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the more treacherous branches in his path — even without its energy field active； the well…honed
blade sliced easily through the ice。 Still； it was several minutes before he reached the spot in which
the grey…furred figure had lurked — and； by then； he was not at all surprised to find no sign that it
had ever been there。
Blonsky and Pozhar had fallen behind； but the smaller； slighter Palinev had been able to keep
pace with his colonel； slipping through the forest as if its traps and snares were little impediment to
him。
“There was something here； sir；” he reported。 “You can see where its breath has started to melt
this tree。 I could search for its tracks； but they’ll be hard to follow on this ground。”
“No；” said Steele。 “Thank you； Trooper Palinev； but we don’t have time for that。”
“It does look bleak； sir； if you don’t mind my saying so。 We’ve lost the Termite。 Our escape
route through the ice has closed behind us； so that even if we do find Confessor Wollkenden； we’ve
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no way of getting back to Alpha Hive with him。 We must be at least twenty kilometres from his
crash site； and it seems our enemies know we’re here。”
Steele couldn’t have summed up the situation more succinctly himself。
“We should get back to the others；” he said。 “We have a great deal of work to do。”
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CHAPTER SIX
Time to Destruction of Cressida： 40。42。39
Pozhar was beginning to wonder what he was doing here。
He was a front…line fighter； not a scout。 Stealth was no more a virtue of his than was patience。
Bad enough； he thought； that Steele had had the Termite flee from a single artillery unit； bad enough
they had let the enemy have that victory。 At least； he had thought； when they got to where they were
going； when he was able to climb out into the open again at last； he would have the chance to flex
his muscles。
The mutated snow leopards had been a welcome diversion — and Pozhar felt confident；
although it was impossible to know for sure； that his las…beams had finished off two of them。 But
then Steele had directed his squad into the ice forest and warned them of the overriding need for
caution。
And Pozhar had come to realise that the ice forest was almost as constricting； almost as
claustrophobic； as the inside of the Termite had been。
The further they had ventured between its vile； warped trees； the more densely those trees had
become packed。 Already Pozhar had been scratched three times by their sharp edges； and he was
starting to ache with the effort of walking with his elbows damped to his sides； his head bowed；
checking the ground for the treacherous purple fungus before he dared to take each step。
Still； as bad as this was for him； he thought； it was far worse for Borscz； who was visibly
straining to rein in his massive form； and who let out an aggrieved yelp every few minutes。 Borscz’s
greatcoat was so crazed with cuts by now that Pozhar was expecting great squares of its fabric to
start falling away。
He longed to set eyes on another snow leopard or two； something against which he could cut
loose — but the ice forest seemed sterile； devoid even of birds； an entire area scoured of life； given
over to the creeping rot that was destroying this world。
Pozhar shivered at the thought； and decided that on reflection this was far worse than being
cooped up in any vehicle。 Out here； he could feel the Chaos corruption in the air； pressing in on him
like a physical force； battering him。 He wanted to yell defiance at it； to fight back。 He wanted to
hack； slash and burn this accursed place down。
“Just give me a couple of flamers；” seethed Barreski； who had obviously had the same thought；
“and I guarantee you there’ll be nothing left standing here in ten minutes。 We’d be wading through
water the rest of the way to the crash site。”
“And the Chaos forces would hear us coming ten kilometres away；” said Borscz。
“Just making a point； that’s all；” said Barreski。 “I’d put my faith in Imperial firepower over
anything Chaos can muster any day； no contest。”
“Forgetting what happened to the Termite； are we？” asked Mikhaelev wryly。
Anyway； there were no flamers — only the one that Barreski had been carrying； and it was out
of fuel。 There had been no time for the Ice Warriors to salvage anything more than their standard kit；
worn or carried in their rucksacks； from the stricken Termite。 Mikhaelev in particular was mourning
the loss of his missile launcher； being now a heavy weapons expert with no heavy weapons。
Pozhar heard a noise ahead of him； glimpsed a moving shape and reacted with lightning speed。
By the time he recognised Trooper Palinev； he was already staring at his comrade’s slender form
34
through his lasgun sights。 An instant later； and Pozhar would have pulled the trigger。 He chafed at
having to hold himself back。
Palinev had adapted to his surroundings with enviable ease。 He moved between the ice trees like
a ghost； seeming to know instinctively where to step； and when he had to twist or hop to avoid a
grasping branch or a protruding root。 “I’ve scouted two kilometres ahead； sir；” he reported to Steele；
“but there’s nothing； nothing at all。 The ice forest stretches as far as I’ve seen。”
Gavotski’s lips tightened with disappointment。 “Maybe we should have tried to go around it
after all。 If it gets any thicker—”
Steele interrupted him。 “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it； sergeant。 In the meantime；
assuming that the forest does reach all the way to our destination； if we maintain our current bearing
and speed and encounter no further hostile life… assuming all that； we should be able to reach the
crash site in…”
He hesitated for a second； and his eyes — both the real one and the augmetic — glazed over。
Pozhar stared at his commander in fascination — but then Steele’s eyes cleared and he concluded；
“Approximately four hours and forty…seven minutes’ time。” And Pozhar wanted to scream。
Palinev was alone again。
He didn’t mind that。 He had become used to solitude； welcomed it even。 It was a long time since
he had been in an environment as quiet as the ice forest was； far from the sounds of battle or even
from the thrum of an engine。 He knew he had to be careful not to let the quiet fool him。 Likewise； he
was sure to examine every ice tree that came into his view； even though the aberrant shapes had
long since lost the power to fascinate or even to repel him； had begun to take on a monotonous
quality。
Palinev couldn’t take anything for granted； couldn’t drop his guard for a second。 The others
were depending on him。 The information he could gather； alone and unseen； could prove vital to
them。 But it came with a risk attached。 If he were to walk into an ambush； if he were to be captured；
then the enemy would know that his comrades were behind him； and they would be prepared。
One mistake； and Palinev knew he could take his entire squad down with him。
He had left them almost an hour ago。 It was time to drop back； he thought； and report in to
Steele again； just to reassure the colonel that he hadn’t run into trouble； that the way ahead was still
safe。 Cradling his Guard…issue compass in his palm； Palinev reoriented himself。 He was confident
that he could retrace his steps by memory； but there was no harm in a double…check。 If he strayed off
course by even one half of a degree； he was likely to miss his comrades altogether。
He was about to set off when a sound made him freeze。
It had been almost nothing — the tiniest of scrapes； perhaps a rustle of fabric — and yet； it had
not been a natural sound。 Palinev knew this because he had taken the time to attune himself to the
natural sounds of the forest； such as they were： the faintest warbling of the wind between the trees；
the occasional pops and cracks as a newly frozen shape settled； or perhaps even grew？
As quickly and as quietly as he could； taking only one careful step； Palinev tucked himself in
behind the nearest ice tree； and dropped to his haunches。 He drew his combat knife from his boot；
recited the Litany of Stealth； made sure that his breathing was as soft as the breeze； and waited。
As he had expected； a figure came into view。 It was a man； as slight of stature as Palinev was。
He was wearing an armoured helmet and a tight…fitting flak jacket； also like Palinev’s； except that
where his was a bottle green in colour； the stranger’s was a bold red with gold highlights。 It was
hardly good camouflage material。
Palinev thought that he recognised the colours； though he couldn’t name the regiment to which
they belonged。 Evidently； though； this man was an Imperial soldier — or at least； he had been once。
He was holding a lasgun； keeping it ready as he crept from one tree to another： a scout。 The question
was； for whom was he scouting？ There were no visible signs of Chaos mutation on the stranger； but
that didn’t prove anything。
35
Palinev waited until the man had drawn almost level with him； waited for his questing eyes to
turn away from him。 Then he slipped out from behind his tree； and into the shade of another。 He
repeated this manoeuvre twice more； each time drawing closer to his unsuspecting prey； and moving
further around behind him。
W