2: The futility of Procrastination.
Carn got back to Narthley some time before Larkarsky's effects. He probably could have taken them with him and reviewed the Adept's notes on the return journey in the transit shuttle but quite frankly the experience at the asylum had left him rattled and in no mood to concentrate on anything. He had simply wanted to get back to familiar surroundings and have a very large drink.
In fact he had had several drinks, a routine that had continued in the days since his return while he waited for the material he was to investigate. Even now he had a tumbler containing a generous measure of Skee sitting on his desk. This was the good stuff too, old stock imported from Celias IV. Smooth and rich, smoky and fiery at the same time. Being a Prefect on Worth had it's perks, few though they were.
He picked up the glass and swirled the amber liquid round the glass noting with satisfaction the way the liquid clung to the side of the tumbler, a sure sign of the superior quality of the alcohol. He raised the glass to his mouth and drained it in one quick motion, savouring the burn as the Skee went down his throat. Even by his standards he had been drinking more than usual recently. His supply of Skee was nearly depleted and it would soon be time to put in another order, a substantial but worthwhile, borderline necessary, expense.
And one that could be partially mitigated if he could get off Worth. By far the poor cousin or runt in the Celias system, the Ironically named Worth had not even been considered being named as part of the Celias sequence. Celias I was a Forge World, a minor contributor in the grand scheme of things but one that nonetheless produced a valued line of Sentinel Walkers, Chimera Transports and Leman Russ Battle Tanks. In particular the Plasma weaponry of Celias I was highly regarded even if the limited size of the world inhibited the scale of output.
Celias II was dead. It had always been dead as far as anyone could tell, with surveys showing no signs of past life or civilizations, alien or otherwise. It was however, a source of vapours and chemicals prized as poisons and oddly enough as agents in purifying the byproduct from industrial manufacturing. So it transpired that even this dead world had some value to those brave enough to risk exposure to the noxious and corrosive atmosphere and harvest it's deadly riches. A small dark world, it attracted small dark operations and nearly all of the output from Celias II came from Black Market sources as no one in their right mind would journey there, no matter the bounty. The criminal and desperate however would make periodic raids, often dying horribly as they captured the chemicals they sought.
Celias III and IV though, were settled worlds. Celias IV was the more heavily populated and developed. Celias III was actually the smaller more verdant world and had a problem with unwanted migration from Celias IV as people sought more land to exploit and pillage and stopped just short of all out invasion. Celias IV's population was killing it, there were far too many humans breeding too much and living too long. Choking to death on its own advancement Celias IV was almost used up and people were desperately trying to leave the world and get to its sister planet. In fact Celias III was in a constant state of the brink of war with Celias IV, though in reality it boiled down to little more than Sabre rattling as Celias IV was by far more the capable and militarily potent world, They distilled some damn fine Skee though.
Besides, Carn mused. Even Celias IV, dying a slow choking death, would be better than Worth. Anything would be better than this wretched ball of ash and rock. Well almost anything. The Celias system was completed by two more planetoids in outer orbits that were little more than orbs of methane and ice. They were so far away and small that no one had bothered naming them, though they likely had Imperial Designations. No one went there, no one cared about them and if they disappeared no one would miss them. The only noteworthy thing out there was some listening and relay outposts which kept the Celias system (barely) in touch with the wider Imperium. Contact was seldom made though and it had been years since the last message from outside Celias. Even contact between Worth and the rest of the system was sporadic, cargo transports regularly arrived empty and departed full of ore but messages were far more seldom. Visitors were practically unheard of.
No, the majority of people on Worth were born there and the majority of people would live their hard lives and then die there. Numbering a truly pathetic 400,000 worldwide, the population of Worth toiled and strove and lived their empty little lives and nothing they did really mattered. They were but tiny little cogs in a very big machine, a machine that cared nothing for them and was truly too vast and convoluted to be impacted whether they turned or not. Such was life in the Imperium of Man under the Aegis of the God Emperor of Man, beloved by all.
Carn sighed and rubbed his eyes, yawning loudly. The Skee, satisfying as it was, often prompted melancholy and caused his thoughts to become maudlin and his mood morose. It was worth it though, totally worth it to numb the monotony, and more recently the horror or Larkarsky's self mutilation which intruded upon his mind so often of late. Sleep was no relief and indeed he had not slept well in days for any rest that he did manage was broken and of little real benefit. He yawned again and contemplated another measure of Skee before deciding against it. Instead he reached for Larkarsky's satchel which had been sat on his desk for the last few days defying him to ignore it. He'd been putting this off for as long as he dared but he could delay no longer. The thrice damned Ralscon had repeatedly tried to contact him for an update to his investigation, attempts that Carn had studiously ignored or avoided thus far.
"Come on then you poor bastard" he said to no one in particular "let's see what happened to you". He unlatched the satchel, and opened it, emptying it one item at a time. He removed a number of data slates and sheaves of paper. In one of the internal pockets was a small golden Aquila on a chain. There was also a wrist chronometer, some rations (Larkarsky was the kind to take a working lunch) and a small holoprojector loaded with pictures of people that given the vague resemblance Carn assumed were Larkarsky's family. Replacing all but the papers and the dataslates Carn carefully put the satchel down by the side of his desk, struck by an uncharacteristic sympathy for Larkarsky and his horrible fate. He spread the dataslates (four in total) and pages in front of him and reviewed the material.
The dataslates were encrypted but he used his security override and unlocked them. One was full, one was half full and the other two were empty. He discarded these latter pair and concentrated on the full Dataslate. Opening the directory he saw a number of entries. Scrolling through he discovered that they were all literature rather than logs, both fiction and non fiction with titles meticulously organised and categorised. He opened the one called research but quickly established that there was little of interest to him it mostly being information on mining practices, quotas, and safety standards. He tossed the slate aside without closing the file and picked up the half full slate. Comparing it to the sheaves of paper he saw many duplications and beckoning his illuminator Servoskull closer concluded that the pages were rough notes in an unorthodox shorthand from which Larkarsky then prepared his actual log entries. Discarding the scrawled notes, he focused on the pad; The entries were ordered by date with multiple entries per day. He opened the first with a tap of the screen and started reading.
I arrived at the small landing port at 3:06:58, enduring a bumpy landing for no discernible reason. My momentary ire at the seeming incompetence of the pilot was diffused as I looked outside of the viewing portal at Endomaw. I had never had the need to visit the mining town previously and this initial impression was such that I had never beheld before. Far from the ramshacke and dare I say primitive, habitat that I had expected instead I was treated to a sprawling industrial complex, bustling and imposing. Further than I could actually see smoke stacks and cyclopean edifices towered and stretched into the distance. This was far from the modest installation that I had expected from studying and researching the available information.
Disembarking from the shuttle I was struck by the noxious if not quite toxic fumes, heady and disorientating. At the foot of the ramp a slightly hunched figure in a mining suit handed me a filtration mask which I donned with a grateful nod. I looked at the other end of the landing pad and saw a sleek low slung limousine which I assumed was my transport further into Endomaw, certainly they could not expect me to traverse any distance by foot. I approached the vehicle, which I noticed was coated with a thick layer of dust ash and soot, and was gratified when the rear door swung open to reveal a shrouded yet luxurious interior.
I stooped and entered the limousine, noticing that the fellow that had offered me the mask had followed me and appeared to be entering the drivers compartment. Inside i was pleasantly impressed by the level of opulence on offer. The passenger compartment was empty so clearly the driver had activated the door by remote. I opened a small door built into the partition between compartments and noted the copious refreshments that lay within as the limousine purred into life and started its journey towards my destination, though i must confess I wasn't sure exactly where that was.
I thumbed the intercomm and it crackled to life, the amber rune flashing green intermittently and unconvincingly. I asked how long it would take to reach wherever it was we were going but no response was forthcoming, though I thought I heard a noncommital and dismissive grunt. Convinced that I would get nothing more from this strange driver, I deactivated the commlink and looked around my immediate surroundings. The passenger compartment was spacious and could easily have accommodated a further half dozen individuals with a degree of comfort. There were a few panels and screens that were presumably for entertainment purposes and I ignored these as I was not here for recreation. The windows were tinted heavily and I couldn't see outside though I could discern that the transport was moving at some speed. Studying the array of controls and buttons I established that one of them would change the opacity of the windows and activated it. Immediately the exterior became visible and I was regaled with the sight of dirty walls and scaffolding as we made our way through the tight streets of Endomaw. Few of the denizens of the town were visible, those I did spy were swathed in cloth, stooped and furtive. More noticeable were the defence forces and within scant minutes I saw myriad tanks and troops either in defensive positions or patrolling. I thought for a moment to ask the driver about this but given our earlier interaction decided against it and resolved to simply further enjoy the comfort that my conveyance afforded, helping myself to sweetmeats and cakes as well as a large measure of some nondescript yet obviously alcoholic liquid.
Sipping the potent yet sweet liquid I reclined in my seat and watched the scenery, such as it was speed by as the limousine wound it's way through the streets of Endomaw. Just by the length of the journey thus far it was obvious that Endomaw was far bigger than anyone had suspected and far more equipped and prepared. Prepared for what I couldn't possibly say but I was sure that there was much more beneath the surface than could be seen and that was even accounting for the fact that Endomaw already was more than I had ever suspected. I pulled my notepad out and made some quick notes, prompts for when I finally reached my destination and got to work. For now, I just put my head back, closed my eyes and dozed for the rest of the trip.
Carn set down the dataslate. He could take no more, inside he was screaming. He had heard tell of Larkarsky's legendary capacity for writing reams without actually saying anything but without actually experiencing it he had really had no idea at all. He reclined, titled his head back and exhaled loudly and slowly. There was SO MUCH still to review, this was but the first of over a dozen similar entries. He now regretted his earlier procrastination, starting reading Larkarsky's notes earlier might have actually kept thoughts of the horrific experience at the asylum. Cursing himself for a fool and leaning forward again he reached for the remainder of the Skee, he was going to need another drink after all if he was going to carry on reading...
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