden　to　leave　this　mortal
plane；　to　take　his　place　as　the　plaything　of　Khorne；　of　Slaanesh；　of　Tzeentch；　of　Nurgle。　The
ceremony　will　take　place　at　dawn。　That　is　the　usual　time；　I　believe；　for　rituals　of　this　kind。　If　you
wish；　Colonel　Steele；　I　might　let　you　watch。　It　may　help　to　concentrate　your　thoughts。”
Alone　again；　he　had　released　a　primal　scream　from　the　depths　of　his　stomach；　and　had　struggled
against　his　chains；　although　he　knew　he　had　no　hope　of　breaking　them。
There　was　nothing　he　could　do。
So；　he　had　tried　to　sleep　instead；　so　that　when　his　chance　did　come　he　would　be　ready　to　take　it。
He　had　succeeded　only　in　dozing　fitfully；　woken　each　time　by　the　pain　in　his　muscles　and　along　his
spine；　and　by　the　urgent　ticking　of　his　internal　chrono；　and　the　ever…present　drip…drip…dripping　from
somewhere　outside。
And　this　time；　by　the　creaking；　squealing；　scraping　of　his　cell　door。
Again；　the　light　of　a　lamp…pack　spilled　over　him。　This　time；　Steele　didn’t　flinch。　His　left　eye
closed　to　protect　itself；　but　his　right　eye　adjusted　instantly　to　the　glare。　He　didn’t　question　this　at
first；　didn’t　see　anything　unusual　in　it。　It　took　a　moment　for　him　to　realise　what　it　meant。　By　the　time
he　had；　he　was　focused　on　the　short；　stooped　figure　that　had　come　shuffling　into　the　cell；　glancing
back　over　its　shoulder；　moving　with　what　appeared　to　be　a　clumsy　attempt　at　stealth。
“Well；　well；”　said　Steele；　“so　Mangellan’s　dog　has　slipped　its　leash。”
Furst　snarled　up　at　him；　even　with　Steele　hunched　over　as　he　was；　the　mutant’s　head　barely　came
up　to　his　chin。　'You　can　insult　me　all　you　like；　but　you　will　regret　your　slurs　against　my　master。　I　will
make　you　scream　for　the　mercy　of　death。”　The　mutant　produced　his　knife　again；　brandishing　it
before　his　prisoner’s　eyes　—　but　Steele　was　more　concerned　with　what　he　was　holding　in　his　other
hand。
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“Mangellan　doesn’t　know　you’re　here；　does　he？”　he　said。　“So　much　for　loyalty　among　heretics。”
“The　master　will　be　grateful　that　I　have　dealt　with　his　enemy。　He　will　see　that　I　can　take　the
initiative　too。”
“Will　he？　I　know　you’re　only　trying　to　be　like　him；　Furst　—　a　traitor　like　him　—　but　the　last
thing　a　traitor　can　afford　to　tolerate　when　he　gains　power　is　the　treachery　of　others。　He　will　squash
you；　Furst；　like　the　loathsome　bug　you　are。”
Steele’s　goading　was　working。　Furst　was　pressed　right　up　against　him；　reaching　up　with　the　tip
of　his　knife；　tracing　faint　lines　across　the　colonel’s　face。　The　mutant’s　breathing　was　excited；
ragged；　and　Steele　could　see　flecks　of　drool　on　his　chin　and　feel　the　shape　of　a　bunch　of　keys　against
his　stomach。
“Join　us　or　die；”　gurgled　Furst；　“that　is　the　choice　you　were　given　by　the　master。　Well；　I　can
make　that　choice　easy　for　you。　I　can　use　this　blade　to　carve　the　mark　of　Chaos　Undivided　into　your
face。”
“Do　your　worst；”　said　Steele　calmly；　“but　do　this　one　thing　for　me；　would　you；　Furst？　Have　the
courage　to　look　me　in　the　eye　as　you　do　it。”
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CHAPTER　SIXTEEN
Time　to　Destruction　of　Cressida：　09。53。21
The　mutant　Furst　didn’t　have　time　to　scream。
The　energy　discharge　from　Steele’s　bionic　eye　hit　him　square　in　the　face；　scorched　his　skin；
made　his　hair　stand　on　end；　froze　the　open…mouthed　leer　on　his　lips。　It　also　propelled　him　backwards
into　the　stone　wall　of　the　cell；　which　he　hit　with　the　back　of　his　skull。　He　slumped　to　the　floor；
leaving　a　smear　of　blood；　his　eyes　rolling　into　his　head；　his　tongue　hanging　out。
And　Steele　had　the　keys。　He　had　managed　to　wrap　two　fingers　around　them　before　he　had
struck；　had　almost　lost　them　as　Furst　had　been　wrenched　away　from　him　but　had　kept　his　hold；
pulling　them　out　of　the　mutant’s　hand。　He　gathered　them　carefully　into　his　palm；　securing　his　grip；
trying　not　to　be　impatient；　to　rush。
There　were　nine　keys　in　the　bundle；　and　Furst’s　lamp…pack　had　been　extinguished　when　he’d
fallen。　Steele　worked　by　touch　alone；　analysing　the　shape　of　each　key　until　he　found　the　one　that
matched　the　padlock　on　his　chains。　If　he　hunched　his　left　shoulder；　thrust　his　elbow　back；　twisted　his
wrist；　he　could　just　about　reach　it。　After　a　couple　of　false　starts；　scrabbling　and　scratching　in　the
dark；　the　teeth　of　the　key　clicked　into　place　in　the　hole。　It　was　the　sweetest　sound　he　had　heard　all
day。
As　the　chains　fell　away；　Steele’s　legs　almost　buckled　beneath　him。　It　took　all　the　will…power　he
had　not　to　fall；　to　crouch　beside　Furst；　to　take　his　knife　and　his　lamp…pack；　and　then　to　half…stagger；
half…fall　out　through　the　door　that　the　mutant　had　left　open；　out　into　the　cavern。　Steele’s　right　eye
was　blind　again；　but　his　augmented　ear　told　him　that　he　was　alone　down　here。　Fortunately　for　him。
He　found　a　damp；　uneven　wall　to　lean　against；　to　cool　his　forehead　—　for　he　was　burning　up；
despite　the　freezing　temperature。　He　gave　his　muscles　time　to　adjust　to　being　able　to　stretch　again。
His　throat　was　parched；　and　there　was　condensation　on　the　wall　—　but　it　was　stained　purple　by　the
clinging　fungus；　and　Steele　didn’t　dare　drink　it。
When　he　felt　able；　he　pushed　himself　up；　took　his　own　weight；　lit　his　purloined　lamp…pack　and
inspected　his　surroundings。　He　could　see　six　cell　doors；　but　the　cavern　meandered　off　into
passageways　and　alcoves　that　were　hidden　from　him。　If　he　upped　the　gain　on　his　acoustic　enhancers；
he　could　hear　the　soft　breathing　of　people　behind　some　of　those　doors。　Some　were　asleep；　letting　out
the　occasional　snore；　while　others　stirred；　clanking　their　chains；　and　someone　was　sobbing　to
himself。
Each　door　had　a　small　inspection　hatch；　secured　by　a　metal　bar。　Steele　opened　the　nearest　and
raised　his　lamp；　letting　just　enough　light　fall　into　the　cell　for　him　to　make　out　its　occupant。　It　was　an
Imperial　Guardsman；　in　the　tattered　remains　of　a　red　and　gold　Validian　flak　jacket；　chained　as　Steele
had　been　—　and　to　judge　by　the　smell　of　him；　he　had　been　there　for　some　time。　He　looked　up　at　the
colonel　with　a　wretched　expression；　and　gasped；　“Help…　help　me…　for　the　love　of　the　Emperor；
help…”
It　was　with　some　regret　that　Steele　closed　the　panel；　leaving　the　man　to　his　fate。　He　would　have
been　dead　weight；　more　hindrance　than　help。　And　his　suffering　would　be　over　soon；　Steele　told
himself。　As　soon　as　the　virus　bombs　fell。
He　opened　another　hatch；　and　something　heavy　threw　its