Adelana tugged the book out of the returns cart but paused as she began to slip it onto the shelf. She turned to Seleen, who was taking books from her cart a few metres away.

'Hey, Seleen,' said Adelana.

'Yeah?' said the woman turning to her. 'How do you think Attelus...and the others are doing?'

Seleen smiled knowingly, 'Good question. He's probably doing something crazy dangerous and insane as normal.'

Seleen's words didn't bring Adelana any comfort, so she bit her lip and said nothing more as she placed the book back.


Attelus had no time to scream as he fell, as his guts seemed to drop into his toes and his heart lodged in his throat. He had less than a split second, according to Attelus' very rough calculations, a time his usual self would have no trouble with. But not now, not now.

With all his remaining strength, Attelus punched the blades into the wall, only a few centimetres from the edge. But it didn't stop him short as he'd hoped; the blades continued to slide down through the stone.

He cried out through clenched teeth as he scrambled to smash the other gauntlet into the wall, but his panic made him only flail out like a ranting child. But just as it came to the corner, the blades finally found purchase, and he stopped dead, his feet dangling over the sea of green hundreds of metres below.

And while all of this happened, the binging in his ears became faster and faster.

Snarling, he plunged his left gauntlet into the overhang, and while hissing, 'Come on, come on,' he waited for the blades to curl. It seemed like hours before they did, so he let himself hang out of sight and punched his right gauntlet up.

Then he waited, cursing and snarling through his constant gasping. The beeping from his micro-bead seemed to curl around his skull and inside his brain. He dearly wanted to turn the damned auspex off, but he needed it.

Eventually, the warbling began to slow down and, in all honesty, Attelus was more glad that it was disappearing than the fact the patrolling Sister was finally going away.

Groaning, he began to climb again; he couldn't let another second go to waste.


Attelus' legs almost gave way from under him when his feet found the walkway floor. But he managed to keep his feet, hunker down and wrap his cameleoline cloak around him. He couldn't believe it; he couldn't frigging believe he'd managed to make it!

He shook away his elation and blinked back his tiredness; Attelus then surveyed his surroundings. The walkway was a good five metres wide and made from rockcrete as he thought it would.

On the roof sat an empty landing pad, which he'd seen in the orbital picts and where he planned to make his incursion. The convent loomed overhead, further away from the wall than he thought. At least a good twenty metres.

With pained, numb fingers, he reached into a pouch on his webbing and slipped out his grapnel hook; then he realised his mistake; in his exhaustion, he'd forgotten about it until now. If he'd used it to ascend to the outcrop, it could've saved him a lot of trouble.

With a sigh, Attelus forced his body to move; he had to find a good place to ascend the convent without being spotted and maybe, just maybe, he might find a place up there to rest. Attelus had vastly underestimated how hard that climb would be, and he'd already thought it'd be horrific. He briefly considered using one of the stimm injectors in his pack but shook away the thought. It wasn't a combat enhancement stimm, just to give a short burst of energy and clear the head of the user. He only had six and using them when the real infiltration began, namely when he got inside, was wiser as he'd be far less likely to find a place to rest there. Attelus hadn't wanted to take them at first, but Enandra had outright ordered him to, and by frig, he was glad she did.

By the Emperor, he needed some sleep. "Some sleep" means a whole Terran winter's worth, but he would be lucky to get even an hour in this situation.

And Attelus Xanthis Kaltos had learned a long time ago that he could never rely on his "luck" at all.

Never.

Arlathan emerged from the bathroom as he slipped his bloody rubber gloves off.

'Any progress?' said Tathe, as he and Dellenger stood in wait in the corridor; just behind him were Vex and Darrance, both watching with wide eyes.

Arlathan glanced at Karmen as she closed the door behind them, and she shook her head.

'The bastard's tough,' said Arlathan. 'Even with the pain I caused, his mind stays closed to Karmen, it seems. Frig, I don't like resorting to this shit, but we haven't the time to muck around, damn it.

'I didn't hear any screams,' said Darrance.

'No,' said Karmen. 'I had his jaw shut closed with my telekinesis; we cannot afford anyone out there hearing that. We didn't question him verbally if you catch my drift.'

'We do,' said Darrance. 'No fear of your use of psychic abilities might be detected?'

Karmen frowned and rolled her eyes. 'It is a very subtle use of my powers, Saderth. You would need an individual with psychic powers only a few metres away to detect it.'

Darrance pursed his lips and shrugged, his arms folding across his chest, making him look even more feminine despite now having short hair. 'Just asking, found anything on the prisoner himself? Anything about him and who he works for?'

'His skin is pallid, almost grey,' said Arlathan. 'He seems unhealthy, but he's strong and is physically younger than he appears.'

Arlathan frowned, then looked at Karmen. 'Any idea how long it will take to get through the mind-block?'

She shrugged. 'A few days, maybe.'

'A few days we do not have,' said Vex.

Karmen rolled her eyes again.

Arlathan looked at Darrance and Vex. 'You two thought of a way to infiltrate the cathedral yet?'

Vex nodded and handed Arlathan a data slate. 'According to the local guides, pilgrims are allowed entrance into the cathedral itself for an hour midday Terran standard time.'

Arlathan raised an eyebrow and took the dataslate. 'What about the locals?'

'Not allowed,' said Darrance. 'Never, they have to use the various churches in the districts, but every evening they and the pilgrims stand vigil outside the cathedral from 8 in the evening local time to 10. Only the Ecclesiarchs and local officials are allowed to take daily mass in the cathedral itself, they used to do it every third day, but since the outbreak, they'd increased it to daily. Not a good thing to do in the middle of a deadly pandemic.'

'Of course,' said Arlathan sarcastically, ignoring Karmen's dark look. 'Anything about where the quarantine cases are being held?'

'Yes,' said Vex. 'A medicae facility named the...Refuge of the Martyred Angel. Easily the largest medicae facility in the city and the largest in the northern atmosphere. But they've also had to move many into several nearby community halls and two pilgrim staying houses. All of them are guarded to hell and back by the local militia, no one in, no one out.'

'Local Militia?' said Dellenger. 'What about the Magistratum? The Arbites?'

Vex shook his head. 'No mention of their involvement.'

'I'm liking this less and less,' said Karmen.

'Anything about this militia?' said Tathe.

'They were founded a few months ago,' said Darrance. 'Started by the local governor as a "holy order against the tides of heresy against us," it seems like his own personal army to me. And since their founding, they'd been taking care of the sick. How, exactly, the local propaganda doesn't bother to detail, of course. Brutally, I am guessing.'

'Having the local governor making the militia, huh,' said Tathe. 'Good way to get through the loophole of the Ecclesiarchy being unable to recruit men.'

'Nothing about the people being sent to the Sororitas convent?' said Arlathan, looking side-long at the former Commissar. Annoyed, the Commissar managed to see that conclusion a second before he did.

Vex smiled at him in his smug "of course not" way.

'Just to confirm,' said Tathe. '"No one" means not even people who are recovered?'

'That's the thing,' said Darrance. 'There's nothing about anyone recovering; people have been locked up inside those buildings since the beginning of the outbreak.'

'Is it the same with the other cities?' said Dellenger, a damned good question, Arlathan had to admit.

'Yeah,' said Vex. 'You think that frig in there could be part of that militia?'

Dellenger snorted. 'I doubt that; I have never encountered a "militia" with the ability to find me and keep up with me, but there's always a first for everything, as they say.'

'Also, a local militia man who's got a mind block strong enough that not even Karmen Kons is able to penetrate it,' said Arlathan. 'If he is, they're frigging hardcore. Scary hardcore.'

'Hardcore enough to call in reinforcements from the Inquisitor?' said Vex, with wide, hopeful eyes.

Arlathan shook his head. 'Not yet. We'll need more information before we resort to that, and it's only if it's the militia. It could be an unknown third part we don't know about.'

'Or Throne Agents,' said Dellenger. 'Throne Agents of this Inquisitor Soloston.'

'Maybe,' said Arlathan.

'Or agents of Etuarq,' said Darrance. 'Dellenger did well in making them slip, but it could have been a falsehood.'

'Or yet another Inquisitor,' said Karmen. 'But I'm thinking cultists. Frigging well funded, well trained and well-equipped cultists. A cult of one god in particular...'

'Indeed,' said Arlathan, liking the implication of that option even less. He looked at Darrance. 'So, I'm guessing we'll be infiltrating the cathedral disguised as pilgrims?'

Darrance grinned. 'Oh, how did you manage to guess that, Interrogator? But that depends. Which do you want to look into first? The cathedral or the medicae facility?'

'The cathedral,' said Arlathan without hesitation. 'We know that's where their private vox network is situated, and once we get access to that, we'll be able to monitor the communications to and from the quarantine facilities to find out what's going on there. Not just that, with the allowance of pilgrims inside, it will be much easier for us to get inside.'

Dellenger shrugged. 'Makes sense. But why not do both? Kalakor and I could infiltrate the medicae facility while the rest of you get inside the cathedral.'

Arlathan looked at Dellenger and pursed his lips; he wanted to tell the scout to "frig off", but he couldn't think of a good reason not to, especially because time was of the essence. No one knew how long it would be until they began getting sick.

'Alright,' said Arlathan. 'Go, find the Space Marine and brief him on what's going on.'

Dellenger nodded, turned to leave but hesitated, and he looked over everyone in turn. 'Is it just me, but does it seem that the local officials are trying their best to spread the infection?'

'No,' said Tathe. 'No, it's not just you, old friend. It's not just you.'


This time, when Attelus woke up, he didn't have to fight his eyelids from closing, despite the tiredness. His body had seemed to learn he didn't have the luxury for such dalliances right now.

Darkness greeted his gaze, and it took him a second to remember it was because his cameleoline cloak was wrapped around him. Groaning through his sore, raw throat, Attelus slid the cloak off his face; sun hit him like a punch to the nose, and he raised his hand to cover his eyes. After he'd zip-lined onto the convent's roof, he'd found a good place under one of the towers on each corner of the building, beneath the balcony there, made sure to do a damned good job to cover himself with his cameleoline cloak and almost instantly fell into a deep sleep. With the sun so high and strong, it must've been around midday, frig! How'd he manage to sleep for so long? How the hell hadn't he been discovered?

Was luck on his side for once?

The several hours of sleep didn't have seemed to do his exhaustion much good, in all honesty, but his body did feel a bit better. His enhanced metabolism must've worked well enough while he slept.

His stomach growled suddenly, so loud a sting of fear sliced into him, fearing someone else might hear it. So, he reached to his mask and opened the valve to allow the nutrient paste to pour into his mouth; despite it tasting like he thought grox shit might taste like, Attelus glugged it down; hunger was the best spice after all. To be precise, his re-breather was of similar design to those used by agents of the Officio Assassinorum, the snipers of the Vindicare Temple. It held an electrolyte liquid dispenser alongside the nutrient paste, which he gulped down after he'd finished "eating" the paste.

A few minutes afterwards, he stayed sitting and surveyed his surroundings. The roof was slanted a good twenty degrees, and far below, he could make out one of the Sisters was patrolling the wall. It seemed no one had found him, or if they had, they were pretending not to, to perhaps lead him into a trap, but the lack of logic in not trying to capture him while he was sleeping was ridiculous.

With his aching, stiff limbs, he climbed to his feet and began to approach the landing pad; he was lucky the roof wasn't steeper or moving in silence would've been ten times harder. As he moved, he reached into the pouch at the back of his belt and slipped out his security kit. It was an all in one thing, including an assortment of lock picks and an electronic one to hack almost any electronic lock in the Imperium of Mankind, similar to an Inquisitorial rosette. Attelus hoped it was an electronic lock as he wasn't the best at lockpicking, and it'd take him much longer. But he doubted it; Ecclesiarchy worlds were well known for being behind in technology, even the Adepta Sororitas. Attelus hoped that Inquisitor Soloston might've replaced the locks with new, more cutting edge ones. The machine would find the password in about a minute; Attelus might have to spend a few minutes doing it manually. The time he couldn't afford.

Attelus slipped up to the edge of the wall and looked around the corner, over the landing bay. Much to his hope, there was no sign of any patrolling Sisters of Battle, and why the frig would there be? Even still, he switched on his wrist auspex. He stepped around onto the landing bay and approached the door.

The lock was an ancient key accessed thing made out of heavy-duty iron.

Attelus sighed. It seemed his luck had finally run out after all.


'What do you think?' said Dellenger as he and Kalakor knelt behind the parapet of a hab-block and watched the medicae facility around a kilometre down the street. The Space Marine was a mere shimmer beside Dellenger that even his eyes struggled to keep track of.

'I do not like it,' said Kalakor; even his whispering voice was a booming sound in Dellenger's micro-bead. 'I have to admit the patrolling locals are well disciplined and...quite skilled.'

Dellenger shrugged; he now wore the cameleoline cloak he'd "inherited" from the prisoner. As much as he treasured his old camoleoline one, the ability to literally reflect and change to the surroundings was far more effective than cameleoline, which merely changed camouflage patterns to suit the environment.

'No more or less skilled or disciplined than any normal PDF force I've seen,' said Dellenger.

'And that is the point,' said Kalakor. 'According to the propaganda, these men and women have only been formed into a militia not long after the start of the outbreak. I doubt they would be so capable after such a short time. Do we even know if these guards are locals?'

'No,' said Dellenger. 'Hopefully, we can find that out if we manage to gain access to the private vox network.'

'When we will,' said the Space Marine.

Dellenger waited, hoping Kalakor would elaborate why he held such conviction, but the Space Marine was silent.

'Either way,' said Dellenger. 'You think you can get in and out of there without being caught?'

'Of course, I will. You think you can, little man?'

'Of course,' said Dellenger. 'But, hmm.'

'But, hmm, what?'

'You sure it's wise to use your ability? You sure it won't be detected by another who can use that ability if there's one in there.'

'That is the risk we must take,' said Kalakor. 'Let us move.'

Dellenger nodded and went to go, but then an idea hit him. 'Kalakor, you want to make a bet?'

'A...bet?'

'Yeah, a bet, to see who'll get in and out of that place first.'

Kalakor laughed, much to Dellenger's shock. 'You serious?' he said after a few seconds of the rumbling in Dellenger's ears.

'I am,' said Dellenger through clenched teeth.

'While I am unafraid to lose, I do not have any monetary assets in the very unlikely case that I am not victorious.'

'Bragging rights?'

'Does that mean the winner is free to brag at the loser mercilessly?'

'That's exactly what it means.'

Kalakor seemed to think on that for a good few seconds.

'You are on,' he said.


For three hours now, Arlathan Karkin, in his ragged pilgrim's robes, had stood among the crowd of several hundred holy pilgrims waiting. Not far away, Karmen, Torris, Vex and Tathe lingered; all of them were mixing well. Even Tathe, who Arlathan had been hesitant to allow to go on this mission. The two had argued for a while about his inclusion, Arlathan believing that Tathe didn't have the experience to go undercover, but Tathe countered that he needed to gain that experience if he was to be an effective Throne Agent. He had plenty of experience in psychological machinations in the Commissariat and experience in dealing with the Ecclesiarchy and Pilgrims over the decades.

'I am sure you have,' Arlathan had said. 'But this mission is too important for-'

'Interrogator, I am more than a simple-minded footslogger, you know this. Now let me frigging prove it.'

So Arlathan let him try "prove it" he just hoped Tathe wouldn't let him down.

Arlathan looked over the crowd, not bothering to be subtle about it as an average pilgrim wouldn't. Around the group were thirty-five of the local militia; all wore some kind of full-faced re-breather, carried an autogun, las locks or auto pistols and improvised close combat weapons, such as chains wrapped around wooden boards or spiked metal balls tied to chains for improvised flails. One had a pipe, and almost all wore chain mail, but one or two, who Arlathan presumed to be more senior members, wore flak armour. The security was heavy, but Arlathan couldn't blame them during a pandemic. There was no sign of any official Ministorum representation, just as there was no sign of Darrance and Delathasi, who weren't far away, shrouded in the shadow of the cathedral. It was good to have them looking out for him, but Arlathan regretted allowing Kalakor and Dellenger to infiltrate the medicae facility; it would have been great to have them watching on too.

The tension in the air was strong; Arlathan found it hard to describe like every pilgrim's very heartbeat was bashing through the air. Arlathan flinched as a young woman near him began to pray, almost screaming the words as tears ran down her face as she looked straight up at the sun. Arlathan had to fight the urge to sneer, and he wiped the sweat from his forehead. Damn, it was frigging hot; he never thought he'd be so wanting to get inside an Ecclesiarchy building so very much.

Another, more familiar voice, now shrieking a prayer, drew Arlathan's attention; it was Karmen and knowing her, the prayer was genuine. Around, more pilgrims joined in, most muttering it to the ground, so Arlathan joined in, murmuring it to his chest.

Much to his relief, the thirty-metre tall huge doors, carved with a depiction of the Emperor slaying a dragon with a spear, began to open.

From inside, a hymn erupted, eclipsing the praying of the crowd and making many pilgrims cover their ears.

The doors took a good six minutes before they opened fully, and then several dozen figures emerged into view, looming above Arlathan and the pilgrims, atop a staircase made up of at least one hundred steps. They all wore the red and black robes of the Drusian sect, and one carried a wooden pole with a golden Aquila at its head. Among them, a few men were stripped to the waist, whipping their back with cat-o-nine tails and howling like stuck canines.

Around Arlathan, pilgrims began to fall to their knees and pushed their heads against the rockcrete.

Then the Ecclesiarchs began to descend the stairs slowly.

Arlathan fought down a groan as he, too, joined the fools on the ground, genuflecting.