Ice Guard(科幻战争)-第19部分

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the　people　dead　—　and　of　those　who　had　survived；　most　would　have　joined　their　attackers　and　left
with　them；　marching　on　to　wage　their　next　bloody　battle。
Even　so；　the　sounds　of　other　vehicles　and　of　pounding　machinery　still　thrummed　through　the
hive；　and　occasionally　a　voice　could　be　heard　raised　in　maniacal　laughter　or　a　tortured　scream。
All　in　all；　it　was　a　sobering　scene　—　especially　for　these　nine　soldiers　who　had；　only　yesterday；
been　fighting　to　defend　a　hive　much　like　this　one。　The　difference　was；　thought　Grayle；　that　Alpha
Hive　had　been　attacked　from　without；　its　walls　beaten　down。　The　reason　that　Iota’s　walls　were　still；
for　the　most　part；　standing　was　that　it　had　suffered　a　far　worse　fate。　Iota　had　been　attacked　from
within。
When　he　had　started　the　truck’s　engine；　it　had　roared　like　an　asthmatic　lion。　The　unnatural　sound
had　reverberated　from　the　roof　and　the　walls　until　it　had　seemed　loud　enough　to　bring　them　all
crashing　down。　Gavotski　had　handed　him　a　tattered　robe；　torn　from　a　dead　cultist；　and　offered　the
same　to　Barreski　who　was　seated　beside　Grayle　now　in　the　cab。　Neither　of　them　had　been　happy
about　touching　the　foul　cloth；　wrapping　it　about　their　shoulders；　but　it　had　had　to　be　done。
“The　cultist　I　questioned　talked　about　an　Ice　Palace；”　Steele　had　said；　“the　stronghold　of　the
Chaos　leader　in　these　parts。　He　didn’t　exactly　provide　a　map；　but　there’s　no　doubt　that　it　will　be　the
most　defensible　and　defended　building　in　the　city。　That　means　it　will　be　as　near　as　damn　it　to　the
centre；　and　most　likely　on　one　of　the　higher　levels。　We’ll　have　to　make　our　way　inwards　and
upwards；　get　as　close　as　we　can　to　our　goal　before　the　enemy　knows　we’re　here。”
So　far；　Grayle　had　seen　precious　little　of　the　enemy　—　just　a　few　shapes　flitting　across　high
walkways；　and　at　one　point　a　cloaked　figure　slumped　in　the　gutter；　singing　to　herself。　That　changed
as　he　guided　his　truck　around　a　tight　corner　and　was　confronted　by　at　least　twenty　of　them。
It　looked　like　they　had　been　celebrating　here；　among　the　ruins。　There　were　bottles　everywhere。
The　revelry　had　died　down　now；　though；　and　most　of　the　cultists　were　lying　around　listlessly。　That
was；　until　they　clapped　eyes　on　the　new　arrivals。　A　half…hearted　cheer　went　up　at　the　sight　of　what
the　drunken　cultists　took　to　be　friends；　partners　in　their　recent　victory　—　and　they　rushed　to
surround　the　truck；　banging　on　its　sides　and　rocking　it　on　its　suspension。
Grayle　fought　down　his　natural　disgust；　forced　a　tight　smile　onto　his　lips　and　gave　a　thumbs…up
sign　through　the　window。　Beside　him；　Barreski　tried　to　do　likewise；　but　his　smile　didn’t　quite　reach
his　eyes。　The　cultists　were　probably　too　far　gone　to　notice　anyway；　thought　Grayle。　The　real
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problems　would　arise　if　they　were　to　open　the　truck’s　back　door　and　find　a　squad　of　Valhallan　Ice
Warriors　seated　inside。
He　had　to　get　away　from　here　—　but　the　cultists　were　in　front　of　him　too；　slowing　him　to　a　crawl
lest　he　crush　three　or　four　of　them　beneath　his　wheels。　The　temptation　to　do　just　that　was　almost
irresistible。　However；　he　kept　his　cool；　and　was　soon　through　the　crowd；　able　to　pull　away　from
them。
A　moment　later；　Barreski　sat　bolt　upright　and　cried；　“Stop！　Stop　here！”　And　Grayle　stepped　hard
on　the　brakes；　although　he　couldn’t　see　the　reason　for　the　urgency。
Barreski　hopped　out　of　the　cab；　and　scurried　over　to　the　corpse　of　an　Imperial　Guard　officer。
Grayle　almost　laughed　with　relief。　There　was　no　danger；　his　fellow　tanker　had　just　noticed　a
salvageable　piece　of　kit　and　hadn’t　been　able　to　resist　it。　He　peeled　a　metal　gauntlet　from　the　dead
Guardsman’s　hand；　and　his　face　was　alight　with　enthusiasm　as　he　climbed　back　into　his　seat　with　it。
“Nice　glove；”　said　Grayle。　“What’s　it　supposed　to　be？”
“A　power　fist；　of　course；”　said　Barreski；　sounding　surprised　that　his　comrade　didn’t　know。　“You
put　this　on　your　arm；　and　it　generates　an　energy　field；　lets　you　punch　with　the　strength　of　ten　men。　It
doesn’t　seem　too　badly　damaged；　either。　The　casing　is　a　little　scorched；　that’s　all。　Never　used　one
before；　but　I’ve　seen　them　in　action。　I’m　pretty　sure　I　can　work　out　how　to　activate　it。”
“Activate　it？”　said　Grayle。　“You　can　barely　even　lift　it！”
“Once　this　thing　is　working；”　said　Barreski；　“it’ll　lift　itself。”
At　that　moment；　knuckles　rapped　on　the　partition　behind　them；　a　reminder　from　their　colonel
that　they　had　a　deadline。　Grayle　started　up　the　truck　again；　and　guided　it　into　an　area　of　relatively
untouched　streets；　where　the　going　was　a　little　easier　and　cover　more　plentiful。　The　habitats　of　the
lower…level　hive…dwellers　rose　up　around　them；　rows　of　tiny　windows　stretching　to　the　roof。
They　made　good　progress　for　a　couple　of　hours　—　but　eventually；　inevitably；　they　ran　into　more
cultists。　The　further　they　went；　the　more　they　saw；　no　matter　how　many　detours　Grayle　took　to　avoid
them。　Their　comings　and　goings　appeared　to　be　centred　around　a　large；　black　building。　It　was
obviously　a　manufactorum；　and　its　great　steaming　chimneys　signified　that　it　was　in　use。
He　performed　a　U…turn；　heading　back　into　the　dark　residential　sector。　He　pulled　up　in　the
shadows　just　out　of　range　of　a　sputtering　light；　and　when　Barreski　asked　him　why；　he　explained；
“There　are　just　a　few　too　many　heretics　out　there　for　my　liking。　Someone’s　bound　to　notice　us　soon；
and　start　asking　questions。”
He　had　been　intending　to　consult　Colonel　Steele；　to　ask　his　permission　to　abandon　the　truck。　He
was　surprised　to　find　his　comrades　already　disembarking　onto　the　street。
“I　think　you’re　right；　Grayle；”　Steele　said　—　and　Grayle　realised　that；　thanks　to　his　augmented
senses；　he　had　been　well　aware　of　everything　that　was　happening　outside　the　vehicle；　had　probably
heard　its　driver’s　every　word。　“It’s　far　too　much　of　a　risk　to　go　through　that　crowd。　It’s　time　we
headed　upwards。”
It　was　Palinev　who　found　the　lifter。
On　Gavotski’s　orders；　the　Ice　Warriors　had　spread　out　in　search　of　a　way　up　to　the　hive’s　higher
levels。　Creeping　down　an　unlit　street；　Palinev　had　found　himself　uncomfortably　close　to　the
manufactorum　that　Grayle　had　described。　He　had　seen　cultists　thronging　in　the　lit　area　before　it；　but
so　long　as　he　kept　close　to　the　wall　they　couldn’t　see　him　—　and　there　had　been　a　ladder　in　front　of
him。
He　had　climbed　it　carefully；　disappointed　to　find　that　it　led　only　to　a　high　bridge。　He　had　decided
to　scout　along　it　anyway　—　but　before　he　could　do　so；　his　attention　had　been　drawn　to　the　scene　laid
out　beneath　him。
The　manufactorum　had　no　roof。　This　appeared　to　be　by　design　rather　than　the　result　of　battle
damage；　as　all　six　of　its　walls　were　whole。　Palinev　was　looking　down　into　an　enormous；　round　vat
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filled　with　what　he　could　only　describe　as　liquid　fire。　Suspended　above　this　were　a　number　of　thick
chains；　attached　to　pulley　systems；　many　of　them　trailing　into　the　vat　itself…and　surrounding　the　vat
were　hundreds　of　cultists；　cheering　and　chanting　while　some　of　their　number　operated　the　levers　of
squat　grey　machines　in　precise；　arcane　sequences。
Palinev　could　feel　the　heat　of　the　fire；　but　that　wasn’t　the　only　thing　that　made　his　throat　dry。
This；　then；　was　the　Chaos　war　machine　at　work；　extracting　iron　from　Cressida’s　fertile　ore　as　the
Imperium　had　done　before　it；　using　foul　practices　to　fashion　that　iron　into　weapons；　armour；　vehicles
of　destruction。　Cressida　had　fallen；　but　its　occupiers　selves　for　the　next
conquest。
The　lifter　doors　were　tucked　around　the　corner　of　a　narrow　walkway；　out　of　sight　of　the　evil
below。　The　summoning　rune　was　lit；　so　Palinev　pressed　it　and　took　cover　as；　with　a　grinding　and　a
screeching　of　gears；　the　cab　rose　from　what　sounded　like　it　must　have　been　the　lowest　level　of　the
underhive。　The　lifter　was　functional；　and　empty；　so　Palinev　returned　to　the　others　to　report　his
discovery；　being　sure　to　keep　low　as　he　crossed　the　bridge　again。
A　few　minutes　later；　the　nine　Ice　Warriors　packed　themselves　into　the　cramped　cab；　and　Steele
activated　one　of　the　highest　runes　on　its　wall。
The　journey　upward　took　an　age。　The　wall　runes　lit　in　sequence　as　they　passed　each　of　the　hive’s
hundred…plus　levels。　Palinev　was　uncomfortably　aware；　as　he　was　sure　the　others　were；　that　were
anyone　to　hear　their　noisy　approach；　were　they　to　stop　the　lifter　for　any　reason；　then　its　occupants
would　be　sitting　ducks。
His　heart　sank　as　they　bumped　to　a　halt　and；　although　the　doors　failed　to　open；　the　cab　was　filled
with　a　soft　but　insistent　chime。
Gavotski　sighed。　“I　was　afraid　of　this。　We　can’t　go　any　higher　without　an　access　code。　It’s　to
keep　the　underhive　dwellers　from　the　higher　levels。”
“Let　me；”　said　Barreski。　He　produced　a　knife；　and　inserted　its　blade　into　a　vertical　seam　beside
the　runes。　With　some　expert　manipulation；　he　was　able　to　flip　open　a　section　of　the　wall　to　reveal　a
jumble　of　wires。　Palinev　gasped　as　his　comrade　cavalierly　plunged　his　hands　into　them。
Barreski　pulled　on　several　wires；　tearing　them　from　their　mountings；　seeming　not　to　care　as　the
machine…spirits　spat　their　disapproval。　He　grinned　as　the　chiming　sound　cut　out　and　the　lifter　began
to　rise　again。
“A　little　trick　I　picked　up　as　a　boy；”　he　said。
They　reached　their　destination　at　last；　and　the　doors　rumbled　open；　allowing　nine　grateful　soldiers　to
spill　out　onto　a　wide；　empty　street。
The　contrast　with　the　ground　floor　was　extreme。　Although　the　Ice　Warriors　were　still　surrounded
by　buildings；　there　were　open　walkways　and　squares　in　between；　into　which　some　natural　light　fell
from　translucent　panels　in　the　hive’s　roof　some　ten　levels　above　them。　Below；　the　architecture　had
been　strictly　utilitarian；　but　up　here　there　were　statues　and　fluted　columns　and　fountains　and
gargoyles。
Many　of　the　buildings　sported　eagle　crests　over　their　doorways　—　administrative　offices　—　but
Barreski　could　also　see　an　apartment　block　with　wide　windows　opening　onto　balconies。
Not　that　Chaos　hadn’t　left　its　mark　here　too。　Many　of　the　walls　had　been　defaced　with　hateful
sigils；　most　of　the　buildings　looted　and　some　burned　out。　And　the　air　was　cold；　far　colder　than　it　had
been　below　—　almost　as　cold　as　it　had　been　outside。
Steele　had　found　something：　a　rectangular；　white…framed　data　panel；　mounted　on　a　free…standing；
pivoting　base。　He　motioned　Barreski　to　join　him　at　it；　and　had　him　confirm　that　it　was　a　public
terminal。　The　interface　was　designed　to　be　accessible；　the　inlaid　runes　simple　to　interpret；　and
Barreski　was　soon　able　to　punch　up　a　plan　of　the　hive；　and　to　show　Steele　how　to　select　more
detailed　views　of　each　of　its　levels　and　sectors。　Then　he　watched　in　fascination　as　the　colonel
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scrolled　through　map　after　map；　hardly　pausing　at　some　long　enough　to　read　their　labels；　but　—
Barreski　felt　sure　—　somehow　committing　the　details　of　each　one　to　his　augmented　memory。
“Spaceport；”　Steele　muttered；　as　he　lingered　briefly　over　one　map。　“That’s　good　to　know。　Could
be　a　way　out　of　here　for　us；　if　we’re　lucky。”
“No　mention　of　an　Ice　Palace　though；　sir？”　asked　Barreski。
“I　wouldn’t　have　expected　one。　I　should　think　the　Ice　Palace　is　a　recent　addition；　something
Mangellan　has　had　built　for　himself。”
“It　was　Gavotski　who　su