The Ice Warriors by Brian Hayles Page B

is ready, you can set out at first light. And it isn’t as if we don’t know where he’s going, is it?’
    Clent, now fully recovered, cut in sharply. ‘How many times do I have to remind you, Doctor,’ he snapped, ‘that we are not chasing monsters all over that ice mountain!’
    ‘You really are very dense sometimes, Clent old chap,’ observed the Doctor. ‘With any luck, this creature will do our job for us! If there
is
a spacecraft, he’ll lead us to it. Don’t you see?’ Seeing the grudging agreement on Clent’s face, he added, ‘And as for digging his chums out of the glacier, it’ll take him ages bare-handed and alone! Isn’t that so, Arden?’
    Arden nodded, remembering how long it had taken Davis, using the best of equipment. But his eyes met the Doctor’s. He was suddenly aware that he wasn’t alone in wondering what other surprises the Ice Warrior might have in store for his human opponents…
    Victoria didn’t regain consciousness until she found herself sprawling and spluttering in the skin-tingling freshness of a moonlit snowdrift. She scrambled to her feet almost automatically, dusted the snow from her clothes, turned to look at her surroundings – and choked on a scream.
    The Ice Warrior was standing massively silhouetted against the night sky. His dark-screened eyes, eerie and menacing, glowed faintly as he turned slowly in a tight arc, scanning the surface of the glacier before him. A tiny circle of light pulsed regularly on his broad chest, and simultaneously a soft electronic ping – like an echo-sounder’s – could be heard. One moment the giant creature stood motionless, the next he strode forward to the ice face, and gouged out a great chunk of ice with his huge clamp-shaped hand.
    Victoria realised that this was her chance. While Varga studied the surface of the glacier, she prepared to make a silent escape – but she hadn’t reckoned with the fragments of loose ice half-buried in the snow. At the first step, her ankle twisted, her foothold gave way, and with a sharp cry, she found herself sprawled helplessly at the feet of the Ice Warrior. She waited for him to show his anger – but he seemed almost preoccupied. Slowly, Victoria got to her feet, and backed away into the shelter of a vertical crevasse, with Varga’s harsh whisper in her ears.
    ‘Do not try to escape,’ he hissed. ‘You are not equipped for survival!’
    He was right, of course. Sheltered from the keening wind, Victoria shivered and realised how small her chances would be out there on the open snow plain which stretched away into a silver whiteness under the cold eye of the moon. Here at least there was a possibility of staying alive – if only as Varga’s prisoner. She stared back at those strangely glowing eyes, and spoke bravely.
    ‘Where are we? At the glacier?’
    ‘Yes,’ Varga whispered, and sounded pleased. ‘I have located the position of my men inside the ice. At last!’
    Victoria was puzzled. Obviously the Ice Warrior had used some sort of detection device. But how had he known where to start in the first place? As though in reply to her question, Varga pointed to the crevasse in which Victoria crouched.
    ‘The place where you stand,’ he whispered, with no sign of misted breath showing on the frosted air, ‘is where your scientists cut me free.’ Wonderingly, Victoria looked all about her. She saw the regular grooves of a boring tool or drill, and frowned. If it had taken that sort of equipment to carve Varga from the living ice, how could he possibly hope to release his buried companions? She shivered again and started to stamp her feet and beat her hands together. If she stood still for much longer, she’d end up frozen inside the glacier herself!
    ‘Do not waste energy,’ commanded the Ice Warrior softly, and indicated that Victoria should move away from the ice face and stand by his side. At first, she objected.
    ‘I’ll freeze to death unless I keep my circulation going. At