They walked in through the scattered wreckage. Antoni gazed up at the charred hull sections and bent bulkheads embedded in the earth. Small pieces of metal and strange, polished machine components glittered in the thick soot underfoot.
The air was very cold, but Antoni felt warm, almost feverish. She loosened her shirt again. She was perspiring.
The giant stopped, and walked back to her. He opened a compartment on his back and produced a small injector.
'Expose your arm,' he said.
What for?'
'I need to give you a shot. This area is irradiated very badly. You need this, or you'll suffer the consequences of exposure.'
Antoni wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but it sounded grave, so she rolled up her sleeve. The shot felt like a pinch. She rubbed the tiny bruise it left on her pale skin.
'Don't you need it?' she asked.
'I'll be fine.'
'But you carry it because-'
Til be fine. My body is... made differently to yours.'
What about the dog?' she asked.
He smiled slightly. 'Dogs are resilient.'
They walked a little way further.
'I should warn you,' he said, 'about the shot. It might make you a little sick.'
'Sick?'
'Just woozy, probably. That'll pass. If you feel too ill, tell me. It affects people in different ways.'
Antoni felt perfectly fine, but the thought alarmed her. She so hated being sick, especially in front of anyone.
'Look there.’ he said abruptly.
Ahead, through the mist, a large shape loomed, like the buttress of a castle. Antoni blinked, finding it hard to focus suddenly. It was part of the ship, some section or compartment pod that had remained largely intact. It looked like half a dozen giant seed cases fused together.
'The main habitat section.’ said the giant. 'Well armoured, self-sealing. That's why they survived the crash.'
Antoni nodded. She was rather more concerned that there was something wrong with her balance. She'stumbled slightly.
'I think-' she began.
The first stomach cramp took her off guard. She gasped and fell to her knees. The pain ebbed away, but she was too dizzy to get up again.
'Primary clerk?' the giant said, coming back to her.
'Away! Look away! Look away!' she gurgled, realising what was coming next. A hot rush of vomit hosed out of her. She gagged and retched.
'Don't look at me!' she cried, and was sick a second time.
'That's normal...' the giant said.
'Not for me! Look away, Throne damn you!' Frowning, he obeyed. She was sick several more times until her insides were empty. That left her feeling weak and shaking. The force of the vomit had been so great that it had splashed onto her shirt. She was seized with embarrassment.
'Let me help clean you-'
'No!'
She got up, then sat down hurriedly on a heat-folded stanchion. She was mortified by the mess she had made, and the smell of the mess. She opened her case, took out a water bottle and swigged from it, trying to rinse her mouth and throat. A second later, the water came up too.
'Oh Throne...' she groaned, head bent forward. 'What have you done to me?'
'Saved your life.’ the giant said, studiously standing with his back to her, 'from tumours and leukogens and a number of other abominable things that would have made your latter days unbearable. But I appreciate this moment is unpleasant.'
Antoni would have retorted if she hadn't been so busy dry-heaving. Princeps looked at her, head on one side, worried and confused.
'Can you move on?' the giant asked.
Antoni half articulated a sound that she had intended to be an angry 'No'.
'Well, I have to. Dog-'
The giant looked at Princeps. He said nothing, nor made any gesture, but the dog immediately trotted round and sat down at Antoni's side, head up and alert.
'I'll be back in a short while.’ the giant said.
'Unarmed!' Antoni moaned, clutched her cramping stomach and looking up at him.
"What?'
'I'm unarmed!'
The giant paused, then came over to her. He produced a large, heavy object from his kit and held it out. 'This is all I can give you. All that I have that you might even manage to lift. Treat it with respect. It's a grenade.’
'Show me how it works.’ she gasped.
'Push in the nipple here. See? Then throw it. You'll have three seconds. Throw it hard and get down anyway. This is not a subtle weapon. Do you understand?'
Involuntarily, she threw up again, this time on his massive boots.
'Sorry...'
'Do you understand?'
'Yes.’
'Best of all, don't use it. Don't use it at all. This is a last resort. All right?'
She nodded and took the heavy munition, clutching it to her belly.
'A last resort.’
'All right, all right! Go away before I'm sick again.’
'I'll be five minutes.’ he promised.
He vanished into the smoky vapour. She sat on the piece of wreckage, hugging her stomach and rocking back and forth. Bilious waves washed across her and made her gag.
Princeps stayed at her side, head cocked.
Suddenly, the attack dog got up, staring at the main section of the wreck. A second later, the sound of shots echoed from the vast hulk. Two or three shots at first, then several sustained bursts that reverberated like a rock-drill. Princeps whined. Through the intermittent shooting, Antoni could hear blunt, buzzing noises, like a flaring rip-saw eating into soft lumber.
She wanted to get up, but her legs were jelly Head spinning, she sat back down and was sick again. By now the retching was painful.
The sounds of warfare ceased. Silence returned to the gloomy, burnt valley. The sky was growing dark overhead, adding to the forlorn sense of doom and desolation.
Princeps growled.
Something was moving, off to their left. It was coming towards them. Blinking, trying to clear her head and her vision, Antoni tried to make it out.
'Iron Snake?' she called, her voice hoarse.
A figure came out of the dark towards them, drawn by her voice. It wasn't the giant.
The primul was limping, blood streaming from a puncture in its glossy black thigh armour. It was labouring with a heavy casket, an open strongbox that it needed both hands to support. When it saw her, it dropped the casket into the ash on the ground. The casket rocked over as it landed, and spilled out its contents. Antoni simply stared at what had slid out into the soft, white powder. It was a jaw bone, a huge, stained jaw bone, caked brown with a lho-smoke sheen. It reminded her at once of the jaw bone she had dug out of the burned soil at Peros, but this was so much bigger. It had belonged to a giant, not a giant like the Iron Snake, but a real giant, a monster. The teeth, those which remained in their rotting peg-holes, were broad and flat, like chisel blades, broken and discoloured. Pieces of rusting metal plate were screwed into one side of the jaw, around the hinge.
Antoni looked up slowly from the strange treasure and met the piercing, malevolent gaze of the primul. It leered at her, hungry, excited. Perhaps it saw a chance here, a hostage, a bartering piece for its own miserable life.
'What is that?' she asked.
'Whar tizz hhat?' it replied, echoing her sounds without understanding them. Its voice was like a knife on a whetstone. It took a limping step forward. Whar tizz hhat?' it giggled. With its right hand, it slid a hooked blade from a sheath at its waist.
'No closer, you hear?' she called out. She tried to stand.
It said something back at her in its own tongue, something brittle and sharp.
'Damn you, no closer, I said!' she cried. Princeps had sunk low, growling, his back ridged.
She got up, intending to show the fiend her weapon, but the grenade tumbled out of her weak hands and landed in front of her with a thump.
The primul raised its eyebrows as it saw what lay on the ground. It
cocked its head, like a dog.
Antoni dived for the grenade, and the primul did too. She got there first, but it smashed into her, scrabbling. She could smell the animal stink of it, the body heat, the strange, musky scent of its alien flesh. It was fast, and vicious, and dreadfully strong. Its armour was like silk, impossible to grab. It punched her hard, and she cried out as she felt a rib snap. The primul grabbed her by the hair, wrenched her head back, and raised its hooked blade to slice open her throat.
Princeps's powerful bite closed around the raised wrist and the primul yowled. Princeps was making a fluid throat noise, a growl-rattle, his mouth full, his jaws vicing. The primul kicked at him, pulling harder on Antoni's hair, drawing her round. She shrieked as her broken rib twisted and ground. The pain made her lose all control. She threw up again, a violent spatter of acid bile, right in the primul's face.
The primul let her go, spitting and cursing. Antoni rolled clear. The primul kicked Princeps off him and got up, wiping his face.
Antoni ended up face down in the ash. She realised she had the grenade in her hand.
She got up, holding the grenade out in her left fist, her fingers clenched around its heavy form.
'Get back!' she warned the creature.
It spat again, wiping flecks of her bile off its alabaster cheek.
'No closer!' she cried again, brandishing the grenade, squeezing it tightly. There was a tiny click.
Antoni realised that she had squeezed the trigger. The primul had heard the click too. Its eyes went very wide.
She hurled the grenade right at it, even though it was standing in front of her. The primul dodged, cat-like, and the grenade sailed past its left shoulder and landed in the open casket behind it.
Antoni began to turn and dive.
The world unfolded, like a blooming flower. Light hit her, solid like a wall, and carried her far away.
XI
She came to. The blast had thrown her several metres, and the back of her clothes was scorched. There was a wretched smell of fyceline and burned flesh in the air. Smoke gusted around her. She rolled over. Princeps licked her face.
'Stop that.’ she wheezed, her throat seared by the heat.
Princeps nuzzled her instead. She could smell the wet dog smell of the High Legislator's apartments and singed fur.
'Are you all right?' she asked the dog, sitting up and suddenly feeling stupid that she'd asked an animal a question.
Patches of his coat were burned, but Princeps was intact. So was she.
She got up.
The primul lay on the ground, mangled and torn. It had lost the better part of both legs and one arm. Fused bones protruded from the shattered armour and blistered, tattered meat. The white ash around was stained almost black with its blood. Weakly, it raised its narrow, lean head and looked at her. Its white flesh was spattered with crimson blood. One of its leering eyes had burst.
It looked around, its head unsteady, and saw the casket. Nothing remained of the box itself – just a wide, smouldering crater in the ground where the ash of the forest inferno had been blown back to expose a bowl of seared, raw earth. The jaw-bone had also been destroyed. All that remained were a few of the chisel teeth, littered on the ground, steaming.
The primul began to laugh. It was a screeching, baying sound, broken by choking rattles as blood filled its throat.
What are you laughing at?' she demanded. 'What?'
It didn't answer. It just continued to laugh, the sound echoing up into the darkness of the dead valley.
It was still laughing when the giant reappeared and silenced it with a shot to the head.
XII
Antoni didn't remember much about the journey back to Fuce. The giant had given her some drug to dampen the pain, and it made her drowsy. Fatigue did the rest. She remembered the motion of the land speeder, the back-echo of its damaged engines rattling off the twilight woods they passed. The giant said nothing.
Once, she woke, and saw a huge sky full of stars like sequins. One of them was Ithaka, she supposed.
When she woke again, it was cold. They were no longer moving. Voices were calling for a doctor, and by the light of jostling lanterns, she saw the stone walls of the High Legislator's palace.
She didn't wake again until dawn, though which dawn, she couldn't say. She was in her own bed in the palace apartments. Her torso was tightly wound with bandages. A nurse in a starched white wimple, who had been sitting watch at her bedside, got up and went to fetch the doctor.
The doctor told her that her injury was troubling, but not critical. He was generally concerned for the state of her health. Her blood-work had shown curious levels of various substances, and-
'Where is the giant?' she asked.
She was told that he was making ready to depart. Antoni felt a little aggrieved that he hadn't seen fit to speak to her before leaving. At her insistence, a messenger was sent down into the state park.
'You sent for me?' asked the giant.
And you came.’ she replied. Despite the doctor's protests, she had risen from her bed and was sitting in a high backed chair in the Legislator's solar. 'And now you're leaving, so I presume the matter is done with.'
'It is, primary clerk.’ he replied.
Will you sit?' she asked, gesturing to another chair.
'I would break that.’ he admitted.
'So the matter is done with?'
As I said. The area is cleansed to my satisfaction. I have left instructions with the troop master here, however. The area must be contained. No one must go there. It's not a matter of superstition.’
'Contamination?'
'Just so. I have noted the proscribed region on your charts. It must be a civil edict, well enforced. The rural workers must not be allowed to venture back into that place, for the sake of their lives.’
'It may not be a matter of superstition.’ she said, 'but superstition will help. How long must the region remain closed?'
'Forever.’ he said.
'Surely-'
'The contamination will linger for a long while, longer than you can measure or judge. Forever is the simplest way to consider it.’
'The Legislature of Baal Solock is indebted to you. We should mark this occasion with a feast day or a pageant-'
'There's no need. Besides, your city is empty. It will take a while, I should think, for the people to return to their homes from hiding. I thank you for the thought, but I must go.’
Antoni looked crestfallen. 'If you must, then. But I will have to compose a report for the High Legislator. He will want to know everything about these events, in all detail. You said your name was Priad?'
'Yes.’
'And what rank are you? A general? A warmaster?'
The giant shook his head. 'I hold the honourable rank of brother.’
'Brother? Like a monk? I see. But you are a commander of men, surely?'
'No, primary clerk. I am a brother-warrior, an Iron Snake. I am proud to be a member of Damocles squad.’
Antoni was confused. 'You are just a warrior?'
'Just an ordinary warrior. A year ago, I was simply a petitioner, working to prove my worth for inclusion into the phratry. I won a place in Damocles, and with them I have seen action three times. My squad sergeant, Raphon, selected me for this mission. He saw it as an opportunity to test my abilities on an individual undertaking.’
He saw the look in her eyes. 'I'm sorry if I disappoint you, primary clerk. The Chapter certainly intends Baal Solock no slight by sending a junior brother such as myself. It is the way we do things.’
And one warrior usually suffices.’ she said. 'That's what you told me, wasn't it? I'm not disappointed. I think it will make my report rather more exceptional. If just one "ordinary" warrior can accomplish what you have done, then what must...'
Antoni let the thought hang. She adjusted the way she was sitting to make her aching ribs more comfortable. 'What was that thing? That jawbone?'
'I didn't see it. From the
description you gave to me, some trophy of war, something precious to the primuls. It's lost to them now.’
'Not quite.’ she said. A small dish sat on the side table at her left hand. In it lay two dirty, peg-like teeth. She had picked them up from the ashy ground and saved them.
He nodded. 'They are your trophy now, then, primary clerk. A trophy for a killer of primuls.'
'I hardly think-' she began, with a laugh.
'Be well, primary clerk. May the Emperor protect your world and your people.'
'Well, if he chooses not to, I know where to come.'
The next day, in a foggy grey dawn like the one that had greeted him, the giant took his leave. The roar of his vessel's engines echoed out across the water meadows and the state park, and rattled casements in the palace of the High Legislator.
Dressed in a long gown, and leaning heavily on a knurled cane, Antoni stood at one of the high windows in the west wing and watched the white-hot star of thrusters rise up, pearlescent, through the grey mist and slowly disappear into the sky.
Then she limped away down the empty hallway with the black dog padding obediently at her heels.
Part Two
Black Gold
Undertaking To Rosetta
I
The flask is tubular, copper, banded with straps of dull zinc. Brother Memnes draws it from a sheath strapped to the thigh-plate of his Mark VII power armour.
This is the Rite of the Giving of Water, and none will look away. Nine armoured warriors, the entire assault squad, surround the kneeling Apothecary as he unscrews the stopper, then tips a few drops out onto his segmented glove. Their armour is gunmetal grey, edged with white and red, and the desert has coated them all with a film of white dust. The threads of water make stark black streaks on the dusty metal of his gauntlet's fingers. As the brothers intone the sacred rite, voices toneless as they rasp out through visor speakers, Memnes dribbles the water onto the rock he has chosen. In a second, the suns have baked it away to nothing, but the rite is nevertheless made. Water has been given, precious drops from the raging salt oceans of their homeworld, Ithaka.