Ice Guard(科幻战争)-第30章

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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　itself　at　the　door。　Steele　leapt　back　by
reflex；　and　narrowly　avoided　a　clawed　hand　that　swiped　at　him　through　the　aperture。　He　discouraged
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it　with　a　blow　from　the　hatch’s　locking　bar；　and　its　owner　—　another　grey…furred　mutant　—　howled
and　recoiled。
The　vile　creature　was　still　howling　a　minute　later；　and　Steele　cursed　it　under　his　breath。　He　had
taken　cover　as　best　he　could　behind　a　rocky　outcrop；　and　was　wondering　if　he　dared　make　a　sprint
back　to　his　cell；　to　hide　in　there。
He　kept　his　good　eye　fixed　on　the　steps；　expecting　Traitor　Guardsmen　to　appear　at　their　head。　He
cast　around　for　a　weapon　with　which　to　greet　them　if　they　did；　but　could　see　only　rocks。　He
collected　a　few　anyway；　but　was　relieved　not　to　have　to　use　them。　The　mutant’s　howls　subsided　into
a　quiet　whimpering；　and　Steele　assumed　that　the　traitors　were　more　than　used　to　hearing　sounds　of
anguish　from　down　here　and　so　had　not　bothered　to　investigate。
He　recognised　the　prisoner　in　the　third　cell　at　once。
He　had　seen　him　only　once　before；　and　then　only　in　holographic　effigy　—　but　he　had　studied　the
image；　committed　it　to　his　enhanced　memory。
Confessor　Wollkenden　looked　thinner　than　he　had　in　his　hologram。　He　was　also　dehydrated；　his
skin　stretched　like　parchment；　but　his　bone　structure　was　unaltered。　His　prominent　jaw　was
unmistakeable。　The　hologram；　Steve　saw　now；　had　also　been　an　old　one；　showing　the　confessor　in
his　prime。
To　his　surprise；　Wollkenden　was　not　chained；　but　instead　lay　curled　on　a　filthy　mattress；　asleep；
wisps　of　white　hair　splayed　about　the　oval　crown　of　his　head。　Steele　fumbled　with　Furst’s　keys；
almost　dropping　them　as　his　hands　trembled　in　anticipation。　He　opened　the　cell　door；　stepped　inside；
leaned　over　the　prone　form　of　its　occupant　and　tried　to　shake　him　awake。　Wollkenden　didn’t
respond　at　first；　and　for　a　moment　Steele　feared　that　he　might　already　be　dead；　that　he　might　have
come　all　this　way　for　nothing。　Then；　as　he　tapped　the　confessor　lightly　on　his　pale　cheeks；　he　rolled
over　onto　his　back；　let　out　a　soft　groan；　and　his　eyelids　fluttered。
“Confessor　Wollkenden。　Confessor。　It’s　OK；　I’m　going　to　get　you　out　of　here。　Can　you　hear　me？
Confessor？”
Steele　glanced　over　his　shoulder　anxiously。　He　didn’t　know　how　much　time　he　had。　Somebody
had　to　know　that　Furst　had　come　down　here　—　and；　if　not；　they　might　yet　find　a　set　of　keys　missing
and　come　to　investigate。
He　took　Wollkenden’s　right　arm；　draped　it　around　his　shoulders；　put　his　arm　around　the
confessor’s　waist　and　hauled　him　to　his　feet。
“We　need　to　find　you　some　water；”　he　muttered。　“We　need　to　find　us　both　some　water。”
He　carried　Wollkenden　out　into　the　cavern；　walked　him　up　and　down。　He　was　gratified　to　feel
the　confessor　responding；　finding　his　strength　again　—　but　worried；　at　the　same　time；　that　he
wouldn’t　find　enough。
“Who…　who　are　you？”　the　confessor　asked　hoarsely。
“Colonel　Stanislev　Steele；　sir；　of　the　Valhallan　319th。”
“They…　sent　a　regiment　to　rescue　me？�

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第30章

Ice Guard(科幻战争)-第30章

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