"You sure this is a good idea, boss?"
Horus scowled at Ez, irritation flaring. "Yes, I do. Don't you trust me?"
Abbadon raised his hands in surrender from where he was sitting on the bed. "Of course I do! It's just…your old man forbade it, didn't he? He must have a good reason."
Horus clamped down on his first response, doing his best not to snap at Ez, for putting the Emperor's word above his own. Taking a deep breath, he turned to the window of his bedroom. Below, people scurried about their lives across Bai-heng, in a city so different and yet so similar to the ones he had known on Cthonia.
It wasn't fair. Less than a month ago, none of his gang would ever have questioned him like this. They all trusted him to know what was what.
But ever since they'd met his father-, the Emperor, they were in awe of him, and treated his words as if it mattered as much as Horus's own.
Not only had the old man broken his promise and left, it felt like he was stealing Horus's gang. Even though he wasn't here anymore.
Inhaling deeply one more time, Horus turned back to Ezekyle. "Ez, I'm sure my father won't mind," Horus lied. The Emperor would definitely mind, and that was the main reason he was doing this. What did the old man want to hide from him? "I'll talk to him when he gets back, he'll understand, and that'll be that."
Ez didn't seem convinced but agreed. "If you say so, boss." His friend looked very different from how he had just a few weeks ago. He wore the rich clothes that had been provided for them, a short-sleeved red shirt and black pants, with red boots. It was fancy, even with the rips and tears they had made to make it look more like the clothes they were used to. He wasn't as thin as he used to be, having put on more weight and muscle from the food they'd been eating and his hair was neatly trimmed.
Surrounded by the wealth and luxury of the Imperium, seated on the massive bed with silk sheets and pillows, Ez looked almost like a completely different person.
Living like this had been their dream. They had everything they had ever wanted. Horus should have been happy.
But he wasn't.
"I'm just really curious about this scientist who works for my father," Horus said, trying to distract himself. "I mean, you saw what her machine did on Cthonia, Ez! Don't you want to talk to her?"
"Yeah, that was…amazing." Ez murmured, clearly thinking back to what they had seen on Cthonia, how the planet had changed so radically in such a short time. "I do want to talk to her, boss, but I feel like we should just try to convince your father to let us meet her, instead of doing this."
"It'll be fine." Horus nodded decisively. "I'll find her and talk to her first, and then I'll introduce her to you guys."
"Got it, boss," Ez responded, bouncing from the bed on to the floor. "We'll be waiting for you."
Horus smiled. "Great.
Now, it was finally time to put his plan into action.
"Everyone knows their parts, right?" Horus asked.
"They all do," Abbadon confirmed. "We just need to start."
"Then let's go."
The two of them left Horus's bedroom, emerging out into the common room of the quarters assigned to them.
The servants were laying out lunch, and the entire gang was in position. Across the room, Arrec flashed a quick sign at them and started walking towards the dining table in the same direction as Ez. Horus hung back, waiting for his opportunity.
As they got close to the table, Arrec and Ez 'accidentally' bumped into each other, causing Arrec to stumble.
"Hey, watch where you're going, brat!" Arrec growled, shoving Ezekyle with his right hand.
"Who are you calling a brat?" Ez demanded, shoving Arrec back.
"You heard me," Arrec sneered, looking down at the shorter teenager.
Ezekyle growled, and then seized one of the dishes from the table.
"No, wait-" One of the servants said, but before he could finish, Abbadon had hurled the entire platter of bread at Arrec's head.
Arrec ducked underneath it, grabbing a piece of fruit and hurling it back at Abbadon, splattering red juice all across Ez's face.
Ez responded by lunging at Arrec, and as they brawled on the floor under the panicked gaze of the servants, Alyssa carried out the next part of the plan.
"Food fight!" She cried, grabbing a piece of chicken and hurling it at Erik.
The entire gang erupted into a brawl and a food fight, the servants frantically trying to stop them.
And Horus, slipping under the hurled food and the screaming, grinning to himself as he snuck out of the rooms.
Too easy.
There were no guards directly outside the rooms, thankfully, but Horus knew the guard patrols passed by the room regularly. He'd have to work quickly.
Moving down to the end of the corridor, Horus knelt near one of the grates leading to a vent. It was too small for him to move through, unfortunately, but what he needed was right there. Stashed inside the vent was one of the guard uniforms he had managed to sweet talk the servants into giving him, complete with a helmet.
Ignoring the sound of the chaos behind him, Horus quickly exchanged his clothes for the uniform, Horus then shoved the former into the vent and resumed walking, much more slowly this time, deliberately forcing his gait to imitate a guard's.
Underneath the helmet, Horus couldn't help but grin. The plan was going perfectly! The servants were honestly pathetically easy to talk into doing whatever he wanted them to, as long as it wasn't directly defying the Emperor or old man Malcador's orders.
He had even managed to find out the name of the scientist, Lady Isha, and where her labs were located. Sneaking up there should be easy, and even if someone caught him, Horus knew he could talk his way out.
This was going to be fun.
Isha sat in one of the greenhouses, her eyes narrowed as she examined the hovering vials in front of her. They were both examples of the Pan-Pacific Empire's bioweapons, one normal, and the other enhanced by warpcraft.
The normal version of the weapon was a grey liquid, harmless looking on the surface, indicating nothing of its true capabilities. But Isha could tell that it was designed to target the brain, causing hallucinations, paranoia and brain damage when released as a gas. A very effective way to disrupt the enemy's formations and attempts to fight back.
The other vial would have seemed identical to mortal eyes, but to Isha, it glowed an eerie blue, shimmering runes floating around it. This version of the weapon had the same basic effects as the original, but it affected the target on just a physical level, but also a spiritual one. They would suffer drastic physical mutations, and their minds would be exposed to the Immaterium, causing them to see visions that would either destroy them utterly or cause them to fall to Chaos.
It wasn't exactly surprising for Tzentech's worshippers to do this, they tended to have vast and varied abilities, and this certainly wasn't beyond them. But it was still an unusual tactic for them.
Still, it was nothing beyond her. Deeming her analysis sufficient, Isha began weaving together a cure, but paused as she felt the presence of the Emperor's son getting closer to her labs. He had been moving through the mountain-fortress for sometime, it was only now it became clear he was heading for this place.
And there was no one else with him. Isha had a distinct feeling there was some mischief afoot.
But she returned her attention to her work for the moment. She levitated a flower pot with soil to hover in front of her, along with a few seeds, then began altering the seed so that it would grow into a miniature tree, producing fruits which would serve as both cure and inoculant.
Truth be told, Isha was bored of creating fruits again and again, but it was the most efficient way of swiftly producing medicine in a form that required no further preparation.
Just as she was applying the finishing touches to the seeds, she felt the boy reach the gates leading out to the platform. He was speaking briefly to the guards, and they let him through, after which the boy made a direct line for her.
Sighing, Isha let the vials and flowerpot float down to the table, and let the seeds fall into the dirt. Standing up, she summoned a dataslate over to herself, sending an urgent message to Malcador, telling him where Horus was and to come fetch him.
A few moments later, as she made a show of flicking through the dataslate, the boy arrived in the greenhouse, the guard's uniform he was wearing confirming her suspicions.
"You're the scientist who helped my father terraform Cthonia." Straight to the point, then.
"I am." She confirmed, lowering the dataslate to the table and regarding the boy curiously. "And you are the Emperor's son. What brings you here, Horus?"
The boy's face darkened when she mentioned the Guardian of Terra. "The Emperor-" Not his father, she noted. "-said that you had helped him terraform Cthonia, and also this planet. But when I asked to meet you, he said no. Malcador said no too. But I was curious."
Curiosity was part of it, but Isha could easily deduce that the main reason was childish rebellion. Hurt and anger radiated from the boy, clearly rooted in the Emperor's decision to run off, so he had decided to disobey him to meet with her.
"Well," Isha said, leaning against the table and crossing her arms. "Now that you're here, what do you think?" She could feel Malcador moving towards them, He was closer than she had thought, perhaps he had already been looking for the boy. But he was still far away enough that she'd need to stall for time.
The boy, unaware of her movements, frowned. "You look normal." He said, clearly disappointed. "I thought you'd be…different."
More impressive, Isha translated mentally, amused. The blunt honesty of a child was always refreshing.
"Well, my apologies for disappointing you." Isha told him wryly. She could have assumed a different form, with radiant majesty and power that made the sky and the earth tremble, but it was doubtful the Emperor would appreciate that.
Horus's frown deepened. "Can you show me the machine you used to terraform Cthonia?" He asked. "I want to examine it."
The machine? Ah, so the Emperor had not even told the boy that she was a psyker, it seemed.
"I'm afraid I cannot," She told him, not unkindly. When the boy opened his mouth to protest, she continued. "The machine is delicate, and your father has restricted access to it. I cannot access the vaults where it is stored myself, only your father can." It wasn't technically a lie, the machines that she had helped the Emperor develop over the past several years to help cleanse Terra's atmosphere were indeed locked away.
The boy looked frustrated. Isha felt a little guilty for deceiving him, but she had little inclination to debate a child about the merits of giving him access to a machine that didn't even exist.
"What can you tell me about terraforming, then?" Horus demanded. "How did you do it?"
"Unless you have an education in biology and engineering that I'm unaware of, I'm afraid the specifics would be somewhat beyond you." Isha replied, wondering if he would demand a lesson in those sciences next.
"Teach me, then." Horus said, proving her right. "I want to learn."
No, you want to provoke your father by rebelling against his instructions. But there was no point in voicing that.
"I'm afraid it would take far too long to teach you everything you'd need to know to understand my work, and I have a great many things to occupy my time. If you wish for lessons, I'm certain Malcador would be happy to obtain a tutor for you if you asked him."
Horus looked even more annoyed, clearly not used to being refused by people.
"But I want to learn from you," Horus persisted. "You're the best scientist on Terra, aren't you? There's nobody who could teach me better."
"Skill does not translate into the ability to teach other people that skill." Isha replied serenely. Of course, she had had many students from among her own children over the ages, but she wasn't about to admit that.
"But you've taught other people before, I heard the other genewrights learned from you." Horus argued.
"I did not give them lessons, they merely studied my work and my notes, and sometimes discussed them with me." Isha told him, feeling increasingly amused. The more they talked, the more the boy's stubbornness reminded her of the Emperor. "That is not the same thing as being a teacher."
Horus's frustration at losing the argument was palpable, but he was still far too young to out-debate her. He have some degree of natural charm, but he was far too reliant on his psychic aura. Mortals would have perceived him to be far more impressive than he actually was, but all Isha saw was a rebellious child.
It was adorable, in a way, and Isha would not actually have minded giving him a few lessons here and there, if it wouldn't endanger her agreement with the Emperor.
"You could try," Horus persisted, frustration bleeding into his voice. "What would be the harm? Just teach me the basics. If you've never taught before, how can you know how good you are at it?"
"I never said I haven't attempted to teach anyone before." Isha replied. "I have a perfectly good grasp of what my teaching skills are like, I assure you."
"I'm smarter than most people," Horus said, switching tactics. "I don't need much help."
"I'm sure you are," Isha was well-aware of the boy's superhuman intelligence. "Nevertheless, I'm afraid I simply don't have the time." Malcador was still some distance away, and would require a few more minutes.
The boy opened his mouth to keep arguing, but Isha cut him off. "Why are you really here, child? Surely you have better things to do with your time."
Horus bristled. "I'm not a child." He growled, as offended as Isha had predicted he would be. The annoyance would keep him distracted for a little longer.
"Are you not?" Isha asked, arching an eyebrow. "Then why are you here, against your father's instructions?"
"I told you, I was curious about you." Horus insisted. "And mere curiosity is enough to make you defy the orders of your newfound father, who brought you to a completely new world, just so you can meet a stranger?"
Isha felt a spike of frustration from Horus at her words. His psychic aura had clearly instilled certain expectations in him of how other people would treat him, and he clearly wasn't used to being verbally challenged like this.
But even as Horus seemed to be devising a new counter-argument, the doorway to the greenhouse opened and Malcador strode in, two guards behind him. Isha could sense that both guards were genetically and cybernetically enhanced, if not nearly to the same degree as a Space Marine.
"Horus!" The Sigillite snapped, looking visibly irritated. "I told you that she was too busy to meet with you."
Horus looked caught between panic and indigance. After a moment, the latter won. "I didn't believe you." He said, turning up his nose. "I wanted to see for myself."
Malcador's look of irritation deepened. "Your father gave explicit orders that Lady Isha was to tend to her work without anyone interrupting her." He ground out. "Kindly refrain from disobeying your father in the future."
"I'll do what I want." Horus said defiantly, crossing his arms.
Malcador's eyes flashed. "I said," He said sharply, his voice deeper and more resonant, power suddenly rolling off him in invisible waves. "Kindly refrain from disobeying your father in the future."
Malcador made no threatening movements, and the power radiating from him was perfectly controlled, with not the slightest hint of actual malice, but it was clearly enough to drive the point home for Horus, who took a step back, eyes wide.
Isha doubted the boy even knew on a conscious level why he found Malcador so intimidating, but his instincts would be screaming at him that Malcador was not to be trifled with right about now.
Taking a deep breath, Malcador gestured to the guards. "Escort Lord Horus back to his chambers, if you will."
The guards nodded, stepping forward. Horus looked like he might object for a moment, but then his eyes flickered to Malcador, and he obeyed, his head bowed.
Malcador watched them go, silent for a long moment, before turning to Isha.
"Thank you for informing me he was here." He said quietly.
Isha shrugged. "There was nothing else I could do. You are the boy's guardian in his father's absence, and his father does not wish that I should interact with Horus. I have no desire to provoke the Emperor's anger."
Malcador nodded. "I will post a stricter guard on him. It won't happen again." With that, he turned and left.
Isha sighed, straightening. Honestly, the Emperor really should have dealt with the boy better. She felt sorry for the child, truly, but she had neither the time nor the inclination to deal with the Emperor's family drama. Not when it risked her position, her life and her plans.
Hopefully, once he returned, the Guardian would be able to sort things out with his son.
As usual, you can find the next chapter on my P-a-t-r-e-o-n, the link to which is on my profile.