For The Emperor, page 16
‘So I’ve been told.’ I waited a heartbeat before smiling. ‘Though I can’t say I see it myself.’ The corner of Amberley’s mouth twitched, with what looked like genuine amusement.
‘Oh yes, the modest hero routine. You’ve got that one off pat, no question.’ She knocked back the rest of her drink in one, and signalled for another, leaving me gaping like an idiot. Her smile widened. ‘What’s next? “I’m just a humble soldier,” or “Trust me, I’m a servant of the Emperor?”’
‘I’m not quite sure what you’re insinuating–’ I began, but she cut me off with a chuckle.
‘Ooh, honest indignation. I haven’t seen that one in a while.’ She picked at the bowl of nuts on the table, some local variety I didn’t recognise, and flashed a grin of pure mischief at me. ‘Lighten up, commissar, I’m only pulling your leg.’
Yes, right, I thought. And letting me know you can see right through every little manipulative trick in my repertoire in the process. Something of this must have shown on my face, because her eyes softened.
‘You could just try being yourself, you know.’
The thought was terrifying. I’d spent so long hiding behind masks I was no longer sure there was a genuine Ciaphas underneath them any more, just a quivering little bundle of self-interest. Then an even more terrifying thought hit me; she could tell what I was thinking! Everything I’d tried to conceal about my fraudulent reputation would be open to her, and the inquisition... Emperor’s bowels!
‘Relax. I’m not a psyker. Just very good at reading people.’ She watched me sag into my seat with relief, not even trying to conceal it, the faint amusement still dancing in the back of her eyes. ‘Whatever you’re afraid I’ll find out is still safe. And it’ll stay that way. Unless you give me a reason to start looking for it.’
‘I’ll do my best not to,’ I promised, picking up my own drink with a shaky hand.
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Her smile was warm again. ‘Because I was hoping you could help me.’
‘Help you with what?’ I asked, already sure I wasn’t going to like the answer.
The conference suite was less crowded this time, although since two of the others present were Lord General Zyvan and an inquisitor who was already making it perfectly clear that she was in charge here, it certainly seemed full enough to me. The only other person present was Mott, the elderly savant, who sat bright and alert, occasionally poking at the dent in his leg left by a hasty techpriest who hadn’t quite finished patching him up when the summons to the meeting had arrived.
‘Thank you for joining us, commissar.’ Amberley flashed me a smile which looked genuinely warm, although as an experienced manipulator myself, I wasn’t quite sure how far I could trust it. Zyvan nodded a greeting, also pleased to see me.
‘Hello again.’ Mott smiled, surprisingly clear brown eyes flickering behind his excess of beard. He evidently hadn’t found the time to wash the smell of the fire out of his hair and robes, or simply didn’t care. ‘You’ve caused us a great deal of inconvenience, young man. Although I suppose you weren’t to know.’
‘Know what?’ I asked, trying not to snap. I’d grabbed a couple of sandwiches to try and mop up the alcohol I’d drunk, and got Jurgen to find me some recaf, but between the amasec and the reaction from the day’s adventures, my head was still buzzing.
‘All in good time.’ Amberley smiled indulgently at the wizened sage. ‘Caractacus does tend to skip the dull bits given half a chance.’
‘When you get to my age, you don’t have the time to waste on them,’ he responded, smiling in return. I realised that this was all part of an easy familiarity between them, which spoke volumes for the trust the inquisitor placed in him, and the length of their association. He turned back to me. ‘Which reminds me, thank you for coming to our assistance. It was most timely.’
‘My pleasure,’ I said.
‘Then you have an extremely perverse idea of what constitutes fun. You should get out more.’
Amberley shook her head, and raised an eyebrow at me, in an exaggerated mime of exasperation.
‘You just can’t get the help these days,’ she said. I couldn’t think of any adequate response to this, so I said nothing. I’d never had a really clear idea of what an inquisitor was supposed to be like, although like most people, I had a vague impression of some scary psychopath who slaughtered their way through the Emperor’s enemies. Amberley, on the other hand, seemed to be the complete antithesis of this. She had her ruthless streak, of course, as I was to find out during our long association, but back then, the cheerful, slightly whimsical young woman with the strange sense of humour seemed about as far removed from the general preconception of her profession as it was possible to get[36]. Zyvan cleared his throat.
‘Inquisitor. Perhaps we could get to the matter at hand?’
‘Of course.’ She activated the hololith, thumping it in just the right spot to bring the image into focus. ‘It goes without saying that everything you see and hear is completely confidential, commissar.’
‘Of course.’ I nodded.
‘Good. I’d hate to have to kill you.’ She smiled again, and I wondered if she was joking or not. These days, of course, I know she meant every word of it.
‘In case you haven’t been paying attention,’ she went on, ‘I’m an agent of the Ordo Xenos. You know what that means?’
‘You deal with aliens?’ I hazarded. Back then, I had only the vaguest idea that the inquisition was divided into multiple ordos with specific areas of interest and responsibility, but it was a pretty easy deduction to make. Amberley nodded approval.
‘Exactly,’ she began.
‘For the most part, anyway,’ Mott chimed in helpfully. ‘There was that Chaos cult on Arcadia Secundus, and the heretics of Ghore–’
‘Thank you, Caractacus,’ she said, meaning, ‘shut the warp up,’ so he did. As I was soon to discover, being a savant meant being obsessed with detail and trivia, and all the pedantry that went with it. Imagine the worst barroom know-it-all you ever met, who really does, and is cursed with a tourette-like compulsion to spill out everything relevant on any topic that comes up, and you’re about halfway there. Although he could be incredibly annoying at times, I found him good company in his own way once I got to know him. Especially as his gifts included an uncanny intuitive grasp of probability which we put to good use in a number of gambling establishments over the years.
Amberley pulled up a star chart on the hololith, which I recognised without too much difficulty, as it had been reproduced in far less detail in the briefing slate I’d skimmed through before we made planetfall.
‘The Damocles Gulf,’ I said, and she nodded.
‘We’re here.’ She pointed out the Gravalax system, seemingly alone and isolated on the fringes of Imperial space. ‘Notice anything about the topography of the region?’
‘We’re close to the tau border,’ I said, playing for time as I studied the images. She wouldn’t be alluding to anything that obvious, I was sure. Several of the neighbouring systems were tagged with blue icons, marking them as tau-held worlds. In fact they almost engulfed our present position, with only a thin chain of friendly yellow beacons connecting us to the welcoming haven of Imperial space. ‘Too close,’ I concluded finally. ‘If we had to fight a war here, our supply lines would be far too thin for comfort.’
‘Precisely.’ Zyvan nodded approval, and indicated a couple of choke points. ‘They could cut us off here, and here with no trouble at all. We’d be blockaded and swallowed up in months. While they could reinforce at their leisure from at least four systems.’
‘Which is why we’re so desperate to avoid a full-scale war over this miserable mudball,’ Amberley said. ‘Keeping it would tie up our naval assets from at least three sectors just to secure our supply lines, and we’d be funnelling Guard and Astartes units in from all over the Segmentum. Putting it bluntly, it’s not worth the effort.’
To say that I was astonished would be putting it mildly. It had been an article of faith for as long as I could remember that the sacred domains of His Majesty’s Imperium should never be polluted by the alien no matter the cost. And here was an inquisitor no less, and the lord general himself, apparently quite happy to let the tau just walk in and have the place. Well that was fine with me, of course, especially if it kept me out of the firing line, so I nodded judiciously.
‘I can sense a “but” coming,’ I said.
‘Quite right.’ Zyvan nodded, clearly pleased by my astuteness. ‘Just letting the little blue grox-lovers walk in and take the place isn’t acceptable either. It would send entirely the wrong message to them. They’re already popping up on worlds all over the sector and arming to keep them. If they take Gravalax without a fight, they’ll think half the Segmentum is up for grabs.’
‘But we could beat them in the long run,’ I said, trying not to picture the decades of grinding attrition that would ensue as the overwhelming might of the Imperium met the technosorcery of the tau. It would be the biggest bloodbath since the Sabbat Worlds crusade.
‘We could. Eventually.’ Amberley nodded soberly. ‘If they were the only threat we had to face.’ She widened the view, systems falling into the centre of the hololith, new ones coalescing at the fringes of the projection field. Several systems were tagged in red. I recognised one of them as Corania, and then, a moment later, I picked out the Desolatia system where I’d first been blooded against a tyranid horde over a decade before.
‘In the last few years, tyranid attacks have been increasing in this region of the galaxy,’ Zyvan said. ‘But you’d know all about that.’
‘I’ve seen a few,’ I admitted.
‘There’s a pattern,’ Mott butted in. ‘Still not clear, but definitely beginning to form.[37]
‘Our greatest fear is that they could be the harbingers of a new hive fleet,’ Amberley said soberly. I tried to envision such a thing, and shivered involuntarily. The hordes I’d encountered before had been weak, the scattered survivors of hive fleet Behemoth which had been shattered centuries before, but still dangerous shards of poison in the body of the Imperium. Even attenuated as they were, they could still overwhelm a lightly defended world, growing in strength with each one they consumed. The prospect of facing a fresh fleet with almost limitless resources was, quite simply, terrifying.
‘Then let’s pray you’re wrong,’ I said. Unfortunately, as we now know, she was right twice over, and the reality was far worse than even my craven imaginings.
‘Amen.’ Zyvan made the sign of the aquila. ‘But if she’s not, those ships and men will be needed to defend the Imperium. And it’s not just the ‘nids...’ He trailed off as Amberley shot him a venomous look. Clearly I wasn’t supposed to be let in on everything.
‘Necrons,’ I said, jumping to the obvious conclusion. I pointed out the tomb world I’d been lucky to escape from a couple of years before. ‘Not the friendliest of xenos. And cropping up more frequently of late, if these contact icons are anything to go by.’ I indicated a couple of others in the same purple script.
‘That would be pure speculation, commissar,’ Amberley said, a clear warning tone entering her voice, but Mott nodded enthusiastically.
‘A two hundred and seventy-three per cent increase in probable necron contact over the last century,’ he said. ‘Only twenty-eight per cent fully confirmed, however.’ That would be because the majority of contacts left no survivors, of course.
‘Be that as it may,’ Amberley said, ‘the fact remains that the resources we would expend fighting a war for Gravalax are likely to be needed elsewhere, and if we’re forced to use them now, we would be fatally weakened.’
‘Which still begs the question of who would be insane enough to try to provoke such a war, and what they could hope to gain by it,’ I said, eager to show I was paying attention.
‘Precisely what the inquisitor was sent here to find out,’ Zyvan assured me.
‘Not exactly.’ Amberley killed the hololith display, probably to stop me from making any more uncomfortable guesses about what might be lurking in the outer darkness. ‘Our attention was drawn to the increase in tau influence on Gravalax, and the activities of certain rogue traders who seemed to be profiting from it. I came to look into that, and assess the loyalties of the governor.’
‘That’s why you had Orelius pressuring him for trade concessions,’ I said, the coin suddenly dropping. ‘You wanted to see if he had any influence with the tau.’
‘Quite right.’ She smiled at me, like a schola tutor whose least promising pupil has just recited the entire catechism of abjuration. ‘You’re really quite astute for a soldier.’
‘And your decision?’ Zyvan asked, carefully not taking offence at the remark.
‘I’m still considering it,’ she admitted. ‘He’s certainly weak, probably corrupt, and undeniably stupid. He’s let the alien influence take root here far too deeply to be dislodged without considerable effort. But he’s no longer our primary concern.’
‘You mean the conspirators?’ I asked. ‘Whoever’s trying to provoke a war over this?’
‘Precisely.’ She nodded, favouring me with another smile, which, perhaps due to wishful thinking, looked remarkably like praise. ‘Another astute deduction on your part.’
‘Do you have any clue as to their identities?’ Zyvan asked. Amberley shook her head.
‘There’s no shortage of enemies who would stand to gain from weakening the Imperial presence in this sector,’ she said, with a warning glance at Mott, who seemed on the verge of listing them. ‘Not least the tau themselves.’ He subsided with visible disappointment. ‘But whoever it is is undoubtedly working through the xenoist faction here, and the PDF units they control. Fortunately, the Guard seem to have drawn their teeth without dragging the tau into it, for which we can all be thankful.’
Zyvan and I took the implied compliment without comment.
‘How is the investigation into the ambassador’s murder going?’ I asked. ‘If you find the assassin, you find the conspirators, don’t you?’
‘Probably.’ Amberley shook her head. ‘But so far we don’t have a suspect. The autopsy showed he was killed by an imperial bolt pistol at close range, but we already knew that, and half the guests at the party were carrying one. Our best lead is still the xenoist connection.’
‘Or it was,’ Mott chimed in with a censorial glare at me. ‘Until this young man set fire to it.’
‘I’m sorry?’ I gazed at him in confusion.
‘So you should be,’ he said, without rancour. Amberley sighed.
‘The local Arbites have been keeping tabs on the most vocal xenoist groups. One of them used to hold meetings at that warehouse, so we went to check it out.’
‘And found a bit more than you bargained for,’ I chipped in helpfully. She nodded.
‘That we did. We found a way down to the undercity.’
‘Definite surprise there,’ Mott chipped in helpfully. ‘Although given the amount of relatively new tau-influenced architecture in the city as a whole, finding one wasn’t totally unexpected.’
I suppose I must seem naive, but up until this point it had never occurred to me that there wasn’t an undercity – part and parcel of growing up in a hive, I suppose. You see, most imperial cities are millennia old, each generation building on the remains of the last, leaving a warren of service tunnels and abandoned rooms under the latest level of streets and buildings, often tens, or even hundreds, of metres thick. Mayoh, being so sparsely populated in imperial terms, didn’t have anything like so thick a layer beneath it, but I’d just taken it for granted that it was bound to have the same labyrinth of sewers and walkways below its citizens’ feet as any other urban area I was familiar with.
‘Seems like a good place to plot sedition,’ I conceded.
‘Ideal,’ Amberley agreed. ‘As we found to our cost.’
‘We were ambushed,’ Mott said, ‘though not before determining that the tunnel system is extremely extensive.’
‘Ambushed by who?’ Zyvan asked.
‘Ah. Well, that’s the question.’ Amberley cocked her head quizzically. ‘Whoever they were, they were well armed, and well trained. We barely got out alive.’
‘Tomas and Jothan didn’t,’ Mott reminded her, and her brow darkened for a moment.
‘Their sacrifice will be remembered,’ she said, in the reflex way people do when they don’t really mean it. ‘They knew the risks.’
‘More PDF defectors?’ Zyvan asked. I shook my head.
‘I don’t think so. My aide and I got a good look at several of them. They were definitely civilians.’
‘Or in civilian clothes,’ Mott suggested. ‘Not necessarily the same thing.’
‘In either case,’ Amberley said decisively, ‘we need more information. And there’s only one place we can get it.’ I began to develop a familiar sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
‘The undercity,’ Zyvan said. The inquisitor nodded.
‘Precisely. Which is why I require your assistance.’
‘Anything at all, of course.’ Zyvan spread his hands. ‘Although I don’t quite see–’
‘My retinue is out of action, lord general. And I’m not stupid enough to undertake an expedition of this nature entirely alone.’ Well, anyone could see that. ‘I’d like to request the use of some of your Guard troopers.’
‘Well, of course.’ Zyvan nodded. ‘You can hardly rely on the loyalty of the local PDF.’
‘Exactly.’ She nodded again.
‘How many do you want?’ Zyvan asked. ‘A platoon, a company?’ Amberley shook her head.
‘No. We’ll need to move fast, and light. One fire-team. And the commissar to lead them.’ She turned those dazzling eyes on me again, and smiled. ‘I’m sure a man of your formidable reputation will be up to the challenge.’
