Anarch - Dan Abnett Read online

  ‘You close the doors when you came up, Perday?’ asked Hark.

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘I thought they were bringing the retinue out?’ said Curth. ‘Where are they?’

  ‘Maybe they have the problem sorted,’ said Hark.

  ‘Well, the lights are on,’ said Curth.

  ‘Up here,’ said Perday quietly.

  Hark gripped the door handle and turned it. Then he rattled it hard.

  ‘Come on, Viktor,’ said Curth wearily.

  ‘It won’t open,’ said Hark.

  ‘Stop messing around.’

  ‘I’m not,’ said Hark, and rattled the door again.

  Curth looked at him. She could see the bewilderment on his face.

  ‘Is it locked?’

  ‘No. There’s no lock. Bolts on the inside.’

  ‘Who would draw those and lock us out?’ Curth asked.

  Hark shook the doors again. They wouldn’t budge. He hammered his fist against the heavy wooden panels.

  ‘Hello? Hello in there!’ he yelled.

  There was no reply. Hark hammered again.

  ‘Open the damn door!’ he yelled. ‘This is Hark! Open it up!’

  He waited.

  ‘Can you hear that?’ asked Curth.

  ‘Hear what?’

  ‘Viktor, I can hear someone crying. A child…’

  Curth stepped to the door and pressed her ear against the wood.

  ‘It’s really faint. Far away. There’s a child crying down there.’

  She tried the handle herself, then yelled. ‘Hello? Hello? Who’s in there? Can you hear me?’

  She looked at Hark.

  ‘We need to break this down,’ she said.

  Gaunt and Van Voytz stood watching the Beati. She was standing at the railing, looking down at the seething activity of the palace war room. Then she tilted her head back and gazed up at the high ceiling of the huge chamber.

  ‘What’s she doing, Ibram?’ Van Voytz asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ replied Gaunt. ‘Waiting. Listening…’

  ‘Listening?’

  ‘I trust her instincts,’ Gaunt replied. ‘If she thinks there’s something wrong… senses it… then…’

  ‘Should we go to an alert?’ Van Voytz asked. ‘Inform the warmaster and the others? If an attack is imminent–’

  ‘She said it was here. Right here.’

  ‘Then all the more reason,’ Van Voytz began.

  They heard voices behind them, and turned. Sancto’s team was letting Beltayn and Gaunt’s tactical cabinet into the gallery room. It was getting crowded in there. Kazader was still present, along with the Beati’s deputies. Inquisitor Laksheema and Colonel Grae had also arrived a few minutes earlier.

  ‘I’ll go and talk to them,’ said Gaunt. ‘Barthol, I don’t want to cause an uproar. The Beati is mercurial to say the least, and her insight isn’t always true. But let’s play it safe. Alert the Palace Watch. Then round up any high command in the building. Tzara’s here, I think, also Lugo and Urienz.’‘I think everyone else is already in the field,’ said Van Voytz. ‘Grizmund, Blackwood, Cybon, Kelso–’

  ‘I think you’re right. Just get the seniors assembled and aware. Tell them to get all the strengths they have in the Great Hill zone brought to secondary order. Tell Urienz to take charge of the war room… no. No, scratch that. You take charge of the war room. Lock us down, bring us to order and watch for anything. Anything, Barthol.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Send Urienz to inform the warmaster we may have a situation on site. He’ll receive Urienz more readily than you.’

  Van Voytz nodded.

  ‘Tell Urienz that comes direct from me,’ said Gaunt.

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Good. This could be a chance to demonstrate your mettle again,’ Gaunt said.

  ‘That had occurred to me, Ibram,’ Van Voytz replied, ‘but I rather hope that it won’t be, for all our sakes.’

  He made the sign of the aquila, and strode away.

  Gaunt stepped off the gallery walk into the screened glass box of the briefing room.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Laksheema asked immediately.

  ‘The Saint has a presentiment of danger,’ Gaunt began.

  ‘Are our assets compromised?’ the inquisitor asked.

  ‘No,’ said Gaunt. ‘I have strengths moving in to secure them both as we agreed. The Saint’s feeling is that the danger is here.’

  ‘What sort of danger?’ asked Kazader.

  ‘She can’t be specific yet,’ said Gaunt.

  ‘Can’t be specific?’ Kazader asked scornfully.

  ‘I’ve raised the ready status of the palace, and the garrison is coming to secondary–’ Gaunt began.

  ‘But she can’t be specific?’ Kazader cut in.

  ‘Her visions are not always particular,’ said Sariadzi. ‘We must give her time to focus–’

  Kazader looked at her, his eyes narrowed.

  ‘I think this is ridiculous,’ he said. ‘If there’s a threat, we deal with it. If not, this is dangerous foment. Scaremongering. Are we really just going to wait for some peasant girl to–’

  Auerben had to hold Sariadzi back.

  ‘That’s enough!’ Gaunt snapped. ‘Not in here. Not anywhere. Kazader, step out. Go get your men ready. There will be a reprimand on your record for that.’

  Kazader glared at Gaunt, then saluted and walked out.

  Gaunt looked at the rest. ‘I’ve brought you here to consult and assist. Colonel Grae and the inquisitor are party to the most delicate confidences attached to the Urdesh situation. Biota, you and your staff need to be aware so you can support me.’

  Biota nodded. The two tacticians with him were solemn and silent.

  ‘Where’s Merity?’ Gaunt asked, an afterthought. ‘I thought she was with you?’

  ‘Mr Biota excused her, sir,’ said Beltayn. ‘She’s gone down to the undercroft. Commissar Fazekiel wanted to ask her a few more questions about the Low Keen incident.’

  ‘She’s down there now?’

  ‘Went down a little while ago, sir.’

  ‘Alone?’

  ‘She has an appointed Scion with her, my lord,’ said Biota.

  Gaunt nodded. ‘Right. Let’s run over what we know. Starting with the Beati’s sense that there’s a–’

  Gaunt broke off. Through the room’s glass door he saw Ban Daur arrive, and exchange words with Sancto. Sancto gestured to the room. Daur said something else. Sancto turned and looked through the glass at Gaunt.

  Gaunt was about to shake his head. Regimental business could wait, and Daur knew it. But there was something in Daur’s body language.

  He nodded.

  Sancto hesitated for a moment, as if surprised, and then opened the door for Daur.

  ‘My apologies, Lord Executor,’ Daur said as he stepped in.

  ‘What do you need, captain?’ Gaunt asked.

  ‘I…’ Daur hesitated. Everyone was looking at him. ‘I need to report that there seems to be a situation in the Tanith billet. In the undercroft, sir.’

  ‘An issue?’

  ‘A power-out, my lord. It–’

  Gaunt sighed. His gut had been wrong. Daur was fussing, and he should have known better.

  ‘That’s a technical issue, Captain Daur. Take it to the palace custodians.’

  Daur wavered. ‘I don’t fully understand the circumstances, my lord, but an amber status has been issued. By Commissar Fazekiel.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Gaunt.

  ‘I don’t know, my lord. I came straight to you. Commissar Hark has gone to investigate directly.’

  He looked at the others in the room.

  ‘I apologise for interrupting this meeting,’ he said.

&
nbsp; Gaunt had risen to his feet.

  ‘Amber status?’ he asked. His voice was oddly fierce.

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ Daur replied.

  ‘Is it in darkness?’

  Everyone looked around. Daur blinked in surprise. The Beati had entered through the walkway door and was staring at him.

  ‘Captain Ban Daur,’ she said. ‘I asked you, is the undercroft in darkness?’

  ‘It is, my lady. Entirely. So I understand.’

  ‘Are there children there? Children who might be afraid? Who might be sobbing?’

  ‘Yes, my lady. There are children. The entire retinue.’

  The Beati turned to look directly at Gaunt.

  ‘Anarch,’ she said.

  ‘Sound the alarms!’ Gaunt snarled.

  Hark took another run at the doors, and bounced off again.

  ‘You’ll break your fething shoulder,’ said Curth.

  He didn’t reply. He pulled out his plasma pistol and adjusted the setting.

  ‘Stand the feth back, both of you,’ he said. Curth and Perday stepped away. Perday’s eyes were wide.

  Hark aimed the weapon at the doors, and fired.

  The whoop of discharged plasma echoed in the empty hallway, and Curth winced. Smoke drifted up and clouded the air around the hissing lumen globes overhead.

  The doors were unmarked.

  ‘How the hell–’ Hark stammered.

  ‘Is there something wrong with your gun, Hark?’ Curth asked.

  ‘What? No. That was a full discharge.’

  He examined the door, running his fingers over the wood. Not so much as a blemish.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ he said.

  ‘I hear alarms,’ Perday said, looking up. ‘That’s the threat alert.’

  Klaxons were sounding in the corridors and hallways above them. The bells in the palace campaniles were being rung too.

  ‘Try it again,’ Curth urged Hark.

  Footsteps clattered down the stairs from the hall above. They turned, and saw Gaunt striding towards them, with Daur at his side. Behind them came Gaunt’s Scion guard, Beltayn, some tacticae officers, a woman with an augmetic golden mask, and several individuals who looked like scratch company partisans. Curth didn’t know them at first. Then she saw the face of one of them.

  ‘Oh feth, Viktor,’ she whispered. ‘It’s the Beati.’

  ‘Hark?’ Gaunt said as he arrived.

  ‘The door won’t budge, my lord,’ said Hark. ‘I even took a shot at it.’

  Laksheema pushed forward and stared at the door. ‘A las-round will hardly tear down–’

  ‘Plasma gun, inquisitor,’ Hark said. ‘Full load, point blank.’

  ‘My lord?’ said Sancto. ‘Shall we?’

  ‘No disrespect, Sancto, but I don’t think you and your men are going to make a better dent than Hark,’ replied Gaunt.

  ‘It’s bound shut,’ said Laksheema. She had been stooping to examine the door. ‘The warp is holding it.’

  ‘You sense that?’ asked the Beati.

  ‘Don’t you?’ asked Laksheema. ‘My lord, even if we could force it, we have no idea what’s on the other side.’

  ‘My regiment–’ Gaunt replied.

  ‘And what else besides?’ asked Laksheema. She adjusted her micro-bead link. ‘I will summon my staff. We need specialist assistance.’

  She frowned.

  ‘My link is dead,’ she said.

  ‘No response from any vox source below,’ Beltayn called out. He’d set his vox-unit against the wall and was adjusting the settings. ‘Dead air. No microlink. No vox-unit. Just–’

  Beltayn jumped in surprise, and pulled the headset away from his ears.

  ‘What the feth–?’ he gasped.

  ‘Bel?’ asked Curth, crossing to him.

  ‘I heard a voice,’ Beltayn said. ‘A child, weeping.’

  ‘Speaker!’ Gaunt ordered.

  Beltayn switched the set to speaker output. There was a hiss of static, then they could all hear the tinny yet distinct sound of sobbing. A young voice, far away, in anguish.

  ‘Grae?’ said Laksheema over the eerie sound. ‘Go get my team, please.’

  Grae nodded.

  ‘And tell Van Voytz we have a red status location,’ Gaunt added. ‘Biota, you and your team go too. Start briefing on everything we know.’

  ‘Which is precious little,’ replied Biota.

  ‘Do it anyway.’

  Grae was already running back along the hall. Biota and his aides turned to follow him.

  ‘Biota?’ Gaunt called.

  ‘My lord?’ Biota responded, pausing to look back.

  ‘You said my daughter went down there?’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  Gaunt cleared his throat. ‘Carry on,’ he said. Biota and his aides hurried after Grae.

  Curth looked at Gaunt. She gripped his arm.

  ‘We’ll get in,’ she said.

  ‘I know,’ Gaunt replied.

  ‘The offspring of the Great Master,’ Laksheema muttered.

  ‘What?’ said Hark.

  ‘Do you not recall, commissar?’ Laksheema said, glancing at him. ‘The signal from the Archenemy warship that spared the Armaduke so mysteriously. The translation provided by the pheguth spoke of “the offspring of the Great Master”. A child, a daughter. The noun was female.’

  ‘You remember all that?’ Hark asked.

  ‘I have reviewed the reports many times,’ Laksheema said. ‘Merity Chass was aboard the Armaduke. She is here now. She is the offspring of a Great Master… a Lord Executor perhaps? Major Kolea’s misfortunes may have been a wilful distraction. A creation of significance. That’s how it translated. All this shall be the will of he whose voice drowns out all others.’

  ‘The feth are you suggesting?’ Hark asked, stepping forward. Gaunt held up a hand to him in warning.

  ‘We have been confounded by the Archenemy’s actions,’ said Laksheema. ‘We have many elements that do not fit together. All we agree on is that Sek achieved something after the Eltath raid, and now enters a new phase of attack. It would seem that is here, now, beneath us. Elements begin to connect.’

  ‘The hell they do,’ said Hark.

  The sobbing continued to crackle from Beltayn’s vox-unit.

  ‘Turn it off,’ said Curth.

  ‘Should I, my lord?’ asked Beltayn.

  Gaunt nodded. Beltayn reached for the speaker switch. Just before he could throw it, the noise of weeping shut off and was replaced by a hellish shrieking roar. The volume was so great, it blew out the vox-caster’s speakers. Smoke wafted from the ruined set.

  ‘What the Throne was that?’ asked Auerben.

  ‘It sounded like… a surgical saw,’ Curth said.

  ‘A bone saw,’ said Daur. ‘That’s what Elodie said. Whatever attacked at Low Keen, it sounded like a bone saw.’

  Gaunt took a step towards the undercroft doors and drew his power sword. The blade powered up with a fierce hum.

  ‘No, my lord!’ Laksheema cried.

  ‘My daughter’s down there,’ Gaunt said. ‘My daughter and my regiment.’

  ‘And my fething wife!’ Daur snarled at the inquisitor. ‘Step the hell back!’

  ‘Please, my lord,’ Laksheema protested.

  ‘Do it,’ said the Beati quietly. ‘There is death down there. The child is weeping. All the children. Every soul.’

  ‘Positions!’ Sancto growled. The Scions raised their hellguns and fanned out to flank Gaunt. Auerben and Sariadzi hoisted their assault weapons. Daur had drawn his sidearm.

  Gaunt swung the power sword of Heironymo Sondar at the doors with both hands. Wood splintered and billowed out, burning. A bloom of flickering, sickly energy surrounded the blade as it slashed across
the panels, as if the blade was biting not just through ancient wood, but through the skin of some subspace membrane. There was a flash, and Gaunt staggered back a few steps.

  This time, damage had been done. The centre panels of the ancient, heavy doors were blackened and crumbling. Arcane energy fizzled and spat frothing residue from the collapsing wood.

  Sancto and Daur moved in, tearing at the ruined wood, dragging sections of the damaged doors away.

  ‘Be careful!’ Laksheema warned.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Curth asked Gaunt. He flexed his grip on the power sword.

  ‘It nearly overloaded,’ he replied. ‘I’ve never known it fight and buck in my hands like that.’

  Stendhal, one of the other Scions, moved in to assist Sancto and Daur. The other two raised their weapons to their cheeks, and sighted the centre section of the door.

  Daur, Stendhal and Sancto hauled the doors apart. Both doors fell away in their hands, disintegrating into hot dust and embers that the men threw aside.

  ‘Something’s awry–’ Beltayn began to say.

  ‘Oh, Emperor protect us!’ Curth exclaimed, clasping her hands to her mouth.

  Behind the burned and shattered doors, there was no doorway. Just the solid, white-washed stone of the wall, perfectly intact, as though no door had ever existed.

  By the time the trucks rolled onto the rockcrete apron of Eltath Mechanicore 14, visibility had dropped to thirty metres.

  Major Pasha peered out of the cab, then looked down to check the rumpled chart in its plastek sleeve.

  ‘Grim place,’ murmured Konjic at the wheel.

  Pasha nodded and held out her hand. The adjutant passed her the vox handset without hesitation. Pasha held it to her mouth and thumbed it on.

  ‘R Company lead,’ she said, ‘let’s see who’s home, and make our purpose clear. Elam? Please to do honours.’

  She took her thumb off the button.

  ‘Loud and clear, lead,’ said Elam over the link.

  She held the button down again.

  ‘Convey my respect,’ she said. ‘Everybody else, stand by. This runs according to pattern agreed. Kolosim? Hold the rearguard on the approach road. No one get twitchy until I say they get twitchy.’

  Konjic’s vox set, on the seat between them, pipped out a little flutter of vox signal-bursts as each company leader in the convoy behind her acknowledged.