Speculum Enigmate Chapter 9

Under the red sun Pasdem city went about its business. Millions of people going through the same routines they had since time immemorial. Merchants hawked their wares, bakers baked, drovers moved cattle to slaughterhouses, drivers brought tons of rice and grain into warehouses. Shuttles lifted off from the spaceports and factorums belched thick smoke into the bloody sky. Outside the Genic Council's Laboritorum-domes long queues of people stood patiently, waiting to find out who their children would be assigned to wed, the fact that many of them were still pregnant a piffling detail. On the wide roads cargo-8's and ground-cabs trundled along while on the pavements more traditional nobles lounged in litters bourn on the shoulders of handsome bearers, forcing lesser caste-members out of their way with kicks and shouts to make way.

Odrin sat in a wicker chair, lingering over a steaming cup of coff'a as he watched the city going about its business. He was on the third floor of an exclusive café, a place where deals had been struck and bargains forged for millennia. To his left a wide glassic panel revealed a beautiful vista of the city, the Jade Citadel a vague impression of domes in the distance. Nearer the bronzed floor of the Flesh-Market bustled, the factors selling the product of their breeding to various dignitaries. Here the fruit of Pascum's genic breeding was displayed, the most physically perfect examples of human stock standing proudly on stages waiting for a master or mistress to determine them their future lives. The idea that some of them might not want to become household guards, field workers or Bateman never occurring either to seller or buyer. Odrin's eyes fixed upon an off-worlder, some Imperial functionary negotiating for a distant master. He was trying to buy a pair of courtesans and the notion disgusted Odrin, not for the sale but that the master hadn't bothered to come himself. Surely the distant leach wouldn't appreciate the training and discipline instilled into the stock of Pascum, he wouldn't see past fair skin and alluring bodies to appreciate the keen minds and cunning wits instilled into the courtesans. Those ladies were bound for lives of dreary lechery at the hands of a venal idiot. Yet one more example of Odrin's right to seize power and throw off the Imperium's shackles.

Odrin forced his attention back to his table companions, two men in rich robes who were sat over cups of cooling Coff'a without touching them. The first had the swarthy features of the southern hemisphere, where the Genic council favoured heavier builds. This was Lernah, a noble associate from the distant reaches of the planet who shared Odrin's ambitions. The other had the narrow features and keen spatial awareness of the caste-spacefarers, those assigned to work the orbital defence stations and spacedocks floating over Pascum. His name was Turgo and he was a middling officer, bitter of the advancements he had not received. The pair of them were a part of Odrin's efforts to usurp the Dominus' crown, though they didn't know that, they thought this was some grand revolution to liberate Pascum. Removing the Imperium was indeed part of the plan, but not the point, it was merely a hurdle to be overcome. Still Odrin couldn't hope to rule a planet unsupported, so men and women like this were necessary.

Turgo was speaking in a low voice, "The lower ranks of Galipos Starfort are with us, we now have supporters in every orbital facility. We can start making inroads to the higher ranks."

Odrin replied in a steady voice, knowing the servants had been bred for generations not to hear the conversations of their betters, "No, they are too close to the Dominus, she has spies among their ranks. When the great day dawns it's better to sweep away the Imperial lickspittles wholesale than risk counter-revolutionaries lingering."

Turgo frowned as he commented, "With only the lower ranks on our side resistance will be fierce. The Senior commanders will fight back. It will be bloody work taking the orbitals."

"Acceptable casualties," Odrin demurred, "We can breed replacements soon enough. Now, what of the south?"

Lernah had been recruiting allies in the most remote corners of Pascum and replied, "The noble house of Vindara and the Merchant Guilds in the cities of Linkaea, Madasa and Juntas are sworn to rise at your command."

Odrin's eyes narrowed as he hissed, "What of the Houses of Wanera and Timonr and the Industrial Cartels of the South?"

Lernah's face fell as he answered, "They were not receptive."

"You failed to recruit them?!" Odrin snapped, "You promised me you could turn them!"

Lernah wasn't about to be browbeaten and said, "They are stubborn fools, unwilling to listen to us. The Genic Council's hold on the South has been waning for centuries, too much Ecclessiarchy doggerel poured into their ears. The people are forgetting their Genic purity, sullying themselves with unclean practices and forgetting their place."

Turgo asked, "Perhaps we need a way to turn the people against the Imperium. Another slaughter like Derekes…"

"No," Odrin cut them off, "It's too unpredictable."

Lernah eyed him sullenly as he pointed out, "It worked well enough for you, 'Butcher'."

Odrin glared back as he snapped, "Do you think I wanted to order our own people killed? No, but it had to be. That hag Aleys finally realised she had lost control, that the people were rising against her. She knew how precarious her position was, so when I stepped in and fixed the problem for her, and took all the blame, she was delighted. Her rule was secure and no blame could be laid at her door. I was made First Secretary but it was a gamble, so many things could have gone wrong. We can't chance it again."

The other two looked sullen but Odrin continued, "Remember who we are. Pascum is a proud and sovereign world. We can trace our lineage back to the first colonisation. We survived the Age of Strife alone and the Noctis Aeterna too. Our planet doesn't need the Imperium, we never did. We are a great world and the children of Pascum are inherently better than the riffraff of the Imperium. We are an exceptional people, thanks to our genic superiority."

Lernah muttered, "Damned Imperials, our forefathers should never have bowed to them."

Turgo snorted, "It was hard for our ancestors to refuse when warships sat in orbit proclaiming, 'submit or die'. But now the Imperium is weak and distracted, it's time to throw off the yoke of Terra."

Lernah snorted, "I'll be glad to see the back of them. Why just last month my next Bateman ran off to join the Guard. His place at my feet had been assigned for him since birth and he thinks to flee to the stars!"

Odrin nodded solemnly, "Remember it is not only armies and fleets we battle, but ideas. The notions of random genetic breeding, marrying who you will and seeking life roles other than the one assigned to you must be burnt away. Pascum will be made clean once more, our history demands it. Now go and be ready for my call to rise in rebellion."

They were good words and seemed to satisfy the others. Odrin didn't care for their beliefs but so long as they served his cause he would parrot the expected phrases. Mollified his guests stood up and bowed briefly, leaving him alone at his table. Odrin leaned back in his chair and swallowed his Coff'a, a black and bitter brew of potent caffine, a local delicacy far superior to imported Recaff. He looked across the plaza, over the heads of the vendors plying their stock, to the imposing Arbites Precinct. Its redoubtable walls and many guns looming over the lives of Pascum's people, an unsubtle promise of Imperial retribution. They were another obstacle in Odrin's way, one he had made careful plans to eliminate when the time came.

His thoughts were interrupted as a pair of serving girls placed another Coff'a on the table. Such was an expected action but to his total shock the girls slipped into the vacant chairs across from him. Odrin was outraged by the presumption, how dare such low-caste serviles sit with him. Their attire proclaimed how far their caste was beneath his and even speaking to him was an affront. Outraged he spluttered, "How dare you, I should have you whipped through the streets!"

They should be cowering in fear but bizarrely they didn't seem concerned as the first said, "You're making too much noise brother."

The other added, "The Mother is displeased with you."

Odrin's next words died in his throat and his guts clenched in fear as he realised who he was speaking to. These were no serviles of the cafe, they were agents of a far larger and more sinister organisation, one that had trained and sponsored Odrin, setting him on the path to where he was today. Odrin's rise to power had been no random event; it had been carefully orchestrated by a hidden web of agents, who had steered his path according to the design of an organisation calling itself the Kiith. Odrin owed everything to those shadowy figures, who had placed him where they wanted him to be, and he was in no way prepared to cross them.

Slowly Odrin swallowed as he changed tack, "Sister and sister, I had not expected to see you today. It's been so long since I saw a contact."

The first replied with cold eyes, "The Kiith are everywhere, you know this. We have been keeping an eye on you."

The other added, "We had been pleased with your progress, until recently."

Odrin felt like his neck was in a noose as he said, "I have done exactly as instructed. I have made myself indispensable to the Dominus; I have made the people ready to rise up in every city."

The first didn't seem impressed as she growled, "Your actions draw too much notice, we have had to silence several Imperial spies who caught wind of your conspiracies."

The other added, "The Inquisition knows something is off, an Inquisitor is en-route to investigate."

Odrin's heart clenched in fear, an Inquisitor was the last thing he wanted on the planet, those Imperial watchdogs and spymasters. Fearfully he stammered, "An… an Inquisitor?"

The first confirmed, "She won't be alone, Space Marines are accompanying her."

The statement made Odrin breath out in relief, "Oh, is that what's caused concern? I thought we were in trouble for a second."

The other's lip drew back angrily, revealing teeth that had been filed to points as she spat, "Is this funny to you?"

Odrin shook his head as he explained, "I was there when the Dominus sent for aid, rest assured it has nothing to do with us. The Imperium thinks we are dealing with civilian protests and work-slowdowns. They have no idea of the Kiith's existence."

The first hissed suspiciously, "You are certain?"

Odrin replied with a smile, "If they knew of the Kiith they would be sending a warfleet, not a ceremonial envoy. This is nothing but a sign that my plan is working."

"Your plan?!" the other spat contemptuously, "You grow arrogant and reckless, the Kiith set this plan in motion generations before you were born. We planted the seeds of the One God. We arranged the slaughter at Derekes to foster rebellion in the hearts of the people, even as the Dominus came to trust you as her right-hand man."

The first added, "Do not think yourself indispensable to the cause, no individual is more important than the One God."

Odrin placed his hands on the table as he stated, "Do not take me for a weak fool, I shall rule Pascum when this is done."

"As the public face," the first allowed, "But do not forget who you yet answer to, brother. The Kiith is more than a cause or a banner, we are a family, bound by blood and faith."

"The Mother would be displeased to think you forget your place in the family," the other spat, "She chose you to infiltrate the Dominus' court, she would hate to have to remove you and start again."

Odrin heart grew cold at the thought of that shadowy figure who ruled the Kiith from behind a veil of mystery. Her presence was elusive but her reach was long and she had eyes everywhere. Even he could not dare to cross her and hope to live long. So he said softly, "Tell the Mother all is in hand, the stage is set and the final act is in motion. The royal wedding will be our firebrand to whip the populace into a frenzy; when it falls apart the people will rise up against the Imperium in outrage. The Imperial yoke will be cast off, the Bassail dynasty will crumble and I shall ascend to the Dominus's place. As the Mother's loyal and obedient servant, of course. We shall own this planet and nobody will even know the Kiith exist."

The first glared as she hissed, "If this works you shall rule the day, but remember we own the night. If you think to forsake your family once you have your hands on the crown then your reign will be shorter than you can imagine."

The other added, "There are worse things than the Mother's wrath. Should Grandfather think you have betrayed us…"

Odrin's mouth went dry at the warning, bad enough to have the subtle and cunning leader of his organisation upset at him but her brutal counterpart was another thing entirely. Odrin had seen the tattered remnants of those who failed displayed as a warning for the youngest recruits to see. None could look upon those grizzly murals made of eviscerated bodies and not be terrified of the one referred to only as 'Grandfather'. Despite their innocuous use of familial titles it was clear that any who betrayed the trust of their hidden masters would meet the most horrific and violent of ends.

With that the pair of women stood up and left Odrin to ponder on his fate. He stared at his cooling Coff'a and fretted, keenly aware of the tightrope he was walking. On one side the unthinking Imperials would shoot him, on the other his hidden allies would do far worse than that. Unfortunately it was too late for him to back out and run, the only option was to continue. He had to overthrow the Dominus and cast the Imperium off Pascum. His plans must succeed else his death was certain.