The Beast Arises

Vangorich wasn’t blind to the fact that he was standing in the middle of a vivid demonstration of Lansung’s personal power and influence, the cult of his personality. The Imperial College of Fleet Strategy, the Navy’s most elite academy, was on its way to becoming Lansung’s private youth movement. Lansung had been a graduate, and he favoured it unstintingly. All the best fleet promotions went to graduates from the College. In return, the cadets showed the Lord High Admiral a form of blind support that bordered on adoration. Many proudly referred to themselves as ‘Lansungites’, and modelled their tactical theories after Lansung’s career actions.

‘The trouble is,’ said Vangorich, ‘though none can stand against you, some might try.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It would be foolish. Divisive. But there are some parties, my lord, who might try to oppose you even if it was futile. And that could harm the Imperium at this time.’

Lansung looked at Vangorich directly for the first time, and held his gaze for a moment.

‘Who are you talking about?’ he asked.

‘It would be inappropriate to betray a confidence, sir,’ Vangorich replied, still smiling. ‘The point, sir, the real point, is Ardamantua.’

‘Ardamantua? Drakan, that’s an entirely military issue. Why is a political outsider like you even slightly interested in—’

‘We should all be interested in it, sir. All of us. Ardamantua is turning into a debacle. An extraordinary military calamity actually, and we don’t yet know what the consequences will be. But let’s imagine for a moment that they are the worst possible consequences.’

Lansung murmured an agreement, turning to shake more hands and mouth more small talk. He was still listening.

‘If Ardamantua turns into a disaster, sir, as you may suspect it might, it may well have long term effects on the security of the Terran Core.’

‘We can deal with anything—’

‘Sir, the problem as I perceive it… and, of course, I am only a mere political outsider… but the problem as I see it is a disagreement about how we deal with it. Certain… parties, certain quarters… they see things in different ways. When push comes to shove, they may well disagree with your proposals as to how to handle the matter. They may wish to employ alternative policies. They would fight you over the correct way to deal with Ardamantua and its fallout.’

Vangorich leaned closer so he could whisper, while Lansung shook hands.

‘That might be fatal. Your power bloc in the Twelve is unassailable, but others might be so desperate they would fight it anyway. Then what? Stagnation. Impasse. Brutal, political, internecine war amongst the High Lords. Paralysis. An inability for the Senatorum to act, to make policy of any sort… just when the Imperium is under threat? In short, my dear lord, my dear friend, the fact is if Ardamantua develops into the threat that it really could be, then it is not the right time for the High Lords of Terra to become locked in a pointless, hopeless battle with themselves, with each other. The Imperium must not be left so vulnerable, nor can such a vulnerability even be risked.’

Lansung looked at Vangorich again.

‘I may be a political outsider, my lord,’ said Vangorich, ‘and my seat and Officio may carry very little weight compared to the influence they used to bear. But I will not stand by and see the Imperium under such jeopardy of political paralysis. After all, if my Officio ever had any purpose, it is as the final safeguard against precisely that danger. And that, sir, is one of the two important reasons you need me as an ally.’

The audience around them was clapping more enthusiastically again. Lansung raised his hand to acknowledge them. His armsmen steered him towards the stage steps.

‘Oh, they love you,’ said Vangorich. ‘I’m not surprised. They’re stamping and shouting. They want you back on the podium for an encore.’

Lansung turned at the foot of the steps and looked back at Vangorich, who had stopped walking with him.

‘We’ll talk again, at your convenience,’ said Vangorich. ‘Soon. Now, go! Go on! Shoo! They want you up there!’

‘What is the second reason?’ asked Lansung.

‘My lord?’

‘You said there were two important reasons why I needed you as an ally,’ Lansung called out over the rising roar of the crowd. ‘What is the second reason?’

‘Very simple, my lord,’ said Vangorich. ‘You may not much want me as an ally. But you definitely do not want me as an enemy.’

Thirty

Ardamantua

Laurentis regained consciousness. He knew at once he was pitifully injured. His neck, throat and chin were wet with the torrents of blood that were leaking from his ears and nose. There was pain in his joints and organs that he was sure would be crippling him into immobility if his nerves weren’t so dulled.

He hauled himself to his feet. The tech-adept was dead, and most of Laurentis’ apparatus flickered empty with equivalent lifelessness. Major Nyman lay sprawled on the chamber floor nearby, twitching and moaning.