The Ultramarines Omnibus

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The Ultramarines Omnibus Page 22

by Graham McNeill


  ‘So now the loyalty of an entire regiment of PDF troopers is in question?’

  She swore. ‘That’s nearly five thousand men.’

  Governor Shonai pondered the situation in silence before coming to a decision.

  ‘Very well, I’ll authorise the mobilisation of more regiments to contain their base until we can be sure where their loyalties lie.’

  ‘How long will that take?’ inquired Barzano, looking over at Leland Corteo.

  The old man sighed deeply and took a great draw on his pipe. ‘It’s hard to say, it’s been decades since we needed to mobilise the PDF. The last time was in the governor’s father’s time.’

  ‘Yes, but how long?’ pressed Barzano.

  ‘Perhaps two or three days. That’s if enough of the soldiers answer the muster. There’s a good chance a great many of them were in Liberation Square today.’

  ‘The Vae Victus and Captain Ventris will return in less than three days,’ added Sergeant Learchus. ‘Then you will have a company of Ultramarines at your disposal, Governor Shonai.’

  ‘Thank you, sergeant. I am most grateful for the aid provided by the Ultramarines. You do your Chapter honour.’

  Learchus bowed his head, saying, ‘We serve the Emperor.’

  Shonai took another sip of her caffeine and said, ‘So what else do we have to go on? Do we know who the town house belongs to yet?’

  ‘We do indeed,’ chimed Almerz Chanda with great relish. He produced a sheaf of papers, deeds of purchase and city records. ‘It is a summer house belonging to Taryn Honan.’

  ‘Honan?’ exclaimed Corteo, almost choking on his pipe smoke. ‘I don’t believe it! That fat fool? Surely not?’

  ‘It’s all here in black and white,’ gestured Chanda to the records.

  ‘These are irrelevant,’ put in Barzano. ‘Whoever was behind this planned it carefully. They had no intention of picking up the soldiers after they had completed their mission. I hardly think that if Honan had been behind this, he would have been stupid enough to launch his attack from one of his own houses. Though it wouldn’t hurt to bring him in to answer some questions.’

  ‘So where does that leave us?’ said Jenna Sharben.

  ‘It leaves us,’ continued Barzano, ‘with a lot of work to do.’

  KASIMIR DE VALTOS stabbed his fork through a succulent cutlet of meat and forced himself to swallow, despite the taste of sour bile in his throat.

  The meat tasted of rancid maggots and he washed it down with a drink from a crystal goblet of wine. He was reliably informed that this particular vintage was amongst the most

  sought after in the sector, but to him it was as tasteless as vinegar.

  Yet another legacy of his torture.

  But that would soon be a thing of the past. Lasko had informed him that his men would soon breach the final chamber and it had taken all of his considerable willpower not to rush off and see for himself. He felt his grip on the fork tightening convulsively and hid it from sight beneath the table.

  His guest said something trivial and banal. He smiled politely and mouthed something equally meaningless in reply. He couldn’t hear the words: a roaring sounded in his ears and a hot dryness formed in his mouth. He took another drink of wine.

  Beneath the table his fist beat a rhythmic tattoo on his thigh, the fork pricking his flesh deep enough to draw blood through his trousers. He couldn’t feel it and it was only when he raised the fork to his plate once more, that he noticed the blood.

  His breath caught in his throat at the sight of the sticky red liquid and his tongue flicked out to catch the ruby droplets as they ran from his hand.

  His guest said something else, but the words were lost to him as he tasted his blood.

  He could not feel the pain in his leg. He could feel no pain at all.

  De Valtos felt his gaze being drawn towards the dining hall’s ceiling, picturing the black leather case sitting beneath his bed, but he forced himself to look away.

  It was too soon.

  It was always that much sweeter when savoured. He forced his mind clear of blades, saws, pliers and barbed hooks, attempting to focus his attention on his guest. But it was impossible to concentrate on the mindless babble that spewed from its rouged lips. Sweat poured down his face as he forced another lump of meat down his throat.

  He didn’t think he could wait much longer to kill it.

  He realised he no longer thought of his guest as human, and that was a bad sign. The hunger was growing in him and he pictured it naked. It was just meat, flesh to be carved, a cathartic release for the pain he could no longer feel.

  To feel that pain again, he would inflict suffering and misery on its body, feeling his own pain echo its cries.

  Blood dribbled down his chin and he realised he had bitten down hard on his lip. He wiped his chin as his guest pushed back its chair and walked down the length of the table towards him, false concern written across its bovine features.

  It put its hand on his shoulder and he recoiled in horror at its touch.

  ‘Are you feeling alright, Kasimir? You look awfully pale,’ asked Solana Vergen.

  Kasimir de Valtos swallowed, holding back his disgust and fury.

  ‘Yes,’ he managed, thinking of the black case. ‘I will be.’

  TWELVE

  IT WAS INCREDIBLE, thought Mine Overseer Jakob Lasko. No matter how much juice they put through this damn cutter, it never, ever, got above half power. They were burning out generators at the rate of five or six a day and though the cost implications still rankled, he knew he had no choice but to replace each one as it failed. They had to breach this last barrier soon.

  The chamber throbbed with the whine of the cutter and he was thankful for the ear protectors he wore. Not only did they make the shriek of the cutter bearable, but it also shut out the weird noise he’d been hearing recently. In his more fanciful moments – which weren’t many – he could almost swear he could make out babbling voices amongst the noise, subtly layered and overlapping.

  Damn, but he had been down in this bizarre place too long!

  He cast his professional eye around the chamber. It was absolutely square, its proportions perfect to the last micron, or so his cartographers had told him. The walls were covered in a tight, angular script, etched into the smooth surface in triangular groups. What it said or meant was a mystery to him.

  The only breaks in the script were four featureless alcoves, two on the east wall, two on the west. Each contained a giant, well-proportioned alabaster figure gripping a strange copper staff, edged with a patina of green oxide. What they were or who they were supposed to represent was yet another mystery he left to others.

  All that concerned Jakob Lasko was breaching the door at the far end of the chamber.

  So far the smooth black slab had resisted diamond-tipped drills and breaching charges. Only the lascutter had any effect, and this was making headway at the slowest pace.

  Two tech-priests prayed and swung incense censers over the cutter alongside six miners armed with picks and shovels who looked like they’d rather be any place but here. Things had got so bad recently that none of the men were willing to go anywhere on their own. He couldn’t blame them: the darkness and spook stories that had been spreading over the last few years about this place would give anyone second thoughts. But that was no excuse for the kind of worker turnover he was seeing here. The money was a lot better than a man would get any place else, so he figured that if a man signed on, he’d damn well better do his job properly.

  Sure, there had been a few disappearances over the years, most recently that damn fool Dal Kolurst. Stupid idiot probably fell down a shaft in the dark. They may know about machines, these tech-priests, but they know damn all about real work. So far, they hadn’t found Kolurst’s body, but it was just a matter of time before someone tripped over his broken corpse.

  He looked up as the lights flickered again and snapped an angry glance over at the chanting priests. The light was bad en
ough in here as it was without being plunged into total darkness.

  The gem-smooth eyes of the statues in the alcoves glittered in the flickering light, and Lasko shivered despite himself. Yes, he decided, the money was good, but he’d be lying to himself if he claimed he wouldn’t be damn glad when this job was over and he could get back to proper mining.

  This archaeology might pay better money, but it didn’t sit right on his worker’s soul to put in so much work without seeing something tangible for your efforts. What had they hauled out of this place so far? Nothing but a few skeletal figures made of some weird, greenish metal.

  The tech-priests had got all excited about them, but none of them had been able to tell him what they were or what kind of metal it was. Some experts they were.

  Well, looking at the work at the door, he could see that the cutter had penetrated perhaps a metre. According to the tech-priests, there couldn’t be too much more to go through, but Lasko would wait until they were through before breaking out the fifty year old uskavar. As rich as the boss was, Lasko didn’t think he’d be willing to shell out for too many more generators and cutters. This operation must have cost a fortune already.

  The lights flickered again, plunging them all into darkness for long seconds until, with a dull hum, the light swelled from the glow-globes once more.

  Lasko was more relieved than he cared to admit and licked his dry lips.

  What the hell could be behind this door that was so damned important?

  He just hoped he got to find out soon.

  THIRTEEN

  TARYN HONAN STEPPED into the vestibule of Kasimir de Valtos’s home and glanced through the open door that led to the dining hall. Broken crockery and fine crystal littered the floor at one end of the table. Such a shame to see such fine workmanship so thoughtlessly destroyed.

  He tore his attention away from the dining hall as he noticed a lady’s pelisse hung on a hook beside the front door. He licked his rouged lips and lifted the edge of the garment to his face, inhaling its sweet-scented aroma. Ah yes, he recognised this perfume as belonging to the lovely Solana. Was she here also, he wondered? Strange, he hadn’t seen her carriage when he arrived.

  A cough sounded from the stairs and he spun, dropping the pelisse, blushing in guilty surprise.

  Kasimir de Valtos and Vendare Taloun stood on the landing watching him. Honan shuffled into the middle of the vestibule and cleared his throat as the two cartel leaders descended to meet him. He noticed that Kasimir looked flushed and in good sorts, whereas Vendare was chalk-white, as though he’d just had a profound shock.

  “What are you doing here?’ demanded Kasimir and Taryn flinched at the hostility in his voice. ‘I told you not to come, remember?’

  ‘Y-y-yes,’ stammered Taryn, ‘but I had to see you. I was summoned to the palace this morning, by the governor. The questions they asked me! I mean it was quite beyond the pale. All sorts of things. They—’

  Taryn, slow down,’ ordered Kasimir, putting his arm around Taryn’s ample shoulders. ‘Come, let us have a seat in the drawing room before the fire and discuss this like civilised men, yes?’

  Taryn nodded gratefully and allowed himself to be guided through the door opposite the dining hall.

  As promised, a large fire was blazing and Taryn settled himself into a high backed leather chair as de Valtos poured three generous measures of uskavar from a bottle on an expansive drinks tray. Taloun walked quickly towards Kasimir and downed his drink in a single swallow. The two cartel leaders exchanged a hurried conversation in whispers then Kasimir sat down opposite Taryn, handing him a crystal class of amber spirit. Vendare remained standing by the drinks tray, pouring himself another drink.

  ‘Now, Taryn. You were saying?’

  He sipped his drink before beginning, to calm himself.

  ‘Yes, it’s a bad business when an influential cartel leader like myself is treated like a common criminal by a member of the Administratum. That new adept, Barzano, hounded me with all sorts of questions about my town house, you know, the one I loaned you for a time?’

  Kasimir nodded, chewing on his bottom lip and Taryn noticed he seemed to be suffering from the heat of the fire, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

  ‘Are you alright, Kasimir?’ asked Taryn.

  ‘Far from it,’ snorted Vendare, pouring himself another drink.

  Kasimir shot him a vicious glance and nodded, saying, ‘Please continue, Taryn. Do not concern yourself with Barzano, he will not be a problem for much longer. But what did he want to know?’

  ‘Well, he claimed that the Church of Ancient Ways had used my town house to launch another of their despicable attacks. Can you imagine? From my house? Ridiculous, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not really, Taryn,’ brayed Kasimir with an edge of hysteria to his humourless laugh. You see it’s true. All of it. You’re just too stupid to understand.’

  Taryn opened his mouth to protest, but Kasimir cut him off.

  ‘You have no idea what’s happening on this planet, do you? Events are moving in a manner decided by me. Me! I have invested too much, lost too much, to have things messed up by a globulous waste of space like you, Taryn.’

  Tears swelled in Taryn Honan’s eyes at this unwarranted attack.

  ‘Come, Kasimir, surely there’s no need to say such things? We are friends after all. Aren’t we?’

  ‘Friends?’ mocked Kasimir de Valtos. ‘No, Taryn, we are not friends. You are just a pathetic piece of filth I stepped on my route to immortality. And now it’s time I discarded you.’

  Taryn heard the sound of a door opening behind him. Kasimir raised his eyes to smile at the newcomer, but there was no warmth in the expression. Taryn desperately looked over to Vendare Taloun for support. Surely his dear friend Vendare would not allow Kasimir to talk to him in this way, would he?

  But Vendare Taloun was staring open-mouthed in horror at the person who had entered the room. Taryn heard the sound of soft footfalls approaching the back of his chair, and a pale, delicately veined hand slipped onto his shoulder.

  The nails of the long, thin fingers were sharp and painted black. A strong smell of disinfectant wafted from the hand.

  Taryn swallowed in fear.

  ‘Kasimir? What’s going on?’ he whimpered.

  He twisted his bulk around in the chair to see a tall, slender figure dressed in a plain red smock and surgical mask. Only his eyes were visible above the mask and they were the deepest shade of violet. The figure’s other hand slipped onto his neck, stretching his skin taut and despite his fear, Taryn felt his skin goosebump under the soft touch.

  Kasimir de Valtos sat back in his chair and sipped his drink.

  Taryn was about to speak when he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his throat as a massive needle slid into his neck. He winced, but instantly the pain was gone, replaced by a warm, floating sensation that infused his body, and his eyes drooped, suddenly feeling absurdly heavy. Kasimir was speaking and he had to concentrate to make out the words.

  ‘Taryn, this is my surgeon. I think you and he should get to know one another better, don’t you?’

  Taryn Honan smiled and nodded dreamily as the fast-acting soporific raced through his metabolism.

  The glass of uskavar slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor.

  BARZANO LEFT THE interrogation chamber, where Ortega and Sharben were interrogating the girl Learchus had rescued from the murderous judges. Governor Mykola Shonai, Almerz Chanda and Leland Corteo stood before the window to the interrogation chamber, watching the judges work. Shonai’s face was granite hard, but Chanda and Corteo looked distinctly queasy at the violence they were seeing.

  ‘Does she know anything?’ asked Shonai.

  ‘I don’t think so. Nothing useful anyway. She’ll give us some names and we can round them up, but she’s too small a fish to know anything of real value.’

  ‘So why all this… unpleasantness?’ enquired Chanda, waving his hand at the dejected figure thr
ough the glass.

  ‘Because you never know under which rock you’ll find the pieces of the puzzle, my dear Almerz.’

  Chanda frowned at Barzano’s over familiarity and looked away.

  ‘She was on the statue,’ said Mykola Shonai. ‘She’s one of the ringleaders. She must know something.’

  ‘Possibly,’ admitted Barzano. ‘She’s hard-core militant. She won’t break easily.’

  ‘Do what you have to do to break her,’ ordered Shonai. ‘I don’t care how, just find out who was behind this so I can make them pay.’

  ‘Oh we’ll find out who did this, I guarantee it,’ promised Barzano. ‘I believe that one of your rivals has been very clever and very subtle, using cut-outs and cells of activists to make sure that we can’t just unravel their treachery with one arrest. I know how these things work. Nothing will have been written down, no record will have been made, but everyone in the loop knows about it. I should imagine that once a few events were put in motion, the demonstration took on a life of its own and required very little in the way of orchestration to get it started.’

  Shonai nodded. ‘All it needed was a spark to light it,’ she said.

  ‘Just so. Ably provided by Captain Vedden, curse his soul.’

  ‘Is he conscious yet? Can we question him?’

  ‘Not yet, no, but your physician believes we will be able to later today, though he wasn’t at all happy about letting us talk to him so soon.’

  ‘Damn him and his concerns, I want that bastard broken in half. We’re close, Ario, I can feel it.’

  ‘Come on,’ he suggested, ‘I could use a drink. Any takers?’

  Shonai shot Barzano a hard look, but her grim expression softened and she nodded.

  ‘Yes, why not?’

  Corteo chuckled. ‘Well, I’ve always said that it is bad luck to let a man drink on his own, so yes, I’ll join you.’

  ‘Almerz?’ asked the governor.

  The governor’s chief advisor shook his head. ‘Thank you for the offer, governor, but I shall stay here, just in case the judges learn something of value that needs to come to your immediate attention.’

 

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