Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 250
"What a midden," Brontes grumbled as they walked through the city.
"Aye, stinks like the crapper after a Brosqut pie," Wulfe concurred.
"Your olfactory distress is irrelevant," Pycelo snapped from the front of the column.
"Easy for you to say," Jordig retorted, "You don't have my nose, I can't tell you how many people have taken a crap in the last hour and what the diet is around here."
Kerubim tried not to groan as they marched along, wending a course from the spaceport to the Governor's Palace. Behind them trailed twin lines of Skitarii, marching with rad-weapons held upright in perfect grips, while ahead Pycelo lumbered along, his bulk blocking the view frequently. They had been met at the Spaceport by a convoy of Taurox, but it was obvious the Magos Explorator was too large to ride in so compact a vehicle and they'd had elected to walk. The Governor had retreated post-haste, promising a grand reception when they arrived.
Kerubim cast his eyes over the surroundings, seeing curious and timid faces staring out of windows as they passed. These people seemed unremarkable, merely ordinary people living out their lives. Strange that with the great rift in the sky people could still find time to laugh and drink and screw, raise families and mourn over loved ones. There was something admirable in that, an act of stubborn courage that defined humanity, or stupid ignorance to the scope of the threat. Kerubim suspected it may be both.
Beyond the buildings loomed a titanic pyramid, casting the city into shadow as the sun sank behind it. Kerubim had never seen the like, to his altered eyes it was completely opaque. There was no flow of motive force in its mass, no hidden circuits or energy matrix buried within. It was inert in every way he could measure, totally blank and impenetrable. No wonder Magos Explorators beyond count had failed to uncover its secrets, for there were none. Its existence was baffling, but thankfully there was someone present to explain.
"Brontes," Kerubim asked, "What do the pyramids do?"
"Do? They do nothing," came the response.
"Then why build them?"
"They're warning buoys, signs that this world is off-limits, to anyone who wishes to remain alive. Universal markers, requiring no translation. Any sane race should take one look and decide this planet is bad news."
"A giant 'keep out' notice," Wulfe scoffed, "Didn't think to leave a note to explain why?"
"We thought it self-evident," Brontes grumbled, "We never accounted for how stupid and blind humanity would become in his backwards era."
Kerubim noted the passing faces were starting to whisper to each other, worried expressions causing many to duck back behind window frames or disappear into doorways. At first he took it for fear of Pycelo's mechanical bulk, or Brontes' broad mass, or even Skitarii guns but quickly he realised the people were staring at him. His face was inhuman, shining like silver. Among a company of Tech-Priests he might pass as an augmentation but in Space Marine armour he stuck out. He looked like a mutant, something the Imperium taught its citizens to fear and hate from birth. He didn't like it and hastily donned his helm, hiding his face behind smooth ceramite. Autosenses blunted his eyes and they left the worried face behind but Kerubim muttered, "Now I know how the Aberrants feel."
Their path brought them to the edge of the Governor's Palace and Brontes uttered, "Explain again why we are here and not scouring the planet from orbit?"
Jordig sighed, "Cawl is trying, but there are ways and means of blocking orbital scans. I can think of a dozen ways to fool Zar-Quaesitor's auspex, and Dannye is far more versed in Techno-scripture than I."
"But why are we here?!"
Pycelo answered, "Because I know my gene-son. Ruuka prides himself on thinking outside the box, of never sticking to accepted doctrine and using his wits instead. If Ruuka thinks there's something to be found on this planet, he'll come talk to the locals first."
"Waste of time," Brontes growled.
"Be diplomatic," Jordig urged.
"I'm not sure he knows what diplomacy is," Kerubim muttered.
"Yes I do, diplomacy is keeping them talking till your snipers are in position."
The party drew up at one end of a wide square, where the Governor and his entourage awaited them. A crowd started to cheer as the Magos came into sight, prompted by armed guards with guns. A brass band sprang up with a truly awful tune and festive banners were waved high. Before the crowd a double line of men stepped forward, dressed in white with bells tied to their ankles. They waved swords in the air as they lifted their feet and moved nearer.
Kerubim saw Brontes' arms start to rise and the Cadmus growled, "They move to attack us!"
He hastily opened a private vox-link and hissed, "Brontes, stand down!"
"They move towards me with weapons drawn, they die for that," Brontes snarled over the vox.
"It's a ritual greeting, not an attack formation. Stand down."
"This is how they greet us, a primitive tribal dance like pre-spaceflight savages?! I thought those cogsheads aboard the ship were bad enough, but this is a farce."
Before the waiting visitors the dancers moved into a square, then began to move back and forth. In lines and circles they danced, clashing swords in the air, blithely unaware how close they had come to being gunned down. Minutes dragged by as the men leapt and bowed, bells ringing and the occasional huzzah echoing over the crowd. Onlookers clapped along, seemingly more interested in the dance than the visitors, though to Kerubim it dragged like a loadstone about his neck.
Finally the dance concluded and Governor Bryne moved forward, spreading his arms to declare, "Welcome to Cippum, we are glad to greet any who come to marvel at our crystal pyramids!"
Pycelo's voice uttered from a vox-speaker, "I thank you for your reception. Long have I desired to study this world and its mysteries."
"Many do," Bryne replied jovially, "Many visitors come, two, in so short a time bodes well. Truly the God-Emperor favours our world once more!"
Pycelo's voice dropped a notch as he hissed, "Another has come, a rival?"
Bryne waved off the hostile tone, expecting rivalry between Magos and replied, "A humble troop came through recently, they neglected our wonders and went off into the wilderness. Disappointing, but we are not lesser for their departure. All our wonders remain pristine!"
Over the vox-link Brontes growled, "Circuit rot, Ruuka's been through here and took off already. Curse him, I thought he might be delayed scouring the planet, but if he knows where to look any chance we had is gone."
"He ain't got so big a head-start," Wulfe interrupted.
"Wulfe?!" Kerubim started, "This is a private link!"
"Not so private lad," Wulfe snorted.
"Truly, your vox-protocols are weak," Jordig scoffed, "Remind me to teach you how to encode properly when we get back."
Kerubim gritted his teeth but Brontes barked, "This is no laughing matter, Ruuka and his ilk are on the trail of the Hungering. This is a nightmare waiting to unfold. We must return to Zar-Quaesitor at once and rain down virus bombs on this planet!"
Stunned silence sank into the vox and the enormity of what the Cadmus was saying sank in. He gulped, "You... You want us to Exterminatus this planet, kill fifty million people without trying to save them?!"
"It would stop Ruuka before he can breach the tomb."
Jordig cut in, "That's not going to happen, not while we still have a chance to stop it."
"You must, I know your Imperium burns worlds all the time, don't pretend it isn't true."
Jordig retorted, "Only when we have no choice, and typically by an Inquisitor. Exterminatus of a world draws unwelcome attention, scrutiny Cawl cannot afford. He already has enough enemies in the Mechanicus without turning the Inquisition against him."
"I can't believe you'd risk letting Ruuka open that vault?!" Brontes snapped.
"And if he has already?" Wulfe argued, "You said Virus Bombs wouldn't stop a Nanoswarm, if it's out and we burn this planet, then any chance we have to stop its spread is gone. You want every Magos out there to wonder what Cawl's trying to hide here and come snooping?"
"No," Brontes hissed, "But we need to act."
Kerubim pressed, "You wouldn't happen to know where the Hungering is buried?"
"That was classified above my level," Brontes spat.
"Then we'll just have to wait and see what Pycelo can tease from the Governor."
"Frak," Brontes uttered, "That."
Suddenly the Cadmus surged forward, storming past Pycelo to bear down on the Governor. The crowd yelped in alarm and shrank back, men and women skipping backwards before the Battle-automata's wroth as small children shrank behind their mother's skirts, crying loudly. Brontes ignored them all as he stormed up to the stunned Governor, Bryne standing with mouth open in shock as the Cadmus pointed a Fission-Blaster at his head and growled, "You, tell me where the others went!"
Kerubim's jaw fell in disbelief as Bryne gasped, "You can talk?!"
A young man behind him stammered, "Da, is it supposed to do that?!"
"Answer the question!" Brontes snarled.
Kerubim couldn't believe it, after all their hard work concealing the Abominable Intelligence's nature Brontes only went and revealed himself to a crowd. It was mind-boggling he'd take such a risk and Kerubim found his feet moving of their own accord as he cried, "My Battle-Automata detects a threat! It is programmed to seek rival Magos and confront them. You must answer it, else it will become violent!"
"Make it stop!" Bryne cried as Brontes' weapon system began to glow with caged nuclear fission.
"I cannot, its Doctrinal Wafers are ancient and poorly understood. The Machine Spirit must be appeased with information," Kerubim called out.
"I don't..." Bryne stammered.
But the young man yelled, "The Sea of Annwyn, they went to the Sea of Annwyn."
Brontes stood for a moment then lowered his arms. The crowd froze wondering what would happen next but Brontes merely turned his back on them and strode away, heading back to the spaceport. Kerubim sagged with relief while the crowd began to chatter, anger and fear letting vent at the unexpected turn of events. Outrage began to steal over them but Pycelo had already spun on his axis to walk away, following Brontes back to their landing craft. Kerubim followed, stepping quickly to keep up as the Skitarri withdrew in precise order.
"Looks like we be heading to this seaside," Wulfe grumbled.
"Let us be in time," Kerubim muttered, "Throne's of Terra, let us get there in time."