Ciaphas Cain: Choose Your Enemies

‘Neither do I.’ Defroy turned back to the loading ramp, where a single utility truck was trundling its way towards us. It bounced almost imperceptibly on its tyres as it made the transition to the deck plates, then growled in our direction at a little more than walking pace. It had a few crates stacked in the open cargo compartment behind the driver’s cab, with a couple of guards perching uncomfortably on top of them, their hellguns at the ready.

‘If everything’s been unloaded, what’s that?’ I asked.

Defroy shrugged. ‘Something that looks like it needs an escort,’ he said reasonably. ‘Can’t smuggle His Excellency into the estate disguised as a guard if there’s no reason for new guards to be arriving, can we?’

‘I suppose not,’ I said, although it sounded pretty thin to me. I’d probably have commented further if I hadn’t left my comm-bead tuned to Amberley’s command frequency, which meant I was being distracted by Rakel’s caterwauling despite my best efforts to remain focused on what was going on around me. There was something faintly hypnotic about it, but switching frequencies again might mean missing some urgent or vital vox from Amberley, so I just let it run and tried to ignore the noise as best I could.

The truck drew up next to us, and a single glance at the guards in the back was enough to convince me that they were no more real troopers than Fulcher himself. They seemed alert enough, eyeing Jurgen and I with clear suspicion, but like the governor they held their hellguns awkwardly instead of with the instinctive ease of the seasoned warrior. Bodyguards, then, more used to easily concealable weapons like pistols and throwing knives.

I held up a hand as Fulcher reached out for the passenger door of the truck, and shook an admonishing head. ‘You’ll have to sit in the back, I’m afraid. Unless you want people to wonder why a common trooper’s riding in style while his commanding officer’s rattling around with the luggage.’ The ersatz guards already up there almost succeeded in suppressing visible grins.

For a moment something dark and ugly kindled in the back of Fulcher’s eyes, then a bland and rueful grin spread across his face. ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘you’re absolutely right.’ Slinging the hellgun across his shoulders he clambered awkwardly into the flatbed, shrugging away the proffered hand of the nearest bodyguard.

‘Mind your backs,’ Jurgen said, swinging easily aboard in his wake, despite the added encumbrance of the melta. He kicked the nearest crate to assess its robustness, and settled on it, scanning our surroundings with wary eyes. ‘Got a good view from up here, sir.’

Rakel’s voice in my vox-bead wavered, and stopped.

‘What’s wrong?’ Amberley cut in at once, her voice freighted with concern.

‘A disturbance in the warp,’ Rakel said, with surprising lucidity. ‘Some of the voices suddenly went silent.’

‘What about the others?’ Amberley asked.

Rakel hesitated a moment. ‘Still there,’ she said, ‘but they’re fainter. And she’s almost here.’

‘Sounds like you’re busy,’ I said, then made the offer everyone was expecting me to, given my fraudulent reputation. ‘I can be right with you if you need backup.’

‘Stay with Fulcher,’ Amberley said. ‘Between the cultists and the eldar, he must be the biggest target on the orbital by now.’

‘Can’t argue with that,’ I said, rather wishing I could, and that I wasn’t so close to him.

Editorial Note:

Given the short gap which now ensues before Cain picks up his narrative again, this seems a reasonable point at which to insert a brief account of the state of affairs back on Ironfound. For those readers wishing to skip it, the short version is ‘not good.’

From Like a Phoenix on the Wing: the Early Campaigns and Glorious Victories of the Valhallan 597th by General Jenit Sulla (retired), 101 M42

Despite the heroic efforts of the local defenders the eldar continued to advance up through the underhive, seeping ever higher, like the effusions of a blocked and defective sewer. Though resisted at every step, they gained ground inexorably, striding over the cadavers of the fallen, pausing only to loot the bodies of their own stricken comrades,178 a display of barbarous venality which roused the righteous ire and disgust of every woman and man who witnessed it.