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For Steele； of course； with his enhanced hearing； it felt like even longer。 This was a good thing；
he told himself。 It meant the Validian company had bought him more time than he could have
expected from them。 It meant they had died as they had lived； as heroes； and no Guardsman could
want any more from his life than that。
It meant that he had done the right thing by sacrificing them。
Not that he had doubted this； not any longer。 Steele had reviewed his decision six times； and was
satisfied that he had overlooked nothing。 Anyway； he had Sergeant Gavotski’s support； which was
always a reliable indicator。
The Ice Warriors had completed their half…circuit of the battlefield。 They were behind the Chaos
forces； whatever remained of them； back on course for the confessor’s crash site。 Steele just prayed
that their enemies would take some time to lick their wounds； before turning to head homeward。 Just
time enough for his squad to gain a safe distance from them。
He heard the approaching mutants a full six seconds before he saw them。
They were making no attempt to be quiet； crashing through the ice forest at speed； whimpering
and howling。 They must have fled from the heat of the battle； thought Steele。 They couldn’t have
known that the Ice Warriors were here — and yet； by some perverse chance； they were about to run
right into them。
He hissed a warning to the others； telling them to take cover。 Although they couldn’t have seen
anything themselves yet； they didn’t stop to ask questions。 They obeyed their colonel’s order with
varying degrees of success。 Only a blind man could have failed to see Borscz； who was twice as
broad as the ice tree behind which he attempted to hide。 Still； thought Steele； if the mutants were in
the throes of panic； and obviously feeble…minded； then they might not see the trap before it was
sprung。
And suddenly； there were over a score of them； appearing in the gaps between the trees； their
manifest and varied deformities an assault to Steele’s eyes。 He waited until they got closer； even
closer… and then one of the mutants came scrambling to a halt； and its huge； pink eyes widened；
staring at Borscz’s protruding stomach。 It opened its mouth to squeal a warning…
…and that was when Steele stepped out of hiding with his laspistol levelled； and before the
mutant could let out a sound； he calmly blew a hole through its head。
The rest of his squad were quick to follow his lead。 Pozhar； not surprisingly； was the first； his
face lit up by a broad grin as he pumped las…beam after las…beam into his confused and terrified
targets。 Barreski took his time； waiting for the opportune moment to wreak maximum damage with
one shot from his new flamer。 Three mutants were engulfed in fire； filling the air with the stink of
their burning flesh and the sounds of their screams。
“Don’t let any of them get away！” Steele yelled。
He counted four mutants on the periphery of the group； making to turn back； deciding that the
lesser of two perils was the one that lay behind them after all。 He brought down a hunchbacked；
tentacled horror with a shot to the back。
The other three mutants fled； and were out of sight before Steele could stop them — but an
instant later a tremendous bang rent the air and a cloud of shrapnel billowed out from the trees
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where they had vanished。 Barreski had tossed a frag grenade after the mutants — and； although
Steele winced at the sound that had almost overloaded the acoustic enhancers in his right ear； he
couldn’t deny that it had been an effective tactic。
Was there any hope； he wondered； that no one in the main body of the Chaos force had heard the
explosion； that the ice trees might have deadened its sound before it could reach them？ Perhaps； at
least； it might be dismissed as the work of a lone Validian kamikaze； or even a dispute between
undisciplined mutant stragglers。
So long； that was； as none of the mutants lived to tell a different tale。
In focusing on the would…be deserters； Steele had let down his guard against the more immediate
threats to his wellbeing。 He heard the cocking of a pistol； and turned to find its barrel aimed at his
head by a creature that looked as if its face had melted； its eyes and its nose running towards its
chin。
Before the mutant could fire； Borscz barrelled into its side and threw off its aim。 It responded by
swinging its gun butt at the burly Ice Warrior’s jaw。 It hit with a resounding crack； but Borscz barely
seemed to feel the blow。 He gripped his hapless opponent by its shoulders； thrust it back against a
razor…edged ice tree。 The mutant screamed and thrashed as blood gushed out of its back； but with a
deep…throated chuckle and a flash of his brilliant white teeth； Borscz pushed its chin up and back
with the heel of his hand。 The tree cut through the mutant’s misshapen head； bisecting it down the
middle。
Three more of its kin made a break for it； but two ran into a crossfire of las…beams set up by
Gavotski and Anakora。 Palinev went racing after the third； with his knife drawn。 Barreski pressed
his flamer into service again； and Borscz； who had been about to pounce on another mutant when it
combusted in his face； gave a yelp of protest and threw his hands up to his singed beard。
Surprise and discipline were the Ice Warriors’ greatest assets； and many of their foes were cut
down before they could do much more than gibber。 Mikhaelev in particular proved to be an expert
shot； choosing his angles well so that a single one of his las…beams often sliced through two bodies。
The closest the mutants came to exhibiting teamwork was when four of them tried to swarm
Blonsky。 Steele’s pistol finished off one before it could reach its target； but the others fell upon the
trooper。 Most of the Ice Warriors held their fire for fear of hitting a comrade； although Steele noted
that Pozhar was the exception。
He drew his power sword and activated a control in its hilt； causing the blade to flare with a
crackling blue energy。 He stepped up behind one of the mutants and struck with all the strength in
his augmented muscles； severing its head from its spinal column。
Borscz wrenched a third mutant from its victim； while Grayle attempted a similar manoeuvre
with the fourth； but found that it was stronger than he was。 Nevertheless； he kept it occupied long
enough for Blonsky to stand and to thrust his bayonet into the struggling creature’s guts。
And then the fight was over； there were no more mutants standing； and Palinev returned； wiping
his blade with a cloth； to report that the one he had chased was also dead。 The Ice Warriors were left
in a self…made clearing； but the ice trees that Barreski’s flamer had melted were already beginning to
grow again。 Pozhar leapt as a new shoot sprouted with impossible speed beneath him； almost
impaling his foot。
Before they moved on； Steele counted the bodies to confirm that all the mutants he had seen
were accounted for。 Then he took another second to rerun that calculation； four more times； to be
sure。
It had become second nature for him to do this； and he did it for a good reason。 He did it because
he could not trust his own mind。
Some things； he remembered too well。
He remembered every detail of his time in the hospital； everything they had done to him there。
The medics had rebuilt one side of Steele’s head； inserted plates into his skull； and grafted foreign
41
objects onto his brain。 They had replaced the shattered bones in his right shoulder and upper arm
with plasteel； the muscles with hydraulic systems。
He remembered their assurances that the pain would be worthwhile； that they were doing the
best they could for him。 He hadn’t believed them。 He had thought it more likely that the medics
were just pushing； testing； seeing how far they could go。
Steele could remember all that； but he couldn’t remember what had landed him in that Emperorforsaken
place to begin with。 He had no memory of Karnak； the world to which his service records
told him he had been posted for more than two years。 He did not know who his comrades had been
on that world； in that campaign； which of the Imperium’s many enemies they had been fighting； or
what his orders had been on that fateful day。
He had no idea what had caused the explosion that had gone off in his face。
He couldn’t remember his father’s eyes； nor the touch of the girlfriend he had left behind on
Valhalla when his draft papers had arrived。
Sometimes； in the weeks that had followed his discharge； Steele had wished that the medics had
just left him to die。
He was aware that people saan； a deep thinker。 As a cold man。 Some were
jealous of his augmetics； of the feats they enabled him to achieve。 Those people didn’t know the real
Colonel Stanislev Steele。 They didn’t know the abiding frustration that burnt at the core of his being。
He could hear the flapping of a moth’s wings from forty paces now； detect its body heat from a
hundred。 He could perform complex calculations at lightning speed — or rather； a small part of his
brain to which he felt little connection could perform them and offer up the results to him。 He had
near…perfect recall； and could store tactical maps and troop movements in that same small alien
corner of his head。
Steele had heard it said that he could count the snowflakes in a storm； although he had never
been quite bored enough to try。
And of course he had the strength of three men in his right arm — enough； he had been told； to
slice through two armoured heretics with one swing of his power sword。
It must have sounded amazing； in theory； and Steele’s new…found abilities had certainly helped
him to rise through the ranks。 But； as Trooper Borscz would no doubt have reminded him； Imperial
technology wasn’t always reliable — and far less so in conditions like these； on ice worlds such as
Valhalla and the world that Cressida had become。 Steele’s eye； his acoustic enhancers； the olfactory
sensors in his nose； even his right shoulder； they were all prone to intermittent failures。 They could
let him down at any moment。
And so； nine years after he had been reborn； he was still trying to work out what the medics
hadn’t been able to tell him。 He still didn’t know which of his thoughts were entirely his own； and
which had been influenced by the augmetics that had oh…so…subtly insinuated themselves into his
consciousness。 He had to second…guess his every instinct； in case it was based on flawed
information。
He couldn’t tell where the real Stanislev Steele ended and the augmetics began。
They were nearing the edge of the ice forest； at last。
Steele knew this because his augmetics had calculated that the mean distance between the ice
trees was a little greater than it had been a few minutes ago。 He quickened his pace； knowing that
his squad would fall into step beside him without being ordered to do so。 There had been no signs
that anyone was on their tail； but still he couldn’t dismiss that possibility。
At last they emerged into the open； and Steele could see that the others were as happy about it as
he was。 Borscz let out a deep groan of relief； and took the opportunity to stretch his arms and legs
and work out the cricks in his neck。
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A great； snow…blanketed field stretched ahead of them — and in the distance Steele could see the
spires and towers of Iota Hive。 They had made good time； all things considered。 The crash site was
only a few more kilometres away； and the going looked set to be a lot easier from now on。 The open
terrain would bring its own problems； however。 The Ice Warriors’ bottle…green greatcoats would
stand out like beacons to anyone who overlooked the field from any number of surrounding hills。
And they would leave tracks in the grey snow； but there was no way around that。
Fortunately； the sky was beginning to darken。 Steele considered waiting for a while； until the
night had drawn in completely； but he concluded that the risks of so doing outweighed the
advantages。 His internal chrono was ticking away； impossible to ignore。 It was counting down the
seconds to the end of this world； making him acutely aware of the passing of each one。
It was only when Gavotski had a quiet word in his ear that he realised how hard he had been
pushin