Then they were gone, leaving everyone to catch their breath and wonder what in the name of the Throne had just happened.
‘Five minutes.’ Amberley holstered her bolt pistol, and glared at the mess on her jacket. ‘As soon as I’ve cleaned this up, we’re leaving.’
Which we did. Given that being in a confined space with Jurgen – not to mention Amberley’s jacket – brought its own special quality to proceedings, I took the opportunity to station myself in the upper turret of the Chimera we’d requisitioned. Up there I’d be assured a continued supply of air as fresh as it ever got in the depths of a hive, and a reasonable view of whatever was trying to kill us if the enemy contrived to take us by surprise.
From this elevated vantage point I got a good view of Pelton, Zemelda and Mott approaching, all carrying backpacks, and all dressed in plain utility garments with stout boots and visible sidearms. Pelton’s bolt pistol was holstered at his waist, while Zemelda had transferred her laspistol from its usual point of concealment in the small of her back to a holster on her thigh – presumably because her rucksack would have made it almost impossible to draw quickly if she’d left it where it was. To my faint surprise Mott had a laspistol too, in a visible shoulder rig. If nothing else that impressed upon me just how much trouble Amberley was expecting to find down there. As far as I knew, the savant seldom went armed, and when he did he preferred something a great deal more discreet.
I greeted him with a nod, as of all the members of Amberley’s warband he was the one I socialised with the most (apart from Amberley herself, of course). If I was careful not to trigger a cascade of information from his augmented cerebellum he was a fascinating conversationalist, with a rich fund of anecdotes about his decades of service to the Inquisition, and his ability to almost instantly calculate complex variables had come in extremely handy on visits to a number of gaming establishments over the years.125 ‘Not like you to be tooled up,’ I said.
Mott nodded. ‘Only on approximately eighteen point three seven five per cent of assignments in the field,’ he agreed, ‘although since the probability of hostile encounters in the underhive is–’
‘Damn near certain,’ I agreed hastily, before he could start breaking them down by category, ‘especially with the eldar doing whatever it is they’re up to down there as well.’
‘Quite,’ Amberley said, clambering aboard and beginning a conversation with my kneecaps, which were about on a level with her face. I leaned back a little against the rim of the cupola, affording me a better view of her upturned face in the passenger compartment below. ‘So the sooner we get on with it the better.’
‘Not taking the power armour?’ I asked. The extra firepower it supported would have come in extremely handy, there being no such thing as overkill on a mission like this, and the thick ceramite plating would have been equally reassuring to have standing between me and an indeterminate number of homicidal eldar.
Amberley shook her head. ‘Yanbel’s still tinkering with it. Says it needs a couple of parts replaced, and the purity seals resanctified.’
‘Well, he should know,’ I conceded. I waited until she’d seated herself next to her acolytes, who’d all opted for the bench on the opposite side of the vehicle from Jurgen, and voxed the driver. ‘Whenever you’re ready.’
No point in worrying about that now, though; with a growl, a jerk and an eructation of promethium fumes we were off in the direction of the underhive.