Part 38 (1/2)
Great machines of incredible potency and complexity were spread throughout the chamber, vast stockpiles and uniquely fabricated items that would defy the understanding of even the most gifted adept of the Mechanic.u.m.
It had the feel of a laboratory belonging to the most brilliant scientist the world had ever seen. It had the look of great things, of potential yet untapped, and of dreams on the verge of being dragged into reality. Mighty golden doors, like the entrance to the most magnificent fortress, filled one end of the chamber. Great carvings were worked into the mechanised doors: entwined siblings, dreadful sagittary, a rearing lion, the scales of justice and many more.
Thousands of tech-adepts, servitors and logi moved through the chamber's myriad pa.s.sageways, like blood cells through a living organism in service to its heart, where a great golden throne reared ten metres above the floor. Bulky and machine-like, a forest of snaking cables bound it to the vast portal sealed shut at the opposite end of the chamber.
Only one being knew what lay beyond those doors, a being of towering intellect whose powers of imagination and invention were second to none. He sat upon the mighty throne, encased in golden armour, bringing all his intellect to bear in overseeing the next stage of his wondrous creation.
He was the Emperor, and though many in this chamber had known him for the spans of many lives, none knew him as anything else. No other t.i.tle, no possible name, could ever do justice to such a luminous individual. Surrounded by his most senior praetorians and attended by his most trusted cabal, the Emperor sat and waited.
When the trouble began, it began swiftly.
The golden portal shone with its own inner light, as though some incredible heat from the other side was burning through the metal. Vast gunboxes fixed around the perimeter of the cave swung up, their barrels spooling up to fire. Lightning flashed from machine to machine as delicate, irreplaceable circuits overloaded and exploded. Adepts ran from the site of the breach, knowing little of what lay beyond, yet knowing enough to flee.
Crackling bolts of energy poured from the molten gates, flensing those too close to the marrow. Intricate symbols carved into the rock of the cavern exploded with shrieking detonations. Every source of illumination in the chamber blew out in a shower of sparks, and centuries of the most incredible work imaginable was undone in an instant.
No sooner had the first alarm sounded than the Emperor's Custodes were at arms, but nothing in their training could have prepared them for what came next.
A form pressed its way through the portal: ma.s.sive, red and aflame with the burning force of its journey. It emerged into the chamber, wreathed in eldritch fire that bled away to reveal a robed being composed of many-angled light and the substance of stars. Its radiance was blinding and none could look upon its many eyes without feeling the insignificance of their own mortality.
None had ever seen such a dreadful apparition, the true heart of a being so mighty that it could only beat while encased in super-engineered flesh.
The Emperor alone recognised this rapturous angel, and his heart broke to see it.
”Magnus,” he said.
”Father,” replied Magnus.
Their minds met, and in that moment of frozen connection the galaxy changed forever.
OCCULLUM SQUARE WAS busy, though Lemuel saw an undercurrent of nameless fear in the auras of the traders and buyers. They haggled with more than usual bitterness, and the sparring back and forth was done with tired eyes and heavy hearts. Perhaps it was a ma.s.s hangover from the riots two weeks ago. No one had adequately explained why such violence had broken out on the streets of a city that had not known unrest in hundreds of years.
He sat with Camille on a wrought iron bench between Gordian Avenue and Daedalus Street, watching the crowds go about their business, pretending nothing was out of place, as though they were not living on a world ruled by warriors who regarded them as nothing more than playthings.
In the fortnight since Kallista's death, he and Camille had spent a great deal of time together, mourning their lost friend and coming to terms with their current situation. It had involved many stories, many tears and a great deal of soul-searching, but they had eventually reached the same conclusion.
”She thought this world was a paradise,” said Camille, watching the forced laughter of a couple strolling arm in arm beneath the shadow of the Occullum.
”We all did,” said Lemuel. ”I didn't want a tasking order to come for the Thousand Sons. I wanted to stay and learn from Ahriman. Look where that got us.”
”Kalli's death wasn't your fault,” said Camille, taking his hand. ”Don't ever think that.”
”I don't,” he said. ”I blame Ahriman. He may not have pulled the switches or pressed the b.u.t.tons, but he knew what they were doing was wrong and he let it happen anyway.”
They watched the crowds for a moment longer, before Camille asked, ”Do you think he'll come?” Lemuel nodded.
”He'll come. He wants this as much as we do.” Camille looked away and Lemuel read the hesitation in her aura.
”We do both want this, don't we?” he asked.
”Yes,” said Camille, a little too quickly.
”Come on,” he said. ”We have to be honest with one another now.”
”I know, and you're right, it's time, but I-”
”You don't want to leave without Chaiya,” finished Lemuel.
”No, I don't. Does that sound stupid?”
”Not at all. I understand completely, but is what you have worth dying for?”
”I don't know yet,” said Camille, wiping the heels of her palms against her eyes. ”I think it might have been, but this is her home and she won't want to leave.”
”I won't force you to come, but you saw what I saw.”
”I know,” she said, through moist eyes. ”It'll break my heart, but I've made my mind up.”
”Good girl,” said Lemuel, hating that it had taken him this long to understand the truth.
Camille nodded towards Daedalus Street and said, ”Looks like your friend's here,” as a servitor-borne palanquin emerged and turned towards them. The servitors were bulk-muscled things, broad shouldered and wearing silver helmets and crimson tabards. The crowds parted for the palanquin, and it stopped before Lemuel and Camille.
The velvet curtain parted and Mahavastu Kallimakus emerged. A set of bronze steps extended from the base of the palanquin and he climbed down to join them.
”A grand conveyance,” said Lemuel, impressed despite himself.
”A waste of time that only serves to draw attention to my irrelevance,” snapped Mahavastu, sitting next to Camille on the bench. ”Sobek insisted I travel in it to save my old bones.”
The venerable scribe patted Camille's hand, his skin gnarled like old oak.
”I was sorry to hear of Mistress Eris' death,” he said. ”She was a quite lovely girl. A real tragedy.”
”No it's not,” said Lemuel. ”It would have been a tragedy if she died thanks to a weakness of her own making, but she was murdered, plain and simple.”
”I see,” said Mahavastu. ”What do I not know?”
”The Thousand Sons burned her out,” said Camille. ”They used her, and she died so that they could glimpse echoes of the future. Fat lot of good it did them. All she did was talk in riddles before it killed her.”
”Ah, I was told she had another of her unfortunate attacks at Voisanne's?”
”She did, but that was only the beginning,” said Lemuel, standing and pacing back and forth before the bench. ”They killed her, Mahavastu. It's that simple. Look, what do you want me to say? You were right, there is a curse upon the Thousand Sons. If what Kallista said means half of what we think it means, this world is doomed and it's time we were gone.”
”You wish to leave Prospero?” asked Mahavastu.
”d.a.m.n right I do.”
Mahavastu nodded. ”And you feel the same, Mistress s.h.i.+vani?”
”Yeah,” she said. ”When Ankhu Anen moved me away from Kallista, I felt something of his memories, a fragment of something that pa.s.sed between him and the other captains. I didn't get more than a flash, but whatever they know has them terrified. Something very bad is happening, and it's time we put some distance between us and the Thousand Sons.”
”Have you given any thought as to how we might do this, Lemuel?” asked Mahavastu.