There was a soft, sifting sound, the sound of sand pouring away onto sand.
Four Astartes, concealed beneath the dunes around them, rose to their feet, the sand sliding off the contours of their armour as if they were rising up out of concealed trap doors.
‘Is this her?’ asked one.
‘Yes, lord,’ Bronzi replied.
Soneka realised that Rukhsana had begun to tremble badly.
‘We’ll take her from here,’ said another of the Astartes.
‘Oh, glory,’ Rukhsana whispered. ‘Please…’
‘It’s all right,’ Soneka told her urgently. He looked at the giant warriors coming towards them. ‘It will be all right, won’t it?’
‘You’ve done your job, friend,’ one of them told him, ‘and we thank you for it. We’ll take it from here.’
‘But—’ Soneka began.
‘We’ll take it from here, operative,’ the giant reassured him. The Astartes put out a huge paw around Rukhsana’s tiny shoulders, and led her away across the sand.
She looked back, once. ‘Peto!’ she called. ‘I’m sorry. I—’ he called out.
But she was gone in the deep shadows of the wadi’s base.
One of the Alpha legionnaires strode over to them. ‘Good work,’ he said. Bronzi nodded.
‘Will she be all right?’ Soneka asked. ‘Of course,’ the Astartes said, his voice deep. ‘She’s with us.’
‘That’s not what I was asking,’ Soneka said. ‘Will we be all right?’ Bronzi asked, looking up at the giant.
‘Did you do what we told you to do?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you use the biometric?’
‘Yes,’ said Soneka.
‘Then stick to the story, and it will be fine,’ replied the legionnaire. ‘Trust me, and thank you.’
He turned to go, and then looked back, his huge form stark in the sunlight. ‘You did the right thing. If things turn bad, we’ll get you out. You’re us now.’
He walked away. In under two minutes, the Alpha legionnaires had vanished into the desert, leaving no trace.
Bronzi looked at Soneka. He grinned, but Soneka could tell the grin was forced. ‘Scary bastards, right?’
‘Scary bastards,’ Soneka agreed. They began to trudge back to the scurrier.
‘Something on your mind?’ Bronzi added.
Soneka shook his head.
‘You don’t like this, do you?’
‘Of course I don’t,’ Soneka said.
THEY GOT BACK into the scurrier and headed back towards the palace. Half a kilometre from the west exit, a shadow flickered across them, and the scurrier’s target alarms started to ping.
‘Scurrier, scurrier,’ the vox crackled. ‘Come to a halt and open hatches. We have you at weapons lock.’
Bronzi threw the leg brakes and killed the spinal drive. The scurrier rocked to a standstill.
‘Get out. On the deck. Now!’ the vox demanded.
Bronzi looked at Soneka. ‘Sure you know how to play this?’ he asked.
Soneka nodded.
They unlocked the hatch and got out, falling on their faces in the glaring sunlight, a few metres from the vehicle with their hands behind their heads. A blizzard of sand was being kicked up around them by a circling Jackal gunship. A second gunship settled nearby on roaring turbofans, like a giant skeletal raven. Its occupants ran towards them.
‘Get up!’
Soneka and Bronzi got up, hands locked behind their necks in submission. Lucifer Blacks surrounded them, weapons aimed. The air was so thick with winnowing dust from the hovering gunship that Bronzi and Soneka were coughing hard.
‘Het Hurtado Bronzi and Het Peto Soneka?’ the nearest Lucifer demanded.
They nodded, hands knotted behind their heads.
‘You are under arrest, by order of the Lord Commander.’
‘Is this about Uxor Rukhsana?’ Bronzi shouted, above the wash of the gunships. ‘Of course it is.’
‘Then can you tell me,’ Bronzi yelled back as the companions started to herd them towards the gunship, ‘where the fug has she gone?’
ELEVEN
Mon Lo Harbour, Nurth, that evening
‘SO?’ ASKED NAMATJIRA, looking up from his desk. ‘We’ve let them both go, sir,’ said Dinas Chayne. ‘Why?’
‘Their story checks out. The hets went looking for Uxor Rukhsana, chasing the same suspicions as us. They got her into a vehicle, to take her away from the palace for private interrogation. The geno like to protect their own, sir.’
Namatjira put the quill he had been using back into its power well, and rose to his feet, tapping his left index finger against his pursed lips. It was a modest gesture, designed to give the impression that he was pondering, but Chayne knew it was a mechanism the Lord Commander employed to curb his temper. He watched as Namatjira wandered towards the chamber window, into the pool of soft light cast by the setting sun. The light made his long, gold-embroidered robe glow.
‘But the vehicle,’ Namatjira asked, ‘wasn’t it swiped out on a blank biometric? To avoid detection?’
Chayne shook his head. ‘The biometric was Bronzi’s. For some reason, it didn’t read cleanly in the scanner. I am advised that this is occurring quite often, scanning glitches, caused by the pervasive dust. Now we’ve checked it, it evidently was Bronzi’s.’
‘And Rukhsana?’ Namatjira asked. He patted his thigh, and his thylacene got up from the rug and trotted over to him. ‘What about her?’
‘She broke free and fled into the dunes.’
‘She broke free from two frontline hets?’
‘I believe they underestimated her resolve, sir,’ said Chayne. ‘When we questioned them, the hets both seemed frankly embarrassed that she had escaped. They were searching for her when we found them.’
‘Do you believe any of this, Dinas?’
‘I have no reason not to, lord. The facts match up perfectly. I wever, I will admit that I am uneasy whenever that happens.’
‘You have them under scrutiny?’
‘Yes, lord.’
Namatjira sank down into a crouch, and tenderly scrunched the thylacene’s ears with both hands. It closed its eyes in pleasure. ‘What about Rukhsana?’
‘We’re questioning her aides, but they don’t seem to have been aware of any indiscretion, and we’re searching for the uxor, obviously.’
‘Can she survive in the desert?’
‘Without supplies or protective clothing, no, not more than a day. I expect all we’ll find of her is her bones.’
BRONZI POURED ZNAPS into two glass cups and handed one to Soneka. Bronzi held out his glass to clink, and Soneka did so reluctantly.
‘Here’s to the skin of our fugging teeth,’ said Bronzi, trying to make light of it. He’d been trying to make light of it for a long time. Soneka’s mood was low, and Bronzi hated that.
‘Here’s to Rukhsana,’ Soneka replied. ‘May some power protect her from the fate we delivered her into.’
Bronzi shrugged, and drank to that instead. ‘They’ll treat her well enough, Peto,’ he said. ‘They only want answers.’
‘They are not sentimental creatures, Hurt,’ Soneka replied. ‘They use any means they can to achieve their goals. They let my Dancers get slaughtered, just to throw the enemy off guard. What on Terra makes you think they’ll use Rukhsana any less clinically?’
Bronzi couldn’t come up with an answer.
Soneka took another sip and regarded his glass. ‘This comes so easily to you, doesn’t it, Hurt? Why is that?’
Bronzi sniffed. ‘I don’t know. It’s the Astartes, I suppose. To be chosen by them, to be singled out by them for service, that’s an honour in my book. The Astartes are the image of the Emperor, whom I adore, and to whose work I have devoted my life. To serve them is to serve Him. There is no finer duty.’
‘Whatever happened,’ Soneka asked, ‘to Company first, Imperium second, geno before gene?’
Bronzi made a sour face, and lifted h
is meaty shoulders. ‘That’s just something we say, isn’t it?’
‘I thought it was something we believed,’ Soneka replied.
Bronzi finished his drink and poured another. ‘The Emperor is the Emperor,’ he said, ‘and the Astartes are his chosen, the brightest and the best. I’m comfortable working for them.’
‘Provided they’re on our side,’ said Soneka.
Bronzi snorted. ‘What does that mean?’
Soneka shook his head. ‘Nothing. I have a gut dislike of this sordid intrigue, Hurt. I’m a soldier, not a spy, and lately I’ve been wondering which of those words best describes the Alpha Legion.’
Bronzi shook his head and decided it was high time to change the subject. He looked Soneka up and down, approvingly.
‘Formal looks good,’ he said.
‘Been a while,’ Soneka replied, adjusting the cuff of his dress uniform. ‘When are you off?’
‘Ten, fifteen minutes.’
‘The Clowns are lucky to have you,’ said Bronzi.
The chamber door behind them opened without any knock. Mu marched in, followed by Franco Boone.
‘Drink?’ Bronzi asked lightly. She glared at them both. Boone walked past Mu and helped himself.
‘That was your idea of delicate, was it?’ Mu asked.
‘Well, we proved she was up to something, didn’t we?’ Bronzi answered.
‘You were arrested and interrogated by the Lucifers,’ Mu growled.
‘Who, please remember, let us go without charge,’ Bronzi countered.
‘How did Rukhsana escape?’ Mu asked.
‘How would you have escaped us, Honen?’ Bronzi asked playfully. ‘Because, you know you would have.’
Mu hesitated.
‘Uxors can be quite tenacious when they want to be,’ Bronzi continued, taking the bottle out of Boone’s hand and pouring himself another drink.
‘Have you come to arrest me?’ Soneka asked the genewhip, ‘Or can I go meet my new unit?’
‘You’re all right,’ Boone said. ‘I’d have liked a cleaner end to this matter, but it’s worked out decently. Rukhsana was a bad seed, but the Chiliad has saved face.’
‘How?’ asked Mu, in a mocking tone.
‘These two were caught in the art of chasing her,’ Boone said levelly, knocking back his drink, ‘clear proof that we were trying to clean our own house and root out corruption. In the circumstances, their arrest was probably the best thing that could have happened. It may have been by accident or downright incompetence, but Bronzi and Soneka have protected our regimental reputation.’
‘Company first, Imperium second, geno before gene,’ Bronzi chuckled. Soneka shot him a hard look.
‘What?’ asked Bronzi.
Soneka put down his glass and lifted his pack. ‘I have to go,’ he said.
‘I’ll walk you down,’ Mu said.
‘March in fortune, Peto, and take the Clowns with you,’ said Bronzi.
Soneka nodded, and left the chamber with Mu.
‘Fancy another?’ Bronzi asked Boone.
Boone stared back at the het, hard-eyed. ‘Pius? He’s clean?’
‘As the proverbial,’ Bronzi replied. ‘Whoever Rukhsana was in bed with, he was playing games with you. A subliminal veil, a mind trick, maybe? I don’t know. Pius is solid.’ Bronzi waggled the bottle. ‘So?’
‘Go on then,’ said Boone.
THEY WALKED DOWN into a lower courtyard where the last of the Dancers were waiting beside a fat-wheeled transport in what remained of the daylight. Soneka nodded to Lon, and let Shah take his bag and stow it in the transport’s panniers. The driver started up the truck’s engine.
‘Is there anything you’re not telling me, Peto?’ Mu asked, looking up into his face.
‘Like what?’
She shrugged. ‘Hurtado is a rogue, and I wouldn’t put anything past him, but you, het, you’re as straight as a die. You always have been. I don’t believe you’re capable of subterfuge. If you are, it must come with effort, so spare yourself that effort. Is there anything?’
‘No. No, not at all.’
She nodded. ‘Good. Get on your way. Whip the Clowns into shape, and march in fortune. I’ll look for your preliminary report tomorrow.’
‘Yes, uxor.’
‘If they give you any grief, call me in to straighten them out.’
‘Thank you. It won’t be necessary.’
‘Don’t let the Dancers haunt you, Peto,’ she said. ‘You’re not carrying some curse that will infect the Clowns too. New start, fresh page. Get the Old Hundred fit, and ready for the hell that’s about to break.’
‘I will.’
Mu smiled. She paused, and then stood up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘I know you will,’ she said.
Soneka climbed into the transport, and it rolled away down the yard towards the gate.
The tiny, childlike figure of Honen Mu stood in the lengthening shadows and watched until it was out of sight.
‘SO WE’RE CLOWNS now, are we?’ asked Lon over the grumble of the transport’s engine.
‘Seems so,’ said Soneka. They rocked in their seats as the vehicle lurched along the uneven track.
‘You all right there, het?’ asked Shah.
‘Yes,’ said Soneka. ‘Why?’
‘You keep rubbing at your hip. You got a sweat sore or a dust blister?’
‘No,’ Soneka said, shaking his head. ‘It’s just this damn formal jacket chafing.’
Soneka turned aside and looked out of the dirty window vent at the passing desert, which was staining with a startling maroon hue as the sun finally slipped out of the sky.
The hydra brand on his hip was still raw and fresh.
THE CAVE WAS cool, and remarkably angular. Rukhsana presumed it had been cut out of the rock with meltas or some kind of precision drill. It was a cube, ten metres by ten, lit by a series of lumen orbs placed around the base of the walls. The light they gave out splashed up the dark walls and made her feel as if she was under water or on some airless moon. The air smelled of dust and cold stone. The air smelled of hopelessness.
She was shivering and terrified, and the terror magnified her body’s reactions, reinforcing the drop in its core temperature. She tried to slow her breathing.
They had seated her on a wooden stool, her hands cuffed behind her back, in the middle of the cave. Then they had left her alone.
It felt as if hours had passed, but she suspected that it was merely a few minutes.
A figure came in through the cave’s only egress.
He was larger than it was possible for any regular human male, a giant: an Astartes giant. He was dressed in a simple dark bodyglove that somehow emphasised his huge build and muscular strength more pointedly than any suit of power armour could have. His head was bare, noble, hairless, powerful, copper-skinned. His eyes were as bright as a sapphire sky.
He came across the cave floor slowly, and stood in front of her. She looked up at him.
‘Uxor Rukhsana Saiid?’ he asked. The sound of his voice made her think of slow, glowing embers. His words issued as gently as honey dripping from a spoon.
‘Yes.’
‘I am Alpharius, Primarch of the Alpha Legion.’
‘I know who Alpharius is,’ she replied, feeling a tremor of panic in her chest that she could barely control.
‘Do you know why you’re here?’ he asked. She nodded. ‘Say why, please.’
‘Konig Heniker,’ she said. ‘You’re looking for Konig Heniker, and you think I know where he is.’
‘Do you, uxor?’
She shook her head, dearly wishing her hands were free so that she could press them against her chest and persuade her heart to slow down.
‘We’ll see. Do you know what Konig Heniker’s real name is?’
Rukhsana looked up at the giant sharply.
‘I see you do not. No one could fake a response like that. Your beloved Konig’s real name is John Grammaticus.’
‘John?’
/>
‘Grammaticus. John Grammaticus. What about the Cabal, uxor? What do you know of the Cabal?’
‘I don’t know what that is,’ she replied.
‘I see you do. Just as you couldn’t have faked the first response, you couldn’t conceal the second. You know about the Cabal.’
Rukhsana bit her lip. ‘He mentioned it, that’s all.’
Alpharius stared down at her. His expression was almost benign. ‘Help me help you, uxor. Where is Konig Heniker?’
‘I don’t know, I really don’t. He was with me for a while, but he vanished, yesterday, just after the Grand Welcome. I don’t know where he is.’
‘We’ll see,’ said Alpharius. He nodded. A much smaller, robed figure entered the chamber and came to stand at the primarch’s side. Rukhsana blinked and tried to focus. Though she could see the robed figure plainly, she could not resolve its face.
‘This is Shere,’ said Alpharius. ‘He will help you exorcise your doubts.’
‘Brace yourself,’ he added.
THE CENTRAL SECURITY centre of the terracotta palace was a large, low ceilinged chamber filled with whirring and flashing cogitators, and bustling adepts. The heat-stink of the machines was acrid and harsh. Cooling systems had been rigged along the walls.
At nightfall, the duty rotated. Adepts arrived in their russet cloaks, and took over from the rostered operators on duty, signing in their biometrics as they took over machine stations.
He sat down at his appointed machine, his biometric accepted. The departing operator he was replacing bade him goodnight.
‘Salutation, Adept Ahrum,’ the screen display read.
That was good. That’s who he was.
Adept Ahrum typed in his access codes. Data flowed in a sudden gush across his lithographic screen. He pulled his russet robe closer, and leaned in to study the graphics.
‘Attend!’ the senior adept on the chamber’s central dais cried out, and all the operators stiffened.
‘Carry on,’ said Dinas Chayne as he walked into the room and went to join the senior.
Adept Ahrum risked a glance over his shoulder. Chayne stood in quiet discussion with the senior adept on the dais. He was barely five metres away.
Adept Ahrum decided to continue with his work.
He typed quickly, using his stolen biometric clearance to pull up confidential material. Uxor Rukhsana… official scrutiny… actions of the Lucifer Blacks in the last fifteen hours…