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saw　how　resistant　the　mutants　were　to　our　las…fire。”
Apart　from　the　loss　of　Borscz；　casualties　were　mercifully　light。　Palinev　had　a　mild　concussion
from　where　the　last　mutant　had　backhanded　him；　and　Gavotski　had　a　couple　of　second…degree　burns；
which　he　had　dressed。　And　Pozhar’s　firing　arm　was　in　a　sling；　which　aggrieved　the　young　trooper　no
end。
Steele　was　back　on　his　feet；　but　he　seemed　deeply　tired　—　and；　although　no　one　would　have　said
it　to　his　face；　even　a　little　shell…shocked。　Gavotski　covered　for　him　by　taking　charge　again。　He　sent
Anakora；　Barreski　and　Grayle　onto　the　lander　to　ensure　that　no　one　was　hiding　inside。　Grayle　was
also　to　report　back　on　the　state　of　the　engines。　Two　cultists　remained　alive；　and　so　Blonsky　and
Mikhaelev　were　detailed　to　bind　them　with　tent　ropes　from　their　rucksacks。
Steele　examined　one　of　the　mutants’　corpses。
“It　looked　like　this；”　he　said　to　Gavotski。　When　the　sergeant　looked　puzzled；　Steele　expounded；
“The　creature　I　saw　in　the　forest。　It　had　grey　fur；　like　this　one　does。　Some　sort　of　adaptation　to　the
cold；　I　expect。　But　if　it　was　a　mutant　I　saw；　then　where　did　it　go？　The　cultists　didn’t　know　we　were
coming　until　I…　until　they　heard　us。”
“So；　who　did　it　report　to？”　Gavotski　concluded　the　thought。　“Who　knows　we’re　here？　And　how
many　more　mutants　like　this　one　are　still　out　there？”
Steele　didn’t　need　to　ask　what　had　happened　while　he　had　been　unconscious；　since　he　had　plunged
into　the　lake。　His　bionic　eye　had　recorded　all　the　details　—　every　visual　detail；　at　least　—　and　stored
them　for　his　later　inspection。
The　whole　episode　had　left　him　feeling　deeply　uneasy。　The　organic　parts　—　the　real　parts　—　of
his　brain　had　shut　down　in　the　water；　but　the　mechanical　parts　had　kept　him　going。　He　was　grateful
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to　be　alive；　of　course　—　but　the　thought　that　his　augmetics　could　function　without　him；　even　in　a
limited　capacity；　chilled　him　to　the　marrow。
The　two　prisoners　had　started　to　come　round。　Mikhaelev　and　Blonsky　had　carried　them　to　the
camp…fire；　and　were　standing　guard　over　them。　Despite　his　weariness；　Steele　had　chosen　to　conduct
the　interrogation。　He　deliberately　started　with　the　toughest…looking　of　the　pair；　the　one　least　likely　to
break。　He　was　a　heavy…set　man　with　a　tattooed　face　and　a　broken　wrist　—　this　latter　courtesy　of
Blonsky　—　who　returned　the　colonel’s　glare　with　mute　defiance。
“I　know　what　you’re　thinking；”　said　Steele。　“You　think　you　have　nothing　to　gain　by　answering
my　questions　because　I　won’t　let　you　live　anyway。　You’re　right。　But　you　can　die　quickly；　and　as
easily　as　possible；　or　I　can　make　you　suffer。”
The　cultist　spat　in　his　face。
Steele　nodded　at　Blonsky；　who　took　the　man　s　wrist　and　manipulated　it；　grinding　the　shattered
bones　into　each　other。　The　cultist　suppressed　his　screams　for　almost　a　full　second。　By　the　time　the
Ice　Warrior　had　finished　with　him；　there　were　tears　in　his　eyes。　Still；　he　hadn’t　said　a　word。
Nevertheless；　the　technique　was　having　an　effect　—　not　on　this　cultist；　maybe；　but　on　his　fellow。
The　other　man　was　smaller；　younger　than　the　first；　and　abjectly　horrified　by　what　he　had　just　seen。
“Very　well；”　said　Steele　calmly；　“it　looks　like　this　one　has　made　his　choice。　You　may　as　well
dispose　of　him；　Blonsky。　We’ll　talk　to　his　friend　instead。”
Blonsky　kne。　He　planted　his　boot　in　the　larger　cultist’s　back；　and
propelled　him　face　first　onto　the　fire。　He　started　to　scream　again；　and　struggled　to　stand　—　but
whenever　he　came　close　to　so　doing；　Blonsky’s　foot　was　ready　to　kick　him　back　into　the　flames。
It　took　the　cultist　a　long　time　to　die；　and　by　the　time　he　did　the　air　was　rank　with　the　smell　of　his
burning　flesh。　His　smaller　comrade　was　so　afraid　that　he　was　shaking；　and　he　had　vomited　into　his
lap。　He　looked　like　he　might　be　about　to　do　this　again；　as　Steele　turned　to　him　with　the　smile　of　a
wolf。
“I…　I　didn’t　want　to　join　them；”　the　cultist　bleated；　“I　swear。　It’s　just　that；　once　it　started；　it
spread　within　days；　and　soon…”
“Mangellan？”　prompted　Blonsky。
The　cultist　nodded；　seeming　glad　that　the　Ice　Warrior　knew　the　name；　that　he　hadn’t　had　to
reveal　it　himself。　“No　one　knew　where　he’d　come　from；　he　was　just…　suddenly；　his　followers　were
everywhere；　in　the　streets；　and　no　one　seemed　able　to　stop　them；　and　my　family；　my　friends；　they
were　saying　that　Mangellan　was　right；　that　we　owed　the　Emperor　nothing；　that　He　couldn’t　protect
us。　Then　they　were　banging　on　our　doors；　dragging　us　outside；　putting　guns　to　our　heads　and　making
us　swear　allegiance　to　them；　and　we　had　no　choice。”
“There　is　always　a　choice；”　growled　Blonsky。
“When　this　ship　landed　here；”　said　Steele；　indicating　the　Aquila　behind　him；　“it　was　carrying　an
important　member　of　the　Adeptus　Ministorum。　He　could　have　helped　your　people；　could　have
guided　them　back　to　the　path　of　righteousness。”
The　cultist　nodded　eagerly。　“I　did　hear　something；　that　they’d　found　someone…　a　religious　man。
Is　that　why　you’re　here？　Are　you　looking　for　him？”
“Do　you　know　where　he　is？”　asked　Steele。
“He…　he’s　dead；”　said　the　cultist。
Steele　saw　the　look　that　passed　between　Blonsky　and　Mikhaelev；　but　he　kept　his　own　gaze　fixed
on　the　prisoner。　Normally；　his　bionic　eye　would　have　enabled　him　to　count　the　beads　of　sweat　on　the
cultist’s　face　and　hands；　his　acoustic　enhancers　would　have　tuned　in　to　the　skip　of　the　man’s
heartbeat　and　Steele　would　have　been　able　to　tell　if　he　was　lying　or　not。　With　his　eye　out　of　action
and　only　the　heartbeat　to　go　on；　it　was　harder　to　make　that　judgement。　Despite　the　inconvenience；　he
felt　oddly　liberated。
“You　saw　him　die？”　Steele　asked。
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“I　just　thought；”　said　the　cultist；　“I　mean；　he　must　be　by　now。　The　confessor　was　brought　into　the
hive；　Iota　Hive；　three　days　ago。　I　saw　him　being　marched　up　the　steps　of　the　Ice　Palace。　Mangellan
has　him。”
“Where　is　it；”　asked　Steele；　“this　Ice　Palace？　Can　you　take　us　there？”
The　prisoner　blanched　at　the　prospect。
“Please；”　he　stammered；　“I’ve　told　you　all　I　know。　Don’t　make　me…　I　can’t　go　up　against　him；
he’s　too…　he’s　too　strong。　You　can’t　beat　him。　It　took　Mangellan　less　than　a　month　to　drive　the
Imperial　Guard　out　of　Iota　Hive；　hundreds　of　thousands　of　them。　Hundreds　of　thousands　of　men
dead；　and　you…　There　are　only　a　handful　of　you。”
Steele　had　made　up　his　mind　about　the　cultist　now；　but　still　he　glanced　up　at　Blonsky　and
Mikhaelev　for　a　second　and　third　opinion。
“Do　you　believe　him？”　he　asked；　and　the　troopers　confirmed　that　they　did。　“Good；”　said　Steele。
“I　do；　too。”
He　drew　his　laspistol；　and　shot　the　young　cultist　through　the　head。
The　Aquila　had　been　gutted。　Even　its　seats；　once　luxuriously　appointed　for　the　carriage　of
dignitaries；　had　been　torn　out；　and　the　mutants　had　left　their　slobber　everywhere。　Still；　once　the
passenger　compartment　had　been　cleaned　up　a　little　and　blankets　laid　out；　it　made　an　adequate
shelter　for　nine　dog…tired　soldiers。
Much　more　than　that；　the　ship　could　not　offer。　Grayle　had　been　unable　to　start　the　engines；　to　no
one’s　surprise；　and　the　comms　were　fried。　Barreski；　however；　had　found　a　portable　vox…caster；　not
too　badly　damaged。　The　only　thing　it　lacked　was　power　—　and　a　few　hours　of　sunlight；　even
through　Cressida’s　grey　clouds；　would　provide　that。　He　thought　he　could　have　it　working　by　midmorning。
Steele　could　then　contact　a　naval　vessel；　report　the　loss　of　the　Termite　and　arrange　an
airlift　for　after　they　had　found　Wollkenden。
For　the　first　time　in　half　a　day；　Grayle　could　see　a　way　off　this　world；　and　the　prospect　cheered
him　—　almost　enough　for　him　to　overlook　the　small　fact　that　an　army　of　Chaos　worshippers　stood
between　the　Ice　Warriors　and　their　goal。
He　and　Barreski　had　taken　the　first　shift　of　the　night　watch；　being　in　better　condition　than　most。
Grayle　sat　in　the　Aquila’s　hatchway；　alert　for　any　sign　of　an　approaching　foe；　hearing　only　the　deep
breathing　of　the　sleeping　men　behind　him。　Barreski　was　over　by　the　embers　of　the　campfire；　laying
out　a　number　of　broken　machine　parts　in　the　scant　light。　It　was　unlikely　he’d　be　able　to　salvage
anything　more　of　use；　but　he　wanted　to　be　sure。
It　was　Grayle；　th