Warhammer 40K - Farseer

by William King

  The command deck of the Star of Venam was huge. A massive armoured crystal window gave a view of the long hull of the ship stretching ahead of them. All around officers and starsailors went about their duties. Janus lounged back into the command chair and glanced over at Simon.

  'We've cleared with starport, customs and the Inquisition,' said the Navigator. 'All hatches are sealed. We're ready to slip moorings.'

  'Go to it, Navigator,' said Janus. 'The helm is yours.'

  Simon turned and spoke into one of the vox-tubes. The ship rocked gently as the umbilicals connecting it to the starport loosened. There was a faint sense of acceleration as the lateral jets pushed them clear. Momentarily Janus felt weightless before the ship's own gravity kicked in. Janus studied the small screen that had deployed from the arm of his command chair. It showed a sensor map of surrounding space. They were a lighter dot against the green. The massive bolt of pulsing light was Medusa Starport. Other small dots of paler green were Imperial ships.

  Tired and drained as he felt, Janus kept his position. It was a captain's duty to be on the command deck when his ship slipped moorings, and he was not going to be remiss. Besides, this was a moment he had always loved, and had done ever since he first set foot on a starship. Setting off always felt like an adventure, there was no telling what you would see or do, no telling if you would even survive the journey, warp travel being so dangerous. And still there was something about it to make the heart beat faster and lift the spirits no matter how gloomy you felt.

  Janus felt a thin smile play on his lips as he looked up and surveyed the hub of his domain. Tech-adepts stood before banks of command altars, chanting the praises of machine spirits as they communed with their engines. Chief Tech-Adept Ruark strode among them, swinging his censer and lifting his voice whenever the chant faltered.

  Simon Belisarius stood on the raised and sanctified circular dais that only a Navigator was allowed to occupy. Glittering copper cables flowed from the intricate machinery of the ancients to the interface circlet on his forehead. He stood with his hands clutching the gargoyled brass guardrail taking the feeds from the datacores directly into his mind, and sorting it in ways that only a Navigator could understand. The helmsman stood beside the two enormous metallic wheels, one directly in front of him, and one set off to the side. Two more copper datafeeds ran directly into the sockets on his forehead. He made small adjustments to the ship's course as Simon gave commands.

  Janus glanced back over his shoulder and gazed out of the rear observation window of the command deck. Already the enormous, weapon bristling structure of the starport was slipping away behind them. He watched it dwindle from an enormous spoked and spinning wheel to just one more light glittering among the backdrop of stars.

  Below it the great shining face of Medusa dominated the sky, all greenish toxic clouds and dark brown polluted sludge seas. As the ship gained speed it too began to shrink and more and more of it came into view. Well, thought the rogue trader, we're on our way.

  As soon as Simon reeled off the coordinates of the transition point and Janus was certain it was safe to turn over command of the ship to the helmsman, he said, 'Navigator Belisarius. I wish to speak with you in my cabin.'

  'Aye, captain. Mr Banes, the helm is yours.' Simon Belisarius disengaged himself from the command chair. He looked directly at the rogue trader.

  'A word, Janus,' he said, his tone of voice very cold. 'In private.'

  'Well?' said Simon Belisarius interrogatively.

  'Very well,' replied Janus Darke evasively. The Navigator smiled cynically and stroked his small moustache.

  'That is not what I meant, and you know it,' said Simon.

  Janus looked around his small cabin for reassurance. It was as much a home as he had ever had since he left Crowe's World all those years ago. If truth be told, he had probably spent more time here than in the huge mansion he had once owned on Medusa. He was glad that he had left most of his favourite possessions here. There were some things he would have hated to have left behind.

  On the wall was an ork battle banner, all garish colours and primitive symbols. Beneath it, fixed to the bulkhead, were a crossed chainsword and bolter that he had taken from the dead hands of a warboss. They had the heavy, primitive yet utilitarian look of all ork technology. Janus got up from the chair and poured himself some dreamwine.

  'Are you sure you want that?' asked Simon. You look like hell.'

  'I thought you were a Navigator, not an apothecary,' said Janus sourly.

  'I am also your business partner,' said Simon. 'What is going on, Janus?'

  Janus was not sure he would ever be ready to tell the Navigator, even if Simon was the closest thing to a friend he had ever had. 'Good question,' he countered. 'You tell me.'

  'I don't suppose your friend the Lady Athenys shared any secrets with you before she brought you back—like where we are going, for instance?'

  'They haven't told you?' Janus asked astonished.

  'Belial IV,' said Simon. His voice showed he fully understood the import of that particular destination.

  'If you don't like it, why did you agree to come? I take it you have agreed?'

  Simon looked as if he was considering something. He fell silent for a moment and stared deeply into his glass as if he might divine some dark secret there.

  Janus helped himself to more wine and swigged it back before pouring another glass and sinking back into his chair.

  'They offered me a huge amount of money.'

  'It would have to be bloody huge to convince you to go into the Eye of Terror.'

  Simon's glass fell from his nerveless fingers. The wine formed a dark puddle on the white fur rug, the pelt of a stormbear from Winterhome.

  Janus looked at him in astonishment. 'What else have they told you?' he asked.

  'They told me nothing.'

  'And yet you still agreed to carry them. Come on, Navigator, I was not born yesterday. They must have done something to make you agree to this trip. You swore you'd never break another interdict after Typhon.'

  'It's not that simple, Janus.'

  'It never is, is it?'

  'I have obligations to my House.'

  'And you don't have any to me?'

  'You're the one keeping secrets here!'

  Guilt made Janus answer more angrily than he would have liked. He was tired and ill and he still felt drained by the events of the past twenty-four hours. Not even being in his own cabin and the reassuring feel of the Star's decks beneath his feet could rid him of the fatigue. 'What do you mean by that?'

  'Come on, Janus, what is there that you are not telling me?'

  'Nothing.'

  'Really. You vanish mysteriously in Medusa, and show up looking like you've carved your way across a battlefield with an eldar princess in tow-'

  'Is that what she is?'

  'You order us off-planet as if the hounds of hell are on our tail, and now you're being as evasive as a dockside trader trying to sell a litter of vamphound whelps? What is going on?'

  'More than meets the eye, obviously,' said Janus, trying to defuse the situation with humour.

  'Don't try and wriggle out of it. Tell me what you know about these eldar, and where they want us to go.'

  'Belial IV. The Eye of Terror. You already know that!'

  'But why?'

  'Are you going to refuse to take us there, Navigator? The place is under Imperial interdict, after all. If you won't do it, jump us close enough and I'll take the Star in. If it's only a short range hop, I can plot the course myself.'

  Simon's shock kept him from speaking for a moment, then his words came out mechanically. 'You could never do it. The Eye is not like any other place. It is surrounded by warp storms, time rips, chronal vortices and undertows. The warp streams are turbulent, and there are all manner of cross-currents. Only the Cadian Gate is navigable with anything like regularity, and that infrequently. I am a full-bonded Navigator of a most ancient bloodline, and I doubt my own a
bility to find a safe channel through. There is no way an ancestral could do so.'

  Janus could tell Simon was serious. He really did not have much faith in his own ability to find a way into the Eye, and none whatsoever in somebody who lacked his training. 'So you won't do it? You're going to tell our passengers it's impossible.'

  Simon slowly shook his head. 'I must do it.'

  'Must?'

  'There is a debt between my House and the eldar that I must repay. That is all I can tell you. Do not press me further on this.'

  Janus shrugged. 'To tell the truth, I was rather hoping you would refuse. I no more want to see the inside of the Eye of Terror than you do.'

  Simon smiled wryly. 'You are still captain here, Janus. I am the Navigator. Until we begin our approach run to the immaterium, you are in command. If you do not wish to do this, do not. I will find another ship and take the eldar that way.'

  Janus let out a low whistle. 'You are serious. That must be quite a debt you people owe the eldar.'

  'I am not at liberty to speak more of it, Janus. Do not ask me to. And do not try to trap me with words either. I will simply leave.'

  Thinking of his own secrets, Janus said, 'It's your debt. If you wish I will forget the matter.'

  'Thank you. But do not forget the matter. Remain wary and alert. This will be a very dangerous trip if you choose to make it.'

  'I will make it.'

  'Again I find myself asking—why?' Janus considered his response for a long moment. Why did he want to make this trip? In part because the eldar had hinted that they could help him, in part because he owed them a debt of honour, in part because really he had nowhere else to go. If someone had wanted to devise a trap to push him into doing the eldar's will, they could not have designed it better. Was it possible the xenogens were so devious? He dismissed the thought at once but still the words came almost unbidden from his lips.

  'Because I suspect our guests would not let me do otherwise.'

  'I still would like to know what it is they want,' said Simon Belisarius.

  'Then let us go and ask them,' said Janus, heading towards the door.

  'You do it,' said Simon. 'I must plot our course.'

  'What?' Janus could not believe that the Navigator was shirking from confronting the eldar, though he was glad of it. He did not want Simon finding out about the voices. Perhaps Simon sensed this. Navigators were very good about such things.

  'I am in no position to question them,' said Simon. 'It would violate the terms of our agreement.'

  'But you're going to encourage me to do it,' said Janus. 'You are a cunning bastard.'

  'Not as cunning as they are. Have no doubts on that score.'

  Janus tapped on the door of the cabin assigned to the eldar. It was one of the largest of the guest suites, normally reserved only for the most important visitors. No matter how much the crew disliked having xenogens on board, it seemed like Stiel had decided they were personages of importance. Of course, he had given them chambers that were monitored by many discrete security devices. Doubtless, he wanted to eavesdrop on whatever they said. Janus would not be surprised to learn that Stiel spoke eldar. The man was full of surprises. If he did not, then Simon certainly did.

  'Enter, human,' said Athenys's voice. The door slid open and Janus strode inside.

  Already the eldar had started to make the suite their own. Strange silken banners hung from the walls, covered in intricate woven patterns that somehow hurt the eye. The chairs had been removed to be replaced by cushions. A large rug had been unrolled on the centre of the floor. Auric sat there cross-legged, dragging on a hookah. Athenys reclined on a cushion, her attention effortlessly taking in the whole room. Both of them wore loose fitting robes of black trimmed with white. A circlet of strange gems hung from Auric's neck. Athenys wore a weapon harness that looked as elegant as a courtesan's dress jewellery. The weapons might have been ornaments as much as implements of destruction.

  'Greetings, Captain Darke,' said Auric. 'May Isha grant you many blessings.'

  'What is going on?' asked Janus abruptly. He still felt tired and ill, and whatever strange weed the eldar was smoking was making his nostrils burn and his skin tingle. Athenys looked at him as if she were a cat and he a particularly bedraggled rat. He was suddenly glad that he had washed and changed into new clothes before visiting their chamber. These feline xenogens were far too good at making him feel uncomfortable.

  'If you could make your question more specific, Janus Darke, I will endeavour to answer it.'

  Janus glanced back to make sure the door was closed and suddenly felt stupid. He was not about to ask about what he really wanted to know in this chamber with all of its listening devices.

  'If you are worried about being overheard,' said Athenys, 'don't be. This chamber is secure.'

  'You sound very certain.'

  'I am very certain of that. Your primitive technology is hardly sophisticated enough to baffle our sensors.'

  Janus filed this information away for future use. It was something worth knowing. He still did not feel like speaking, though. He wanted something more than the eldar's word that they would not be overheard. Trust Stiel though he did, there were some things he was not willing to risk his crew finding out. Auric's next statement made all of his objections useless however.

  'I can tell you wish to talk about the thing that is consuming your soul, captain. I do not blame you. The hour is late and things grow very dark indeed.'

  ELEVEN

  THE MARK OF THE ELDAR

  'What do you mean?' asked Janus Darke.

  The two eldar smiled at him, and they were not reassuring smiles. This was the first chance Janus had ever had to look at their unconcealed faces close up. Their heads were longer and thinner than a human's, their features far finer and more delicate. Their chins were chiselled and strong, their ears lobeless and pointed. Their eyes were large and almond shaped with long lashes. The pupils reminded him unnervingly of a cat's. For all their unsettling beauty there was something inhuman and threatening about those faces.

  'You possess a great gift, Janus Darke,' said Auric. 'Although your people do not regard it as such.'

  'I do not know what you mean,' Janus blustered.

  'You are a psyker. Your mind is attuned to the forces of the warp. Unfortunately this also means the forces of the warp are attuned to you.'

  Janus slumped down onto a cushion, too tired and too ill to protest. All of his life he had been warned about the evil nature of psykers, and now he had found out he was one. 'What has all this got to do with you?'

  'Our fates are intertwined. So much has become clear as the probability lines settle.'

  'Try and be a bit less vague,' said Janus irritably. Auric shrugged, a boneless gesture that was surprisingly human. Janus realised that was one of the things that was so unsettling about the eldar. One moment they were as strange and incomprehensible as tyranids, the next they reminded him of people he had once known.

  'You are asking me to explain concepts so complex that you could spend a lifetime trying to master them and still fail.'

  'I will settle for a brief précis, the sort that you might give a child.'

  'Eldar children are rare and some who are older than you would still count as children.'

  'You say I am a psyker. Start with that.'

  'What you call psykers are people blessed or cursed with the gift to tap one of the root forces of the universe.'

  'So you say—the Inquisition says they are possessed by daemons.'

  'Does not your Inquisition employ psykers?'

  'They are shielded by the Emperor, and by their faith.'

  'And you lack that faith or are accursed by your Emperor?' countered Auric.

  'I am not privy to all of the secrets of the Inquisition. I would imagine that there is some training involved as well.'

  'Indeed there must be. For to successfully wield such forces without making yourself vulnerable to the manipulation of those who wai
t beyond takes decades, perhaps centuries of training.'

  'Few humans have centuries to do anything, let alone train.'

  'Alas, this is so, and it is one of the curses of your people, to be gifted with such power and yet never to have the time to fully master it. It is one of the reasons your race spends so much time blundering in the dark and causing so much harm to yourselves and to others.'

  Janus had no comeback to this so he ventured a question. 'Are you a psyker?'

  'I am. And as you can see I am not possessed by daemons.'

  'I have only your word for that.' Janus sensed Athenys tense, as if she were preparing to attack. Auric calmed her with a flat chopping gesture of his hand.

  'It is not possible for an eldar to be possessed by daemons, and live. We are protected from this fate in a hundred ways.'

  'Such as?'

  'You are asking me to reveal much, Janus Darke.'

  'You are asking me to take a great deal on trust. Too much.'

  'For one thing all of us have much stronger souls than you humans. All of us to a certain degree share what you call psyker powers. And all of us are trained from a very young age to resist the blandishments of Chaos.'

  'Are you offering to train me in your ways?'

  Auric laughed and shook his head. His smile was wide and surprisingly pleasant. 'No. It would take more years than you have left for you to begin to understand why that must be so.'

  'You have a gift for being patronising, Auric.'

  'That may well be so, but please believe me I do not mean to be so. There is very little common ground between our people, far less than our superficial physical resemblances would suggest. I very much doubt that I could begin to understand the means by which you tap into the power. It took me years of meditation just to be able to light a candle. It took decades before I had enough power to slay a man and yet, in a few months, you have acquired a strength it would take our warlocks decades to reach.'

  'He has been doing this with none of the sane and sensible safeguards our warlocks would use. It's hardly surprising,' said Athenys, her voice cold and harsh. 'The warp calls to those whom it would swallow.'