The Last Ditch

by Sandy Mitchell

  ‘At least we’ve got the shuttles now,’ I said. ‘We can resume the evacuation at once.’ I didn’t envy the passengers at all, our relatively brief journey having been unpleasant in the extreme; for once I’d begun to appreciate how Jurgen usually felt on taking to the air. True to form, though, he’d kept his feelings to himself, enduring the buffeting with his habitual stoicism.

  ‘Good thing too,’ Broklaw said. ‘We’ve still got about eighty per cent of the civilians to get out from underfoot.’

  ‘Which means we can clear the lot in about five hundred flights per shuttle,’ I said, ‘if we modify the cargo holds with temporary flooring to create a couple of extra decks.’ Catching his interrogative look, I added, ‘Sulla’s already dealing with that.’

  ‘Five hundred flights?’ Kasteen said, in tones of stark incredulity. ‘We’ll be overrun long before they’ve completed that many.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘But there are shuttles at the orbital docks too, dozens of them. Sulla’s requisitioning those as well.’

  ‘Shame nobody thought of that before,’ Broklaw said sourly, and I shrugged in agreement.

  ‘You can blame the Administratum for that,’ I said, ‘taking everything too literally as usual.’ To give her her due, once getting her hands on the abandoned shuttles had planted the idea, Sulla had gone after the rest with the single-minded tenacity she usually reserved for tackling enemies of the Imperium; and although I’d been perfectly happy to weigh in with whatever support my position and reputation afforded, I’d ended up more or less spectating as she ploughed through the obstructing bureaucrats like a Baneblade through a rabble of gretchin. ‘They were told to give the PDF a list of all the assets on Nusquam Fundumentibus capable of assisting in the evacuation effort, and the orbital docks are in space. So it fell outside what they thought was their remit120.’

  Kasteen made a sound deep in her throat, indicative of infinite disgust at the limitations of the bureaucratic mind, while Broklaw muttered something about ‘both hands and a map.’

  ‘So how many of the cattle can we get out from underfoot?’ Kasteen asked, returning to the point. ‘And how long will it take?’

  ‘Hard to say,’ I said, erring as always on the side of caution. ‘Once the modifications are complete, on all the shuttles, we can maybe lift around a hundred thousand a day.’

  ‘Four to five days,’ Kasteen said, doing the arithmetic. ‘Let’s hope we’ve got that long.’

  We all glanced at the hololith, thinking the same thing: barring a miracle, we almost certainly hadn’t.

  ‘What about the defensive perimeter?’ I asked, hoping for better news.

  ‘It’s complete,’ Broklaw told me, ‘and as tight as we can make it. So long as they attack on the surface, we should be able to hold them. Long enough to complete the evacuation, anyway, Emperor willing.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t he be?’ I asked, raising tight, tension-diffusing smiles from both of them. We all knew that throwing back the tyranid tide would be all but impossible, but with the right tactics, and a little luck, we might be able to delay them long enough to rob them of the huge prize of biomass they hoped to seize. Which was all anyone could reasonably hope for, especially as we were part of it. ‘Any word on the reinforcements?’

  ‘Still in the warp,’ Kasteen said, which meant incommunicado; the first message we’d get would be when they emerged back into the materium, and, given the capricious nature of the warp currents, there was no telling when that was liable to be.

  ‘Then let’s try to whittle the ’nids down a bit for them before they get here,’ I said, with as much resolution as I could muster.

  ‘Our main problem is going to be securing the city,’ Kasteen said, manipulating the controls of the hololith. The image changed, to show the network of trenches and weapon emplacements on the surface, and the vast, tangled skein of caverns and connecting tunnels beneath them. ‘We know they’ve got burrowers, and even before they became active the smaller organisms managed to infiltrate the power station and the agricave through the fissures round the old impact crater.’

  ‘Which we’re sitting right in the centre of,’ I added, to show I was paying attention.

  ‘Exactly,’ the colonel said. ‘So we should be prepared for a tunnelling strike.’

  I stared at the flickering image in the hololith again, my old tunnel rat’s instincts giving me as good a feel for the subterranean space as ever. The knowledge that our enemy could strike anywhere, from three dimensions, made it seem horrifyingly vulnerable, the surface fortifications pitifully inadequate.

  ‘We can never hope to defend all this,’ I said, my mouth dry.

  ‘We can’t,’ Broklaw agreed. ‘So we’re not going to try. We’re evacuating cavern by cavern, back to the surface, and sealing each one as we go. Just leaving a narrow corridor for the tech-priests ministering to the power plant on the lowest level to get out through.’

  ‘If they can be persuaded to leave,’ I said, having had far too much experience of trying to talk sense into acolytes of the Omnissiah in the face of almost certain destruction. (I still suspect Felicia never quite forgave me for blowing up her precious dam in the Valley of Daemons, and as for the Interitus Prime debacle, the only problem with being the sole survivor is having no one around to say ‘I told you so,’ to.)

  ‘The ’nids’ll do that for us when they start coming through the walls,’ Broklaw said matter-of-factly, ‘and until they do the generators need monitoring. We don’t want them going up like the one in the Barrens.’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ I agreed fervently, all too aware that the explosion I’d so recently escaped by the skin of my teeth would pale into insignificance compared to the cataclysm waiting to be touched off if the mechanisms and warding charms protecting the far bigger installation which fed the city failed. ‘How are you sealing the caverns?’

  ‘Bringing the connecting tunnels down with demo charges,’ Broklaw said. ‘Federer’s sappers are placing them now.’

  ‘I bet the governor loved that,’ I said, ‘blowing most of her precious capital to rubble.’

  ‘We reached a compromise,’ Kasteen said dryly, and I found myself obscurely grateful for having been out of the city for a few days, ravening mawlocs notwithstanding. The negotiations had evidently been fraught; Kasteen, I knew, wouldn’t give ground on operational necessity however much political pressure was applied, and though I didn’t know Clothilde half as well, I’d seen enough of her to be aware of how firm her resolve could be too. ‘The charges are being set, but won’t be detonated unless the ’nids make it into the city itself.’

  ‘So the Nusquans won’t have to dig the passages out again if the ’nids get bored and go away,’ Broklaw added, an edge of sarcasm creeping into his tone.

  ‘The whole point of this operation is to save the city, isn’t it?’ a new voice asked, and Clothilde strode into the room, her usual rabble of advisors and sycophants yapping at her heels. She looked seriously hacked off about something.

  ‘If at all possible,’ I said, cutting in smoothly before Kasteen or Broklaw could say something inadvisable. Diplomacy wasn’t exactly my strong suit, but I was definitely better at it than either of them, and with the ’nids almost certainly about to attack, the more unity I could promote the better. I glanced surreptitiously at my chronograph, finding, to my distinct lack of surprise, that it was nowhere near time for a regular scheduled briefing, and plastered a relaxed, welcoming smile on my face. ‘What seems to be the problem, Excellency? Pleased as we always are to see you, I doubt that this is entirely a social visit.’

  ‘You’re right, it’s not,’ Clothilde snapped, turning to Kasteen, with an expression fit to melt ceramite. ‘Are you aware that one of your subordinates has taken it upon herself to disrupt commerce across the entire planet?’

  ‘If you’re referring to Captain Sulla’s requisitioning of every available shuttle, then Commissar Cain was just appraising us of the matter,’ Kasteen said frostily.
Whatever she may have thought of Sulla on a personal level, she was an officer under her command, and was therefore to be defended from criticism by outsiders whatever their status. ‘I haven’t had the opportunity of consulting the Captain yet, but I can only commend her initiative.’

  ‘Then I take it you have no intention of rescinding this ridiculous edict?’ Clothilde asked, affronted.

  Kasteen shook her head. ‘I have not,’ she confirmed. ‘It’s the only way to save the lives of the civilians in this city, and it’s no thanks to your administration that we stumbled across it. The shuttles remain in military hands until the evacuation’s complete. After that, they can go back to making sure you’ve got enough caba nuts for your next cotillion.’

  ‘Assuming all the debutantes haven’t been eaten by then,’ Broklaw added, while the governor’s face went slowly puce.

  ‘You’ll have to forgive the colonel and the major for their lack of verbal finesse,’ I cut in hastily, while the sycophants hissed and tutted. ‘Soldiers are blunt by nature at the best of times, and this is hardly that.’ I gave the two officers a warning glare. ‘We’re all suffering from lack of sleep.’

  ‘Quite,’ Clothilde said, swallowing her anger with manifest difficulty. ‘But I’m sure you can keep those loathsome creatures at bay, without it having to affect the entire world. While you’re dealing with this little local matter, life goes on perfectly normally in the rest of the provinces.’

  ‘With respect,’ I said, ‘this is far from a local matter. The entire planet is under threat, and if it falls, worlds right across the sector will be at risk.’ I couldn’t believe how blinkered she was; nice enough, so long as she was getting her own way, or could be convinced of another viewpoint, but entirely lacking in the ability to see beyond the end of her nose. Which she wrinkled at me now, in a fashion I was evidently intended to find disarming.

  ‘Surely you exaggerate,’ she said.

  ‘The Lord General has dispatched a task force,’ I said patiently, ‘and an Adeptus Astartes vessel deemed the matter sufficiently serious to divert here to assist as well. I can assure you that Space Marines would have a great many claims on their attention, and wouldn’t take a decision like that at all lightly.

  ‘I’m sure that’s what they believe,’ Clothilde said, ‘and I’m sure that you’re equally sincere. But these creatures are quite simply too few in number to pose much of a threat. As soon as the Space Marines arrive, they’ll mop them up in no time.’

  ‘Let’s hope they do,’ I said. ‘But the tyranids grow stronger with every kill they make, and if they manage to consume everyone currently in the city they’ll become unstoppable.’ And, more to the point, I wouldn’t be around to see anyone try. Then something else occurred to me, and I changed tack. ‘If you really want to preserve Primadelving as a symbol of Imperial rule, supporting the evacuation would be the best way to do that. The tyranids are besieging us because of the vast reserve of biomass the population represents; on an iceworld they’re not going to find a lot else to consume. If the population goes, then so does their reason for being here.’ Which wasn’t exactly true, of course, but I was pretty sure the governor would buy it; one of the problems with being surrounded by toadies all day is that you get used to only hearing the news you want. If I made it sound as though the ’nids would just give up and go away if we got on with what we were doing, there was an excellent chance that she’d leave us alone to do it.

  ‘Are you sure about that?’ She nibbled her lip thoughtfully, while I nodded, with every appearance of sincerity.

  ‘It’s got to be worth a try,’ I said, perfectly truthfully.

  ‘I suppose so.’ She nodded once, decisively. ‘But I want those shuttles back on their scheduled cargo runs as soon as the operation is concluded.’

  ‘They will be,’ I promised, although so far as I was concerned that would include hanging around to pull out as many troopers as managed to make it to the pad as well, and I firmly intended to be among the foremost.

  ‘Then keep me informed,’ she said, and swept out, with a final disdainful glare at Kasteen and Broklaw.

  ‘“Your next cotillion?”’ I asked. ‘What were you thinking?’

  ‘I wasn’t,’ Kasteen admitted, having the grace to look a little embarrassed, then we got back to the urgent business of saving the planet.

  Unsurprisingly, the atmosphere at the next formal briefing session was more than a little frosty, Clothilde and her hangers-on sitting ostentatiously as far down the table from the Imperial Guard contingent as they could get. Being able to report that a remarkable number of civilians had been cleared out of the city already, thanks to Sulla’s initiative, only seemed to make their mood worse, and they received the news with carefully moderated enthusiasm; but at least the governor had stopped short of evicting us, no doubt reflecting that protecting her planet was a little more important than exacting petty revenge for a few barbed comments121.

  ‘That’s excellent,’ Forres complimented us, unwittingly rubbing salt in the wound. The Nusquans and the Valhallans were grouped together round the hololith now, I noted, instead of remaining at arm’s length from one another, compelling testament to the growing respect between them; by now the survivors of the Nusquan 1st were battle-hardened veterans, who the Valhallans were more inclined to accept as equals, while the fledgling regiment had learned the hard way that the Tactica Imperialis didn’t cover every contingency, and that following the lead of troopers who’d seen off tyranids before was probably their best chance of coming out of the whole mess alive. In this, I’m bound to say, Forres had played a considerable part, developing a fair degree of common sense, which seemed to have filtered down to Brecca and her command staff122. ‘The lower levels are completely clear, apart from the power plant, and we’re stationing units ready to hold back the ’nids if they break through along the fault lines.’ She indicated the hololith, where a rash of unit icons marked the caverns the Nusquans had elected to garrison.

  ‘Exemplary deployment,’ I said, my affinity for three-dimensional spaces kicking in automatically. They’d put at least a company down there, the Nusquans securing the lower levels, while the Valhallans manned the surface defences (which was fine with me, as we’d be the first to the shuttle pads when it was time to pull out, even though we’d be expected to hold them while the Nusquans caught up), and the PDF milled around inbetween, trying not to get in the way too much. ‘You might want to put another platoon over here, in the stalagmite glade123, to bolster your flank.’

  ‘We’ll do that,’ Colonel Brecca said, considering the display for a moment, and nodding. ‘Good idea.’ It was only an abstract tactical problem for me, of course, as I certainly had no intention of venturing into the lower levels; but as things were to turn out, I’d be grateful for that glimpse of the layout down there sooner than I thought.

  Just as I began to turn away, a red rune suddenly flashed into existence, and my breath stilled. It might be a false alarm, of course, but I knew how unlikely that was; and a glance at Colonel Brecca, who was listening to her comm-bead, her expression grim, was enough to snuff out that last, faint hope.

  ‘They’ve broken through,’ she said. ‘Burrowers, large and small, with Throne knows how many ’gaunts following up through the tunnels the big ones have left.’ She turned, and beckoned to her aide. ‘We’re needed back in our ops room.’

  ‘Target the burrowers,’ I counselled. ‘If they’re still active, blocking the routes to the surface won’t make any difference.’

  Brecca acknowledged the advice with a brief nod, then the Nusquans hurried out, Forres trotting after them, her hands already falling to the weapons at her waist.

  The PDF officers looked nervously at one another. After a moment’s debate they left too, to bolster the second defensive line, leaving us alone with the governor.

  ‘It seems you were right,’ she said tightly.

  ‘Apparently so,’ I conceded, while Kasteen and Broklaw got on with the urgen
t business of ensuring the shuttle pads were adequately defended. At least the storm had blown itself out by now, so our troopers were able to man the trenches without being frozen to death within moments, and I could breathe a little more easily knowing that a couple of companies stood between me and the overland assault which was certain to accompany the underground one124. I coughed delicately. ‘Perhaps it might be time to consider withdrawing to another city while you can. Purely in the interest of maintaining continuity of government, of course.’

  ‘Of course.’ Clothilde shot me an appraising glance. ‘But I’ve no intention of leaving. My job is to inspire and rally the people, and I’m hardly going to do that if I run away at the first sign of trouble.’

  ‘Then I’ll wish you good luck,’ I said.

  ‘Thank you.’ For the first time since we’d met, the governor looked a little unsure of herself. ‘If I’m honest, I’d be on the first shuttle out I could, but my mother and grandmother never shirked their duty, and neither will I.’

  I nodded gravely, as if I gave the proverbial flying one. ‘Ten generations of forebears looking over your shoulder must be lot to live up to,’ I said.

  Clothilde looked surprised for a moment. ‘No,’ she said, ‘the actual bloodline only goes back two generations. Granny took the throne after poisoning her aunt.’ I must have looked surprised, because she coloured a little. ‘Only because she had to,’ she added hastily, and her entourage nodded vigorously in agreement. ‘The aunt was quite insane. Completely paranoid.’

  ‘I’ve met a few governors like that,’ I assured her, straight faced, marvelling inwardly yet again at the mentality of the aristocracy, and went to deal with the tyranid incursion, which at least was relatively easy to understand.