Speculum Enigmate Chapter 14
Night fell over the city as lingering traces of scarlet faded along the horizon. The stars above blazed brilliantly, shining through a cold and cloudless night. Many of them were in fact orbital facilities, ships and dockyards and starforts that eternally circled this ancient world but others were genuine stars. They shone as they had since before the rise of man, but now they were marred by a faint smear of purple: the Cicatrix Maledictum, that great warp rift that split the galaxy in twain. Physics said the light of the rupture should take tens of thousands of years to reach this deep into the Imperium, yet Chaos had never paid much attention to physical laws.
The people of this world dealt with that paradox by ignoring it. The workers had finished their labours and so turned their attention to more pleasurable pursuits. In the poorer districts revellers drank and caroused, while dancers paraded through the streets. They were celebrating more than just the end of a hard day, the Engagement of their Dominus' son was a time for joy and mirth. The people loved a distraction from the dreary toil of their lives and the announcement of a royal wedding was the perfect excuse to party. Carnival-caste performed their arts for the crowds, merchant-caste vendors hawked meat patties and sweet-breads from stands and publicans kept their bars open to all. Small children were hoisted onto their father's shoulders to watch as lines of dancers paraded under the cover of paper dragons while entertainers in gaudy colours banged brass gongs rhythmically. And all the while Constables worked twice as hard to keep the thief-caste from getting too bold.
The joy of the crowd was palpable but there was one soul who didn't share their elation. Odrin marched along the corridors of the Jade Citadel with a solemn expression, betraying no hint of warmth. Before him serviles scattered, not daring to draw his ire, few indeed would be bold enough to cross the First Secretary of Pascum. The Citadel was bedecked with bunting and night-blossoms that hung from the arches, the nocturnal blooming petals filling the air with a sweet lilac scent. Visiting guests and dignitaries drifted through the halls, observing musicians playing in every corner and dancers performing in the hopes of attracting a rich patron. Odrin saw one young man cavorting in the arches of a fountain, his movements carrying him between the soaring plumes with perfecting timing so he was never splashed.
Odrin knew all this gaiety was a front; the revels were nothing more than a distraction from the ugly incident in the Summer Ballroom. The nobles were shocked and dismayed by the confrontation between the Space Marines and the Inquisition. It had thrown the carefully planned celebrations into bedlam and cast a pall over the entire gathering. Naturally the social elite reacted to the disaster as they always did, by scheming for advantage, shifting their allegiances and making fresh deals with former enemies as new patterns of influence emerged. Odrin should have been a part of that scheming, he should be working to restore the structures that supported the Dominus, but secretly he could not have been more pleased. That idiot Space Marine Persion could not have done more to advance the cause of the Kiith if he tried. He'd painted the Imperium as belligerent warmongers and violent bullies and as soon as the common folk heard of it they'd be outraged. They'd certainly hear of it, Odrin had agents working right now to make sure the word got out. Persion's foolishness had practically opened the door for Odrin to act.
Odrin's measured march had brought him to a wide doorway, guarded by a pair of burly men in bronzed amour and carrying ceremonial staves with pain-goads built into the ends. The men nodded knowingly as he approached, for Odrin had bought their loyalty long ago and they had been waiting for his arrival. The men had guaranteed the corridor was clear so there would be no witnesses and they knocked on the door to indicate the time had come. The door opened slightly and a nervous face peered out. It was Goddun, the Dominus' heir and he had been waiting for Odrin's arrival. The young man waved the First Secretary inside and Odrin entered, finding a luxurious suite of private rooms. Goddun wrung his hands as he said, "Finally, I thought you'd never come."
Odrin faked an insincere smile as he replied, "Be at peace, all is in order for your departure."
"It better be," Goddun whined, "I can't stay here, I can't marry that cold fish Proam calls a daughter."
Odrin didn't bother to reply, for the wedding was never going to happen. The boy was weak, insipid and dissolute; he didn't have the drive and ruthless ambition needed to rule a world. The Genic council had bred a perfect specimen, genetically, but his spirit was timid and indecisive. The people of Pascum would never admit it but certain traits couldn't be bred, courage, decisiveness and guile had to be taught and Goddun had singularly failed to acquire any of them. Goddum would a puppet king, following the advice of whoever was standing at his shoulder. Normally that would suit Odrin, he could rule from the shadows but then he would be competing with the Viscount's daughter for influence and he didn't tolerate any rival to his ambition. Besides, the Kiith had larger plans for this one.
There was a soft cough from an ante-chamber and a short woman with flowing locks that cascaded down her shoulders peered out, one of the servile maids who worked in the Jade Citadel, bred for obedience and appearance, not intelligence. She looked up at Odrin and asked, "Is this the one?"
Goddum smiled at her and said, "Yes Petalia, he will take us to freedom."
The young woman rushed out to grab the heir's hand, an innocent expression of hope plastered over her dim-witted face. Odrin hid a mocking grin at the sight. These two had broken Pascum's taboo on unplanned unions, daring to fall in love and thinking to run away together. Odrin should have been outraged when he found out, but in truth he had been forced to swallow his laughter. The pair had given him everything he needed, the corruption of Pascum's ideals with off-world notions and their planned flight, all of it played right into his hands. He had presented himself as an ally, gaining their trust and helping them concoct a scheme to flee off the planet and seek new lives among the stars. They had swallowed his lies without question, little realising he had no intentions of fulfilling his word.
Odrin drew himself upright and declared, "We have to go."
Goddun looked back into his rooms and said, "I have bagsā¦"
"No time for that," Odrin snapped, "The hour is ripe, we have to depart immediately."
"But what will we do for money?" Goddun asked.
"It's taken care of," Odrin lied effortlessly, "I have friends waiting in orbit to carry you away. I wouldn't help you flee only to leave you in poverty."
Petalia whispered, "We don't need money, my love, so long as we have each other."
Insipid idiocy, Odrin thought, the kind of poetic nonsense believed only by young folk who had spent too much time reading the romantic trash published by off-world hucksters. A few years living penniless in gutters would knock the innocence out of these two, not that Odrin intended to let that happen. Still at least it got the pair moving and they followed Odrin out of the rooms, walking hand in hand as if this was some grand adventure. The guards fell in at Odrin's gesture and they hurried through the Jade Citadel, moving with furtive speed, wary of observers. Odrin had taken care to make sure their path was clear but all it would take was one drunken reveller to stumble into the way and his plan would be ruined. Which was why had a laspistol stashed up his sleeve.
Odrin paused at a stairwell, then headed downwards but Goddun spluttered, "We're going down, not up?!"
Odrin replied, "How would it look, launching into orbit straight from the Jade Citadel? You will take a secret exit to the undercity and lie low for a few days, before sneaking to the starport."
"Oh yes, it makes sense I suppose," Goddum allowed.
Idiot, Odrin thought, if he had any loyalty to the Dominus he'd be doing her a favour by shooting this cretin and letting her daughter inherit instead. Otlie would be a far more effective ruler than this moron could ever be. Still it suited Odrin to humour the fool and he led them on, knowing they were nearly at their destination. They descended many levels, then emerged into a far more plain and functional corridor, one used by serviles not nobles, and headed off at a brisk pace.
As they walked Goddun commented, "I won't miss this place, I've always wanted to leave."
Odrin didn't care what the fool wanted but kept up the pretence as he said, "Many would think it a wonder to have such luxury."
"Luxury?!" Goddun spat, "It's a gilded cage. Every choice is made for me, every word and gesture planned out to the last detail. My potential was measured and my story was written before I was even born. Limits were set for me, before I even had a chance to test them. I want to live my own life, to make choices for myself and love who I want to love. You understand, don't you Odrin. You were born clerk-caste but you rose high on your own merits, you earned your place. I want to do the same, start from nothing and work my way up."
Odrin thought the lad was seriously overestimating his talents, to think he could ever earn anything on merit. The conceit of the rich and powerful was to think they understood what it was to be poor and powerless. Still he was almost rid of the dupe and paused before a barred gateway saying, "Here we are."
Goddun peered at the many plasteel bars sealing the doors shut and asked, "What is this, why don't I know about it?"
The guards began unbinding the gate as Odrin explained, "One of your honoured ancestors had this built, as an escape route. It leads to the undercity, where my friends await you. They will take care of you."
Goddun smiled vapidly as he said, "Thank you."
"It was nothing," Odrin replied with a rare flash of honesty as the gate swung open and the guards moved away to make sure the corridor was clear.
Behind the door was a dishevelled man, in ragged clothes, one of Odrin's contacts from the Kiith. The man had been waiting for them and made a secret sign, which Odrin returned with a countersign. He turned to the pair and said, "This man will lead you to a safe place, follow him and do as he says. In a few days we will smuggle you to the spaceport and then to the stars."
Petalia wrinkled her nose and protested, "It smells bad down there."
Yet Goddum replied, "It's only a brief discomfort then we shall be free, come my love, new lives await us. Goodbye Odrin, we can never repay you."
With that the pair walked into the darkness, following the Kiith agent into the depths. Odrin watched them go silently, counting their steps until the echoes faded. He gave no sign of it but he was well aware that they would never leave the undercity. Their dreams of a grand adventure would end with the kiss of a sharp knife, but not just yet, not until the moment was right. He would let the word of their escape leak out, then when the people's outrage was at bursting point the pair's gutted bodies would be found in an alleyway. The Viscount would be incandescent with fury and withdraw his support from the Dominus, taking the majority of the social elite with him, leaving her helpless and without allies. Meanwhile the populace would riot, inspired by provocateurs the Kiith had planted amongst them, rising in a violent explosion of frustrated resentment and indignation. All Odrin had to do was make sure it was directed at the right target.
The guards had their backs to him so they did not see him draw his laspistol and level it at their heads. One flash of las and a guard collapsed, the other dying before he even realised his companion had been shot. The two men slumped into boneless heaps, their cauterised skulls smoking from the blasts. Odrin carefully stepped over them and took a small scrap of cloth bearing an Imperial Aquila from his pocket, torn from the uniform of one of the Guard regiments being raised across the planet. He pressed it into the hand of one of the corpses and then stepped back. To a casual inspection it would look like the guard had ripped it off the uniform of an attacker in a fight, an Imperial infiltrator who had kidnapped the Dominus' heir. When word of this hit the streets the people of Pascum would rise up in rebellion, assisted from the shadows by the agents of the Kiith who had smuggled weapons into the city. In a few days they would tear down the hated symbols of Imperial rule and then the Dominus who supported them.
With a jaunty stride Odrin turned his back on his murder site and walked away. The plan was finally in motion, the pieces moving according to a scheme he had devised decades earlier. The Dominus' regime was about to fall and Odrin would ascend from the ashes to claim her crown. Everything was going according to plan but there was one random factor left to deal with. He chewed his lip as he thought about the Inquisitor and the Space Marines, they would not sit idle and would certainly seek the thwart his ambitions. He determined it was better to eliminate them before the rebellion erupted. Yes, the Imperials had outlived their usefulness; it was time the Kiith arranged a suitably grizzly end for them.
