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“It was an accident。”
Lorenzo had surprised himself again； but he felt he owed Muldoon something。 He was
committed now； everyone had turned to look at him。
“I was right there；” he said。 “I saw it all。 A bird flew at Muldoon。 One of the black ones； from
yesterday。 It came right out of the tree above his head。 It startled him。 His arm jolted the rope。”
“That’s right。” Woods spoke up。 “I saw it from here。 Sharkbait slashed at it with his reaper；
injured its wing I think； and sent it flapping away。”
A couple of the others gave nods and murmurs of agreement。
Mackenzie looked from one of the Jungle Fighters to another； evidently not believing a word of
their story。 “My harness—”
“—must have been frayed；” said Muldoon。 “I’m sorry。 I should have checked it more closely。 I
should have seen the damage before I sent you off。 Sir。”
Mackenzie glared at Muldoon for a long moment。 Then he turned to Braxton。 “I still want him
bound；” he said。 “To ensure there are no more ‘accidents’。”
This time； both Myers and Storm stepped forward； placing themselves between Braxton and
Muldoon； their arms folded in defiance。 Woods drew his devil claw； the glint of it catching the
commissar’s eye and giving him pause for thought。
“I don’t think you’re hearing us； Mackenzie；” growled Greiss； stepping forward until he was
nose to nose with the slighter man。 “You may be Mr High…and…Mighty Commissar back in your
comfortable quarters； surrounded by a thousand Guardsmen ready to bow and scrape and lay down
their lives for you—but you’re on a deathworld now。 This is our territory—that’s why we’re here！
Until you start to wise up and do things our way； ‘accidents’ are going to keep on happening； you
get my drift？”
“Are you threatening me； Greiss？” demanded Mackenzie。 “I have witnesses。”
“You have Braxton。”
“If anything happens to me； anything at all—”
“It’ll be in his report。 Yes； I worked that out。 If he ever gets to make one； that is。 Like I keep
telling you； Mackenzie； accidents happen out here。”
Mackenzie’s ears were still red； but the rest of his face had turned very white indeed。 He’d got
the message； at last。
“He’s a good man； you know。”
Lorenzo’s attention had been focused on the jungle。 There had been more lizards stirring in the
foliage； and he’d that feeling of being followed again although he could see no proof。 He hadn’t
55
noticed Braxton until he had spoken； hadn’t seen that he’d dropped back in the marching order to be
at Lorenzo’s side。 Briefly； he felt irritated that the Validian always seemed to come to him。 Lorenzo
didn’t feel like talking right now； least of all about what had happened by the river。
But Braxton was determined。 “The commissar； I mean；” he continued。 “You’ll see that when
you’ve worked beside him for a while。”
Lorenzo raised a sceptical eyebrow。
“I know he’s been tough on you all。 He’s fresh out of training。 Maybe he’s trying too hard to
prove he can do the job。”
“His problem；” said Lorenzo curtly。 “We can’t afford to carry him。 On Catachan； he’d have been
dead twenty years ago。”
“Thank you； anyway；” said Braxton。
“For what？”
“For stopping Muldoon。 I saw you。”
“You were too far away。 You’re mistaken。”
“You must agree with me—that the commissar doesn’t deserve to die。”
“I agree with my comrades；” said Lorenzo； “that Old Hardhead doesn’t deserve what Mackenzie
has planned for him； that Steel Toe was a good soldier； who didn’t deserve what Mackenzie said
about him。”
“There has to be a way—”
“It’s him or Greiss。”
“You know； if it comes down to that；” said Braxton； “I… I have to…” Lorenzo nodded。 He
knew。 They said no more。 There was nothing more to say。
They rested in an area lush with what Muldoon and Donovits judged were water…bearing vines。
They snacked on purple berries that Muldoon had picked and tested earlier。 Then Lorenzo drew his
Catachan fang； took a vine in his hand and scored a thin cut in its skin。 The vine bled clear； and
Lorenzo positioned his near…empty bottle to capture the precious drops of liquid； of which there
were all too few。
Within twenty minutes； the Jungle Fighters had drained the vines of all they had； replenishing
their supplies just a little。 As Lorenzo returned his bottle to his pack； he heard low voices； and
realised that Greiss wasn’t with them。
He could just make out Sergeant Greiss through the jungle。 He was talking to somebody else： a
man whom Lorenzo couldn’t see at all； so easily did he blend into his surroundings； but he knew it
could only have been Sly Marbo。 He couldn’t make out what was being said—but as Greiss turned
and trudged back to the others； it was with slumped shoulders and a dark； brooding expression。
He gathered the Jungle Fighters around—and to Lorenzo’s surprise； Mackenzie didn’t object； he
just joined them and listened。 Greiss told the squad what Lorenzo already knew： that there were orks
ahead—and Mackenzie raised his eyebrows and frowned at his sketch map but again said nothing。
“Marbo’s scouted a path for us；” said Greiss； “that’ll take us around the greenskins； but still too
close for my liking。 Now； the commissar here explained why we can’t blow our cover； but here’s
another reason for you： Marbo figures； from the size of this camp and the number of huts； that the
greenskins outnumber us about thirty to one。 Even Hotshot can’t take down thirty orks on his own！”
“Oh yeah？” grinned Woods。 “Lead me to ’em； that’s all I’m saying。”
“So the only way we’re getting through this one。” Greiss continued； “is by stealth。”
“How far is this camp？” asked Donovits。
“Another five kilometres；” said Greiss； “before we start running into patrols。 I say we make up
that ground； then break early for the night。 We get some food； some shut…eye； then make our move
in the small hours。”
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There was a general murmur of assent； and the Jungle Fighters were starting to get to their feet；
to retrieve their packs； when Greiss stopped them。 “One more thing。 Any of you felt like you’re
being followed？ Since Lorenzo’s little outburst； I mean。”
Nobody spoke up。 A few of the Jungle Fighters exchanged uncomfortable glances。 Greiss’ eyes
narrowed。 “I don’t hear any of you denying it。”
Unexpectedly； it was Mackenzie who spoke up。 “I thought I heard something。 Footsteps； about
an hour and a half ago。 When I looked； there was no one there。 I assumed it was Marbo。”
“I saw something；” offered Donovits； “more recently。 I didn’t speak up because… Sergeant； it
was just a flicker in the corner of my eye。 A trick of the light。 A… a feeling； more than anything。”
“Wildman and me； we dropped back without telling the rest of you；” said Myers； “checked out a
bush where I thought I’d seen something move。 It would’ve been about the time the commissar
said。”
“But there was no one there。” Storm took up the story； “and believe me； if there had been； there
was nowhere he could’ve gone without us seeing him。”
Greiss took all this in with a grim nod。 “Marbo reckons there is something。 He’s caught glimpses
of it； like the rest of us； reckons it’s stalking us。 But whenever he gets too close； it disappears。 It
leaves no tracks； no nothing。” With a smile； he added； “Marbo says it’s almost as good as he is。”
“Ghosts！” said Braxton。
Everyone turned to look at him。
“That’s what the Validians have been saying。 I reported on it for Eagle & Bolter； our broadsheet。
The same story； from four different squads。 They all had the feeling they were being followed； but
there was no evidence of it。 I thought it might be connected to the blue lights； the jungle playing
tricks on their minds。”
“Hallucinogens in the atmosphere？” mused Donovits。 “Could be put out by one of the plants。
They could even be in the berries we’ve eaten。”
“I didn’t eat any berries；” said Myers； “at least not till after I saw that… thing。”
“This could be serious；” grumbled Greiss。 “First Sharkbait goes off the deep end； then Steel Toe
and Lorenzo go wandering in the night； now this。 If this jungle gets us so we can’t trust our own
senses…”
“You said Marbo saw this ‘ghost’；” said Donovits。 “He saw it following us。 If the jungle were
affecting him； making him—making all of us—paranoid； then surely he’d have thought the ghost
was following him。 That makes sense； yes？”
“Then it has to be real；” said Lorenzo。
“We need to know for sure；” said Armstrong。
“Maybe we should leave well enough alone；” said Braxton。 “I mean； there’s no record of these
‘ghosts’ attacking anyone。”
“Yet；” said Armstrong。 “You should have learned by now； that could change in a heartbeat。 I say
we search。”
Greiss nodded his agreement； and the squad separated； each man taking a sector of the jungle
around them； though each was sure to stay within sight of two others at all times。 They kicked and
cut their way through the undergrowth； beat bushes； shook trees and even shinned up some to search
their leaf…shrouded upper branches。 The Jungle Fighters checked all the places where they would
have hidden。 Finally； they regrouped； having covered an area some three hundred metres in radius
an