by Guy Haley
He threw himself across the corridor. A bullet shaved his cheek. Tensat returned fire before he hit the opposite wall. Again, tracks of las light streaked his vision. He hit the wall, let himself bounce from it and fall down, dropping into cover at the foot of the fan of rubble. He kept his gun trained down the corridor. His heart hammered louder than ever. If the woman had a grenade, he was dead.
His vox-beads crackled. The ghost of the procurator’s voice hissed at him, but his words were unintelligible. The rockcrete there must have been thick to block Mechanicum comms. He’d gone deeper than he’d realised.
After four minutes of lying in the dirt he had had enough and got up.
Nobody shot him.
Tensat stepped over the rubble. A dark shape lay in the dimness ahead where the corridor opened out into a wide pipe. A heavy door had once closed the corridor off from the pipe, but only the surround was still in place. The control panel to operate it was a rusty hole sprouting wires which dust had turned all the same colour.
The woman lay in the intersection. A line of smoke spiralled from a wound in her chest. He’d hit her right in the heart.
‘Don’t move,’ he said, just in case. He kicked her foot. All signs of life had fled.
‘I’ve got our assassin,’ he voxed. A broken jag of words blurted back at him. ‘Procurator?’
He bent down to rifle through her pockets. Nothing. No identification. He had a suspicion her citizen ident tattoos would be missing or faked.
‘A ghost,’ he said. ‘Who are you working for?’
‘Me,’ said a voice from the shadows. The muzzle of a pistol, cool in the warm environs of the undercity, pressed against Tensat’s temple. ‘Drop your weapon. No one need die, least of all you.’
Tensat raised his hands slowly. He let his gun go. It swung around the trigger guard, and fell to the floor. A foot kicked it away. Tensat strained his eyes sideways, but could not see who had him. There was a hand holding the gun, white from subterranean living. It was large. The rest of the man was lost in the dark.
‘I’m not alone,’ warned Tensat. ‘Others are coming.’
‘I’m counting on it,’ said the man. ‘You are very brave, coming down here on your own. Do you feel you have done your duty, enforcer?’
Tensat pulled a face.
‘When a killer who lurks in the dark engages with you like this, it’s never for the sake of a chat,’ he said.
‘Really,’ said the man. The gun pushed ever so slightly harder against Tensat’s head. He felt the metal rub against the bone of his skull through the thin skin of his temple.
‘Yes, really,’ said Tensat. ‘The usual reason for this kind of speech from someone like you is to gloat, and to exert power before you kill. Hope and despair season the meat of murder. This is your prelude. You can save it for someone who gives a damn.’
‘You think I’m going to kill you?’
‘I’d say it was the most likely outcome,’ said Tensat, surprised at how little he feared death. ‘Maybe I’ll get a posthumous medal.’
‘Whereas you are playing for time,’ said the man.
‘I am,’ said Tensat. ‘You can’t blame me, even though in a lot of these situations, it doesn’t do any good.’
‘Perhaps it has in yours,’ said the man.
Legionaries appeared from both directions of the drainage pipe, Belthann at their head. Their size alone should have made their approach obvious but they had contrived to approach unobserved, even in their hulking war-plate. Cynical though he was, Tensat couldn’t help but be impressed.
‘Hello, Belthann,’ said the voice.
A dozen guns trained on the speaker’s location to the side of Tensat. He had almost enough faith in the prowess of the Legiones Astartes that they could gun the man down and not him.
‘Do you remember me?’ said the man.
‘Errin,’ said Belthann. ‘I remember you. Let the enforcer go.’
‘You do recognise me.’ Errin was genuinely pleased. ‘I thought you might not, although we fought together for long enough.’ He withdrew his gun from Tensat’s head. ‘Go on, enforcer. I have no need of you now. You were wrong, just remember that. I did not wish to kill you.’
Tensat rubbed his head and walked over to Belthann. A residue of weapons oil clung to his face. ‘You know him?’ he asked. He peered down the pipe. He still couldn’t see his captor, although he was fairly sure he was looking right at him.
Belthann sounded inhuman behind the hard lines of his helmet. ‘He was a friend of mine once, a long time ago. Come out Errin. There’s nowhere to run.’
‘Who says I want to run?’ The shadows breathed, and out stepped a tall man who smiled at Belthann warmly. In the heat of the undercity he wore a short-sleeved tunic, revealing arms swollen with stimulated muscle growth. Despite his physical presence, he was nothing compared to the legionaries. He was sixty years old at least, and he looked it, the scuffs and wear of hard living adding to his age. His thinning hair was shaved down to a grey stubble. Crow’s feet clawed at the corners of his eyes. Scars upon his face spoke of old wars.
Errin’s smile was a sick expression, half predatory, half desperate. ‘The years have been kinder to you than I,’ he said.
‘You are behind all this?’ said Belthann.
‘I am.’ He held out his arms, wrists together. ‘I am the Children of Deliverance. I have murdered a dozen guilders. I planned the bombing of the Saviour’s Day parade. I ordered the assassination of the guild representative. I confess to all of these crimes, Belthann.’ He smiled again. ‘You better arrest me.’
Twenty
old friends
The reduced Twenty-Seventh Expeditionary Fleet returned to Kiavhar under Corax’s command. Without celebration, its ships put in to the planet’s docking facilities. The vessels were marked by hard fighting. Their numbers were depleted, and the regiments ferried aboard the transports accompanying them had many holes in their ranks. Senior strategos reckoned eighty-seven thousand lives lost as the price for Corax’s vengeance. It was said, openly and angrily in some quarters, that the primarch had neglected his duty.
There were rumours about the action at Carinae, but they did not go far. The Terran authorities regarded Corax’s decisions during the compliance regrettable enough to hush up. No remembrancer reports were released beyond the blandest data recording the integration of the Sodality into the Imperium. The regiments sent to garrison the Thousand Cities were told little about their taking. The lack of news was not unusual. The Raven Guard often operated in the shadows. Corvus Corax did not care much for recognition – for him the doing of the task was reward enough – but in this case the silence surrounding the campaign was generated purposefully.
Primarchs should not be seen to make mistakes.
Corax sank into pensiveness and spoke little to his sons. Only the brothers Agapito and Branne Nev attempted to discuss the recent compliance, until Corax called them into his personal chambers in the Ravenspire, and they came out subdued. After that, they let him be.
The Emperor undoubtedly knew of His son’s behaviour. What He thought of it, none could guess.
The lifter hummed rapidly down through multiple levels of the Raven Guard fortress. Deliverance was small, its mass low, but after the feather touch of the Thousand Moons’ gravity, Corax felt weighed down by his own being.
Frictionless wheels whirred a deepening song. Magnetic brakes slowed the lifter. The utilitarian screen displayed a low number. They were not far from the Red Level, the place where in blacker times the wardens of Lycaeus had tormented their prisoners. Corax looked at the back of Belthann’s head. He wondered a moment if his sons were wayward enough to employ that dread floor of the Ravenspire against his ban, but the lift slowed to stop five levels above, and the doors opened.
‘He is this way, my lord,’ said Belthann.
‘He allowed his capture,’ said Corax.
‘He did.’ Belthann thought a moment before continuing, unsure of Corax’s mood. ‘My lord, may I speak openly with you?’
‘Any of my sons might,’ said Corax flatly.
Belthann was not sure if that meant it was safe to proceed or not. He decided he should. ‘You are giving Errin what he wants, my lord. He has been waiting these last two months to speak with you.’
‘I am,’ said Corax. ‘But anyone who fought at my side during the deliverance of Lycaeus should be able to speak with me. I owe him that much, before I execute him.’
Belthann stopped, surprising Corax. ‘Do you owe him anything? He killed to secure an opportunity to speak with you. He jeopardised the peace on Kiavahr, for what? Vanity?’
Corax gave Belthann a hard, avian stare. ‘Perhaps that is why I should speak with him. To find out why he did what he did.’
‘My lord,’ said Belthann. ‘He has told me some of his reasoning. My brother Shadow Wardens think he has lost his mind.’
‘Do you?’ asked Corax.
‘I do not,’ admitted Belthann.
‘Then why are you challenging my decision?’
‘Because, my lord, I fear you are going to try to justify yourself to him.’
‘And what concern is it of yours if I do?’ said Corax.
Belthann looked up to his gene-father with a boldness Corax admired. ‘You are my father and my saviour, my lord. You do not have to justify yourself to anybody.’
Corax stared at Belthann for several seconds.
‘I do what I must, sergeant, not what I please. Take me to the prisoner, then leave me. I wish to speak with him alone.’
The cell was the sole room with power on the floor. Little Legion activity took place around the Red Level. The air was consequently stale with a backtaste of oil and the lumens flickered from long inactivity. Corax had little need of cells and less liking for them. He had devised other punishments for miscreants. Those who broke his laws must serve, or die, so Errin was all alone.
‘Corax,’ Errin said, rising from his chair when the primarch entered the cell. The chains binding his wrists and ankles rattled as he lifted them to show. ‘Overkill, don’t you think? When this was a prison, I escaped it, but now it is a legionary fortress I doubt I could.’
‘Errin,’ said Corax. The traitor reflected in his jet-black eyes. Errin smiled, as if they were sharing a secret.
‘It is good to see you, Corvus,’ he said. ‘Tell me, how are the Nev boys? How is Ephrenia?’
‘They are well, though ashamed to hear of what you have done.’ Corax surveyed Errin. He had become a fanatic, but he was not mad.
‘I thank you for seeing me.’
‘There were so many people who fought for me against the overseers of Lycaeus,’ said Corax emotionlessly. ‘Do you think I have time to speak with them all? Tell me why you did what you did. I have greater matters than your fate to deal with.’
‘Then why did you come at all?’
‘I am curious,’ said Corax. ‘We fought on the same side to bring peace to this moon and its mother planet, and yet you jeopardise that. Is it bitterness, because you were too old for implantation? I do not value your efforts in the liberation any less for you not becoming a legionary. You could have lived out your life in honour.’
‘You think this is about power? You think this is about me not becoming one of your so-called sons?’ Errin laughed hard. ‘I don’t want the power offered by the Emperor!’ he said.
‘Becoming a member of the Legion is a responsibility, not a gift of power,’ said Corax.
‘If you say so,’ shrugged Errin. ‘Do you honestly think all men made into legionaries feel that way? Do you not think some of them exult in their strength?’
‘Most understand that it is a responsibility,’ he said. ‘Those that abuse their gifts are judged and treated accordingly.’
Errin sat upon the hard fold-out bunk that was the only feature of the room. His chains rattled after him.
‘Well,’ he smiled, and pointed a finger, ‘they are not the only ones with responsibilities. I’ve been doing all this for you.’
‘Is that so,’ said Corax.
‘You left the job here half-done, Corvus Corax. The guilds are in power still, the people suffer like they always did. I wanted you to see.’
‘The people are free,’ said Corax. ‘You are wrong.’
‘They are free to suffer,’ said Errin. ‘You abandoned us, Corax. The Emperor doesn’t care for men. Our struggle here didn’t matter to Him. If it did, why did He give our world to the Mechanicum? We’ve got nothing in common with them. Their religion is offensive to good sense. Worshipping machines!’ He let his derision show.
‘The Emperor has a plan beyond either of us,’ said Corax. ‘I have seen only part of it. I assure you all will be well. Mankind will regain its rightful rulership of the stars.’
Errin shook his head. ‘Corax, Corax. The Emperor is a tyrant. The position of the Mechanicum here is His hypocrisy in plain view! Promulgating this Imperial Truth from one side of His mouth, blessing the superstitions of the Martians from the other.’ He looked pityingly at Corax. ‘You’ve been duped, the one man we thought was beyond all domination of will or body. You’re a disappointment.’
‘You have no idea what is at stake.’ Corax stared at him impassively. ‘No idea at all. There are forces at work in this universe that defy language to describe. I cannot govern here as people wish. I cannot be here for the people. They suffer. I know. But human beings suffer everywhere. There are worlds where the worst possible things you can imagine happen as a matter of course, things that make the horrors of the Red Level seem mundane and kind. I cannot be here to adjust the lives of the people minutely. I have billions to save.’
‘So you have abandoned the fight,’ said Errin.
‘I fight the same fight, on a far bigger scale,’ said Corax.
‘What of justice?’
‘Justice takes a long time to build, but it will come.’
‘You’re wrong. Justice cannot be compromised. You can’t live by half principles, Corax. What is true in one place is true in all places, at all times. It cannot be one way here and another there. You are vengeful when it suits you, yet you let our tormentors live.’
‘I am vengeful. I was vengeful at Carinae and castigated for it. Justice will prevail, but at this time, vengeance would not suit here,’ said Corax. ‘I have set aside vengeance against the tech-guilds. They have their part to play in the Imperium. This world will thrive, in time. All worlds will. A golden age is coming, but first we have to fight for it.’
‘So justice is on hold?’
‘Every world taken in the name of the Great Crusade is a step towards fairness for all.’
‘What of every death of every hungry child here at Kiavahr? Is that not an injustice? Every man of Deliverance turned away from work, every act of corruption. Are these not crimes?’
Corax sighed. He had had similar discussions with himself. ‘Sometimes we must sacrifice our personal feelings, the betterment of our own lives, for the common good. The sacrifices I ask of others are no greater than those I undertake. I face a lifetime of war. Do you think I wish to live a killer? Every battle I fight sees my sons die. I have expunged civilisations for the sake of the greater community of man. And now I face betrayal from old comrades at my home while I battle for the fate of our species! You see yourself as righteous. You are an irritation. Parochial. Your vision is too narrow to see the breadth of what the Emperor wants to achieve.’
‘Justice has no half measures!’ said Errin. ‘If you style yourself as the bringer of justice, you cannot apply it as you will. You are either its unshakeable champion, or you are politician like all the other parasites sucking away the lives of the people you profess care for. There are a million
worse places to be than Kiavahr. But that does not excuse the half job you did here. There are wounds here that run deep and will never heal. Best excise the damaged limb completely. If you do not, then one day there shall be a reckoning. The Mechanicum are jealous of the tech-guilds’ secrets. The tech-guilds resent the Mechanicum. The Kiavahrans smart from their loss of power, and still the Lycaeans suffer.’
‘Then they must suffer!’ Corax said harshly. ‘You do not understand. You cannot comprehend how complicated the reality of this is. For the time being, the situation here must remain as it is.’
‘Corax, I do understand. I understand very well.’ Errin’s smile hardened. ‘You were a free man once. You taught us to deny tyranny, and then you willingly submitted yourself to a tyrant. All those political theorists to teach you, and still you left them to this.’
‘Vengeance has its place, but justice is everything,’ said Corax. ‘Even then, compromises must be made. The good of mankind is paramount.’
The man and the primarch stared at each other.
Errin shrugged. ‘I have said what I needed to say. I have done what I needed to do. Kiavahr is destabilised. You will have to act.’
‘I will not,’ said Corax. ‘The Mechanicum will resolve it. This is no concern of mine. You wasted lives for nothing, Errin. You have wasted yourself.’
Corax gave him a last, long stare before he ducked out of the door.
‘You will kill me, I assume?’ said Errin after him.
‘I will,’ said Corax, pausing outside the cell. ‘For you have betrayed me personally, and that I cannot forgive. I show the tech-guilds mercy, I will show you mercy also. You will die quietly and quickly, and bring no further shame upon yourself.’
‘You are not worthy of my loyalty. You are consumed by violence, and given to fickleness. You mete out vengeance when you decide, and avoid justice where it counts.’
‘I do the Emperor’s bidding,’ said Corax. His black eyes widened fiercely. ‘Whatever that may be.’
‘One day!’ Errin began shouting. ‘One day you will see, Corvus Corax. You are wrong! You cannot stay in the shadows forever.’