Legion (20 page)

‘I am a coward,’ he told the desert out loud, tears on his cheeks.

‘You are,’ the desert replied.

Grammaticus leapt to his feet, his heart pounding. He fought to get his broken fingers to take hold of the laspistol, and aimed it.

At nothing.

He snatched around, chasing the source of the voice, the pistol braced. +Show yourself!+ he sent. ‘I’m right here, John.’

He looked down at the stained pool. The Cabal was using it as a fleet. It wasn’t Gahet this time. This time, they’d sent Slau Dha.

‘You’ve been quiet a long time,’ Grammaticus said boldly, despite the fact that the vision of Slau Dha terrified him. ‘I called for you, and no one answered. Now you come?’

Slau Dha nodded. His reflection was extraordinarily pure, like a hologram cast up from the pool’s water. The autarch gazed at Grammaticus through the slits of his glinting, bone-white helm. He was as slender as he was tall. The white feathers of his giant wings caught the advancing light. A few metres in front of the towering white figure stood G’Latrro, Slau Dha’s little Xshesian interpolator.

‘What do you want, lord?’ Grammaticus asked.

Slau Dha murmured something.

‘He wants to know why you’re giving up, when we’re so close to our goal,’ G’Latrro translated into Common Gothic, quite unnecessarily. Grammaticus spoke the eldar tongue well enough.

‘I’m compromised. You must understand that. I can’t get any closer. I can’t do what you want me to do.’

Slau Dha did not reply. He continued to stare at Grammaticus.

‘You are terminating your mission?’ asked the little Xshesian in Gothic.

Grammaticus switched to the eldar tongue, ignoring the hunched insectoid and looking directly at the autarch. ‘I said, I can’t—’

‘He knows what you said, John,’ said G’Latrro. The Xshesian had to move its mouthparts rapidly and nimbly to approximate human speech sounds. ‘He thought the Cabal had trained you well. Briefed you fully. Shared its Acuity with you.’

‘You did, but—’

‘He thought you understood how vital this gambit was.’

‘I do, but—’

‘Why are you giving up, John?’

Grammaticus shook his head and tossed the laspistol back onto his pack. ‘I’m no good to you. This situation is no longer viable. I’ve tried to get close to the Alpha Legion, and I can’t. They’re too wary. You should deploy another agent, and try elsewhere. Another Legion, perhaps?’

‘Are you planning for us now, John Grammaticus?’ G’Latrro chose not to translate Slau Dha’s question. Instead, he relayed it straight. The question was simple, but framed in the eldar accusative form, it felt like a death threat.

‘I would not presume, lord,’ said Grammaticus, shuddering.

‘Two years, sidereal, that’s all we have before it starts,’ G’Latrro said, relaying Slau Dha’s whispers. ‘A decade, maximum, before it ends. This is our window. Our one chance to turn your feckless race into an instrument of good.’

‘You’ve never liked humans much, have you, “honoured lord”?’ Grammaticus asked.

‘Mon-keigh,’ the autarch said, contemptuously.

‘You are weed-species, afterbirth, runts,’ the Xshesian glossed.

‘No, tell me what you
really
think,’ Grammaticus said.

Slua Dha muttered. ‘You are the blight of the galaxy, and you will be its doom or its deliverer,’ G’Latrro relayed.

‘I do so love our conversations,’ Grammaticus smiled. ‘It’s so rewarding to speak to a being who perceives my entire species as a momentary aberration in the galaxy’s evolution.’

‘Aren’t you, just?’ asked Slau Dha, in thickly accented Low Gothic.

‘You know what? Fug you, you uptight eldar bastard. Piss off and hide in whatever corner of the cosmos you deem safe. Leave me alone. Stop fleeting up and abusing me.’

Grammaticus spat. His spittle landed in the pool and caused a ripple that spread out and broke around Slau Dha’s armoured shins.

‘John?’ asked G’Latrro. ‘Whatever made you think he was fleeting himself here?’

Grammaticus backed away quickly, stammering. ‘No, no… no!’ The autarch took a step towards him, past the cowed Xshesian, roiling the pool’s sediment with his feet.

Grammaticus lunged for his pack, but the eldar, as had been the case since the start of time, was far too fast. A blur of white, it reached him in a second and seized him by the throat. Long, bone-armoured fingers bit into Grammaticus’s neck and pinned him down.

‘Please! Please! Aghh!’

Slau Dha tightened his grip on Grammaticus’s throat.

‘Do not plead, mon-keigh.’

‘Ghnn! You came… you came here
in person
?’

‘Yes, John,’ said G’Latrro, coming up behind them.

‘Lord Slau Dha came here in person because it is
that
important.’

‘T
WO YEARS, THAT
’
S
all we have,’ said the insectoid, relaying the white giant’s almost inaudible whispers. ‘Two years, John. The Cabal has seen this clearly, compounding our farseer and visionist talents. Even the Drahendra have seen this, and you know how slowly they move.’

Grammaticus nodded. The Drahendra was the most silent and inscrutable faction represented in the Cabal. Sentient, energised dust, virtually extinct, the last of them existed as membrane skins around dying gas giants. Even they perceived the rapid reshaping of universal destiny.

‘We’re all going to die. Only mon-keigh kind can alter the pattern.’

‘I wish he’d stop calling us that,’ Grammaticus told G’Latrro, rubbing his bruised throat.

‘It will be called a heresy,’ Slau Dha replied through his interpolator. The insectoid’s mouthparts twirled feverishly. ‘It will halt your species’ growth in its tracks. Even your glorious Emperor will be lost in it.’

‘Lost?’

‘He will die, John.’

‘Oh glory. You’re sure?’

‘It has been farseen. He will die forever. And his eternal death is the one thing we wish to prevent. Tiny thing though he is, you Emperor is a pivotal player in this.’

‘And Horus?’

‘A monster. Not yet, but soon. A monster to engulf all monsters.’

‘Can’t you stop it? Engage with another Legion, perhaps?’

‘John, we have tested them all, one by one. The Dark Angels first, centuries ago. There is too much inherent corruption in them. The gene-seed weakness in all of the older Legions has been exacerbated by the need to keep them up to strength for the Great Crusade. They have all, one way or another, weakened themselves. They are vulnerable. But the Alpha Legion, the last, the latest… they are still pure enough. Green, receptive to change.’

‘Surely…?’

‘John, listen to him,’ said G’Latrro. ‘He let the Cabal into the Black Library, so they could read this truth. He broke all the ancient edicts to make that happen. It is predetermined. The Cabal has exhausted hundreds of other agents trying to recruit the Astartes.’

‘Human agents?’

‘Yes, John. Human agents. Agents of all species. John, the Alpha Legion is our last hope. They are latecomers. Their gene-seed has not been diluted by the Terran and Alien Wars. John, we must—’

Slau Dha spoke, cutting his interpolator off. ‘Your first death,’ he said, speaking in the eldar tongue, knowing Grammaticus had no need of an interpreter.

‘My first death,’ Grammaticus answered in kind. ‘Anatol Hive. I never asked you to save me, autarch. You chose to do that, remember? You chose to re-sleeve me in flesh and make me your agent. Don’t you dare start calling in favours that I never asked for.’

There was a long silence.

‘I must, John,’ Slau Dha replied.

He began to whisper again.

‘This is no longer about the mission,’ G’Latrro translated. ‘The mission is still vital, but another factor has entered the scheme, an unpredicted one.’

‘What?’ asked Grammaticus.

‘It is something previously invisible to the Cabal’s Acuity. The Cabal chose Nurth as an ideal opportunity to demonstrate the effects of the Primordial Annihilator to the Alpha Legion. It turns out it is, perhaps, too
much
of a demonstration.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Grammaticus. ‘What do you mean?’

‘This is why I have come in person,’ said Slau Dha quietly.

‘We have lately discovered,’ said G’Latrro, ‘that the Nurthene possess a Black Cube.’

TEN

Mon Lo Harbour, Nurth, later that morning

C
HASED BY HER
aides, Honen Mu strode out into the bright sunlight that was bleaching one of the terracotta palace’s wide inner yards. She walked like she always walked, as if she was late for something important and nothing would stop her.

Other uxors, along with senior hets, were gathering in the yard, chatting in small groups or reading data reports. The morning briefing with Sri Vedt and Major General Dev was due to start in half an hour, and expectations were high. With the full strength of an Astartes taskforce now in play, commanded by the Legion’s primarch, no less, everyone anticipated a swift escalation in operations, a major assault, most likely, and soon. It was common knowledge that the Lord Commander was entirely pissed off with the Mon Lo theatre, and expected the Alpha Legion to take it quickly and cleanly, and so end his troubles.

Her aides were all gabbling at her. The day was bright, but cold, thanks to a blustery wind blowing in off the desert. The sky seemed to be moving backwards even more slowly than before. The vapour stain above Mon Lo was as dark and immobile as ever, but the screaming seemed to have diminished a little, or had at least been baffled by the desert wind. The sound lurked at the edge of hearing, like tinnitus.

Honen Mu came to a halt. ‘Shut up,’ she snapped with her ’cept, and her aides shut up. ‘One at a time now,’ she instructed.

‘Two attempted incursions along the earthwork overnight,’ said Tiphaine. ‘One at CR412 around midnight, repulsed by a contingent of the Outremars after a patchy firefight, the other at CR416, seen off quickly by the Knaves Company.’

‘Losses?’

‘None on either occasion, uxor,’ said Jhani.

‘Force estimations?’ Mu asked.

‘Both incursions were made by nurthadtre raiders,’ Leeli said, ‘numbering no more than thirty individuals. Lightly armed skiritai units, desert rogues, each force probably led by an echvehnurth elite. They melted back into the desert as quickly as they could.’

‘They are testing our lines, probing for weaknesses,’ said Jhani.

Honen Mu looked at the girl snidely. Jhani hung her head. ‘Which, of course, you had already appreciated, uxor,’ she murmured.

‘Anything else?’ asked Mu.

‘There are sketchy reports that a spy was driven away from the pavilion last night,’ said Tiphaine. ‘Define “driven away”,’ said Mu.

‘An insurgent agent got close to the pavilion during the Lord Commander’s meeting with the Astartes,’ said Nefferti. ‘He was discovered, and fled, probably into the desert.’

‘This is unconfirmed?’ asked Mu.

‘It is simply a rumour. The Lord Commander’s staff seem unwilling to admit that such an outrage occurred.’

‘No wonder, an agent getting that close…’ said Mu.

‘The rumour also suggests that said agent may have taken out a Lucifer Black,’ said Erikah.

Honen Mu redirected her gaze at Erikah. The girl did not shy away from Mu’s hard stare. Mu liked Erikah’s strength. Far younger than Tiphaine, Mu’s senior aide, the youngest of them all, Erikah showed great promise. She reminded Mu of herself: unabashed, strong, wilful.

‘The enemy agent killed a Lucifer?’ Mu asked.

Erikah nodded. ‘Right outside the tent wall and no one inside heard anything. Of course, the Lord Commander’s staff is denying this, but you know how word gets around.’

‘I happen to know a bajolur in the Outremars who said he saw the body being whisked away,’ said Leeli.

I can imagine how you happen to ‘know’ the bajolur, thought Mu. ‘Shit,’ she whispered. ‘A Lucifer got burned?’

‘Though the Lord Commander’s staff has refused to comment on the rumour,’ said Tiphaine, ‘operational security has been beefed up to Code Order Six as of midnight last night.’

Mu nodded. Code Order Six was the highest of the standing security impositions.

‘We have learned that the Lord Commander has authorised the Lucifer Black companions to conduct a full security purge on all Army units,’ said Jhani. ‘Everyone should make themselves available for interrogation by the companions at short notice. The Lord Commander is clearly keen to root out the spy in our midst before any assault begins.’

‘That’s exactly what I would do,’ Mu sighed. I need to clear things up before that happens, she thought. I need to clean the Chiliad ranks quickly and effectively, before the damn Lucifers find our regiment wanting. I know in my bones that a weakness resides within us. Rukhsana, Rukhsana, that silly bitch, she’s hiding something, and I will find it before our entire Old Hundred is shamed and disgraced.

She looked up at the sky, and watched it slide back on itself, slowly and unnaturally, like a pict feed of ice collapsing into melt water played in reverse. The desert wind tugged at their cloaks.

‘Uxor?’ asked Nefferti.

‘Wait here, please,’ Mu said, and strode off across the yard. Her aides lingered where they had been told to linger, whispering and nattering.

‘Genewhip,’ Mu said.

Franco Boone looked around at her. He had been standing in conversation with uxor Sanzi and her aides.

‘Uxor,’ he nodded. ‘I was just about to come looking for you.’

‘A word,’ said Mu.

They walked away from the gathering throng, to the south side of the yard, under the shade of the colonnade.

‘Something stinks,’ said Boone, keeping his voice low.

‘Go on,’ she replied.

‘Let me ask you this,’ said Boone. ‘Uxor Rukhsana? You told me she was covering something. Could it be an affair with Het Pius?’

Mu gazed at him. ‘Maybe, I don’t know why she’d hide it. Who would care?’

Boone shrugged. He took hold of the golden box hanging around his neck and took a pinch of peck. ‘The thing is,’ he said, sniffing, ‘we went to scope out Rukhsana’s lodgings, to follow up on your lead. We found Het Pius there, bold as brass and twice as naked.’