[Dark Heresy 02] - Innocence Proves Nothing

by Sandy Mitchell - (ebook by Undead)

  “I suppose it should do,” Horst said. “It’s the house of the Emperor, after all.”

  For the first time, it occurred to Keira that she knew very little about the tenets of his faith; the Ecclesiarchy was home to a bewildering variety of practices and beliefs, many of which agreed on little or nothing beyond the divinity of Him on Earth. She nodded. “It’s a side of Him I never knew before. It’s making me question a lot of things I always just took for granted.”

  Horst nodded. “I can see that it would,” he said cautiously.

  Emboldened, Keira hurried on. “I’ve been praying for guidance about some things that have been troubling me lately.”

  “Oh.” Horst nodded again. “Perhaps I should drop in there too.” He looked at her, as if wondering what to say next. “I’ve been confused about a few things myself recently.”

  “Perhaps they’re the same things,” Keira said, keeping her voice neutral, although her heartbeat was suddenly loud in her ears.

  “Perhaps they are,” Horst said. He took a hesitant step towards her, but before he could say anything more, Vex appeared from the doorway leading to Vorn’s inner sanctum. His robe was off, revealing the patchwork of metallic implants the fall of the cloth generally concealed, and a few cables trailed from plugs inserted into diagnostic sockets. It seemed he’d finally found the time to finish restoring the damage he’d sustained in the attack by Avia’s renegade techpriests.

  “A message from Vos,” he reported, an edge of excitement he couldn’t quite suppress nudging its way into the carefully modulated tones he habitually employed. “He’s found Elyra!”

  “Good.” Horst turned to the techpriest, whatever he’d been about to say forgotten in the face of this unexpected development. “Is Danuld with Barda yet?”

  “He’s just arrived at the pad,” Vorn confirmed, glancing up from the array of vox equipment walling the back of the room.

  “Then get them in the air at once. I want Vos back here for debriefing as soon as possible.” Horst hesitated. “Then I suppose we ought to tell Quillem.”

  “I’ll do that,” Keira said, both relieved and disappointed at the interruption. But duty came first with both of them, as it always would. Her palms tingled with the phantom weight of her weapons, eager to shed heretic blood. Whatever Mordechai had been about to say could wait until a more propitious moment; right now there was the Emperor’s work to do, and nothing could be more important than that.

  Twenty

  The Emperor’s Justice, Scintilla System

  260.993.M41

  “Welcome aboard, inquisitor,” Quillem said, nodding respectfully to the black-clad figure striding towards him across the hangar deck of the Emperor’s Justice, the echoes of his bootsoles ringing from the deckplates in the cavernous space. “The others are already assembled.”

  “Good. I can assure you there’s no time to waste,” Karnaki said. A small constellation of servo-skulls was trailing after him from the passenger compartment of the shuttle Inquisitor Grynner had dispatched to collect him, parked neatly next to the crimson and grey Lightnings of the vessel’s fighter wing, and he glanced back, as if to make sure none of the hovering servitors had got lost. “Please direct a few of your crewmen to see to the safe stowage of my equipment.”

  “Equipment?” Quillem echoed, a little taken aback. So far as he was aware, the Ordo Malleus inquisitor was simply here to exchange information.

  Karnaki nodded. “My plasma pentacle, and a few other warding devices. They may well prove necessary.”

  There was no point in arguing, so Quillem simply accosted the nearest deckhand, and issued the appropriate instructions. “And make sure accommodation is prepared for our guest,” he concluded. If Karnaki was to accompany them, subject to Inquisitor Grynner’s approval of course, he’d need quarters of his own.

  Part of his mind wondered if he’d agreed so readily because of the strange power of compulsion the Malleus inquisitor apparently possessed, but he dismissed the fleeting thought as fruitless paranoia; compelled or not, he’d merely done exactly what he would have in any case.

  “This way.” He led their guest, and his ossiferous comet tail, to a conference suite adjoining his patron’s living quarters; Jorge Grynner guarded the sanctity of his study jealously, and few of his acolytes were permitted entry, fewer still as freely as Quillem.

  The metal-walled room, which could have seated a score of delegates, seemed strangely deserted with so few occupants. Grynner was at the head of the table, as befitted both his status and his position as the owner of the ship on which the meeting was taking place, the gilded aquila grasping the sigil of the Inquisition in its talons visible on the wall behind him. Horst was sitting halfway down one side of the slab of polished wood, trying to look unimpressed by his surroundings, without much success, accompanied by the techpriest Vex. At a nod from his patron, Quillem seated himself opposite the two Angelae, while Karnaki, as the most senior guest, settled comfortably into the chair facing Grynner along the length of the table.

  “Inquisitor.” Grynner inclined his head courteously. “Thank you for concluding your researches so promptly.”

  “There’s little time to waste,” Karnaki said, returning the nod. “Particularly in the light of the information supplied by the young lady who wandered into our library the other evening.” He glanced at Horst and Vex. “Is Miss Sythree not accompanying you?”

  “She’s aboard,” Horst said, “keeping an eye on our luggage.” To Quillem’s amusement, the assassin had refused to be parted from a single item until it had all been safely transferred to the cabins assigned to the Angelae; it seemed the incident aboard the Misericord had left its mark. “Inquisitor Grynner persuaded us that our interests coincide, at least for the moment.”

  “Until your missing patron turns up again, you mean,” Karnaki said. Horst nodded, and Karnaki echoed the gesture, a trifle dismissively. “I suppose he still might,” he conceded.

  “What do you mean by that?” Horst asked, clearly nettled.

  Karnaki steepled his fingers thoughtfully. “Simply that, if I’m right in the conclusions I’ve drawn, he was well advised to be cautious. The entities he, and you, encountered on Sepheris Secundus are a particularly insidious threat. There’s no reason to suppose that they have actually spread their influence as far as the ranks of the Ordos Calixis, but it certainly isn’t beyond the bounds of possibility.”

  “From which, I take it, we are to infer that you have identified them?” Inquisitor Grynner asked.

  “I believe so,” Karnaki said. He turned his head to look directly at Horst, in a manner which reminded Quillem of a raptor catching sight of a small rodent in the grass that’s probably not worth the effort of going after. “Your assumption that they were daemons is quite understandable, but completely erroneous. From the visual memories I lifted from Miss Sythree’s mind, and the fact that they appear to have possessed psykers, I’m quite confident that they were a species we refer to as Enslavers.”

  “That’s rather disturbing, if true,” Inquisitor Grynner said, absently polishing his spectacles on the end of his neck cloth.

  “You’re familiar with these creatures?” Karnaki asked, a faint tone of scepticism edging into his voice.

  Grynner shook his head. “I’ve heard the name mentioned. In connection with the Gadarine incident. But the details didn’t particularly interest me at the time.” He blinked mildly at the black-clad man facing him. “I seem to recall Exterminatus was resorted to on that occasion.”

  Quillem tried to mask his shock, which he could see reflected in Horst’s face opposite him. A decree of Exterminatus, eradicating every trace of life on a populated world, right down to the viral level, was the Inquisition’s ultimate sanction, and only resorted to in the direst of circumstances.

  “That’s quite correct,” Karnaki confirmed. “By the time the Ordo Malleus had responded, the situation had deteriorated beyond any hope of recovery. Thousands of psykers had been posse
ssed, and billions of citizens had fallen under the influence of those creatures which had already broken through from the warp. Without swift and decisive action, the taint would have spread to the neighbouring systems.”

  “You mean they can control non-psykers?” Quillem asked, and Karnaki nodded, as though at a particularly promising pupil.

  “Quite so. But in order to do that, they need to be physically present in the material universe. If enough of them break through, they can seize control of a hive, even an entire world, then spread the taint to neighbouring systems. Left unchecked, a large enough outbreak could theoretically engulf an entire cluster.” He smiled bleakly. “Which is why we’re willing to take such extreme measures to keep an infestation contained.”

  “Are we to understand, then, that they use psykers as a conduit to the materium?” Grynner asked.

  “Exactly,” Karnaki agreed. “As I’m sure you’re aware, the souls of unprotected psykers blaze like beacons in the warp, attracting many of the predators which dwell in that realm. Among them, the Enslavers. When they find such a soul they devour it, possessing the physical body, in a manner similar to that of daemons.”

  “Technomancer Tonis didn’t seem possessed when we saw him at the citadel,” Vex objected. “He seemed perfectly normal.”

  “Which is precisely why possession by these creatures is so insidious,” Karnaki replied. “The flesh of a daemonhost is twisted by the corruption within, but a victim taken by an Enslaver shows no outward sign of their true nature. They can work towards their goal of conquest, completely hidden from view, for as long as it suits them.”

  “And then they burst out of the flesh containing them,” Horst said. “Like Tonis, and the psyker in Adrin’s mansion.”

  “Exactly.” Karnaki nodded. “The host body is completely destroyed, but that means nothing to the Enslaver. It’s fulfilled its purpose, in allowing them to enter the physical world. Once present, it can begin to exert its malign influence over any minds in the vicinity.”

  “Then why didn’t the one in Adrin’s mansion simply control us, instead of allowing us to kill it?” Horst asked.

  “Because, according to Miss Sythree’s memories, apart from your team, there was a score or so of storm troopers present. That was a lot of minds to assimilate at once. Had there only been one or two potential slaves in the room, you wouldn’t have been so lucky.” Karnaki nodded thoughtfully. “Of course, they feed on the minds they control; the more slaves they dominate, the stronger they are, and the more fresh minds they can consume. Which means they aren’t vulnerable for very long. In theory, a sufficiently strong psyker, or powerfully warded individual, should be able to resist for long enough to mount a physical attack, hoping to return them to the warp as you did on Sepheris Secundus. But since such a course would also mean getting through a small army of meat puppets, that doesn’t offer much of a chance.”

  “I see.” Inquisitor Grynner tilted his head meditatively. “This has been most informative. Thank you, inquisitor.”

  “Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear,” Karnaki said. “We need to act now, without any further delay.” He leaned forwards a little, and Quillem could feel the force of his personality, and the passion which clearly drove him. “Do you see? They were possessing psykers on Sepheris Secundus, and a whole group of fugitive wyrds from there have just arrived in this system. Any one of them could have been tainted, if not more.”

  “Elyra,” Horst said. “She’s infiltrated the group. If he’s right, she’s in terrible danger.” He turned to Inquisitor Grynner. “We have to pull her out, now.”

  “If we do that,” Grynner said mildly, “we lose our lead to the Faxlignae. And, possibly, our best chance of finding and aiding Carolus, since I’m certain he’ll be continuing the investigation you started together on Sepheris Secundus.” He shook his head. “For now, we do nothing, and simply observe.”

  “You might be willing to take that risk,” Karnaki said, rising from the table, “but I most certainly am not.” He glanced casually at Horst. “Where are the psykers hiding?” he asked, in a conversational tone. “Ah, I see. An abandoned agridome on the Tarsus orbital.”

  Horst sat bolt upright, looking shocked and horrified. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out, “he just…” Words failed him.

  “I’m aware of Inquisitor Karnaki’s peculiar talent,” Grynner said. He blinked mildly at Horst. “And I can assure you, you have nothing to reproach yourself for.” His attention returned to Karnaki, and his expression became a little harder. “I had hoped you would refrain from the discourtesy of using it in so petty a fashion, however. Please resume your seat.”

  “My apologies.” Karnaki inclined his head, and complied with the request. “But my recommendation stands.”

  “And will be duly considered,” Grynner assured him. “Along with the other alternatives.”

  Hive Tarsus, Scintilla

  260.993.M41

  “Vos!” Drake greeted his friend at the top of the boarding ramp, which was already beginning to rise. Barda had kept the engines of the sturdy little shuttle idling, and now, as he fed power to the main boosters, it began to lift in a flurry of sand. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  “You too, mate.” Kyrlock seemed different to the man he remembered, marked by his experiences in the long weeks since they’d parted, but then Drake supposed he was too. It was something about the eyes; he’d seen it in veteran soldiers, a wariness that never quite went away. “What’s been happening? Mordechai told me a bit about it over the vox, but he didn’t want to say too much for obvious reasons.”

  “Quite a bit,” Drake said, taking the holdall his friend was carrying. It was heavy, containing the shotgun, Kyrlock’s furs and a few other items he’d acquired since they’d last seen one another. The chainaxe was hanging in its usual position, over Kyrlock’s shoulder, and the red-headed Guardsman removed it from its sling as they passed through the narrow door to the passenger compartment.

  Barda was evidently enjoying the challenge of navigating his way through the tangle of intersecting levels which made up the hive; the pad they’d landed on had been a small one, intended only for the light utility craft capable of threading their way through the tightly woven infrastructure, and even a shuttle as small as theirs had never been intended to land there. Vex had supplied the coordinates from memory, hinting that the Angelae had used it on a previous assignment, although he hadn’t elaborated; Elyra had evidently shared something of the same memories with Kyrlock, as he seemed to have found his way to the rendezvous without much difficulty.

  “Interesting place,” Drake commented, dropping into a nearby seat, and trying to take in the dizzying panorama of overlapping hab zones, twisted around one another like a tangle of twine. A lot of it seemed to be hurtling past at a speed and proximity he would normally have found alarming, but he’d had time to get to know Barda quite well since their arrival on Scintilla, and he had complete confidence in the young pilot’s abilities. Besides, if he was wrong, at least at this speed they’d be dead before he knew anything about it.

  “You could say that,” Kyrlock agreed, as Barda jinked around the last few structural members, and the shuttle broke through into clear air at last. The note of the engines increased in pitch as the pilot boosted them to full thrust, and the gallant little craft leapt forwards, like a hunting hound let off the leash. “I’ll be interested to see how Sibelius compares.”

  “We’re not going back to Sibelius,” Drake said. “We’re meeting a starship.” The sky outside the viewport was already beginning to darken, taking on a rich purple hue, and the first faint stars were beginning to show in the firmament, outshone for the moment by the brighter lights of the orbital docks and the swarm of vessels surrounding it.

  “A starship?” Kyrlock said, without much enthusiasm. “I’ve only just got off a rutting starship.”

  “This one’s different,” Drake said. “It belongs to a friend of the boss’.” He took a deep breath. �
��In fact, there’s a lot you need to know…”

  The Emperor’s Justice, Scintilla System

  260.993.M41

  After Inquisitor Grynner’s admonishment, the conference proceeded smoothly enough, although Horst couldn’t prevent himself from glancing furtively at Karnaki every few minutes. He’d known about the man’s abilities from Keira’s report, but he’d still been completely unprepared for them. As soon as the black-clad inquisitor had spoken, the information had been spat out automatically by his memory, only to be skimmed from the surface of his mind like fat from a stock pot. In spite of Grynner’s assurances that he had nothing to reproach himself for, he seethed with resentment, convinced now that the Ordo Malleus inquisitor was not to be trusted.

  Forcing himself to concentrate on the discussion around the table, he became abruptly aware that it had moved on while he’d been brooding, and that Vex was now speaking.

  “It seems clear from the files Vos obtained that the Faxlignae, if that is indeed who’s behind all this, take the legend of the Voidwraith perfectly seriously, and are actively seeking it.” The techpriest hesitated. “Voidwraith being the nearest Gothic equivalent to the eldar name for the hulk, which translates more literally as ‘eternally lost wanderer of the stars’. Seeking the services of the Conclave of the Enlightened was quite shrewd of them, as, being endowed by wealthy patrons with little understanding of what they’re buying, their libraries often include esoterica generally lost or unknown to more reputable academic institutions.”

  “You mean the slate actually contains something we didn’t know?” Quillem asked, leaning across the table. Knowing Vex’s talent for making connections not immediately obvious to most people, Horst was far less surprised by this than their new associate.