He told us plenty. Isolation does terrible things to men's minds.
We couldn't shut him up. I finally left him with Maxilla. Maxilla could talk too.
Medea and I went to the station's central hub to see if the resident astropath had received any messages for us from Gideon. It was a dismal place of rotting and poorly maintained hallways and dark hangars. There was a background smell that I decided was spoiled meat and Medea maintained was stale lactose.
It turned out that, despite Okeen's non-stop chatter, there was one thing he hadn't told us.
Someone was waiting for us in the recreation lounge.
'Gregor.' Fischig rose to his feet from a threadbare couch. He was dressed in black with a waist-length shipboard cape of dark red, wire-shot fully that was secured at his throat with a small, silver Inquisitorial crest.
I faced him across the room. "What are you doing here, Godwyn?'
'Waiting for you, Gregor. Waiting for a chance to make things right.'
'And how do you propose doing that?'
He shrugged. It was an open, relaxed, almost apologetic gesture. 'I said things I shouldn't have. Judged you too quickly. I always was a hard-nosed idiot. You'd think my years of service with you might have taught me the error.'
'You'd think/ quipped Medea.
I held up a warning finger to silence her. 'You made your feelings perfectly clear on Hubris, Fischig. I'm not sure we can work together any more. There's a mutual lack of trust/
'Which I want to do away with/ he said. I'd never heard him so calm or sincere.
'Godwyn, you questioned my purity, branded some of my actions heretical and then offered to redeem me/
'I was drank for that last part/ he said, with a tiny flash of smile.
'Yes, you were. And what are you now?'
'Here. Willing. Reconciled/
'Well/ I said. 'Let's start with the "here" part. How the hell did you know I'd be here?'
He paused. I looked round slowly at Medea who was studying the deck.
'You told him where I'd be, didn't you?'
'Uhm...'
'Didn't you?'
She snapped round to face me, every bit as haughty and rebellious as her dear, damned father. 'All right, I did! Okay? We need Fischig-'
'Maybe we don't, girl.'
'Don't "girl" me, you bastard! He's one of us. One of the band. He kept sending to the ship. Sending and sending. You wouldn't listen to him, so I replied.'
'Nayl told me he'd sent one message.'
'Yeah/ she said snidely. 'And Nayl told me what you'd sent back. The big brush-off. To a man who's devoted his life to you. A man who got a bit angry with you and then thought about it and regretted it. Fischig wants to make amends. He wants to be with us again. Haven't you ever regretted anything?'
'More than you can possibly imagine, Medea. But you should have told me.'
'I asked her not to/ Fischig said. 'I imagined how you'd react. I'm grateful Medea thought so highly of me. Could you not find it in you to trust me again? Trust me like she does?'
'Quite possibly. But I wanted to do it on my terms, when I was ready. There's too much going on just now/
'Oh, come on/ implored Medea.
'How did you get here?' I asked Fischig sharply.
'I got passage on a tramp trader. It dropped me off here a week ago/
I'd asked the question so I could test his reply and get a measure of his veracity. As he answered, and I probed delicately out with my mind, I found the last thing I was expecting.
'Why are you psi-shielded?' I asked.
'Just a precaution/ he said.
Against what?' I demanded.
Against this moment/ Fischig said. There was true anguish in his eyes. He drew the compact bolt pistol out from under his cape.
'Fischig!' Medea howled in horror.
Barbarisater was already in my hands, humming. 'Don't be a fool/ I said.
He'd only be a fool if he was doing this alone.
The words were not vocal. They were burning wires of psychic venom wrapped around a monstrous cudgel of mental force that smashed into the back of my skull. I stumbled forward, half-blind. Medea fell over hard, totally unconscious.
I saw figures emerging from the doorways off the lounge space all around. Five, six, more. Men dressed in the hooded, burgundy armour of an inquisitor's personal retinue, their chest plates decorated with gold leaf in the form of the Inquisition's crest. Two of them grabbed me and ripped the force sword from my slack fingers. The others aimed their weapons at me.
Don t hurt him! Don't hurt him!' Fischig cried.
The guards dragged me round to face an individual emerging from the lounge's greasy kitchenette area. I saw a tall man in black armour and robes, with a monstrous face that had been surgically deformed to inspire fear and loathing. It was equine, snouted, with a mouth full of blunt teeth and dark pools for eyes. Fibre-wire and fluid-tubes formed gleaming ropes across the back of his skull.
He'd once been the pupil and interrogator of my old, long-dead ally Commodus Voke. Now he was an inquisitor in his own right.
'Eisenhorn. How simply vile to see you again/ said Golesh Constantine Pheppos Heldane.
The guards dragged Medea and me back on board the Essene. I was still dazed. I could hear Fischig begging Heldane to order his men to be more careful with us.
Oh, what a mistake Fischig had made.
As we were bundled through the stations docking gantries, I saw the sleek black shape of an Inquisitorial cruiser now occupying the dock station next to the Essene. Heldane's ship. It had probably lain concealed in the atmosphere of the gas giant until the trap was sprang.
They took us into the main stateroom. Heldane's men, and I guessed there must have been a full detachment, had secured the Essene.
'How many travellers with you?' Heldane snapped at me.
I made no answer.
'How many?' he repeated, following his words with a blade of psi-pain that made me cry out. I needed to concentrate. I needed to rebuild my mental defences.
Feigning injury, I looked around and took stock. Maxilla stood nearby, surrounded by guards, glowering. Eleena was sitting bolt upright and pale on a couch. Medea was sprawled on the floor, just waking up. There was no sign of Aemos or Kara.
'Four!' said Maxilla. These four. The rest are my crew, servitors all of them, slaved into my ship/ He was playing the part of the innocent shipmaster, outraged at the invasion of his vessel, distancing himself from his troublesome passengers. But I knew he was frightened.
You're lying. I can tell/ said Heldane, pacing round Maxilla. Your defences are good, I'll grant you that, ship-master. Don't lie to me/
'I'm not-' Maxilla began and then cried out in pain.
'Don't lie to me!'
'Leave him alone!' Fischig boomed. 'He's just the captain. The ship-master, like you said. He's not part of this/
Heldane looked round at Fischig with a withering stare. You made this happen, chastener. You came to the ordos and begged us to save your dear, heretical master from damnation. Well, that's what I'm doing. So shut your mouth and let me get on with it. Or would you rather I probed the minds of these delicious young ladies?'
'No.'
'Good. Because the ship-master is rather interesting. He's not altogether human, is he? Are you, Tobias Maxilla? Your defences are admirable, but only because your brain isn't entirely organic. You're so much a machine, sir, you hardly deserve the title "man", do you?' 'Look who's talking/ Maxilla said bravely.
I felt the psi-surge from across the room and it made me wince. Hel-dane's inhuman features folded into an angry, animal roar and Maxilla stumbled, cried out and fell to his knees, showers of sparks exploding from burned-out servos in his neck, right shoulder and right wrist.
'Now will you answer, metal man/ Heldane leered at Maxilla, 'or shall I burn out another part of your blasphemous body?' 'There are five/1 said loudly. 'Five of us/
'Aha. .. the heretic speaks/ Heldane s
witched round to face me, his attention drawn from Maxilla, at least for a moment.
'The other member of my party is my savant, Aemos. I'm sure you remember him. He's in the infirmary/
'How very obliging of you, Gregor/ Heldane said. I prayed that I had outwitted him. Heldane could undoubtedly feel from our minds that someone was missing. If I showed him Aemos, I hoped he would be satisfied and miss Kara entirely. 'I would advise you to leave him there/ 'Why?'
'He... there was an accident/1 said. 'He is damaged/ damaged?' 'No. He will recover/
'But he is infirm because of contact with the warp?' 'No!'
Heldane turned to a couple of his men. 'Go to the infirmary. Locate this man. Kill him and incinerate his remains/ 'God-Emperor, no!' I cried.
I tried to get up, tried to reach out with my mind to wrest Barbarisater from Heldane's hands. I was too weak and he was too strong. Another psychic assault smashed me to the floor.
'Is everything all right?' a new voice asked. 'There was a lot of unseemly shouting just then/ 'Everything's fine, my lord. Welcome aboard/1 heard Heldane say. I rolled over and saw the newcomer enter the Essene's stateroom. He was resplendant in his brass power-armour, his augmetic jaw as stubbornly set as the last time I had seen him. 'Osma. ..' I whispered. 'Grand Master Osma of the Ordos Helican, if you don't mind/ he said
sourly.
He had been elevated. Orsini was dead and Leonid Osma had finally achieved the rank he had spent his life chasing. So much had happened in the Helican sub-sector since I had become preoccupied with mnning and staying alive. Osma, my nemesis, the man who had once tried to have me declared
extremis diabolus and who had imprisoned me, tortured and hunted me, had now become the master of the Ordos Helican and my supreme overlord.
The guards dragged me up onto the mezzanine area of the Essene's stateroom and sat me in one of the chairs facing the long banquet table. They stood back, and Osma and Heldane approached. Osma was holding Barbarisater and studying the intricate workings of the blade. His own huge power hammer was anchored to his belt.
Heldane sat down facing me.
There's no love lost between us, Eisenhorn. I won't insult you by pretending there is. Make things easy for all of us. Confess/
'Confess what?'
'Your heresy/ said Osma.
'I am not a heretic. And this is not a tribunal of my peers. I cannot be judged so/
I knew damn well I could. Grand master or no grand master, Osma could deal with me however the hell he wanted.
'Confess/ he said again, sitting down in the seat next to Heldane with a whine of armour servos. He really was fascinated by Barbarisater, turning it over in his gauntleted hands.
'Confess what?'
'We have a list of charges/ Heldane said, producing a data-slate from his cloak. 'Your man Fischig was very specific about his concerns. You have consorted with daemons and conjured one of them as a daemonhost on more than one occasion. You have hidden proscribed texts from the Inquisition. You have shielded a known heretic from the Inquisition and allowed him to roam free/
I fixed Heldane with a hard stare. 'You mean Pontius Glaw? I'll admit nothing, but I'll tell you this much. If you detain me here, you'll pay a much greater price than you can ever imagine. I am sworn to stop Pontius Glaw and you are preventing me from performing my holy duties/
Your days of performing holy duties are long gone/ said Osma.
Where is the Malus CodiciumV Heldane asked.
I toughened my mind shield, hoping against hope that the simple surface truth would not get out. In my pocket. In my damn pocket. Your men searched me for weapons but they didn't bother about a battered old book in my coat.
Heldane didn't read it/ 'He's still wonderfully resilient/ he told Osma.
They were assuming the Codicium would be in a secure place. A void safe, a strong box, under my damn mattress! They had no idea it would be right there in front of them, covered only by a layer of leather coat. I had to keep that simple, stupid fact from them.
'Millions will die. Tens of millions perhaps. If you don't let me finish my work/
'That's what they all say/ said Osma. He rose and leaned over at me, his blunt, grizzled face looming close. 'You're going to burn, Eisenhorn. Burn
and suffer. I am only grand master today because I have never suffered heretics like you. You are the worst kind of fool/
'Tell us about the daemonhost/ said Heldane. Where is it secured? How can we find it? What are its command words?'
'Command words?' I replied. 'Why would you need those? Do you intend to control the daemonhost yourself?'
Heldane sat back and glanced at Osma.
'Of course they don't!' said Fischig, who had been lurking on the mezzanine steps. 'They're not heretics like you... they wouldn't-'
He looked round at Osma and Heldane.
You don't want the daemonhost, do you, masters?'
'It must be contained and dealt with,' said Osma. 'Leave this business to your superiors, please. You interrupt too much.'
'But the daemonhost? You talk like you want it for yourselves.'
Osma glanced at the long-snouted inquisitor. 'Heldane? Tell this man to go away. He's served his purpose.'
'Go, Fischig!' Heldane snapped, and my former friend descended the stairs and sat down on one of the couches, gazing at Eleena and Medea, who were trying to make Maxilla comfortable.
'The daemonhost!' Heldane rasped. 'Give it to us!'
'And you call me a heretic.
Heldane's psychic slap rocked me back in my seat.
A guard approached Osma. We have searched the infirmary, lord. There is no one there.'
Thank the Emperor, I thought. Kara has freed Aemos.
'Kara?' said Heldane suddenly. 'Who is Kara?'
No one, I willed.
There is a sixth person aboard/ Heldane told Osma. 'Probably now working with the savant/
'Find them!' Osma snapped, and half of his guard unit hurried from the stateroom. 'Bring more squads across from our ship if you have to/
There was jolt, followed by a terrible raking squeal of metal on metal from somewhere outside.
'What was that?' Heldane demanded.
He got up and hurried down the steps towards the entrance to the main bridge. The Essene jolted again.
Osma rose and pointed the tip of Barbarisater at me. 'Move!' he ordered. 'Watch the rest of them/ he told the guard captain.
We followed Heldane onto the bridge. Fischig joined us, along with Maxilla, who was being held upright by a guard.
We were listing badly. On the main screen, we could see a forward view of the waystation.
The Essene had disengaged from its moorings, and was slowly tearing backwards away from the dock. Docking gantries were grinding and buckling against the ship's hull.
'What have you done?' Osma said to me.
This is none of my doing/ I replied.
A series of minor explosions ripped through the control stations on the right hand side of the huge bridge area, showing the marble floor with sparks and machine-part debris.
Another blast rocked the starboard chapel annex that contained the astropathic vault and buckled the hatch. A helm servitor combusted and toppled over, smashing open its sculptural golden casing.
'Sabotage!' said Osma.
Heldane turned on Maxilla. 'Your handiwork!'
'Mine?' said Maxilla. 'Why the hell would I risk damage to my precious ship just to help these criminals? They mean nothing to me!'
'You're lying, you metal freak!' Heldane barked and grabbed Maxilla by the throat, lifting him off the ground. 'Tell us what you've done! Put it right! Get your crew to stabilise the ship!'
'I've done nothing...' Maxilla choked.
Heldane hurled him across the chamber. The inquisitor was strong by any standards, but he supplemented his physical strength with telekinesis. Maxilla hit the wall with a terrible splintering impact, and Heldane held him there with his powers for an awful momen
t, squashing him against the duralloy with his mind. There were several loud cracks of bone and metal.
Then he let him go and the limp, broken body of Tobias Maxilla fell to the marble deck and lay still.
'Why did you do that?' Fischig cried.
'Shut the hell up, you idiot/ Heldane answered. We need to get this vessel locked down/
Fischig and one of the guards took a few steps forward towards the main bridge consoles. Fischig knew the Essene. He probably thought he could access the thrusters and level us out before the dock gantries did any more damage to the hull.
The astropathic vault blew out in a sheet of white flame that atomised two of the helm stations and threw Fischig and the guard off their feet.
Screaming and writhing, incandescent with green tongues of fire that washed across its naked contorting body, a figure levitated out of the burning vault.
But it wasn't screaming. It was laughing.
It was Cherubael.
It was shining so brightly it hurt to behold it, but I could see enough to realise it was wearing the body of one of the Essene s astropaths. Plug sockets still decorated its gleaming flesh, some still trailing wires. All clothing had burned away, but the astropath's extensive bionic augmentation was clear. The body had no legs, just a dangling assembly of cables and machined connectors where the astropath, like most of Maxilla's crew, had plugged directly and permanently into a vault socket.
Heldane and two of the guards ran towards it, the guards shouting prayers against the warp as they opened fire. Heldane drew a force sword
from his waist. I felt the backwash as he assaulted the daemonhost with the full force of his psychic powers.
Osma was staring at the daemonhost in astonishment. It suddenly occurred to me that despite his rank and authority, he probably had very little first hand experience of abominations like Cherubael.
"You wanted the daemonhost, grand master,' I said. 'Looks like you've got him.'
My words snapped him into activity and he looked round, but Bar-barisater was already hissing through the air directly into my extended hand.