The Unremembered Empire Part 22

*My dear Roboute,' said the Lion. *There are only two of us here. What exactly are you proposing?'

13.

Falling Angels

*The strength of your enemy is also his weakness.'

a Martial Stratagems, 123rd Maxim *I am, I confess, uneasy with the suggestion,' said t.i.tus Prayto.

*I understand,' Guilliman nodded. *Then you refuse?'

*I do not refuse orders, my lord,' Prayto responded quickly.

*It is not that kind of order. It is a request that you could choose to deny.'

Prayto looked at his commander. They were alone in the Residency, out of earshot of even Gorod and the Terminator bodyguard, and out of mindshot of any psyker.

*I would neither deny a request, my lord,' said Prayto.

*But I put you in a difficult position?'

Prayto nodded.

*I am not sure I want to spy on the mind of a primarch.'

*I'm sure you're in my mind all the time, t.i.tus,' smiled Guilliman.

*No, lord. Surface thoughts only, and only then when they are too bright for me to screen them out. I never pry unless invited.'

*Then perhaps I should not presume, and explain my thinking to you in words,' said Guilliman.

He sat down, and stared out of the repaired window ports at the distant glimmer of the new star.

*We stand at the brink. Imperium Secundus needs a figurehead to unite it. I had postponed that choice, for it had to be a primarch, and I was the only primarch present. It was unseemlya'

*No one would have refuted you, lord,' said Prayto.

*It would have been unseemly,' Guilliman insisted. *I prayed for a loyal brother to be delivered through the storm. When all hope seemed extinguished, I resigned myself to taking the regency with all the humility I could gather. Then the Lion appeared.'

*You would declare him your regent?'

*Of course... but...'

*You don't trust him?'

*Yes, I do. No matter how closely he plays his secrets. The problem is, I don't believe he trusts me. If I am going to let him in, t.i.tus, if I am going to declare him into a position of power that I cannot undo, I have to be sure of his agenda. Once he has been ratified as regent, we cannot unseat him if we are disappointed by the character he reveals.'

*Not without insurrection,' said Prayto.

*Which we will avoid, for reasons of toxic irony if nothing else. I need to know his mind, t.i.tus.'

*I see, my lord. We are essentially vetting the new Master of Mankind.'

Prayto rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully.

*It is difficult,' he said. *It is as with the Wolves, only on a greater scale. Like the Wolves, the n.o.ble Lion undoubtedly understands the authority of the Edict of Nikaea. The Librarius of the Ultramarines is already evidence that you are prepared to overrule the word of the Emperor. If I am caught probing his mind...'

*Will you be caught?'

*I will endeavour not to be. At the Feast of Hosts tonight, I will use the background rush of many minds in company to get close. Understand, I do not know his capabilities, and he is famously closed. Alsoa'

*Yes?'

*There has been odd activity this afternoon. At least two incidents were detected by the Astra Telepathica during the parade. We are still processing their findings, but it is possible that one or more powerful minds are at liberty in the precinct of the city.'

Guilliman nodded.

*Keep me appraised. t.i.tus, if you can tell me that the Lion trusts me sufficiently, I will declare him. He is the only choice... unless you can tell me that poor Vulkan is no longer insane?'

*I cannot, lord.'

*I do not care which, t.i.tus,' said Guilliman. *Search the mind of one primarch or heal the mind of the other. Whichever is easiest. Whichever serves us best.'

The surface. That was the next goal.

Curze dropped feet first, a flutter of crow-shadows, and landed at the bottom of a deep extraction vent overlooking one of the Invincible Reason's eight ma.s.sive dispersal decks.

Below him, like seeds ready to be sown, hundreds of drop pods were loaded in their cradles over the chutes to the void hatches.

He could commandeer one and dropa No. A vision came, and it was firm. An undeniable reflection. Guilliman's city was protected from aerial and orbital a.s.sault by field screens and vast automated batteries. In his mind's eye, Curze saw a single drop pod falling. Its descent was rapid, but not rapid enough. Detection systems awoke. Auspex trembled. Fire control systems calculated intercept. A spear of green energy from the surface struck the diving pod and converted it into an expanding cloud of fire and fluttering debris.

Another vision, slipping in and overlapping the first, showed him that a similar fate awaited any ship or lander that attempted planetfall without the correct code signal. But the codes wouldn't resolve in his mind. He imagined that they were being randomly generated on a minute by minute basis.

A third vision showed him the pointlessness of trying for the teleport a.s.semblies. The Lion had ensured that they were all deactivated to prevent exactly that kind of escape route.

The Lord of Night bared his teeth and whined. How could one man get to the surface? How could one mana Another vision. Curze smiled. One man could not.

They were still hunting for him on the upper decks of the flagship. Curze had wearied of the killing, and had slipped away, leaving false trails and brutal traps to delay and occupy his would-be captors. No one suspected that he could have reached the dispersal decks in the ship's belly so quickly.

Curze slid out of the vent base, and slunk along the side of the vast deck, using the shadows of the great stanchions and kinetic brace-beams. He was moving parallel to the lines of drop pods in their cradle framework. He studied them carefully, checking their status, though this only confirmed what the visions had shown to him.

He was far from alone on the dispersal deck.

Launch control was a large operations room overlooking the bay. Alongside the servitor station personnel, there were twelve drop officers on duty. From the moment Curze let himself into the room, none of them lived for more than thirty seconds. They took the launch permission codes with them as they died, but that didn't matter.

Codes were for minions and menials. The Lord of the First could launch his drop pod blizzards with a simple gene-sample override.

Curze picked up a data-slate that had fallen onto the deck beside the headless body of the launch station's commander. He wiped the blood off it with the tattered hem of his cloak. *Full a.s.sault drop' was already pre-selected and waiting.

Curze stuck out his dark tongue and slowly, almost lasciviously, licked the cold screen of the data-slate.

From a shared genetic root-source, one brother's gene-sample was as good as another's.

The slate pinged.

Genecode accepted.

Launch authorised.

a.s.sault swarm launch in thirty seconds.

Twenty-nine.

Twenty-eight.

The Lion raised his goblet. *To the Lord of Macragge, for your welcome,' he said.

*To the Lord of the First, for your faith,' Guilliman replied, *and to the Imperium, for its endurance.'

They drank, and around them, along the dressed tables of the great dining hall, their men echoed the toasts and drank.

There were a thousand guests present at the long tables a the highest ranking Ultramarines had gathered and were seated with the Dark Angels counterparts of their specialisms, along with senior consuls, delegates from the Army, the Astra Telepathica, the various fleets, the Mechanic.u.m and the Collegia t.i.tanica, and representatives of all the other Legions that had come to Macragge.

As soon as the toasts were given, music began, and tides of servitors flooded out of the kitchen doorways to serve the first of many courses.

Guilliman and the Lion took their places across from each other at the princ.i.p.al table. Glow-globes drifted in the vaults of the hall's high roof, and the tables were lined with fluttering candelabras, which combined to fill the hall with a golden light a a luminosity that reminded many present of the numinous aura of the Emperor.

Three seats away from Guilliman, t.i.tus Prayto watched the Lion and waited for his opportunity.

He closed his eyes for a second, screening out the background noise. He was uncomfortable. There was a terrible tension thata Prayto started and stood up, his eyes wide.

*Great Terra!' he cried. Despite the scale of the hall and the size of the company present, all talking ceased, and all eyes turned to him.

*t.i.tus?' Guilliman asked, confused.

Prayto stared at the Lion.

*I felt it,' he said. *I felt it there. The surge of minds. Hundreds of minds suddenly alert with antic.i.p.ation. What did you do, my lord? What did you just do?'

*I have no idea what you're talka' The Lion began, but his words were cut off by the sudden chiming of multiple alert monitors, swiftly followed by the blare of the palace klaxons.

Guilliman threw back his chair and stood up.

*Report!' he demanded.

*Ma.s.s...o...b..tal launch,' Auguston reported, reading off his data-slate as he rose to his feet. He looked at Guilliman in disbelief. *The Dark Angels flagship has just... It has just launched a full drop pod a.s.sault on Macragge Civitas.'

*What?' Guilliman cried.

*Four hundred drop pods,' Auguston said. *Primary a.s.sault spread formation. This city is targeted. Planetfall in four minutes.'

*a.s.sault swarm confirmed by all stations,' Gorod reported.

Guilliman's dress sword was in his fist and aimed, tip-first, across the table at the Lion.

*Is this your treachery?' he snarled.

*No!' the Lion replied, not flinching from the blade hovering at his throat. Some of his officers had drawn swords at the threat to their master, and he waved them back urgently. There were far too many weapons drawn in the hall already.

*I have done nothing,' the Lion hissed. *I have not authorised anything!'

*The grid does not lie!' Auguston barked. *Drop pod swarm! From your ship! Inbound!'

*You attack me?' asked Guilliman.

*I swear not!' The Lion said. He glanced at the Dark Angels nearest him. *Stand down. Someone explain this!'

Holguin held out his data-slate.

*Signal is confirmed. The Invincible Reason has launched a drop pod a.s.sault. Impact in three minutes and counting.'

*Condemned from their own lips!' Auguston cried.

*This is a mistake!' Farith Redloss shouted at the Ultramarines First Master. *A malfunction! A mis-launch!'

*How exactly do you accidentally launch a drop pod a.s.sault, brother?' asked Guilliman.

*This is a malfunction,' the Lion insisted to Guilliman. *I swear so.'

*Accident or not, the pods will not reach the city,' said Guilliman. *Our shields are raised. Our batteries have full lock. We will burn them out of the sky.'

The Lion swallowed hard and stared directly at Guilliman.

*This is a mistake, brother. A terrible mistake. I swear it. And I implore you, spare my warriors.'

*Your warriors?'