Ice Guard(科幻战争)-第6部分

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cultists　had　survived；　and　was　training　a　lasgun　on　him。　He　closed　his　eyes；　heard　the　familiar
cracking　retort；　and　expected　it　to　be　the　last　thing　he　would　ever　hear。
Then；　he　opened　his　eyes　again　to　find　the　cultist　dead　on　the　floor。
An　Ice　Warrior　stood　over　the　corpse；　one　whose　name　Palinev　did　not　know。　“You　the　scout；
Palinev？”　the　man　grunted；　and　he　nodded　blankly。
“Must　be　something　up　with　your　comms；”　said　the　Ice　Warrior。　“They’ve　been　trying　to　contact
you　for　the　past　half　hour。　Steele　wants　you。”
They　had　lined　up　beside　the　Termite；　Steele　and　his　handpicked　squad：　the　nine　troopers　to　whom
he　would　be　trusting　his　life；　and　more　importantly；　the　success　of　his　assignment。
They　stood　with　their　heads　bowed　in　silence；　their　hats　and　helmets　removed；　as　a　priest　laid　his
hands　upon　each　of　them　in　turn；　and　bestowed　the　blessing　of　the　God…Emperor　upon　them。　Steele
cursed　his　enhanced　sense　of　smell；　it　took　all　the　self…control　he　had　not　to　choke　on　the　pungent
cloud　that　billowed　from　the　holy　man’s　incense　burner。
The　priest’s　arrival　had　been　a　surprise　to　them　all。　Steele　had　known；　of　course；　that　the
Ecclesiarchy　had　a　special　interest　in　his　mission；　but　this…　For　an　entire　squad　to　be　sanctified　like
this　was　almost　unheard　of。　Still；　the　ritual　provided　a　rare　moment　of　calm；　of　inner　peace；　despite
the　background　sounds　of　gunfire　and　explosions；　and　engines　and　dying　from　the　none…too…distant
war。　Steele　had　welcomed　that　and　been　re…energised　by　it。
He　noted　that　Pozhar　was　not　quite　so　appreciative。　The　young　trooper　had　been　the　last　of　the
squad　to　arrive；　bounding　up　to　an　indulgent　Gavotski　full　of　energy；　and　bursting　with　stories　about
what　he　had　been　through　to　get　here。　His　body　was　like　a　coiled　spring；　his　hands　twitching　with
the　desire　to　get　the　ceremony　done　with　and　get　on　with　the　business　of　finding　someone　to　kill。
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When　Blonsky’s　turn　came；　his　chest　swelled　with　pride　and　a　righteous　smile　pulled　at　his　thin
lips。　Mikhaelev；　in　contrast；　held　himself　rigid；　contained；　and　betrayed　no　reaction　to　his　blessing　at
all。　Beside　him；　Anakora　reacted　to　the　priest’s　touch　with　a　little　shudder；　and　a　single　tear　dripped
from　her　down…turned　eyes。
Then　it　was　done　—　and；　with　a　final　nod　and　a　munificent　smile　in　Steele’s　direction；　the　priest
ambled　away。　The　colonel　took　a　deep　breath　as　his　moment　of　peace　ended　and　he　prepared　to　get
back　down　to　business。　He　nodded　at　his　sergeant；　to　indicate　that　it　was　time　—　and　Gavotski
stepped　forward；　cleared　his　throat　and　addressed　the　squad。
“You　may　have　heard　the　name　Confessor　Wollkenden；”　he　said。　“You　may　have　heard　that　he
came　here　to　Cressida　a　month　ago；　to　minister　to　its　people；　to　help　them　resist　the　corruption　of
their　world。　You　may　also　have　heard　that　the　confessor　is　one　of　the　finest　men　the　Imperium　has
bred。　It　is　thanks　in　part　to　his　leadership　that　the　war　in　the　Artemis　system　was　won。”
In　fact；　Steele　hadn’t　heard　Wollkenden’s　name　before　this　morning；　and　he　doubted　whether
Gavotski　had　either。　He　had　been　left　in　no　doubt；　however；　of　the　stock　placed　in　him　by　the
Ecclesiarchy；　that　they　considered　him　a　virtual　saint。
“Three　days　ago；”　Gavotski　continued；　“the　confessor　was　en　route　to　an　outlying　settlement　to
the　north　of　here；　intending　to　make　contact　with　a　group　of　loyalist　resisters。　His　shuttle　came　under
fire。　A　vox…message　from　its　pilot　confirmed　that　an　emergency　landing　had　been　made；　and　that
Confessor　Wollkenden　was　alive。　The　message　was　interrupted。　There　has　been　no　word　since　then。
The　area　in　which　the　confessor’s　ship　came　down　was　a　forest；　until　it　fell　to　Chaos　forces　three
and　a　half　years　ago。　Since　then；　of　course；　conditions　on　the　ground　have　changed　considerably。
Intelligence　is　sparse；　but　we　know　that　there　has　been　a　great　deal　of　glacial　activity　in　the　area；
which　has　rendered　much　of　it　almost　impassable…　Almost。”　At　this；　Gavotski　gave　the　Termite　a
proud　pat。
“Of　course；　it　is　possible　that　Confessor　Wollkenden　is　dead。　Our　job；　comrades；　is　to　find　out
for　sure；　and；　if　he　is　alive；　to　bring　him　back。　The　Imperial　Guard　cannot　spare　the　resources　for　a
full…scale　search　and　rescue　at　present　—　and　it　is　felt　anyway　that　a　stealthy　extraction　has　more
chance　of　success。　That　is　why　Colonel　Steele　and　I　are　taking　only　one　squad　through　the　glaciers；
and　it　is　why　each　of　you　has　been　chosen：　because　your　respective　commanders　tell　us　that　you　are
the　best　the　Valhallan　319th　has　to　offer。”
“Pardon　me；　sergeant；”　said　Trooper　Borscz；　“but　are　we　to　understand　that　Colonel　Steele　is　to
lead　this　mission？”
“That　is　correct；　soldier；”　said　Gavotski。　“You　have　a　problem　with　that？”
“No；　sergeant。”　In　fact；　Borscz　seemed　positively　enthused　by　the　idea；　and　he　looked　at　Steele
with　admiration　blazing　in　his　deep　blue　eyes。
The　colonel　cleared　his　throat；　and　said；　“There　is　one　thing　that　Sergeant　Gavotski　has　not　yet
mentioned。”　It　was　the　first　time　the　troopers　had　heard　his　voice；　and　each　of　them　became　visibly
more　attentive。　“You　are　aware；”　said　Steele；　“that　Cressida　is　being　evacuated。　What　you　have　not
been　told；　because　this　information　is　strictly　need…to…know；　is　that　an　Exterminatus　order　has　been
signed。”
Palinev　gave　an　audible　gasp；　but　the　others　absorbed　the　news　silently；　grimly。
“Naval　warships　are　on　their　way；”　said。　Steele。　“Cressida　will　be　virus…bombed　from　orbit；
completely　sterilised。　As　a　world　still　rich　in　mineral　resources；　it　is　hoped　that　some　day　it　can　be
recolonised。　Until　that　day—”
Gavotski　finished　the　thought　for　him。　“The　Chaos　forces　may　have　won　this　battle；”　he　said；
“but　they　will　not　live　long　to　enjoy　their　spoils。”
“All　of　which；”　said　Steele；　“means　that　we　have　a　deadline。　I　was　told　this　morning；　in　no
uncertain　terms；　that　the　virus　bombing　would　take　place　in　forty…eight　hours’　time；　whether　we；　or
indeed　Confessor　Wollkenden；　were　still　on　Cressida　or　not。　A　little　over　three　hours　has　passed
since　then。
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“Gentlemen　and　lady；　I　suggest　we　get　the　Termite　loaded　up。　The　chrono　is　already　ticking。”
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CHAPTER　FOUR
Time　to　Destruction　of　Cressida：　44。49。09
“You　should　not　have　come　back。”
The　passenger　compartment　was　raucous　with　the　roar　of　the　Termite’s　engine　and　with　the
chatter　of　ten　Ice　Warriors；　packed　together　in　the　confined　space；　getting　to　know　one　another；
assessing　each　other’s　strengths。　Still；　Blonsky’s　voice　cut　across　the　noise；　and　brought　the　chatter
to　a　halt。
“You　should　not　have　come　back；”　he　said　again；　and　his　angular　face　was　set　into　a　stony
scowl；　his　dark　green　eyes　piercing　his　victim。
Pozhar　had　been　telling　the　tale　of　how　he　had　found　himself　behind　enemy　lines；　and　of　his
heroic　return　—　although　privately；　Gavotski　thought　he　might　have　exaggerated　some　of　his　more
remarkable　feats。　The　young　trooper　was　cut　off　in　mid…flow；　and　he　didn’t　know　what　to　say；　he
just　gaped　at　his　accuser。
“Your　chances　of　survival　were　minimal；”　said　Blonsky；　“and　if　you　had　been　killed　it　would
have　been　by　a　shot　to　the　back：　a　senseless　death；　and　a　dishonourable　one　in　the　Emperor’s　eyes。
He　had　carried　you　to　the　enemy’s　heart。　Instead　of　thinking　of　your　own　survival；　you　should　have
used　your　chance　to　strike　at　that　heart。”
“But…　but　I　did　survive；”　said　Pozhar。　“I　survived；　and　I　brought　back　some　civilians；　and…
and　some　vital　information　about　troop　movements　in　the　underhive。”　He　stole　a　sidelong　glance　at
Steele；　presumably　to　see　if　he　agreed　with　Blonsky’s　assessment。　The　colonel’s　expression；
however；　remained　neutral。
“I　don’t　think　it’s　helpful　to　talk　about　what　might　have　been；”　Gavotski　said。　“As　Trooper
Pozhar　has　proved；　his　situation　wasn’t　hopeless。　He　was　able　to　come　back　to　us；　to　fight　another
day　in　the　Emperor’s　service。”
Emboldened　by　the　sergeant’s　support；　Pozhar　rounded　on　Blonsky；　and　said；　“Anyway；　how
long　do　you　think　I’d　have　lasted；　surrounded　by　traitors；　if　I’d　started　shooting？　How　many　do　you
think　I’d　have　taken　down？　Five？　Six？　I　killed　three　times　that　many　before　morning　rations；　and　I’ll
do　the　same　tomorrow；　and　the　next　day。　That’s　how　I　serve　the　Emperor！　How　about　you；　Trooper
Blonsky？　How　many　kills　have　you　claimed　today？　Do　you　really　want　to　talk　about　whose　life　is
the　more　valuable？”
Blonsky’s　stare　didn’t　waver。　“You　should　not　have　come　back；”　he　repeated　with　the
unshakeable　conviction　of　a　witch　hunter。
The　Termite　gave　a　judder；　and　Grayle；　seated　at　the　controls；　called　back　over　his　shoulder；
“We’ve　just　left　the　hive；　sir。　No　sighting　of　the　enemy　as　yet。”
“How　do　we　stand　on　that　escort？”　asked　Gavotski。
“Looks　like　we　can　expert　two　Chimeras　to　meet　us；”　said　Grayle。　“Still　waiting　for　a　vox　from
Ursa　Platoon　to　see　if　we　can　make　it　three。”
“You　clap　eyes　on　the　enemy；　Grayle；”　said　Barreski；　“you　just　point　me　in　their　direction。　I’ll
show　them　we　don’t　need　bodyguards！”　He　was　stationed　at　one　of　the　six　hull…mounted　flamers；
squinting　along　its　barrel；　making　minute　adjustments　to　its　sights。　His　enthusiasm　was　appreciated；
but　Gavotski　knew　that　the　Termite　was　not　built　for　combat。　It　didn’t　have　the　firepower。　That　was
why　they　had　left　the　hive　by　an　eastern　gate；　from　a　zone　relatively　untouched　by　the　battle　to　the
north。　For　the　first　leg　of　their　journey；　they　would　be　travelling　above　ground；　and　they　hoped　to
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avoid　the　battle　altogether。　Due　to　pressure　of　time；　however；　they　couldn’t　give　it　as　wide　a　berth　as
they　would　have　liked。
“If　we　do　come　under　attack；”　said　Borscz；　“I　would　rather　get　out　there　and　trust　to　the　strength
of　my　own　two　hands　than　suffocate　or　freeze　to　death　in　this　tin　can。”　He　did　look　uncomfortable；
his　massive　frame　sandwiched　between　Barreski　and　Anakora。　However；　as　one　of　the　first　troopers
into　the　Termite；　Borscz　appeared　to　have　chosen　his　seat　purposely　to　avoid　having　to　man　a
flamer。
“You　would　agree　with　me；　I　think；　my　friend；”　he　continued；　leaning　forward　to　give　Palinev　an
overly　familiar　pat　on　the　shoulder。　The　force　of　the　blow　almost　knocked　the　smaller；　slighter　man
to　the　floor。　“As　a　scout；　you　must　rely　on　your　own　abilities　to　stay　silent　and　hidden；　yes？　Not
much　use　to　you　inside　a　great　clunking　machine。”
“You　are　joking；　right？”　said　Barreski。　“Without　machines；　our　ancestors　would　never　have　won
the　Great　War。　It　was　machines　like　this　one　that　turned　the　tide；　and　allowed　them　to　drive　the
filthy　orks　from　our　world。”
“The　machines　would　have　been　little　use；”　Borscz　countered；　“without　good；　strong　men　inside
them。　It　is　not　in　the　machines　that　our　ancestors　found　the　will　to　defeat　the　invaders；　Trooper
Barreski；　but　rather　in　their　own　beating　hearts。”
Anakora　played　little　part　in　the　conversation。　She　had　introduced　herself　to　the　others；　given
accurate　but　short　answers　to　their　questions　about　her　war　record；　but　that　was　all。　She　was　acutely
aware　that　they　were　all　here　because　of　their　proven　expertise　in　their　fields。　She　had　no　right　to　sit
among　them。
Few　Valhallan　women　served　in　the　Im