by Various
‘It’s certainly... impressive,’ I agreed. Nonetheless a vague sense of unease took hold of me, and I found myself grateful for the thought that I’d be transferring to the Reclaimers’ battle-barge and leaving this system forever within a day or two.
‘We’ve already begun to establish our base camp,’ Killian continued. I strained my eyes in the direction he’d pointed, failing to see anything for a moment, then picked out a faint flash of light as one of our shuttles ignited its engine many kilometres below. ‘I think you’d be impressed.’
‘No doubt I would,’ I agreed, grateful for the secrecy he’d displayed up to now, which almost certainly meant I wouldn’t have to leave the security of the ship. ‘But I’m sure you don’t want me getting underfoot.’
‘Well...’ Killian hesitated, clearly torn between conflicting impulses, and not entirely sure whether he was doing the right thing. ‘Obviously we’re on a mission from the Omnissiah. Normally we wouldn’t dream of involving an outsider...’ Here it comes, I thought, with an ominous sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. That reputation for heroism is about to hit me over the back of the head again. The tech-priest cleared his throat. ‘But given your extensive experience as a military man, do you think Lieutenant Tarkus would listen to your opinions at all?’
‘Lieutenant Tarkus strikes me as a man who doesn’t need much advice from anyone,’ I said smoothly, cursing myself for undermining his confidence the previous evening. ‘And if he does, I’m sure the Astartes contingent will have far more pertinent comments to make when they get here than anything I might have to say.’
‘Well, that’s the thing.’ Killian coughed delicately again. ‘Technically, they’ll be led by a sergeant, won’t they?’
Of course. And Tarkus would be too stubborn to ask the opinion of a lower ranking squad leader now his pride had been hurt. Notwithstanding the fact that the Space Marine sergeant would probably have decades of combat experience, and refuse to take orders from anyone outside his Chapter in any case. I had a sudden premonition of the administrative problems which would be awaiting me on Viridia, and wondered for a moment if I’d done the right thing in volunteering.
Oh well. I might as well get a little practice in now. I had nothing better to do until the barge arrived after all.
‘I’ll do my best to help, of course,’ I said. ‘Perhaps if I had a little chat with him?’
‘Would you?’ Killian snagged a plate of canapés from a passing servitor, and offered me one. ‘We’d be very grateful. He’s an admirable young man, of course, but rather headstrong.’
‘Where is he?’ I asked, biting into the delicacy. ‘Still in his quarters?’
‘Omnissiah no.’ Killian smiled, and gestured towards the planet below. ‘He’s down there.’
As it happened that was a stroke of luck which was to save my life, but I had no idea of that at the time, so spent the shuttle ride down to the surface of Interitus Prime feeling resentful at being dragged off on a pointless errand. Technically I had no authority over Tarkus in any case, since he wasn’t a member of the Imperial Guard, but Killian didn’t seem to think that would matter, sure that the young officer would be sufficiently impressed with my fraudulent reputation to listen to whatever advice I might have to offer. He was also very grateful for my assistance, as he kept telling me from the adjacent seat as we descended, and in the end I found myself feigning interest in the desolate landscape below just to shut him up for a minute or two.
Truth to tell, after a while my interest was becoming genuine, even if it remained somewhat muted. The closer we got to landing, the more forbidding that airless landscape became, smaller craters becoming visible as we got closer to them, and faint spiderwebs of shadow swelling into chasms deep beyond measure and wide enough to swallow a hive block. The shuttle continued to descend, and I began to wonder whether the pilot was paying attention to the altitude, despite knowing it to be a servitor which could by its very nature be nothing but vigilant. There was still the faint possibility of malfunction, of course, and I began to tense subconsciously, waiting for the retros to kick in, but they never did.
‘Aren’t we getting a little close to the ground now?’ I ventured after a while, and Killian smiled lazily.
‘I suppose we are,’ he said, showing no sign of concern. Well I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself in front of the magos, so I simply shrugged with the best expression of casual indifference I could summon up.
‘Thought so,’ I said. A few moments later the reason for his lack of concern became evident even to me. A grey haze in the distance, which I’d taken for the horizon, began to close in on us, looming over the slowly descending shuttle like a thunderhead, and I nodded in sudden understanding. We were sinking gently into one of those titanic rifts in the planet’s surface, already at least a couple of hundred metres below ground level. ‘How far down does this go?’
‘About eight hundred kilometres,’ Killian said casually. ‘It’s the deepest chasm on the planet.’ He produced a flask of something from the depths of his robe with his right hand, the mechadendrites pulling out a cup apiece. ‘So we’ve got time for a recaf before we land if you like.’ I did like; under the circumstances I thought I deserved one.
The dim illumination of the dying star above had dwindled to nothing by now, but the running lights of the shuttle were enough to let me pick out a few of the details of that incredible fissure. Layer after layer of different strata slipped past the porthole, subtle graduations of hue marking the ticks of some long wound-down geological clock, and a couple of times I thought I caught a glimpse of something white, fossils perhaps, of creatures already extinct for millions of years before their planet died in its turn. The thought was a morbid one, and I tried to turn my mind away from the contemplation of death and eternity with casual conversation.
‘I can see why you think this place is so special,’ I ventured after a while. ‘It’s quite...’ I tried in vain to think of a suitable adjective, before concluding somewhat lamely with ‘impressive.’ Killian chuckled throatily. I have to say that of all the tech-priests I’ve ever met he was by far the most likable, as well as the most untypical of his kind. Factors which were probably not unconnected, come to think of it.
‘I think we can still surprise you, commissar.’ At that point I rather doubted it, to be honest, although I have to concede that he was right.
My first presentiment that there was even more to this chasm than at first met the eye was a faint glow from below us, which soon resolved itself into the actinic glare of several gigantic luminators set on pylons around a makeshift landing pad. Our shuttle settled gently in what seemed to be the exact centre of the flattened area, and Killian bounced from his seat with every sign of eagerness to get outside; it was only as he hit the rune to lower the exit ramp that I remembered the world was airless.
‘Wait a minute!’ I called, struggling up from the deeply-padded seat which suddenly seemed a lot less comfortable now that I needed to stand in a hurry. He might have some augmetic enhancements that let him manage without air, but I most certainly didn’t. Killian smiled at me.
‘I told you you’d be surprised,’ he said as the seals broke with an audible hiss. But it was the sound of equalising pressure, I realised with a sudden surge of relief, having become all too familiar with the sound of explosive decompression when the Hand of Vengeance took a torpedo volley amidships at the seige of Perlia. Thin, cold air began to seep into the shuttle, leeching the warmth away with tendrils of mist. Having spent most of my career with Valhallan units, who like their air conditioning turned up to the maximum, I found the chill bearable, but oddly dispiriting.
‘I am,’ I admitted. ‘I didn’t think you’d been here long enough to create an atmosphere.’ I followed him down the ramp, my boots crunching gently on the gravel beneath, which had something of the texture of ash.
‘We haven’t.’ Killian was ru
bbing his hands together, although whether for warmth or from enthusiasm I couldn’t tell. Probably both. ‘So the survey reports were right about that at least.’
‘So why haven’t the gasses frozen?’ I asked. Even if the feeble sun were warm enough to prevent them turning to ice it never penetrated this deep below the surface, and the world was too long dead to have any residual heat left in its core. My breath puffed the words into little clouds as I spoke, although Killian’s, I noticed absently, did not.
‘Exactly!’ Killian said, as though I were his favourite pupil, and led the way between the two nearest luminator gantries, following a clearly-defined trail in the brittle ground. Once we were beyond the glare my eyes adjusted, and I could make out a cluster of dimmer lights on the walls of the chasm. ‘There has to be something else down here emitting energy. It’s the only explanation.’
I was intrigued in spite of myself, I don’t mind admitting it. As we approached the lights I could see they were suspended in the mouth of a vast cavern, with servitors scuttling about reinforcing the makeshift ramp of broken shale leading up to it. I’ll never know if Killian’s enthusiasm would have led him to expound further on what he was after, or if he would have realised he was revealing adeptus secrets to an outsider and clammed up again, because at that point a young tech-priest appeared in the cave mouth gesticulating wildly.
‘Magos!’ he called, practically jigging up and down on the spot with excitement. ‘We’ve found something!’ Without even pausing to ask what it was, Killian picked up the pace and practically ran inside the gaping hole in the cliff face, which was large enough to have taken our shuttle with room to spare. Not wanting to lose my guide I trotted after him, more than a little intrigued.
Killian barely slowed at any of this, hurrying on into the darkness which surrounded that scene of activity. Red-uniformed tech-guards were hovering deferentially at the fringes of the illuminated area, and I made a mental note to suggest to Tarkus that they be redeployed a little further out, where their eyes would be adjusted to the surrounding gloom and better able to distinguish any infiltrators moving in on the bustling researchers. Of course there didn’t seem the remotest chance of anyone else being here, and for all I knew they had augmetic eyes which could see perfectly well in the dark anyway, but by that stage in my career I was already beginning to acquire the healthy sense of paranoia which has probably done more than anything else to ensure my survival long enough to reach an honourable retirement.
Plunging into the gloom after him I found the way easy enough to negotiate despite the lack of illumination, as he was making more noise than an ork in a distillery. Another patch of light was visible in the distance and I hastened towards it, picking out a cluster of white robes and red uniforms without difficulty. More of the peculiar circle-and-stick markings were embossed on the far wall, and as I moved closer it became obvious that the surface here was worked to a glossy smoothness which somehow seemed to swallow the light falling on it.
‘These sigils are undoubtedly of necrontyr origin,’ a tall, cadaverous tech-priest was saying as I entered the circle of brightness. He broke off to glare at me, until Killian gestured to him to continue. The name meant nothing to me at the time, of course, although when I finally reported back to Lokris he showed me some highly classified files which did nothing at all to make me feel better. I suppose he thought if something was going to try that hard to kill me without him instigating it, the least he could do was let me know what it was.
‘This is all very interesting, Brother Stadler,’ Killian said, with every sign of impatience. ‘But what about the artifact?’
‘It’s over here,’ Stadler said after a moment, during which I’d made it abundantly clear that I wasn’t moving. The circle of light surrounding us shifted a little, moved by some technosorcery I wasn’t privy to, revealing the mouth of a tunnel. Like the wall it penetrated the archway was perfectly smooth, composed of stone blocks of an eerie glossy blackness which only served to intensify the darkness beyond. ‘We started down the tunnel hoping to find more heiroglyphs, and stumbled over this.’ He permitted himself a wintery smile. ‘Quite literally, in the case of our escort.’
A couple of red-uniformed figures emerged from the gloom, the scowl on Tarkus’s face enough to tell me who the tech-priest was referring to. The trooper with him was walking backwards, his hellgun aimed at something still in the darkness beyond, and a moment later a couple of tech-priests appeared leading something metallic between them. It was big, I could tell that even before it came into the light, supported by a dozen cyber-skulls which had managed to wedge themselves into the interstices of its body. A small, detatched part of my mind noted that the cogboys at least must be able to see in the dark, as there was no sign of illumination further back.
‘Remarkable!’ Killian looked like a juvie on Emperor’s Day morning who’s just seen the toy soldiers he always wanted at the top of his bowl. I could have thought of a number of other adjectives to describe the thing, starting with ‘hideous’ and growing steadily more pejorative.
It resembled nothing so much as a metallic sump spider, although even one of those would have seemed cuddly by comparison. Mechanisms protruded from its head, and six limbs dangled from its bloated body. Even inert it exuded a palpable malevolence which wrapped itself around me like a suffocating blanket.
‘What have we here?’ Killian bent over it, probing with the mechadendrites. ‘Looks like a power core. Completely inert, of course.’ He shrugged. ‘Pity, but there you go. It would have been interesting to see what it does.’ Interesting wasn’t quite the word I would have used, needless to say. The other tech-priest nodded in agreement.
‘I dare say we could rig something up. Possibly a fusion bottle...’ He seemed to remember my presence all of a sudden, and subsided, glaring at me again.
‘Are you sure that’s wise?’ I asked. Everyone looked at me, and I shrugged, determined not to seem too concerned at their evident hostility. ‘I’m no expert, but –’
‘Quite right, you’re not,’ Stadler snapped. ‘So kindly leave theological matters to those who are.’
‘Fine.’ I tried to look as reasonable as I could. ‘But might I suggest you at least delay the attempt until the Astartes arrive?’ And I was a long way away from any potential danger, of course. ‘That should at least minimise any risk to the security of the expedition.’
‘The expedition is perfectly secure,’ Tarkus cut in, his voice tight, and I cursed myself for wounding his pride all over again. ‘I see no reason to delay the furtherance of the Omnissiah’s work.’
At that point it all became academic anyway. Killian muttered something under his breath, and a faint click came from somewhere in the bowels of the machine.
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘That looks like a power coupling...’
Without any warning at all, a thin metal probe shot from the depths of the arachnoid automaton and buried itself in one of the hovering cyber-skulls. A blue arc of energy sparked between them and the servitor fell lifeless to the ground, bouncing off into a corner somewhere.
‘Remarkable!’ Killian said again, and stepped forward for a closer look. I did exactly the opposite, you can be sure, retreating just far enough to ensure that Tarkus and his trooper stood between me and the sinister device.
‘Stay back!’ I warned, drawing my laspistol. Tarkus seemed to remember my reputation at that point, and clearly reasoning that if I was concerned he ought to be too, began to follow suit. The trooper raised his hellgun again.
‘Put those down!’ Killian was outraged. ‘Have you any idea of the importance of this artifact?’ Tarkus and the trooper began to obey, although I wasn’t about to holster my weapon under any circumstances. Before we could debate the point, however, a loud crack echoed through the cavern. The spider thing had teleported away, leaving air to rush into the void it had occupied like a miniature thunderclap.
We stare
d at one another in mutual incomprehension for a moment.
‘Where did it go?’ the trooper asked, an expression of bafflement on his face which was almost comic. I shook my head.
‘Emperor alone knows,’ I said.
‘It must be somewhere nearby,’ Killian said. ‘How far do these tunnels extend?’ Stadler shrugged.
‘Kilometres. We’ve barely begun to map them.’ Killian began to look as though his new soldiers had been trodden on by an adult before he got the chance to play with them.
‘We’ll establish a search pattern,’ he said. ‘We’re bound to find it eventually.’
‘If it doesn’t find you first,’ I added, before I could prevent the words from slipping out. Tarkus, to his credit, took my meaning at once.
‘You think it’s a guardian of some kind?’
‘I don’t know,’ I admitted. ‘But it’s a reasonable guess. Whatever it’s for it was built to last.’
‘I’ll double the sentries around the base camp,’ Tarkus said. But I already had an uncomfortable feeling that wasn’t going to be enough.
My first instinct, I might as well admit it, was to find some excuse to get back on the shuttle and return to the safety of the orbiting starship. This wasn’t as easy as it sounds, though; despite the fact that I was clearly unwelcome so far as the majority of the tech-priests were concerned, and Tarkus remained as prickly as ever, he was sensible enough to realise that someone who’d survived as many clashes with the enemy as I had was someone whose advice he should listen to. So despite my impatience I spent most of the day reviewing his plans for the defence of the camp (which were pretty sound, I’m bound to admit, although I was able to plug a couple of holes that would only have been obvious to someone with field experience), and it was several hours before I had the chance to contact the Omnissiah’s Blessing and let them know I was on my way back.