The Unremembered Empire Part 11

*Let nothing, and I mean nothing, come within firing distance of Macragge until it has been inspected. I suggest using some of the outer starforts in mid-system as way stations. Let no s.h.i.+p land, or send landers to the surface, until the ident.i.ty of both the s.h.i.+p and its occupants have been verified by eye and gene-code.'

*That will slow all trade and imports to a crawl!' said one of the city officials.

*It will,' Polux agreed, *but it will also slow down the ticking of the doomsday clock.'

*What of our veterans, returning from Calth and the other warzones?' asked an Ultramarines captain beside Auguston. *Must their pa.s.sage be delayed in this ignominious way too?'

*I think after what happened in the Residency,' grumbled Auguston, *we know the answer to that. What else, Polux?'

*That,' he said, pointing at the orbiting wreck of the Furious Abyss, now clearly visible as it crested the horizon.

*It's dead,' said Auguston, *and what's left of it is being dismantled by reclamation teams. What of it?'

*It's a hazard to navigation,' Polux replied, *and furthermore, it is a military threat. Effective sabotage could knock it from orbit, and drop every megatonne of its metal bulk on this city. The enemy is not beyond such tricks, First Master. That corpse-s.h.i.+p must be towed beyond the orbit of the outer moons and dismantled there.'

*Anything else?'

*Orbit-to-surface teleporting must be restricted, and all entry to the planet by craft or teleport forbidden, unless it comes through the designated area of this port. I suggest the installation of upgraded void s.h.i.+elds to cover the lower orbital tracks and the port area, enough to close it down if necessary. I also suggest a proportion of the orbital sensor systems and auspex modules be re-tasked to cover the surface of the planet.'

*Why?'

*I'm talking about a new philosophy of defence, First Master. You have fortified the system, the planet and the city in case of another Calth. You have more than enough s.h.i.+ps and battery systems to fend off any openly hostile approach to Macragge. But the incident in the Residency proves that an open a.s.sault is not the only way our enemies may come for us. Treachery comes in different scales, sir. A small percentage of your auspex modules could be retrained to cover the entire surface of this world without significant impairment of the early warning or system scanning watch processes. If anyone lands a s.h.i.+p or uses a drop pod or a teleport system outside this restricted port area, you'll know about it. Do not a.s.sume you can keep them out, sir. A planet is a vast area. a.s.sume they will get in, and make sure you see their footprints when they do.'

Auguston pursed his lips. He was annoyed at the way the Imperial Fist had schooled him in basic defence a.n.a.lysis, and made the conclusions look so obvious, but he also knew that including most of Polux's suggestions in his report would make it look as though he'd done a particularly thorough job.

*You're worth listening to, Polux,' he said grudgingly.

*I take that as high praise from you, sir.'

Polux looked up at the light of the Pharos.

*You have hung up a lamp to draw travellers here out of the storm, my lord, and that is right and just, and the only way that a fair and n.o.ble civilisation can survive. However, you must scrutinise who and what the light brings to you, and how disguised their real motives are. I would certainly like to know more about your "new Astronomican". Understanding its function and process may a.s.sist me in making good recommendations for Macragge's protection. I do not even know where it is situated, or what manner of technology allows it to function.'

*That is cla.s.sified,' said one of the aides, *but I am sure the primarch will permit you to discuss basics with the warsmith.'

*Did you say warsmith?' asked Polux.

The aide nodded.

*Warsmith Dantioch has led the operation to activate the Pharos,' said Auguston.

*An Iron Warrior?' Polux asked, his voice low.

*Is that a problem, captain?'

Guilliman walked with a slight limp, though it would mend. His throat and one side of his face looked as though he had been dragged along rockcrete by a Scimitar jetbike.

He had dressed in a loose tunic and robes to cover the extensive bandaging around his torso, and had refused the armoured bodyglove for reasons of mobility and comfort. He told his advisors that he would not be making a similar error again. However, until he was healed enough to wear full war-plate, he accepted the heavy belt slung with a refractor field generator, which he wore under his robes. To it, he had holstered a Maetherian ray-pistol, a formidable piece of archeotech from his personal collection.

t.i.tus Prayto and Drakus Gorod of the Invictus accompanied him wherever he went, the Librarian and the heavy-armoured beast, ready to sense danger and dispense violence.

So escorted, he returned to the Residency for the first time since the attack. He had ordered that nothing be touched or repaired until he had the chance to review the scene. t.i.tus Prayto read very cleanly the psychological intent of this. Guilliman wanted to face his daemons. He wanted to look directly at the circ.u.mstances in which he had nearly died. Prayto could sense the underlying tension in the primarch like a tremble in the air. It disquieted him. When the greatest beings in the universe registered stress or tension, it was time for all things living to find cover.

They came up the hallway. The carpet was dappled with dark stains, a trail of blood where Gorod and his men had carried Guilliman out. Ahead of them was the door that the Invictus guard had cut open.

Men waited for them at the doorway: a pack of men.

They looked up, yellow eyes alert, heads c.o.c.ked, the moment Guilliman and his escort came into view. They had been huddled around the doorway, resting or sharpening their blades. None of them had dared cross the threshold into the primarch's inner chambers.

Guilliman approached. Faffnr Bludbroder's wolf pack rose to meet him, not as a challenge, but as an honour guard.

*This isn't my hearth,' Guilliman said, looking at the pack-leader.

*No, jarl, it's your door,' Faffnr agreed. *Your door will do, for now.'

Guilliman nodded.

*We were told not to go in. Told it was your orders,' Faffnr added.

*They were my orders,' Guilliman agreed.

*Dogs must always wait at the doorpost,' Gorod rumbled out of the depths of his Terminator plate, *until the master lets them in. Good dogs, that is. Good dogs stay at the edge of the firelight, waiting for sc.r.a.ps, until they are allowed near the hearth.'

Faffnr turned his head slowly and stared into the Cataphractii's gargoyle visor. His eyes were unblinking. One of his men leaned forward and whispered something into the pack-leader's ear. A half-smile crinkled Faffnr's lips, exposing one fang.

*No, Bo Soren,' he said. *I can't let you do that. Though it would be funny to watch.'

Faffnr glanced up at Guilliman.

*You'd let your warrior speak to me like that, jarl?' he asked.

*It's exactly what you were thinking,' said t.i.tus Prayto.

Faffnr looked at Prayto. He sniffed, and then chuckled and nodded.

*It was, maleficarum, it was. True enough. We have a low opinion of ourselves, I suppose, but a high opinion of our loyalty and obedience.'

*What about your obedience, Jarl Guilliman?' Faffnr asked sidelong of the Avenging Son, his stare fixed rigidly on the Librarian's face.

*Is it questioned, Wolf?' asked Guilliman. *Because I use the Librarius in defiance of the Edict? The Edict was made before this war was begun. It is obsolete. We need the Librarius if we're going to survive. Does that make me disobedient?'

Faffnr let out a deep, wet growl, like a jungle beast. His eyes stayed on Prayto's face.

*He thinks it might make you courageous and decisive in your obedience,' Prayto told Guilliman, holding Faffnr's stare, *to pursue your loyalty through decisive, unilateral and perhaps unpopular choices. He thinks that's why you are a great leader.'

Guilliman nodded.

*Tell him the rest while you're in there, maleficarum,' said Faffnr.

*He thinks he will, nevertheless, keep a very close watch on you, lord,' said Prayto.

*A day without a clumsy threat from you is not complete, is it, Faffnr?' asked Guilliman. *Really? Again with this? Me, alone in a room against a squad of ten? In case you've missed recent events, I've already done that.'

Faffnr Bludbroder shrugged.

*They were Alpha Legion. Not Wolves.'

*I did it unarmed.'

Faffnr broke his gaze from Prayto and looked at Guilliman. *I never said it wasn't well done,' he replied.

Prayto smiled.

*Will you let my pack guard your hall, jarl?' asked Faffnr. *We've come a long way to protect the Emperor's peace.'

*I think that responsibility is fully covered,' rumbled Gorod, his words grinding out of the helm-vox, one by one, like heavy calibre rounds from a chain-fed weapon.

*Not well enough, looks like,' replied Faffnr.

*Not even nearly well enough,' added Bo Soren.

*You may cross my threshold, Wolves,' Guilliman said. *You may approach the fireside. I'll permit it. But do not obstruct Gorod or his men. Can you be obedient in that respect?'

Faffnr nodded. His men broke and stood aside.

Guilliman entered the room where he had nearly met his end.

The furniture was shattered. The great desk was scarred and gouged like a meteor. There were holes in the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Pictures had fallen from their suspensions and broken. One portrait of Konor still hung, but the entire area of the face and shoulders was shot away. Hanging canvas shreds and fibres stilled in the gentle air-circulation.

All the corpses had been removed, but the carpets were still dyed with the lifeblood of the Legiones Astartes, and the walls were speckled with yet more blood that had dried and looked like black paint or spatters of tar. Parts of the wall and chunks of heavy furniture were peppered with pieces of exploded plate armour, shards of ceramite flung out from exploding wounds to embed like shrapnel. The main windows were crazed with spider-web patterns. One series of cracks looked like a coiled snake: a multi-headed coiled snake.

Guilliman drew a breath. He knew he was in a slightly heightened state. He was reading symbols and portents into things that had no significance.

He closed his eyes. For a millisecond, the noise and fury of the moment came back, filling his head, every last moment relived in flaring, vivida He opened his eyes again.

*My lord?' asked Prayto.

*I'm all right,' Guilliman said. He looked around, and moved forward, each step crunching scattered gla.s.s chips into the carpet. Konor's cold-gestalt cogitator, and the stand that had housed it, was a smashed wreck on the floor. A falling body had crushed it.

Guilliman stared at the debris for a moment. The living history of Macragge, the rise of Ultramar, the fortunes of the Five Hundred Worlds, had all been witnessed and monitored by that ancient device. It was strange. The loss seemed to carry more emotional weight than had been provoked by the sight of his stepfather's disfigured portrait. Guilliman felt unexpected levels of sentiment rising within him.

*I will needa' he began. His voice cracked slightly.

*A replacement device,' Prayto finished quickly. *I will speak to the adepts of the Mechanic.u.m at once about furnis.h.i.+ng you with a new cogitator system, a cognis-signum application device that will enhance data processing.'

Guilliman nodded.

*I feel...' he began to say to Prayto. He stopped. Gorod was waiting behind them at the door, the Wolves in the doorway behind him. Guilliman walked to the windows on the far side of the room and stood with his back to the doorway, staring out. Prayto went with him.

*You feel pain and sadness,' said Prayto, *and you do not want the others to overhear this.'

Guilliman nodded again.

*It is a delayed reaction, lord,' said Prayto.

*To an attack? I've lived through wars, Prayto a I've fought daemons, and my own brothers. I've taken worse wounds than this.'

*That was not my meaning, lord.'

*Then what? To the loss of an old cogitator?'

*I think that was just the trigger, my lord. It was an heirloom. It had personal meaning to you.'

*Then what, I say? A delayed reaction to what?'

*To Horus,' said Prayto.

Guilliman sighed deeply.

*Make sure they come no closer,' he said to Prayto.

Prayto nodded, letting the unspoken thought finish in his mind.

Because I do not want those Wolves to see me with a tear in my d.a.m.ned eyes.

Euten found him alone in the room. Prayto had gone to meet with the Mechanic.u.m, and Guilliman had sent Gorod and the Wolves out so he could have time for reflection. He heard her greet Gorod and grumble at the feral wolf pack as she came through the outer door.

He had raised one of the larger seats onto its feet. The back was shot out of it, so the shredded leather padding looked like ruptured blubber. He had placed it in front of the cobwebbed windows, and was sitting, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

*Do you bring me the day's agenda, mam?' he asked, without looking at her.

*I do not,' she replied. *I have dealt with most matters. You need time to think.'

*I never stop thinking, mam.'

*Then you need time to focus, my lord. The hour has come to commit.'

He glanced at her, though he still sat forward.

*I have already committed. You know this. Macragge, and the Five Hundred Worlds... They are the Imperium. Imperium Secundus. The contingency that we never even dreamed might be necessary is now a practical.'

She nodded.

*You continue to evade my meaning,' she said. *What I mean is, I think it's time you admitted it to more than just me and your closest confidences. It has been your private theoretical a now you must declare Imperium Secundus formally and publically. You have to have strength in your conviction, and not shrink from the more unedifying aspects of it. If you do not have faith in it, then neither will a single soul in the Five Hundred Worlds.'

He opened his mouth to answer, but said nothing.

*What is it? What makes you hesitate?' Euten asked. *Is it a fear that you are usurping every bit as much as Horus? Or is ita'