brainwashed soldiers。 It would not have occurred to them to question their orders； to wonder if their
lives might have been put to better use。
Mikhaelev asked himself those questions。 He stewed over the details of his briefing； the logic of
staking ten lives on the faint chance of saving just one。 If Confessor Wollkenden was so important；
why did the Inquisition care so little about him？ Why couldn’t the virus bombing they had
authorised be delayed a few days for his sake？
He couldn’t speak out； of course。 Even if some of the others； these relative strangers； agreed
with him； they would not dare to confess to it。 No； the floor would be held by the likes of Blonsky；
spewing his accusations； insisting that to doubt one’s leaders； even if they were only men； was to
doubt the Emperor。 Just as those same leaders would want him to think。
Not that Blonsky would hear him； of course。 No； as soon as he opened his mouth； he knew that
Steele or Gavotski would do their duty and shoot him dead。
So； he kept his own counsel； said what he was expected to say； and did what he was told as if he
was the perfect brainwashed soldier too。 And the fact that he was here； in this Termite； in this squad；
was proof that he had played that part supremely well。
He did all this because he knew there was just one thing； one choice he could make； that would
prove more dangerous than serving the Imperium… and that was not serving it。
The Termite was under attack； being buffeted by shock waves。 If he tuned out the deafening sound
of its engines； Steele could identify the crump of explosive shells from without； of the sort fired by a
Basilisk or a Bombard。
“We have a problem； sir；” Grayle yelled from the controls。 “We’re in the sights of something…
long…range artillery。 It’s decided to take a few pot shots。 Thing is； it has good cover。 The Chimeras
can’t see to return fire。 The captain of one is requesting your permission to break formation； to go
after it。”
“Denied；” said Steele。 “Do what you can； Grayle。 Find us cover； get out of firing range。 Do not；
I repeat do not； engage with the enemy。”
24
“Aye； sir；” Grayle answered。 The Termite made a sharp right turn； sharper than Steele would
have thought possible。 He was sure that； for an instant； its left…hand track had left the ground。
“We need a smoke launcher on this thing；” opined Barreski。 “Do we at least have smoke
grenades； something we can lob out through the flamer emplacements？”
“We are sitting ducks in here；” Borscz fretted。 “If we were out in the field； ten smaller； fastermoving
targets； that machine could never get a bead on us。”
At that moment； a tremendous concussive force slammed through the Termite’s chassis； from its
back left corner。 A direct hit。 It felt as if a tank had rammed them from behind； and only the fact that
the Ice Warriors were so tightly wedged into their seats saved Steele from being thrown into
Grayle’s back。
Grayle muttered a prayer as the engine coughed； spluttered； whined； and then roared back into
full throat。 The Termite’s suspension was shot。 It felt as if it was shaking itself apart； and the
passenger compartment was filled with smoke。
“Palinev； Mikhaelev；” said Gavotski； “go through the equipment lockers； see if you can whip up
a smokescreen as Barreski suggested。 Barreski； I need you to check the borer； make sure it still
functions。 Grayle…”
“I know； sergeant；” said Grayle。 “Get us the hell out of here！”
No one needed to say what every one of the ten Ice Warriors present was thinking： that they
couldn’t take a second hit like that one。
Steele watched as they jumped to their assigned tasks。 He had no need to intervene； trusting
Gavotski to handle the situation。 So； he took the opportunity to observe how each member of his
new squad responded to pressure。 The more he could learn about them； the more effectively he
could lead them； and official records could only tell him so much。
There was something about Mikhaelev’s body language； for example — the slump of his
shoulders — that said his heart wasn’t truly in this mission； that perhaps he was just going through
the motions。 That hadn’t come across at all in his records； and it was a cause for concern。 Pozhar；
thought Steele； would bear watching too； although； in his case； the reports of his commanders had
been perfectly clear。
Pozhar was a loose cannon。 He was loyal to the Emperor； fervently so； but he appeared to have
no concept of his own limitations。 Send him up against a tyranid army and； unless given specific
instructions to the contrary； he would be the one to seek out the Hive Tyrant and to spit in its eye。
On a mission like this one； that sort of overconfidence could be the death of everyone。
Pozhar was here because Gavotski had vouched for him。 He had been the young trooper’s squad
commander once； and had averred that he was one of the most skilled close…quarters combatants he
had ever seen。 Gavotski had also sworn that he could handle Pozhar’s rough edges and get the best
out of him； and Steele had learned that his experienced sergeant was seldom wrong。
If Pozhar was overconfident； then Anakora had the opposite problem。 She had come with the
highest recommendations of any of them； but Steele had already seen enough to know that she
lacked the faith in herself that others seemed to have in her。 He felt that he； of all people； could
identify with that。
Then there was Blonsky； a trooper in whom a succession of commanders had been unable to
find fault； and yet they had couched their reports in terms that suggested they were more than happy
to have seen the back of him。
Blonsky had summarily executed at least six comrades in combat； accusing them of heresy。 He
had made three similar accusations against superior officers； one of them a general no less。 On the
surface of it； his actions had always seemed justified — but reading between the lines； Steele had
noted that his commanders considered him a liability； and a dangerous man to be around。
Blonsky had been one of Steele and Gavotski’s reserve choices for their squad。 Gavotski had
pointed out； quite reasonably； that the Imperial Guard had suffered more than its fair share of
deserters and turncoats on Cressida。 With nine pairs of eyes focused on the search for Confessor
25
Wollkenden； it was perhaps advisable to have the tenth pair turned inwards； watching the squad
itself。
The shelling had ceased at last。 Grayle； it seemed； had been right： the unseen gunner had just been
taking potshots； and he had evidently decided to maintain his position rather than be enticed into
pursuing a handful of enemy vehicles。
For the past few minutes； the only thing protecting the Termite had been the cloud kicked up by
a handful of smoke bombs dropped by Palinev and Mikhaelev。 By the Emperor’s grace； it had been
enough。 A few more explosions had vibrated through the passenger compartment； but none had
come close enough to cause real damage； and Barreski； who had moved up to the front seat beside
Grayle； reported that the all…important borer was intact。
Grayle ploughed on； across land that had once been fertile fields but was now coated with grey
slush and the ever…present purple fungus。 He itched to put his foot down； to coax a little extra speed
out of the grumbling engine； to make up for the time they had lost to their unplanned diversion。 He
didn’t want to outpace the Chimeras； however。
There were four of them； each protecting one face of the Termite； and they were just starting to
have trouble； struggling to find traction as the ground beneath them grew more icy and treacherous。
As the convoy proceeded； the snow became deeper until it was piled almost to the tops of their
tracks。 The Chimeras were equipped with dozer blades and crewed by experienced Ice Warriors； but
still the going was painfully slow。 With Gavotski’s permission； Grayle got on the vox to the
Chimera drivers and arranged to take point。
Shortly after this； Grayle got his first sight of the glaciers — and even he； who had been brought
up amid the icescapes of Valhalla； let out a low whistle through his teeth。 The glaciers formed an
unbroken line in the middle…distance； dwarfing the paltry vehicles that approached it。 He found
himself nursing an unworthy thought； one of which he thought Trooper Borscz would have
approved： that very little of what the Imperium of Man had ever built could compare with such
natural splendour。
They were rumbling along the base of a U…shaped valley； and Gavotski cautioned the troopers to
go easy with the flamers lest they bring an avalanche down on the Termite。 There had been no signs
of trouble for almost an hour； and at last Steele gave the order to release the escorts from service。
The Chimeras fell away； a couple of their drivers voxing Grayle with good luck messages。 The
Termite was finally alone； and Grayle pointed it at the sheer ice face that was looming before them。
Tactical maps suggested that the glaciers formed an almost unbroken ring around a great swathe
of Chaos…held territory。 Grayle had no doubt that the few routes in or out of the area would be under
heavy guard。 The last thing the Chaos forces would expert was for their enemies to strike through
the great ice walls。 Like the orks that had once invaded his home world； they were in for a rude
surprise。
“Hey； Trooper Borscz；” Barreski called back over his shoulder； “we’re almost there。 Should I
start up the borer； or would you rather get out and dig your way through the ice with your bare
hands and your teeth？”
“Impact with the ice face in thirty seconds；” reported Grayle。 “You ready there； Barreski？”
“Always；” Barreski said； his hands moving over the controls with practiced ease； although to the
best of his fellow tanker’s knowledge he had never been in a vehicle like this one before。 The
Termite’s great white borer dropped into the ready position； so that it blocked Grayle’s view through
his front shield。 He wasn’t missing much； he thought。 For the past few minutes； all he had been able
to see was the flat； grey surface of the approaching glacier。
He began to count down； as Barreski started the drill head turning； “Impact in ten… nine…
eight…”
“A