“Yes； well；” said Greiss。 “Right now； the important thing isn’t what may or may not have
happened in the past—it’s what we do about it in the here and now。”
Mackenzie had been staring into the acid river。 Now； he snapped to attention as if remembering
his responsibilities。 “Right。 I hope I don’t have to tell you people to conserve supplies from here on。
In the meantime； we have a more pressing problem。”
“Don’t tell me；” said Greiss wryly。 “We have to cross that thing。”
They began by sending Woods up a tree。
He shinned up to its topmost branches； until its leaves hid him from view。 He disturbed a bird—
the first the squad had seen all day—but instead of attacking him it squawked in terror and took
flight。
From his new vantage point； Woods scanned the length of the river in each direction； looking for
a natural crossing。 No one was really surprised when he returned with the news that there was none。
That would have been too easy。
Armstrong had brought rope； so the rest of the squad stood back as Myers tied a lasso； swung it
over his head and let the looped end fly。 It soared across the acid river to the opposite bank； and
caught hold of a tree branch。 Myers tugged at it to confirm it was secure。 The rope came loose； and
there was a collective wince as it slapped into the river and was dissolved in an instant； before he
could even think about reeling it in。 Myers was left with just the two…metre length that had been
coiled in his hands。
The Jungle Fighters tested a few creepers； but found them brittle； dried out by the relentless heat。
Muldoon suggested they dig up some snapper flowers； and Greiss approved the idea。 Mackenzie
grumbled something under his breath； but he didn’t object—so soon； they were working in a heavy
silence； weaving a replacement rope from the flowers’ hardy roots。 They knotted several short
strands together； and finally they were ready for Myers to try again。
This time； the lasso caught and held。 Myers tied his end of the rope around the sturdiest tree he
could find； and Mackenzie asked for a volunteer to be first across。
Lorenzo’s was the second hand in the air； as usual。 The first belonged to Landon。
“You sure about this？” Greiss quizzed him。
“Makes sense； sergeant；” said the rookie。 Lorenzo could see how nervous he felt about saying
this； but he was saying it anyway。 “Someone’s got to go over there and tie the rope up securely； and
I’m the lightest。 I’m the most likely to make it。”
Greiss accepted that； so Muldoon set about tying his remaining two metres of rope around the
volunteer’s waist； passing it between his legs and finally over the knotted plant roots to act as a
safety harness。 To this； he attached the end of another length of roots； which would pay itself out as
Landon went across。
Then the Jungle Fighters watched in tense silence as Muldoon hoisted Landon up until he could
grip the precarious root bridge with his hands and feet。 The rookie had left his heavy pack behind；
but his lasgun was slung across his back； he never knew what he might encounter； alone on the far
side。
Landon made his way across quickly； hanging upside…down from the makeshift rope like a
squirrel。 He only slowed as he neared the middle of the river； where the slack brought him down
almost to its level。 If he’d made a slip there； he would have been dead before his harness could catch
him。
51
It was at this moment that Myers’ lasso； straining to cope with Landon’s additional weight； lost
its grip on the branch。
Mercifully； it snagged again； only a centimetre further along。 Almost a centimetre too far。
Lorenzo； watching； sucked air between his teeth； knowing he could do nothing as his youthful
comrade dropped—as he was caught an instant later； holding on for his life to his shaking； swaying
lifeline。 The acid river lapped against Landon’s lasgun； but as far as Lorenzo could see； Landon
himself was unharmed。
When the rope had steadied； he resumed his crossing； hugging more closely to the rope than
before until it had begun to rise again； to lift him out of danger。 Then he struck out more confidently
towards the far bank； and set foot on dry land at last。
Landon untied himself from his harness； and made a quick check of the area for immediate
threats。 He inspected his lasgun and discarded it； evidently； the acid had rendered it useless。 Then he
knotted the rope he had carried across with him around a tree。 He retrieved the end of the first rope
from its branch； and tied it around a different tree nearby； making sure he pulled it good and taut。
Then he turned to his comrades； and gave them a thumbs…up sign。
Mackenzie sent Woods across next。 The other Jungle Fighters had almost made enough root
rope to construct a harness for him； but he didn’t bother waiting for it。 The crossing was less fraught
for him than it had been for Landon； Woods had two ropes to cling to； and he knew both were firmly
anchored at each end。 He reached the other side of the river in seconds。
Armstrong was more prudent； waiting until his safety rope was prepared and in place； attached
to both crossing ropes； before he set off at a perfectly measured pace。 Once he’d set foot on the far
bank； he hurled his harness； and Landon’s； back to the others； so Myers and Storm were able to
follow him in short order。 Donovits was next； once he’d crossed the river； he called back a warning
that the first rope was beginning to fray in the middle。 “Best keep most of your weight on the
second；” he advised。
Braxton had been watching the Jungle Fighters closely； and when his turn came he tried to
mimic their actions。 Only a third of the way across the ropes； however； he missed a handhold and
fell。 His harness brought him up short； but for a moment he was bouncing and flailing in midair。
That was when the second rope snapped； its loose ends flopping into the acid to be eaten away。
Braxton scrabbled for the remaining rope； and held onto it with white knuckles。 A minute passed
before he felt confident to proceed further。 He made one more slip； but his harness saved him again
and he was quicker to recover this time。 Lorenzo let out a breath of relief—and realised he had been
holding it—as Braxton joined the others。 Mackenzie had been rigid with worry； too。 Who’d have
thought the commissar cared about his adjutant as anything more than a human shield？
Greiss and Muldoon； on the other hand； had been conferring in low whispers； ignoring the drama
playing out over the river。 As the threat to Braxton passed； and Mackenzie’s attention turned back
towards them； they parted smoothly—but their eyes met for a second； and Lorenzo thought he saw
something ominous in that gaze。 A flicker of a resolution made and confirmed。
Mackenzie ordered the three remaining Jungle Fighters to begin work on another rope。 “Waste
of time；” opined Greiss。 “We don’t need two ropes。 The second was a backup； that’s all。”
“A safety precaution；” said Mackenzie stiffly； “that turned out to be entirely necessary。”
“Only because your Guardsman didn’t know what he was doing；” countered Greiss。 “If he’d
followed Brains’ advice—”
“I’m not trusting my life to—” Mackenzie began。
Greiss interrupted with； “There’s only four of us left to cross； and Muldoon and Lorenzo here
aren’t crying about it。 That rope’s held up just fine so far。 Better to take a chance than spend another
hour sitting around here doing craftwork。 We’re already behind schedule。” And with that； he hoisted
Landon’s pack on his right arm； and slipped his own onto the left to keep himself balanced。 Then he
hauled himself up onto the remaining rope and； emulating Woods； began to swarm across it without
a harness。
52
“Come back here； Greiss！” roared Mackenzie。 “I’m warning you； if you don’t come back here
this instant； I’ll… I’ll…”
“Way I see it； sir；” said Muldoon nonchalantly； “there isn’t much more you can threaten him
with。”
“I’ll be adding this to the list of charges against you； trooper！” the commissar yelled after the
departing Greiss。 “Muldoon； what do you think you’re doing？”
Muldoon had beckoned Lorenzo forward； and was tying a rope around his waist。 Mackenzie
pushed Lorenzo aside； and announced； “I’ll be going across next。 I don’t trust Greiss and Woods
over there unsupervised。”
“I’m sure Guardsman Braxton can keep an eye on them； sir；” said Muldoon； tongue…in…cheek。
Mackenzie just glared at him； and said nothing。
Muldoon tied Mackenzie into his harness； then gave him the nod that he was ready to go。 He
didn’t help him up to the rope as he had most of the Jungle Fighters； he just watched as the
commissar scrambled up to it himself。 He took hold unsteadily； and eyed the acid river below him。
Then the commissar began to cross； moving hand over hand and foot over foot at a confident；
unhurried pace。 That was when Lorenzo caught that glint in Muldoon’s eye again； and he felt his
heart miss a beat。
He had heard that the attrition rate of commissars assigned to Catachan squads was many times
the Imperium average。 These losses were officially dismissed as accidents； of course—a natural
consequence of sending non…deathworlders； no matter how high…ranking； how well…trained； into an
environment to which they weren’t suited。 It was rarely acknowledged that there might be anything
more to it than that—at least； it hadn’t happened within Lorenzo’s earshot。 But everybody knew—or
at least suspected—the unspoken truth。
The deathworlds of the Imperium bred men who were independent； proud； and loyal only to
those who had earned their respect。 That went double for Catachan。
“He’s doing well；” murmured Muldoon； watching the commissar’s progress with obvious
resentment； “for a city boy。 Too well。”
He reached up to the end of the root rope； still tied to the tree beside him； and he looked at
Lorenzo as if he was challenging him to say something； to stop him—and it did occur to Lorenzo
that maybe he should； maybe it was the right thing to do； but his throat was dry and the words
wouldn’t come； and anyway this was nothing to do with him and even if it was； his loyalties lay
with his own kind； didn’t they？
Didn’t they？
Too late。 He was always too late。
Muldoon wrapped his fingers around the end of the rope and； with a smile of grim satisfaction；
he gave it a good tug。
Lorenzo watched as the vibrations travelled the first half of the rope’s length； to where
Mackenzie was clinging on。 There wasn’t time to shout a warning； even if he had wanted to。 The
rope jerked itself out of the commissar’s hands； simultaneously flipping him so that he was on top of
it。 He flailed； caught by surprise； trying to find fresh purchase； slipped； plummeted to the extent of
his harness’ slack—and then the harness gave way； as Lorenzo had known it must。 A simple
slipknot。
There was nothing holding Commissar Mackenzie now。
He was in freefall。
53
CHAPTER NINE
Lorenzo didn’t want to look； but he couldn’t turn away。
There was no time； anyhow。 Mackenzie would hit the acid before he could blink。
Unless； somehow； impossibly； the direction of his fall was reversed。
Unless he had managed to reach up and； with a last desperate lunge； catch the rope above his
h