by Paul Kearney
‘Report,’ Calgar said tersely.
‘A large force is gone to ground in the passageways behind us, my lord,’ Unser said. ‘I make it some hundreds strong, but the signatures are… different.’
‘In what way?’
‘The readings show they are not equivalent to the Chaos filth which we have been fighting thus far. I cannot be more specific. The atmospherics and interference are too great.’
‘Brother Ulfius?’ Calgar asked the Librarian.
‘They are not Chaos,’ Ulfius said. He nodded to Magos Fane. ‘The magos may be able to explain more fully.’
‘Someone should,’ Calgar said, reining in his irritation.
‘I should like to speak privately to the Chapter Master,’ Fane said. ‘My lord, will you indulge me with a private channel?’
Calgar opened one up. ‘Speak, magos. Time is short.’
Fane paused a long moment, all the same. ‘My lord, I have been… contacted by the forces of the Adeptus Mechanicus which are extant upon the hulk.’
‘The Dark Mechanicus, you mean.’
Fane shook his head earnestly. ‘No, my lord – that is a misconception. They are of my Adeptus. Martian renegades, it would seem, who broke off from the orthodox Cult Mechanicus a long time ago, and became lost. But that does not mean they are scions of Chaos – they have never worshipped the Ruinous Powers, and are free of taint. The forces here on Fury have been stranded a long time, forced to keep to the upper levels of the hulk by the malign presence below, unable to escape, unable to gain control. They attacked your brethren on the surface because they felt threatened, but now they regret that precipitate action.’
‘Do they indeed?’ Calgar snapped, but his mind was already racing over the implications of what Fane said.
‘My lord, they believe that we have an enemy in common, that which dwells at the heart of the artefact. It is inimical to all rational life, and it is the very antithesis of our dedication to the worship of the Omnissiah.’ Again, a long pause. Calgar watched the magos closely, but the adept had no features to read, and he kept his limbs within his ragged robe like a man hugging his own chest. ‘They have a leader, an ancient adept of my own order, and he wishes to treat with you. He is not far away. In fact, he is just down the tunnel behind us.’
‘A parley?’ Calgar asked, surprised, dredging the word out of past reading.
‘Just so. He swears that he will meet with you and you alone, and that whatever happens, no further harm will come to you or your brethren from him and our– his kind. My lord, I beseech you, meet with this adept. He has worthy things to say.’
‘It would seem he has already been saying quite a lot to you, magos.’
‘We have been in communication for some time now, yes.’
‘I wonder how your ordo would feel about that.’
Fane bowed. ‘My lord, we stand here on the brink of dissolution. Mere politics is no longer a matter of import. We must speak now of a way to resolve the entire issue of the hulk we stand upon, and the threat it represents.’
Threat, or opportunity? Calgar did not like this. He weighed it up in his mind, and it took only a fraction of a second for him to decide.
‘I will meet with him. Where?’
The magos gestured down the tunnel behind him with one alloy claw. ‘Just down there, in the dark behind us.’
Calgar nodded. He brought up the company vox.
‘Captain Galenus.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘I am going out alone to the rear of the column. If I am not back with the main body in one hour, you are to kill Magos Fane and all his party before continuing to our rendezvous with Inquisitor Drake. You will leave a rearguard behind if necessary, but you must join forces with Drake. All subsequent actions will be taken in close advisement with the inquisitor. Is that clear?’
There was barely a hesitation. ‘Clear, my lord. It shall be so.’
‘Well, magos,’ Calgar said back on the private channel. ‘Let us see what your long-lost kin have to say for themselves.’
Nineteen
He was taller than Calgar had expected. It was the arthropod-like bionic legs, very like those of a spider, which elevated his thin, insectile torso, decently covered by a scarlet robe though it was. He held a cog-headed staff in one of his many limbs, and from his wide-lensed face-mask a long proboscis drooped down. Under the robe, other limbs tensed; Calgar could make out the thrum of a plasma weapon there, and the static crackle of an arc pistol. This entity might appear to be a tall, lean stick-insect of little might, but it was well armed and armoured under the Mechanicus rags. And even Calgar, no psyker, could sense the great innate power of the intellect that now regarded him.
Strangest of all though, was the voice. When it spoke, it was not in the shrill, nasal, tinny tones of a Mechanicus adept, wearisome voices that Calgar had become used to over two centuries of dealings with the politics of the Forge Worlds. No; this being’s voice was a hale baritone, one which should have come out of a shape far more human than that which currently stood before him in the dripping dark of Fury.
‘I thank you for your forbearance, Chapter Master,’ it said.
Calgar did not reply. Part of his mind was calculating how most efficiently to kill this creature, another part noted the movement in the tunnel far behind; sagitarii setting up their heavy weapons. And a third monitored the tactical outlay of Fifth Company as it sat tight some two hundred yards up the passage behind him, waiting on events.
‘Don’t thank me just yet,’ he said. ‘You know who I am – perhaps you could do me the courtesy of identifying yourself.’
‘You would not have heard my name before, I think.’ The thing had a smile in its voice. ‘But once I was called Hagnon-Cro, an honoured cognomen given to me by my Adeptus upon attaining my current rank.’
‘And what rank is that?’
‘I am a dominus of the Adeptus Mechanicus, Chapter Master, as I think you well know, as far above Magos Fane as you are above a lowly trooper in one of your Chapter’s line companies.’
‘I am not above them,’ Calgar retorted. ‘We are brothers, same blood, same faith.’
‘And yet you command them.’
‘I would die for them. Can you say the same for your kind?’
Amusement. ‘I cannot. I have progressed far beyond bonds of blood and sentiment. It has always been a besetting weakness of your kind, Lord Calgar. It led to the greatest of all sins. It has led to where we find ourselves now. It is your own Adeptus who brought us both to this pass.’
‘My kind have fought for ten thousand years to right that wrong – can you say the same?’
‘I can. We have done better. We have laboured far longer for the advancement of knowledge, for the improvement of the Imperium, for the elevation of the consciousness into a higher state of being that is embodied in the Omnissiah.’
‘We do not share your particular dream of apotheosis.’
‘That is your loss. And yet you grope towards it now and again. Your brother in arms – Fortunus, was he named? He was embodied in the machine-spirit of a mighty engine, and came close to true approximation of what we seek.’ A pause. ‘It was a shame that we had to destroy him.’
Calgar let the anger wash over him, and beat it down. He knew how to use it, though on Fury it was less governable than it had been of old.
They had killed the Ancient, this monstrosity and its minions. And this Hagnon-Cro had the gall to admit it to his face.
He fought the impulse to light up the Gauntlets of Ultramar and rend the adept limb from limb.
‘He blocked your path to the lower levels, I take it.’
‘Yes, Chapter Master. He was faithful to you, right to the end. I honour him for it. I wish it could have been otherwise. But you and your brethren have cleared a way into the very depths of the artefact for
us, partly because you are–’ a smile in the silken voice ‘–rather adept in the arts of killing – and partly because you have been allowed to progress. Do you understand that, Chapter Master?
‘You have battled mightily to come this close to the core of the artefact, but you have been directed and managed most of the way. I and my kind have followed in your wake, and in doing so have come closer to our goal than we have in the last millennium.’
‘And your goal is?’
‘The same as yours. To destroy it.’
They looked at one another. Calgar knew that the dominus was lying. It knew that he was caught in an impossible place, a place that held only death or worse for them all. But if he simply rejected this renegade’s approach, then his brothers would be caught between two fires. The odds, bad already, would become overwhelming. They would all die here, and for nothing.
The Codex was no help. It dealt with strategy and tactics, with honour and wisdom. What he had to deal with here held precious little strategy, less wisdom, and no honour at all.
‘My Librarian says you hold no Chaos taint,’ he said to the dominus. ‘Magos Fane tells me you are Martian renegades, lost in the void.’
‘They both speak truly. We hold true to the vision of the Omnissiah, and believe that it is embodied in the Emperor of Mankind. The Dark Mechanicus broke their oaths and joined the traitor Warmaster, Horus, at the start of the Great Heresy, led by the Fabricator-General of Mars, Kelbor-Hal,’ Hagnon-Cro told him. ‘We are not of their kind.
‘And yet, for the Adeptus Mechanicus, the motives for the Great Schism were not the same as those which motivated the Traitor Legions of the Warmaster. The rebels were mistaken in their allegiance, but not perhaps in their ideals. They wanted to be free of the hegemony of Terra, free to seek out knowledge beyond the absurd cabalistic restraints of the Martian Administratum. They sought knowledge for its own sake. Some followed it down dark paths which should not have been trod.
‘For myself, I led my adjuncts here in search of pure knowledge. We are not part of the Imperium any longer, but that does not mean that we have succumbed to the lures of the Ruinous Powers – indeed, we have been battling their kind on this artefact for centuries.’
‘I see.’ This Hagnon was not being entirely honest. It was clear he did not seek to eradicate Fury, merely to supplant its current masters. But he must be used. There had to be a way to harness him to the right true end of it all.
Let us hope I am equal to the deception, Calgar thought. And the mere thought angered him further. He had to negotiate now with a subtle mind which had centuries of familiarity with the hulk. One which had overseen the deaths of his own battle-brothers. The idea left a foul taste in his mouth.
There would be a reckoning for those deaths.
Guilliman, look on me, and be merciful. Sometimes honour and courage are not enough.
‘What is your proposal?’ he asked the dominus bluntly.
To his surprise the answer was just as blunt.
‘We join forces. Fight a way to the heart of this thing and eradicate it.’
It, or those who currently control it? Calgar thought, but he nodded in his beaked helm. ‘Very well. But do you know how best to destroy the – the artefact?’
‘The control systems are all in a chamber below us, an enormous hollow which in itself is but the relic from a ruined planet. In that immense chamber – well defended – is the key to everything we need,’ Hagnon-Cro said. And such was his eagerness that his eyelenses glowed brighter, and his clawed feet skittered a little in the noisome water they stood in.
‘What planet?’ Calgar asked. He noticed that the dominus did not speak of escape, of how to survive the end of the hulk. And it was that omission which finally set the seal on the thing’s lies.
‘You do not know?’
He stood silently, and the dominus settled a little on his insectile limbs.
‘It is of no matter. A portion of a broken world was taken and set adrift millennia ago by the Ruinous Powers, an unholy relic, a mere fragment.’ Then the dominus stared at him.
‘By the way, Chapter Master, those of your own Adeptus who have been corrupted by the dark forces at the heart of this artefact are now its staunch defenders, as I am sure you know.’ A smirk, not seen, but sensed. ‘They call themselves The Broken, now, and their Master is named The Witness. It was the absurd caricature of justice, as your Imperium sees it, which condemned them here. And Chapter Master–’ the long proboscis leaned closer ‘–they do not forget.’
Calgar swallowed his rage. ‘So it would seem.’
He stood there for a long moment in silence, looking at Hagnon-Cro. The creature’s arrogance was almost insufferable. But when he spoke again, his voice was grave and measured.
‘It would also seem that we can help one another, Dominus Hagnon-Cro. We both wish to be free of Fury, and–’ he joined in the lie without audible hesitation– ‘see it destroyed. Shall we then consider how best our forces will aid one another?’
The creature reared up on its prehensile legs from the dappled filth in which it stood. ‘At last – a servant of the Imperium that exhibits some acumen. I salute you, Chapter Master. Let us cooperate in sending the foul guardians of this artefact to their doom. My troops are behind me, battered but still potent. Let us meditate a little on the prospect of killing.’
Calgar smiled grimly inside his helm. ‘My lord dominus,’ he said, ‘killing is my business.’
Later, he stood before the senior officers of Fifth Company, and told them of his words with the dominus, the fragile truce which was now in place – perhaps even an alliance. He did not need to see their faces to know how it disquieted them.
‘Brothers,’ he said, ‘I, too, wish there was some other way, but I do not believe that even Fifth Company can prevail both against the Chaos scum which infests this place, and the Mechanicus renegades behind us. This Hagnon-Cro knows it – he believes he has us just where he wants us.’
‘To treat with renegades is to start out on the road towards something darker,’ Chaplain Murtorius said sternly. ‘My lord, perhaps it might be better if we simply died here, fighting them all, keeping our souls clean and our honour unbesmirched.’
‘I am Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, Lord of Macragge,’ Calgar said sharply. ‘I do not have the luxury of despair. It is my task here to put an end to this thing, not merely add to the list of those it has consumed. If we must dirty our hands a little in the process, then so be it. I will grind whatever grist the mill requires to fulfil my mission, and you will obey me in that. Am I clear, Chaplain Murtorius?’
The Bull looked at his Chapter Master for a long moment, the skull helm unmoving. ‘Let us hope that the Emperor forgives us,’ he said.
‘What does this Hagnon-Cro suggest we do?’ Captain Galenus broke the simmering silence.
‘We make our way to the great chamber which lies below, where, Emperor willing, Inquisitor Drake still awaits us. Then we launch an all-out assault on the Blood Keep that is within, aided by the Mechanicus troops.’
‘As simple as that?’ Galenus said, astonished.
‘Nothing is that simple, captain. At the heart of the keep is a vast control centre, which is itself but the refashioned bridge of an ancient voidship. In that place are all the keys to Fury – the Geller field, the drives, navigation, gravitics, life support. We must capture it – one way or another.’
‘A straight-up assault may not be the best way, my lord,’ Galenus murmured.
‘I know it. These Mechanicus types have little real tactical sense – it has atrophied in their long years here. I intend to acquiesce in their frontal attack – Galenus, you will take Fifth into the assault. But at the same time, I, Brother Starn’s veterans, my honour guard and Inquisitor Drake will seek a less direct approach. We will try to gain entry to this hellish fortress by another route – or a
t least with less fanfare – and make our way to the heart of it.’
Calgar paused, regarding his brothers. ‘Those who used to be our brothers are now our foes. Chaos has corrupted and ruined them with the agonies and temptations of millennia. But do not forget that once they were as us, until they succumbed to rage and despair. Both those emotions run deep in this place – the touch of Chaos lies heavy upon it. Guard your hearts, brothers. It may be we have to set aside the pure dictates of honour for a little while, but I swear to you, before this thing is done, all those who have betrayed and injured us shall be paid out in full.’ He was thinking of the dead of Seventh, and of Brother Fortunus, who had died alone, and he knew they were also.
‘So be it,’ Chaplain Murtorius said, and he raised his crozius to bless them. ‘Let us have faith – in the Emperor’s will, and in one another. In this foul place, that faith is all that will sustain us.’
The Ultramarines stood aside as the troops of the Adeptus Mechanicus filed past them in the reeking tunnels. As a mark of good faith, Calgar had insisted that the dominus’ minions take the lead, and clear the way below. The battered, burnt, mud-caked Space Marines crouched unmoving in firing positions as skitarii, sagitarii, kataphrons and kastelans rumbled and splashed past them, attended by a skittering crowd of enginseers, datasmiths and servitors. There were several hundred of them, and it took a good hour before they had all gone by. Magos Fane’s party joined them, but the magos himself stopped a moment beside Marneus Calgar and addressed him on the private vox channel.
‘You think I have succumbed to the wiles of a dangerous renegade, do you not, Chapter Master?’
‘You need not worry what I think, magos. For good or ill, your fate is now entwined with this Hagnon-Cro. You had best pray he finds you indispensable.’
The magos shook his head, lenses shining, his red hood sodden with filth. ‘He was of my own order once, and to some extent, he is fulfilling the tenets of it to this day, and has been for over a thousand years. I am privy to the uplink of his consciousness. I do not detect the withering contempt which is at the heart of all Chaos taint.’