Brotherhood of the Yellow King: Chapter Ten

10: The Truth Revealed:

Pascal Ralscon leaned over the monitor on hands bunched into fists. Ruddy of complexion and wide eyed, he was trying his very best not to get angry, he couldn’t afford to get angry, not now.

‘Yes I see but.. ‘ he paused as the monitor speakers crackled and hissed..

‘It was an accident’  he responded ‘I made a full report, there is no need to…’

Again he was cut off as whoever was on the monitor interrupted. He cut them off in turn, he was starting to lose his cool.

‘I really don’t think that this is nece…’ this time he was stopped mid word as the volume of the response increased. A barrage of words followed and his face blanched as he absorbed the import of what was being said. His next words were subdued and meek. He spoke only between instructions and to confirm his comprehension.

‘Yes sir, I understand. Full co-operation. Yes. I will make the necessary preparations for his arrival. Yes sir, the Emperor Protects.

The communication ceased, the picture fading to show the standard background of the Imperial Aquila grasping a chain in both talons. Ad Gloriam Imperator was written beneath the looping chain and Ralscon had just been reminded in no uncertain terms that he was but one link, a very insignificant link, in that chain.

Now the Eagle was coming.

He slumped back into his chair, perspiration running from his forehead though it was not warm. In fact he felt cold. His heart was hammering so hard in his chest he thought it was going to burst. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a clear little bag of yellow pills. Each was round and flat and stamped with a curious symbol or brand. He’d paid it no attention at the time. The man who supplied them (at a cheap price no less) assured him that they would make him feel better and that they did was all Ralscon cared about. Apparently they were called the Emperor’s Caress and they were becoming rather popular in Narthley. They were of course strictly prohibited and only available through the rather extensive black market. 

He tipped the bag, three pills tumbling into his sweaty hand which he immediately bought to his mouth whilst simultaneously  moving the other hand to his drink. One, two. Swallow, drink. Done. He sat back and almost immediately felt his body relax. His muscles loosened, his senses dulled and yet at the same time he felt his mind open. He could almost visualise it expanding, unfurling like petals, his cerebrum parting and unravelling. He was still alert even though his movement was slowed and his eyes glazed. Now came the second part of the experience Golden hands, no, tentacles, yellow tentacles it seemed, penetrating his expanded brain matter. The sensation was simply exquisite. Ralscon was far from a sentimental man but he had felt love, and he felt it now, unconditional love for him, spreading through his being. He leaned back into the folds of his chair to better enjoy the high, feeling his spirit and mind being enriched, elevated. He soared on Eagle wings, no they were more leathery and bat like than that, ridged and clawed not feathered. Up and up he went, into the clouds, into the atmosphere, into the stars.

He was conscious of a flashing light on his terminal it pulsed slowly, demanding his attetnion. Suddenly the screen came to life, the Aquila, chain and motto replaced by lines of text, scrolling across the screen, unravelling like thread. It was a report from one of the furthermost relay outposts. He tried to ignore it but the glowing screen and flashing light were insistent. He frowned, this was too distracting. Leaning forward he deactivated the screen. Even three tablets wouldn’t last forever and thanks to Carn he now had an investigation team coming from Celias III to look into things. Even dead the bar was causing him problems. He sank back into the chair. Preparations for their arrival could wait, they wouldn't arrive for several days. First, the stars...

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Far off in Endomaw and far less dead than Ralscon believed, Alistae Carn crouched in the dark. Thus far he had met precious little resistance. Three easily dispatched guards, three easily broken necks, three easily hidden bodies. Now, after concealing the latest corpse, he waited.

It was astonishing how quickly old, half remembered skills had re-established themselves to the fore. His tread was stealthy, even in his boots. His senses were sharpened, his eyes had become accustomed to the gloom and he unconsciously stuck to the shadows undetectable to the casual observer. He was following lengths of electrical conduit, hoping they would lead to a power terminal where he could try to reactivate the precious dataslate. He stilled his mind as his ears picked up faint footsteps.

His predator’s instinct kicked in and he reduced his profile, becoming almost completely invisible in the shadows of the vents and pipes. The footsteps grew closer,  and he perceived a figure approaching in the gloom. Slight, unarmed. This was too easy. None of the workers he had killed thus far had posed even the slightest challenge, they were easy meat. Carn thought of the different undetectable ways that he could kill the approaching miner. The simplest was to allow him to pass then come up behind, a quick grab, choke hold, stamp on the calf and, snap. Subject terminated. Alternatively a sweep kick, throat chop and neck snap. Subject terminated. Or a nerve pinch from behind, neck snap, subject terminated. A knife from behind between the right vertebrate. Subject terminated. Over a dozen possibilities each with varying levels of noise and disturbance and therefore evidence, ran through his mind in seconds, the numbers and scenarios playing out like a vid. None of these would actually be used though and he stilled his breathing as the figure walked past. Non-combat, always the best option unless absolutely unavoidable. The other guards had been in directly in his way, this individual was not. Besides he didn’t want TOO many people to go missing that might be noticed. Carn waited for him to turn the corner and then crossed the corridor and continued down the passage from which the miner had emerged.

The conduits snaked and split a few times, leading to a few wrong turns but eventually Carn found himself standing in front of a data terminal, having had to kill only one more guard, who lay at his feet awkwardly. The terminal was locked of course but another of Carn’s emergent skills took care of that as he deftly prised the cover of the input panel loose and rewired the board whilst at the same time placating the Machine Spirit and beseeching it’s forgiveness with a common litany of contrition. His work done, he restored the machine and attached his data slate. Breathing a prayer to the Emperor, he thumbed the activation rune.

The device hissed and screeched as its abused hardware was activated. The screen flickered a few times and then died. Carn cursed, he didn’t have time for this. He hit the slate hard, jolting the quiescent and damaged spirit within to life. Cajoling only got you so far sometimes.  The screen flickered again and then dulled but the spirit was strong and the dataslate came to life.  The top left of the display was cracked badly but the device was still usable. Carn scrolled through the entries, some of the files were damaged, corrupt. The dataslate's memory had suffered badly in the crash But Carn trusted in the Emperor and sure enough there it was...  he opened the file.

Scan reading the words he felt his heart sink. There was nothing here, nothing obvious anyway. He scrolled through the text, trying to establish any cipher or code. There were no patterns, no keywords or phrases, nothing. He kept scrolling, past the imbedded video files past the charts past...there!  A video excerpt embedded in the text, an interview with a Professor Rex Flavo. This was it. Expanding the video window he hit play, whilst making sure to record a copy to an undamaged section of the dataslate’s memory just in case.

Pallas Larkarsky’s face appeared. Even through the damaged screen Carn could see the Adept was worn and haggard, his eyes wide and haunted. He was jittery, frantic, when he spoke however, his voice was calm and measured. He knew the import of his message and how critical it was that it was delivered concisely.

‘Whoever is reading this message, whether you have stumbled upon it by chance or followed my clues, I implore you, you must warn the Imperium before it is too late. I have escaped Endomaw, but they are coming for me, I can hear them. Worse, I can feel them. In my mind, in my mind oh Emperor save me!’  He made a visible attempt to calm himself before continuing. 

“I had got the feeling that they didn’t want me there, that they were hiding something. And I found it, the door at the main complex, locked by the access panel. The sequence is one alpha four four zeta kappa omega three. I watched them, I have good eyes. They all went, I was alone, they thought I was asleep. But I wasn’t. I followed them. The door, it leads to an antechamber, and there are robes, cowled yellow robes. I took one, put it on, went in through the other doors. The one with the sign. They lead to steps, steps that went down and down and down..' He paused, visibly trying to control himself, aware that he had begun babbling. His eyes bulged and he grimaced in pain, bringing his hands to his temples.

“Oh Emperor preserve me! They are looking for me, they are in my mind, in my mind! No not yet, not yet, I must tell before it is too late. So I followed the stairs down and as I descended I  heard chanting, thousands of voices chanting. The stairs lead to another chamber. Vast. Massive. Under Endomaw. I stayed at the back, I was scared to get closer. They were all there, in a crowd, chanting and swaying.  Ganvan was there, Ganvan Seris. He was standing at a pulpit, there was something behind him in the shadows, something huge.’ The memory was almost too much for him and Carn could see the terror in his eyes, but from somewhere Larkarsky found hidden reserves of resolve and continued.

'The chanting reached a fever pitch and stopped. Suddenly there was silence, Ganvan said something, I was too far too make it out clearly but he referred to a Yellow King. Then there was a grinding sound and he stepped aside. Something came forward, it was a throne, a throne, and in the throne… no, not yet, not yet!!!'

The Larkarsky screamed. The sound erupted from the devices speakers, startlingly loud. Carn looked about him but there was no sound of activity spare the hum of machinery, which was nowhere nearly loud enough to drown out the piercing shriek. Carn scanned the area for a few moments and then satisfied that the alarm had not been raised returned his attention to the dataslate. The aspect of the video had changed, the sky of Worth visible, clearly the slate had been dropped. Afraid to touch the slate lest he disrupt the playback, Carn waited still glancing about himself warily. The sound of laboured breathing came from the slate and then the view shifted crazily, coming to rest again on Larkarsky’s face. Blood streamed from one nostril, his ears and most worryingly his eyes. His voice was shaky, slurred, his eyes were glazed but he found the strength to continue.

‘it was monstrous’, he managed, 'sitting in the the throne, even from the back of the chamber I could see the claws, the four arms and the eyes, the eyes, they flashed… green'. A vein pulsed in Larkarsky’s temple, slowly, malevolently. The Adept shuddered and continued, wiping blood from his nose.

'I don’t know what it was, but it was alien, but not a dumb beast, it was flanked by two smaller version of itself which crept from the darkness. It looked up, it saw me! It saw ME! In that moment our minds were connected.  I knew this was the Yellow King, I saw the gulf of space, and things, things! Vast living creatures moving through the stars, tentacles writhing. Always hungry, always consuming. A plague on the cosmos. Endomaw is a cult preparing for their arrival. The king was surprised, I could tell. He shrieked and pointed at me and as one the crowd turned and dropped their hoods. They were all monsters too! Well n,no not all of them. But a lot of them, and not just their faces. I could see that some of them had extra arms or claws or other deformities. They came for me, as one, I had to run, to get away. As soon as I was out I tried to send a message but nothing is getting through. I can feel a shadow a shadow preventing me from transmitting. I have to just record this and hope for the best. An invasion is coming,. You must warn them, you must warn them! Warn them about the Yellow king, warn them about the plague, the plague from space.. they are coming… a yellow plague, yellow tentacles from space, yellow...yellow....yellow....

The last was spoken in a whisper and Larkarsky’s eyes rolled. Fresh blood flowed anew from his nostril and the screen shook as a spasm overcame him. Then the screen turned black. Carn stared in shocked silence at the now dark cracked screen. Despite himself he could feel the terror rising. Suddenly he was shaken from his reverie as a siren started blaring. The terminal deactivated and the dataslate sparked and fizzed as the connection terminated with an overload. Carn snatched the dataslate and ran. Red light pulsed as he sprinted down the corridor, all thoughts of stealth forgotten. He drew Emperors Fury from his belt, clearing the chamber. He could already hear shouting nearby. There was no point trying to find another terminal to send a signal, any transmissions would be blocked. He had to escape. He headed out the way he had come, retracing his steps from memory. The shouting was getting louder. He turned a corner and there was a miner, no cultist, they were all cultists. 

Muscle memory bought his arm up and he pulled the trigger. A large hole appeared between the eyes of the miner, no cultist, they were all cultists! and the body crashed to the floor. The gunshot echoed round the corridor and more figures turned the corner. Carn threw himself low to avoid a volley of autofire. He rolled and let off four shots, taking out four targets, but there were too many. More fire struck his position and he scrambled back round the corner breathing hard. His skills might have returned but he was still much older than when he had last used them properly. He had no time to rest his weary body. With the red on the walls blending with the sticky red on the floor, he ran back down the corridor. Instead of heading back to the terminal he purposely chose other passages at junctions, there had to be another way to the surface. His mind raced as he put together an incomplete mental map based upon the paths he had taken thus far. Something he would not have been able to do a day ago now came as second nature to him and he thanked the Emperor for this returned gift. There, a path that he had stopped following not because it had no conduits but rather because it had many, a branching point. A left, a right and another right. Spurred on, he fled down the corridor pursued by shouts and sporadic gunfire.

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Ganvan Seris closed his eyes, the unfortunate neophyte in front of him crashed to the floor, smoke billowing from his eye sockets, mouth, nose and ears. Ganvan sighed, he disliked losing his temper. He addressed the smoking corpse, slowly emphasising each word, each syllable.

‘I said, no, mistakes.’ He pulled his golden robe free of the grasping wizened fingers of the neophyte and motioned to the two Thirds that were his makeshift bodyguard. They shuffled forward and removed the body from in front of him. They then departed as he made it clear that he wished to be alone.

This was a complication, and one that he did not wish for. He could feel the ire of the Patriarch mentally and had no wish to suffer it first-hand. The malign intelligence tasked him. They were so close. Close to the day of truth. The Yellow day. Then it would not matter. Till then, they must remain secret, they must remain safe. Clearly the attack on the Shuttle had failed to eliminate Carn, somehow the Prefect had survived and despite the odds made it to Endomaw. Initially localised, the alarm was now complex wide and the entire mine was on alert. Thus far Carn had killed ten brethren, though truth be told Ganvan mourned their loss not. They were little more than pawns, Fifths and Fourths, of little value. Still it was perturbing that the Prefect eluded them still. He must be eliminated, quickly. Unless….

Striding over to the nearest wall he picked up the ornate mouthpiece mounted in its cradle. Finished in bronze It bore the sigil of the Yellow King. It was an ostentatious affectation but one that he allowed himself.

'My brethren, hear me. We have an intruder in Endomaw mine. This non believer is not of the Brotherhood and must be caught lest he spread his lies. Heed him not, find him, capture him. Kill him if you must. But I would rather he is taken alive so that he can embrace the glory of the Yellow King.  Be warned my brethren, this man is dangerous, he has already killed many of our number. But we are strong, the Brotherhood will triumph. This I have seen. Ad Gloriam Flavo Rex!'

Speech over, he replaced the mouthpiece. All around he could feel the cult stir, impelled by his words and subtle psychic signals.  Carn would not escape, there was nowhere to go and they were too many. It was only a matter of time, and when finally snared he would serve them well whether he wanted to or not.