Ciaphas Cain: Choose Your Enemies

‘I’d be grateful,’ Kasteen said, gulping recaff with the air of someone who was tired but still relishing the process of having got that way. ‘The regiment needs a representative, and you’re good at all that diplomacy stuff.’ She and Broklaw had also been invited to attend by the governor, but that simply wasn’t going to happen now we were properly stuck in to the process of getting combat ready. (Not that we ever weren’t, really, but the whole thing would be a lot easier with the command centre up and running, and the sooner that was sorted out the better.)

‘Consider it done,’ I said. ‘I’m only getting underfoot here anyway.’ I surveyed the cavernous space, which had once formed part of a manufactorum if I was any judge, an impression confirmed by the faint vibration which pervaded the place from whatever processes continued nearby, with a wry smile. ‘You and Ruput seem to be doing all the hard work.’

‘If you say so,’ Kasteen said, with a glance across the huge chamber to where the major was arguing with one of the more senior tech-priests. ‘I’d like to send him with you, but until we have our own eyes and ears we’re going to be reliant on the planetary defence force to track the enemy’s movements, and he’s the designated liaison.’ A faint moue of distaste and the tone of her voice were enough to tell me just how much she didn’t like that state of affairs. ‘Protocol dictates you should be accompanied by someone in the chain of command, though.’

‘Then protocol can go kiss an ork,’ I said. ‘We’re here to give the eldar a bloody nose, not mince about ticking off instructions from an etiquette manual.’

Kasteen laughed, sending a spurt of dark brown liquid sloshing over the rim of her mug. ‘Fair point,’ she said, ‘made with your usual tact and eloquence. Let’s hope it works on the governor.’

A hope I must confess I shared, as I began my journey back to the tip of the spire. Our new command centre was situated in what I felt to be the optimum position – although I’d had nothing to do with selecting it, and had no idea who to thank95 – on one of the upper levels of the manufactorum tiers. This gave us good access to the rest of the hab zones above through the hive’s own internal transport system, while leaving us well placed to counter any upward attacks the xenos might make from the depths of the underhive as well. Or mount our own patrols down into it, as I strongly suspected Kasteen was going to order as soon as we were ready to do so.

The one thing about our location which I found faintly disquieting was that, although it was near the centre of the hive, some dozen kilometres from the nearest external wall, it was perfectly placed to be caught between eldar descending from the spire and rising from the underhive, if the invasion force was able to breach our outer defences and gain access to the interior at the same time as they got the webway portal dug out.

Not a thought I was comfortable with, so I pushed it to the back of my mind as I boarded the flyer the governor had sent down for me. I could have made my way up the spire on the funicular which connected many of the levels, or simply driven up the interconnecting network of roads, ramps and tunnels which riddled the structure like veins and arteries, and had I realised how eventful the short hop was going to be I would certainly have done so – but I remained in blissful ignorance, and opted for the fast route. If I’m entirely honest, this choice was also influenced by an element of egotism;96 I was flattered that the governor had put the flyer at my disposal, and felt it would be diplomatically expedient to accept the offer. Not to mention the fact that, in my experience, the personal transports of the rich and powerful tended to be a good deal more comfortable than being rattled about in the back of a Salamander by Jurgen. Which, of course, turned out to be a necessary precursor for getting to the landing pad in any case – a task he accomplished in a little over five minutes, without causing too much damage on the way.

‘Will that be all?’ he asked, in a faintly pointed manner as I clambered out and straightened my cap, gunning the engine as he spoke. He clearly felt that my position and status would be weakened by his absence, the presence of an aide being a universal signifier of importance, and would probably sulk for days about the perceived slight if I didn’t do something to smooth his ruffled feelings.

So I nodded, in a confidential fashion. ‘I’m afraid so,’ I said, ‘much as I’d prefer you to accompany me. But I’d feel a lot happier knowing that at least one of us will be instantly available if Inquisitor Vail needs our assistance.’

‘Of course, sir.’ He nodded too, in a faintly proud way. ‘You can rely on me to give her any help she needs.’

‘I don’t doubt that,’ I said. ‘There’s no one I trust more.’ Which happened to be true, as well as the most expedient thing to say at the time.