the people dead — and of those who had survived； most would have joined their attackers and left
with them； marching on to wage their next bloody battle。
Even so； the sounds of other vehicles and of pounding machinery still thrummed through the
hive； and occasionally a voice could be heard raised in maniacal laughter or a tortured scream。
All in all； it was a sobering scene — especially for these nine soldiers who had； only yesterday；
been fighting to defend a hive much like this one。 The difference was； thought Grayle； that Alpha
Hive had been attacked from without； its walls beaten down。 The reason that Iota’s walls were still；
for the most part； standing was that it had suffered a far worse fate。 Iota had been attacked from
within。
When he had started the truck’s engine； it had roared like an asthmatic lion。 The unnatural sound
had reverberated from the roof and the walls until it had seemed loud enough to bring them all
crashing down。 Gavotski had handed him a tattered robe； torn from a dead cultist； and offered the
same to Barreski who was seated beside Grayle now in the cab。 Neither of them had been happy
about touching the foul cloth； wrapping it about their shoulders； but it had had to be done。
“The cultist I questioned talked about an Ice Palace；” Steele had said； “the stronghold of the
Chaos leader in these parts。 He didn’t exactly provide a map； but there’s no doubt that it will be the
most defensible and defended building in the city。 That means it will be as near as damn it to the
centre； and most likely on one of the higher levels。 We’ll have to make our way inwards and
upwards； get as close as we can to our goal before the enemy knows we’re here。”
So far； Grayle had seen precious little of the enemy — just a few shapes flitting across high
walkways； and at one point a cloaked figure slumped in the gutter； singing to herself。 That changed
as he guided his truck around a tight corner and was confronted by at least twenty of them。
It looked like they had been celebrating here； among the ruins。 There were bottles everywhere。
The revelry had died down now； though； and most of the cultists were lying around listlessly。 That
was； until they clapped eyes on the new arrivals。 A half…hearted cheer went up at the sight of what
the drunken cultists took to be friends； partners in their recent victory — and they rushed to
surround the truck； banging on its sides and rocking it on its suspension。
Grayle fought down his natural disgust； forced a tight smile onto his lips and gave a thumbs…up
sign through the window。 Beside him； Barreski tried to do likewise； but his smile didn’t quite reach
his eyes。 The cultists were probably too far gone to notice anyway； thought Grayle。 The real
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problems would arise if they were to open the truck’s back door and find a squad of Valhallan Ice
Warriors seated inside。
He had to get away from here — but the cultists were in front of him too； slowing him to a crawl
lest he crush three or four of them beneath his wheels。 The temptation to do just that was almost
irresistible。 However； he kept his cool； and was soon through the crowd； able to pull away from
them。
A moment later； Barreski sat bolt upright and cried； “Stop！ Stop here！” And Grayle stepped hard
on the brakes； although he couldn’t see the reason for the urgency。
Barreski hopped out of the cab； and scurried over to the corpse of an Imperial Guard officer。
Grayle almost laughed with relief。 There was no danger； his fellow tanker had just noticed a
salvageable piece of kit and hadn’t been able to resist it。 He peeled a metal gauntlet from the dead
Guardsman’s hand； and his face was alight with enthusiasm as he climbed back into his seat with it。
“Nice glove；” said Grayle。 “What’s it supposed to be？”
“A power fist； of course；” said Barreski； sounding surprised that his comrade didn’t know。 “You
put this on your arm； and it generates an energy field； lets you punch with the strength of ten men。 It
doesn’t seem too badly damaged； either。 The casing is a little scorched； that’s all。 Never used one
before； but I’ve seen them in action。 I’m pretty sure I can work out how to activate it。”
“Activate it？” said Grayle。 “You can barely even lift it！”
“Once this thing is working；” said Barreski； “it’ll lift itself。”
At that moment； knuckles rapped on the partition behind them； a reminder from their colonel
that they had a deadline。 Grayle started up the truck again； and guided it into an area of relatively
untouched streets； where the going was a little easier and cover more plentiful。 The habitats of the
lower…level hive…dwellers rose up around them； rows of tiny windows stretching to the roof。
They made good progress for a couple of hours — but eventually； inevitably； they ran into more
cultists。 The further they went； the more they saw； no matter how many detours Grayle took to avoid
them。 Their comings and goings appeared to be centred around a large； black building。 It was
obviously a manufactorum； and its great steaming chimneys signified that it was in use。
He performed a U…turn； heading back into the dark residential sector。 He pulled up in the
shadows just out of range of a sputtering light； and when Barreski asked him why； he explained；
“There are just a few too many heretics out there for my liking。 Someone’s bound to notice us soon；
and start asking questions。”
He had been intending to consult Colonel Steele； to ask his permission to abandon the truck。 He
was surprised to find his comrades already disembarking onto the street。
“I think you’re right； Grayle；” Steele said — and Grayle realised that； thanks to his augmented
senses； he had been well aware of everything that was happening outside the vehicle； had probably
heard its driver’s every word。 “It’s far too much of a risk to go through that crowd。 It’s time we
headed upwards。”
It was Palinev who found the lifter。
On Gavotski’s orders； the Ice Warriors had spread out in search of a way up to the hive’s higher
levels。 Creeping down an unlit street； Palinev had found himself uncomfortably close to the
manufactorum that Grayle had described。 He had seen cultists thronging in the lit area before it； but
so long as he kept close to the wall they couldn’t see him — and there had been a ladder in front of
him。
He had climbed it carefully； disappointed to find that it led only to a high bridge。 He had decided
to scout along it anyway — but before he could do so； his attention had been drawn to the scene laid
out beneath him。
The manufactorum had no roof。 This appeared to be by design rather than the result of battle
damage； as all six of its walls were whole。 Palinev was looking down into an enormous； round vat
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filled with what he could only describe as liquid fire。 Suspended above this were a number of thick
chains； attached to pulley systems； many of them trailing into the vat itself…and surrounding the vat
were hundreds of cultists； cheering and chanting while some of their number operated the levers of
squat grey machines in precise； arcane sequences。
Palinev could feel the heat of the fire； but that wasn’t the only thing that made his throat dry。
This； then； was the Chaos war machine at work； extracting iron from Cressida’s fertile ore as the
Imperium had done before it； using foul practices to fashion that iron into weapons； armour； vehicles
of destruction。 Cressida had fallen； but its occupiers selves for the next
conquest。
The lifter doors were tucked around the corner of a narrow walkway； out of sight of the evil
below。 The summoning rune was lit； so Palinev pressed it and took cover as； with a grinding and a
screeching of gears； the cab rose from what sounded like it must have been the lowest level of the
underhive。 The lifter was functional； and empty； so Palinev returned to the others to report his
discovery； being sure to keep low as he crossed the bridge again。
A few minutes later； the nine Ice Warriors packed themselves into the cramped cab； and Steele
activated one of the highest runes on its wall。
The journey upward took an age。 The wall runes lit in sequence as they passed each of the hive’s
hundred…plus levels。 Palinev was uncomfortably aware； as he was sure the others were； that were
anyone to hear their noisy approach； were they to stop the lifter for any reason； then its occupants
would be sitting ducks。
His heart sank as they bumped to a halt and； although the doors failed to open； the cab was filled
with a soft but insistent chime。
Gavotski sighed。 “I was afraid of this。 We can’t go any higher without an access code。 It’s to
keep the underhive dwellers from the higher levels。”
“Let me；” said Barreski。 He produced a knife； and inserted its blade into a vertical seam beside
the runes。 With some expert manipulation； he was able to flip open a section of the wall to reveal a
jumble of wires。 Palinev gasped as his comrade cavalierly plunged his hands into them。
Barreski pulled on several wires； tearing them from their mountings； seeming not to care as the
machine…spirits spat their disapproval。 He grinned as the chiming sound cut out and the lifter began
to rise again。
“A little trick I picked up as a boy；” he said。
They reached their destination at last； and the doors rumbled open； allowing nine grateful soldiers to
spill out onto a wide； empty street。
The contrast with the ground floor was extreme。 Although the Ice Warriors were still surrounded
by buildings； there were open walkways and squares in between； into which some natural light fell
from translucent panels in the hive’s roof some ten levels above them。 Below； the architecture had
been strictly utilitarian； but up here there were statues and fluted columns and fountains and
gargoyles。
Many of the buildings sported eagle crests over their doorways — administrative offices — but
Barreski could also see an apartment block with wide windows opening onto balconies。
Not that Chaos hadn’t left its mark here too。 Many of the walls had been defaced with hateful
sigils； most of the buildings looted and some burned out。 And the air was cold； far colder than it had
been below — almost as cold as it had been outside。
Steele had found something： a rectangular； white…framed data panel； mounted on a free…standing；
pivoting base。 He motioned Barreski to join him at it； and had him confirm that it was a public
terminal。 The interface was designed to be accessible； the inlaid runes simple to interpret； and
Barreski was soon able to punch up a plan of the hive； and to show Steele how to select more
detailed views of each of its levels and sectors。 Then he watched in fascination as the colonel
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scrolled through map after map； hardly pausing at some long enough to read their labels； but —
Barreski felt sure — somehow committing the details of each one to his augmented memory。
“Spaceport；” Steele muttered； as he lingered briefly over one map。 “That’s good to know。 Could
be a way out of here for us； if we’re lucky。”
“No mention of an Ice Palace though； sir？” asked Barreski。
“I wouldn’t have expected one。 I should think the Ice Palace is a recent addition； something
Mangellan has had built for himself。”
“It was Gavotski who su