1_For_The_Emperor

by Sandy Mitchel

  'Good point.' Amberley smiled, the amused expression I'd seen before back on her face. If it disconcerted Sorel he gave no sign of the fact, but it certainly worried the others. She jerked a thumb in my direction. There's always the commissar to get past before you can reach me, of course.'

  'And I'll execute any one of you who even looks like they're thinking of making a run for it/ I promised. I would, too, because they'd have to kill me as well if they were to have a hope of getting away with it, and that would be a highly undesirable outcome from my point of view.

  'Even if you could take us both/ and the amusement was abrupdy gone from her voice, 'and I sincerely doubt that, I've lost count of the number of people I've met who thought they could outrun the Inquisition. But you might as well give it a try if you really want to/ Then the undercurrent of mirth was back in her voice. 'After all, there's a first time for everything/

  I smiled too, to demonstrate my confidence in her, but none of the others did. Sorel nodded, slowly, like a debater conceding a point.

  'Fair enough/ he said.

  * * *

  No one had anything constructive to add, so after a few more desultory questions about the mission parameters (the answers to which all boiled down to 'Emperor only knows' in any case), I led them outside to where Jurgen had a Chimera waiting, its engine running, and tried to look confident. I would have preferred my usual scout Salamander, given the choice, but there wouldn't have been room for the entire team aboard it, and besides, the fully enclosed passenger bay would discourage any last-minute attempts at desertion, or so I hoped.

  'Your equipment's already aboard/ I told them, standing well back until they'd embarked, like an ovinehound shepherding a flock through a gate. (Although the canines tend not to use laspistols to emphasise the point, of course.) Five bundles of kit were waiting for them, each one wrapped in a carapace vest with a name stencilled on it, and they all picked out their own as they boarded.

  'Check it carefully/ Amberley told them. 'If there's anything missing you won't get a chance to come back for it/

  'Discharge papers?' Trebek said, raising a tension-relieving laugh from Velade and Holenbi.

  'Something's wrong here/ Kelp said, shrugging into the body armour. 'It fits. Quartermaster must be slipping/ It was an axiom among the Guard that kit only came in two sizes - too large and too small.

  'I had a word with him/ Amberley said. 'He assured me that there wouldn't be any complaints/

  'I'll just bet he did/ Kelp muttered.

  'Hellguns. Shady!' Velade hefted her new weapon, looking incongruously like a juvie on Emperor's day morning. As a regular line trooper, she was only used to handling a standard-issue lasgun, the more powerful variant normally being reserved for storm-troopers and other special forces. At least her evident enthusiasm for her new toy seemed to be keeping her apprehension in check.

  'Nice/ Kelp agreed, snapping a powercell home with practiced precision.

  "We thought the extra punch might come in handy' I said. Amberley had suggested I replace my battered old laspistol with the handgun version of the heavier weapon, but after some hesitation, I'd demurred. I'd got so used to it over the years that it was more like an extension of my own arm than a weapon, and no amount of added stopping power would compensate for the different weight and feel of a replacement throwing off my instinctive aim. In a firefight, that could mean the difference between life and death.

  I'd grabbed a set of the body armour, though, and wore it now, concealed beneath my uniform greatcoat. It felt a little heavy and uncomfortable, but a lot less so than taking a las-bolt to the chest.

  'It just might/ Trebek agreed. She was busily hanging frag grenades from her body harness. Most of them had a couple, along with smoke canisters, luminators, spare power packs, and all the other odds and ends troopers carry into the field. The exception was Holenbi, who carried a medpack in place of the grenades, but his expertise in battlefield

  medicine made him more valuable patching the others up if the necessity arose. And if it came down to grenades in a confined space, we were pretty much fragged in any case, so a couple more or less wouldn't make any difference.

  'You can take the brute force approach if you like.' Sorel sighted along the length of his long-las, and made a minute adjustment to the targeter. I'd taken the trouble to find the weapon that used to be assigned to him, knowing that a sniper gets as attached to his weapon as I was to my old pistol, and that he would have customised it in a dozen subtle ways to improve its accuracy. 'I've got all the edge I need right here/ He must have realised the strings I'd had to pull to obtain it for him, because he met my eyes at that point and nodded, a barely perceptible thanks. I was astonished. Up until then I'd been convinced he had no emotions at all.

  'Just make sure you keep it pointed in the right direction/ I said, with enough of a smile to take most of the sting out of the warning. It was still there, though, and an expression I couldn't quite identify came close to surfacing on his habitually impassive face.

  'I could use a few more pressure pads/ Holenbi said, inventorying the medkit with the speed of long practice. I gestured to the primary aid box bolted to the Chimera's inner bulkhead.

  'Help yourself/ I invited. He burrowed rapidly through it, scavenging several items which made the bag on his belt bulge, and stowed a few more in

  other pouches and pockets, discarding a couple of ration bars to make room for them.

  'Better eat that/ Velade advised, taking the seat next to him. 'You'll only get hungry later if you leave it/

  'Yeah, right/ he agreed, breaking one in half and offering the rest to her. She took it with a smile, their hands touching for a moment as her fingers closed around it, and Amberley grinned at me.

  'Aww/ she mouthed, her back to them. 'How sweet/

  Maybe to her, I thought, but to me it was little more than another potential complication in a catastrophe just waiting to happen. I quelled my irritation, and picked the remaining bar off the bench.

  'She's got a point/ I split the bar with Amberley. 'Better stock up with carbohydrates while you can. You'll be burning a lot of energy soon enough/

  'You're the expert/ she said, as though anyone else's opinions mattered a damn on this foolhardy expedition. She sniffed at the grey fibrous mass, and bit into it cautiously. 'You people actually eat this frak?'

  'Not if we can help it/ Velade said.

  'Then I'm definitely surviving this/ Amberley swallowed the remains of her ration bar with a grimace of distaste. 'No way that's going to be my last meal/ The troopers all laughed, even Sorel, and I marvelled again at her powers of manipulation.1 By playing the civilian outsider, she'd reinforced their sense of

  1 Coming from Cain, that's a real compliment.

  identity as soldiers with great subtlety. I doubted whether it would be quite enough to weld them into a cohesive unit, but that wasn't really an issue on this assignment. All that was necessary was that they work well enough together to get Amberley the intelligence she required. And me out in one piece, of course.

  There were still far too many weak links for my liking, though. Kelp and Trebek were professional enough to put their rivalries aside for long enough to get the job done, I hoped, especially with an inquisitorial pardon up for grabs, but the way they kept avoiding eye contact with each other was a far from encouraging sign. And whatever was going on between Velade and Holenbi might just be enough for them to put their concern for each other ahead of the mission objective, or the survival of anyone else. Like me. And as for Sorel; well, he flat out gave me the creeps, and I was determined not to let him get anywhere I couldn't keep an eye on him. I'd met psychopaths before, and he had all the hallmarks. He wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice the rest of us to save his own skin, of that I was sure.:

  And then there was Amberley. Charming as I found her, she was still an inquisitor above all else, and that meant that all we were to her was a means to an end. A noble and important one, no doubt, but that

/>   1 An old expression about pots and kettles springs to mind at this point, as well as the saying about taking one to know one…

  would be of little comfort to me when the black bell tolled.1

  So it was little wonder that my palms were tingling as I closed the tail ramp and activated my combead.

  'All right, Jurgen/ I said. We're ready to go.'

  This time, there were no waves and cheers as we left the compound, although I had no doubt that the rumour mill had spread the news of our departure just as far as before. I was quietly relieved by that, to be honest, as this was to be no easy victory for our newly forged regiment to take pride in and celebrate. This would be a desperate struggle for survival, I didn't need my itching palms to tell me that. Although how desperate, and against how terrible a foe, I still at that time had no inkling. (And that was a mercy, let me tell you. If I'd known then what awaited us in the undercity of Mayoh, I would probably have broken down in hysterics from sheer terror.)

  As it was, I masked my concern with the ease of long practice, and kept a stern eye on the troopers, hoping any agitation I felt would be mistaken for vigilance. To my relief they seemed to be settling, focussing more on the mission now that it was underway, and if they weren't exactly on the same wavelength yet, at least they weren't jamming each other.

  1 He is speaking figuratively here, the tolling of the Black Bell of Terra being a well-known soldier's euphemism for death in action. I hardly think he would have expected such an accolade in actual fact!

  That reminded me I hadn't reported our departure to Kasteen yet, so I retuned my combead to the command frequency and exchanged a few words with her. As I'd expected, her mood was sombre, and she wished me luck as though she thought I might actually need it.

  I was beginning to find the tense atmosphere inside the vehicle a little claustrophobic, not to mention being rattled around like a pea in a can by Jurgen's habitual driving style, so I popped the turret hatch and stuck my head out for some fresh air. The sudden rush was invigorating, almost taking my cap with it as I emerged, and I checked the heavy bolter so I'd have an excuse for staying out there for as long as I could. It was primed and ready, of course, Jurgen having done his usual thorough job, so I was able to settle back and enjoy the spectacle of the local civilian traffic swerving out of our way. There seemed to be a lot of it, I noticed, particularly in the main boulevards; but there was no obvious pattern to the movement. There was just as much going in each direction, and when I glanced down the crossways, they all seemed choked as well.

  'Inquisitor/ I subvocalised, switching to the channel Amberley had given me earlier. I hadn't seen any sign of a bead in her ear, but that didn't surprise me. For all I knew, she'd disguised it in some way, or was stuffed with augmetics that did the same job. (And a great many others, as I was to discover over the course of our association.) 'There seems to be a lot of civilian activity. Anything we should be aware of?'

  There was actually a great deal we should have been aware of, of course, the conspiracy we tracked was far more extensive and dangerous than we had imagined, but at that point, I was still blissfully ignorant of how much trouble we were in.

  'Probably lots of things.' Amberley sounded wary, though not particularly concerned. 'But we'll just have to make do with what we know, and proceed with caution.'

  Easier said than done with Jurgen driving, I thought, but she was the expert. I watched as he swerved us around a slow-moving cargo lifter, its flatbed jammed with civilians carrying hastily assembled bundles of possessions. Probably just spooked by our raid on the Heights, but the implications troubled me. I began to look out for similar sights, and found several in the space of a handful of seconds. I voxed Amberley again.

  'It's looking like refugee traffic up here/ I said.

  'Intriguing,' she responded, a note of curiosity entering her voice. 'What would they be fleeing, I wonder?'

  'Nothing good/ I said, speaking from bitter experience, although in truth it wouldn't be that unexpected for anyone who could to be leaving the city by now. The political and military situation was still balanced on a knife-edge, and it wouldn't need someone of Mott's intellect to deduce that things would be a lot healthier somewhere else if it all boiled over. No harm in checking everything, I thought, so I hopped through the tactical frequencies, finding a lot of

  garbled traffic on the PDF net. Very little of it seemed to be making sense, though.

  'Commissar/ Kasteen's voice cut in suddenly. 'I think you should know. We've just had instructions to go to combat readiness/

  Who from?' Amberley interrupted before I could respond. I suppose I might have resented her butting in, let alone monitoring my supposedly secure messages, but right then I was too busy swinging the bolter round and taking the safety off. A thick column of smoke was visible ahead of us, rising from a burning truck in the middle of the road, and the traffic was beginning to stall and gridlock as panicked drivers tried to find a way around it or turn back. Bright las-bolts were scoring the air, but who was shooting and what they were aiming at remained obscured behind the smoke.

  'By order of the governor/ Kasteen said.

  'Imbecile!' Amberley said, along with some qualifying adjectives which I'd last heard in an underhive drinking den when someone turned out to have more than the conventional number of emperors in their tarot deck. I began to suspect that Governor Grice's political future was going to be short and uncomfortable. 'We'll have the tau on our arses like flies round a corpse/

  'I think we already have/ I said. Something was moving inside the smoke, fast and agile, twice the height of a man. It wasn't alone, either. There were more of them moving back there, and the whole pack of them was surrounded by little darting dots. I

  suddenly remembered the flying platters we'd seen at the tau enclave, and that they were armed too.

  Abruptly, unnervingly, the leading dreadnought (the same type El'sorath had called battlesuits) swung its head in our direction, and turned, a pair of long-barrelled weapons mounted on its shoulders coming to bear. We were still a long way away from being an easy target, but I've always been cautious, so I hailed our driver.

  'Jurgen!' I shouted, 'get us out of here!'

  By way of reply, he swung us abruptly towards a narrow alleyway, crushing a raised bed of ornamental shrubs beneath our left-hand tread, and barging a small, sleek groundcar out of the way. The driver's volley of profanity was drowned out by a sudden thunderclap of displaced air as something hit the front of an omnibus right where we'd been a moment before, reducing its entire nose to metallic confetti before raking the length of it, blowing a tangled mass of wreckage, blood and bone out of the back. Before I could see anything more, we were behind the shelter of a building, our hurtling metallic shell gouging lumps out of the walls, our tracks leaving a trail of burst and flattened waste containers in our wake.

  'Emperor's bowels!' I said, stunned by the narrowness of our escape.

  'What was that?' Amberley asked, her voice almost drowned out by the complaints of the troopers around her. I tried to explain the best I could, still shaken by the range and accuracy of the weapon

  deployed against us. 'Sounds like a railgun/ she said, apparently unperturbed. 'Nasty things/

  'Could it have damaged us?' I asked, making sure the spare ammo boxes were in easy reach. There was nothing ahead of us now except more panicking civilians, but I wasn't planning on being taken by surprise twice, you can be sure.

  'Easily' she replied cheerfully. 'Even at that range it could have gutted us like a fish.'

  The Emperor protects/ Jurgen said piously. Well He hadn't done a hell of a lot for the bus passengers, I thought, but decided it wouldn't be tactful to say so. He'd only take it as a sign that we were important to His ineffable plan anyway.

  Who were the tau engaging?' I asked.

  The PDF/ Kasteen said. 'Who else? We're getting reports in that some of the loyalists have mutinied, and opened fire on the tau compound. The diplomats are trying
to calm things, but the bluies are claiming they have a right to retaliate, and have entered the city. They're engaging every PDF unit they come across/

  'What about the Guard?' I asked, already sure I wouldn't like the answer.

  The governor's orders are to contain the situation by any means necessary. The lord general is asking for clarification/ Playing for time, in other words. If the Guard units entered the city, they'd be caught in the middle; with half the PDF unreliable, they'd become a target for both sides. My stomach lurched, and for once, it wasn't due to Jurgen's driving.

  'Well, that's it then/ I said, the words like ashes in my mouth. 'We've run out of time.' The war so many people had sacrificed so much to avoid was upon us at last, and it seemed there wasn't a damn thing we could do about it.

  Editorial Note:

  It goes without saying that the unrest which Cain noticed breaking out across the city was being duplicated to a lesser extent across the whole of Gravalax; although with the bulk of both the Imperial and tau expeditionary forces based arournd the capital, the situation deteriorated further and faster in May oh than anywhere else on the planet. Minor clashes did take place around several of the starports, as both sides realised keeping them open or denying them to the enemy would be vital in either reinforcing or evacuating their forces. For the most part, the warfare was internecine, pro- and anti-xenoist factions within the PDF turning on one another with the terrible ferocity unique to civil war.

  The fottowing extract may prove useful in appreciating the wider picture.

  From Purge the Guilty! An impartial account of the liberation of Gravalax, by Stententious Logar. 085.M42

  Thus it was, spurred by the workings of a vast, malign conspiracy, the entire world was rent asunder in an orgy of fratricide which shames the survivors and their descendents even to the present day. If anything at all can be said to have been learned from these terrible events, it must surely be this; that however benign they may appear, the alien is not to be trusted, and that turning aside from the word of the Emperor in even the smallest respect is the most certain route to damnation for us all.