Ciaphas Cain: Choose Your Enemies

‘Then I’d better make the arrangements,’ Proktor said, and bowed formally, preparatory to taking his leave. Bowing seemed to be a big thing with the Drechians, every formal interaction apparently requiring every­one involved to bob up and down like bottom-feeding waterfowl; fortunately my off-world status and exaggerated reputation spared me the bother. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

Surprisingly, he was as good as his word and, unsurprisingly, the governor was just as annoyed and obstructive as he’d predicted. Nevertheless, by dint of subtle diplomacy, rather less subtle appeals to my exalted status as a bona fide Hero of the Imperium, and not subtle at all threats to execute anybody impeding us in our duty, up to and including Her Excellency, we got the information back that we needed. With the result that, several days after our previous conversation, Kasteen, Broklaw, Proktor and I found ourselves clustered around the hololith again. Proktor, I’d noticed, was evidently getting used to the Valhallan preference for temperatures which left the breath smoking, his robe a good deal thicker than on his previous visits, which – given my habit of bundling up in my greatcoat and donning an extra pair of socks every time I attended a meeting there – I could hardly blame him for.

‘The majority of attacks seem to be made from low orbit,’ he said, manipulating the controls with surprising ease, and ignoring the enginseer hovering anxiously at his shoulder whose mechadendrites twitched with manifest eagerness to make minute adjustments every time Proktor poked something. ‘And, fortunately, local traffic control has an extensive augur array to monitor the incoming and outgoing ore barges.’ He worked the control lectern again, and the mottled sphere of Drechia suddenly became entangled in what looked like the ball of string Jurgen found in the back of a storage locker once and decided to hang on to in case it came in handy, which it might well have done if he’d ever been able to locate one of its ends. ‘Which would put the end of the tunnel about here.’ He pointed to a particularly large and obdurate knot a few thousand kilometres out into the void, grazing the edge of Avernus’ inordinately large and elaborate ring system.

‘No help to us,’ Kasteen said briskly. ‘They can hit anything on the surface from there, and from any direction.’

‘Though they do seem to have a preference for “up”,’ I added dryly, having developed the habit of scanning the skies whenever my duties took me outdoors. Even when they weren’t mounting a raid in search of loot, the eldar roamed the air constantly, swooping on any military assets they spotted, popping off a round or two, then scuttling off like the cowards they were.

‘Which makes it a job for the system defence force,’33 Broklaw concluded.

Proktor shook his head slowly. ‘It would be if we had one,’ he agreed, ‘but we don’t. In theory, we’re part of the Ironfound System, so we’re supposed to be protected by their system defence assets, and the authorities here decided it would be a waste of resources to build our own.’ He coughed delicately. ‘Unfortunately, the Ironfounders have a different view. They contend that we have our own governor and Administratum, so their military responsibilities end at the halo as well.’

‘Is it too late to shoot the governor for gross incompetence?’ I asked, more as a joke than a serious suggestion. True, one of the dubious benefits of a scarlet sash34 is a free hand to shoot pretty much anyone in the Imperial military you feel like, and as the head of the system’s armed forces a planetary governor theoretically falls under that heading, but in practice the political fallout would be immense, and at least the bloody woman was staying out of our way, which wouldn’t necessarily be the case with her successor. Besides, that sort of thing wouldn’t sit too well with the firm but fair image I’ve worked so hard to create. Nevertheless, to my surprise, Proktor seemed to be taking me seriously.

‘Though it pains me to say it,’ he said, ‘it isn’t exactly her fault. The jurisdictional dispute has been going on for the last nine hundred years.’

Which meant that, even allowing for the aristocracy’s fondness for excessive juvenat treatments, this would be a situation she’d inherited from an ancestor.

‘Fair enough,’ I agreed. ‘Though it could hardly have hurt her to have approved the commissioning of a cutter or two once she took office.’

‘Which would have been blown to perdition as soon as the xenos turned up anyway,’ Kasteen pointed out. ‘Might as well wish for a flotilla of battleships while you’re about it.’ She turned back to the hololith. ‘Any others?’