The Unremembered Empire Part 37

*You really are having a problem with this mission, aren't you?' Damon asked.

*Aren't you?'

*No,' Damon replied. *h.e.l.l no.'

He glanced out to see if the guns.h.i.+p had moved far enough away for them to get moving again. It had not. He pulled back inside the arch and scowled at John.

*I agreed to serve them,' he said. *I'm a soldier. I'm loyal. End of.'

*I can read that you're not,' John replied.

Damon jerked back, eyes widening in alarm. *Get out of my d.a.m.n head, Grammaticus. I didn't invite you in.'

John held his hands up to show no intent.

*I'm not trying. Besides, you're warded against me,' he remarked. *Very clever warp-magic, Damon. The Cabal's not above using anything, is it? Whatever works?'

Damon leaned back against the bricks, scratched his temple and sighed.

*Look, John... If you want the truth, I am sick of it, sick of it all. I am sick of serving those xenos p.r.i.c.ks. I hate the fact that humanity has to take the fall to save the cosmos. I'm like you in that. But I was also telling the truth just now. I agreed to serve. I'm a soldier. I'm loyal. They showed me the bigger picture and I accepted it. I didn't like it, but I accepted it. They showed me the greater good. I'm a soldier, John. I understand expediency, pragmatism and necessary evil.'

*We were all soldiers, once,' said John. *All that experience taught me was the power of comrades.h.i.+p.'

Damon sniffed. *Yeah? Fine. I've got more heart than you think I have, Grammaticus. This whole thing hurts me more than you know. Maybe I'm not a soldier, then. Just a killer. An a.s.sa.s.sin. That's how the Cabal has employed me these last few thousand years. I work well. I work wet. The first thing I ever killed was my own conscience. It was a mercy killing. You still have yours, Johnny, and I really pity you for that.'

He grinned at John as if he had revealed some deep and profound truth.

*Okay?' he asked.

John smiled at the use of the archaic slang. *You sound like Oll,' he said.

*That loser?' asked Damon sourly. *Screw it, John. If you want to see what happens to a man when he listens to his conscience, then look at Ollanius-fugging-Persson. That surly old b.a.s.t.a.r.d could have used his gifts for good, but where is he?'

John smiled, a blank kind of well-you-have-me-there look. He hoped to h.e.l.l that the Cabal had not detected the risky clandestine efforts he had made to a.s.sist Oll Persson during the Calth disaster. Moreover, he hoped that they were blind to the new course that he had set Oll Persson upon. Unwillingly, Oll had embarked upon a thankless and thoroughly hazardous journey at John's bidding, to do something John knew full well that the Cabal would abhor...

That was why John hadn't been able to do it himself. That's why he'd had to recruit Oll.

It seemed that they were both about to strike blows for mankind against the interests of the Cabal. This truly was an age of rebellion and revolt.

Damon stared at John. He smiled, but there was very little warmth in the smile.

*Let's go, Johnny. You've had your moment. I get that you don't like this any more. Sorry. That's tough. "Boo hoo, too late," as someone recently said. We're going to do this. We going to do it properly, and square it away. We're going to complete this d.a.m.ned mission if it kills us.'

*It just might,' John said.

*Comes with the territory.' Damon replied. *I'm ready. Always have been.'

*What if I refuse, Damon?' John asked.

The guns.h.i.+p had moved on. Damon stepped onto the pavement. He looked back at John.

*Why would you go and do a silly thing like that?' he asked cheerfully. *Besides, I'm not going to let you refuse. That's why I'm here.'

*I wish to serve,' said Faffnr Bludbroder.

*You have already served, brother,' Verus Caspean a.s.sured him, *and served honourably.'

Entering the Audience Hall of the Residency, Faffnr had bowed before the new First Master of the Ultramarines out of respect. He got off his knees, and there was some effort involved. He had to lean on his axe.

*Curze left one of your pack dead, and put three more in the apothecarion,' said Caspean. *You ought to be there too. Your service isa'

*We are hunters,' said Faffnr. *Curze must be stopped. Allow the able members of my pack permission to deploy into the town, and we will find him.'

*For a re-match?' asked Dolor, standing at Caspean's side.

Faffnr grunted.

*Wolf, your valiant efforts are noted,' said Caspean. *But we do not even know if Curze still lives.'

*Have you seen his corpse?' asked Faffnr.

*No.'

*Then he still lives,' said the pack-master.

*I say you should allow the Wolf to a.s.sist you,' said Euten. She stood to one side of the Legion commanders, her arms hugged around her, her face more pale and gaunt than ever.

*The s.p.a.ce Wolves have displayed the most devoted and emotional loyalty to the rule of law,' she said. *I owe them my life.'

Faffnr looked at the Chamberlain Princ.i.p.al, and nodded in appreciation.

*I would, however, wish that the pack-master saw to his wounds before he set to inflict the same upon others,' she added.

*It's nothing,' Faffnr said.

*You leave blood wherever you walk.'

*I'll allow you to hunt,' said Caspean to Faffnr, *but you wait an hour for our first search sweeps to be finished. Let's see what they pick up. If Curze is still out of our sight by then, the Wolves can join the hunt.'

Caspean glanced over at Timur Gantulga who was waiting nearby, fronting a group of his own battle-brothers and Eeron Kleve's Iron Hands.

*The White Scar's pet.i.tion is also granted subject to similar conditions. It was astute reasoning that led you to see that Curze had switched from the Fortress to the Residency. Both you and the Wolves clearly have insight into his tactics.'

*How rea.s.suring should we find it that the s.p.a.ce Wolves and the White Scars think like Konrad Curze?' asked Farith Redloss.

Dolor looked at him sharply.

*I mean to say,' said Farith Redloss, *perhaps we can learn much from our more feral brothers.'

*Like manners?' suggested Dolor.

*My lords! Lady Euten!'

They turned to see t.i.tus Prayto limping into the hall. His face was tight with pain. Like Faffnr Bludbroder, he had not spent anything like enough time in the apothecarion.

*I bid you all come with me, quickly,' he said directly.

They followed him out of the hall and along a banner-lined terrace into the Reading Room of the Residency. The chamber was lined with gla.s.s-cased cabinets filled with books and slates.

*Look,' said Prayto.

An odd glow had formed in one corner of the Reading Room. It was distinctly an other light, the displaced luminosity that accompanied the Pharos's communication field. The curious light reflected eerily from the gla.s.s cases of the cabinets.

*I believe that Warsmith Dantioch is attempting to retune the link,' t.i.tus said.

*This is good news at least,' said Caspean.

*We must set up a watch, to see if contact improves,' said Prayto, *and also have patrols tour the Residency and the Fortress. There were multiple location manifestations before stable contact was originally established.'

The First Master was about to issue the instructions, but he stopped dead as the unworldly light washed over them with a brighter, flickering radiance.

The field had expanded and suddenly resolved into greater clarity. A figure stood before them, half-manifested, like a shade of the dead walking at midnight. It was impossible to identify.

*There, I knew it could be done,' a voice said, from all around them. *Did I not say it could be done?'

*Who is there?' Caspean called out. *Who hails us from far away Sotha?'

The communication field flickered, and then disappeared all together. The odd light drained from the Reading Room.

Caspean, Dolor and the other Ultramarines officers looked to each other.

*I'm afraid this process could take days or weeks to establish,' said Prayto.

*I do not comprehend this trickery,' said Farith Redloss, *but perhapsa'

*ano, no, not lost!' the voice suddenly cut in, speaking out of the cabinets, out of the very books around them. *Not lost at all! Patience! The field must be stabilised, that is all! Just a small adjustment, anda'

Silence.

*That was Dantioch's voice, I would swear it,' said Dolor.

*My Lord Dantioch? Warsmith?' Caspean called out again. *This is Macragge! We hear you! We almost see you!'

*aI insist it is not lost! I will not let it be losta' the voice boomed and cut away.

Abruptly, the light returned.

This time it was brighter and more steady. Everyone stepped back involuntarily as a portion of the Reading Room filled with the gleaming black mirror-stone of Primary Location Alpha, as if some ingenious mechanical scenery for a play had been rolled out across a stage.

The clarity of the background was astonis.h.i.+ng. They could almost feel the cool black rock and the soft air. The immediate foreground was slightly out of focus, creating a hazy cloud in the shape of a man or some man-thing.

The focus popped. The figure resolved into perfect clarity to match the background.

It was the warsmith, slumped uncomfortably upon his great wooden seat on the tuning floor. He appeared tired and haggard, propped up by his crude throne. He looked like the ancient monarch of a dying kingdom a the last of his line, waiting wearily in an abandoned throne room for his life, his rule and his name to become history.

*There, as I said,' the warsmith announced, *not lost at all. Sensitive, but not lost.'

*My Lord Dantioch,' Caspean said.

*Well, I can't do anything about the sensitivity,' said Dantioch. *There is still so much about the process to learn and understand.'

They realised that he was not addressing them. He was speaking to one side, to a person or persons not in the field.

*My Lord Dantioch?' Prayto called.

The warsmith peered out of the field at them.

*My Lord Prayto,' he said. *It is good to see you. Transmission was disrupted for a while.' Dantioch looked to his left. *Move to your right,' they heard him say. *The focus is here. I see Prayto and others.'

Other figures appeared beside him, repositioning themselves in the field: two Ultramarines, then a figure in yellow plate, unmistakably the Imperial Fist, Alexis Polux.

*How is Polux there?' Prayto exclaimed. *Howa'

His words died away.

Roboute Guilliman and the Lion loomed into the field beside the seated warsmith.

Everyone in the Reading Room dropped to their knees.

*My friends and brothers on Macragge!' said Dantioch. *Do not make me attempt an explanation, for it is too complex. In short, I am happy to confirm that your primarchs, along with the worthy Alexis Polux, are alive and here with me on Sotha.'

*The Emperor be praised,' said Caspean.

*I feared the night's losses were too great for us to bear,' said Farith Redloss.

*There is the small matter of us returning,' said the Lion. *We have stepped across eternity, so it seems, by simple force of will, of need. It was not a conscious decision, but rather one of the emotions.'

He stepped forward, but did not seem able to pa.s.s into the Reading Room. Every time he came too far, he simply vanished from the field. Striding back into view, he glanced at Dantioch in frustration.

*It did not promise it was a two-way process, my lord,' said the warsmith, and sighed. *Try to focus on your greatest need, your greatest wish.'

*I should make a wish?' said the Lion. *You make it sound like a fairy story.'

*Perhaps such technologies and their functions are the root of such stories,' said Dantioch.

The Lion scowled.

*I do not wish to be here,' he said. Again, he seemed to have no success in stepping out of the field.