I: AN OMINOUS PORTENT:
Screams echoed from the dank dirty walls of the asylum, a reverberation of woe and despair that permeated the very air and lent an unsettling ambiance to the already initimidating atmosphere. Prefect Alistae Carn tried not to shudder as he followed the shuffling doctor, who's name he had quite forgotten, through the seemingly labyrinthine dark corridors, trying not to look too closely into the shadows cast by the wan lumin-globes that sporadically dotted the recesses of the foreboding passage.
Emperor damn Ralscon, damn him and his orders, of all the forsaken locales to be sent to. Worth was a wretched enough place as it was, a dungball of a world ignored by practically everybody, including those unfortunate enough to live on it. In fact Carn was pretty sure Worth was ironically named being a particularly small planet, more of a planetoid really. It's real designation was a very boring series of numbers and letters that no one wanted to remember almost like it wasn't worth remembering, hence being relabeled by the first settlers. Worth was devoid of oceans and was primarily comprised of a dense violet grey ash over an unremarkable rock crust dotted with mostly now dormant volcanoes. However, beneath the crust was a wealth of minerals and ores and numerous mining facilities were set up to make use of the only resource that Worth could offer. Other than mining outposts there were small towns and provinces here and there as the inhabitants tried to eke out whatever meagre lives they could. There was only one city and that was Narthley. Here all administration was carried out for the entire planet. Contact with the wider Imperium was minimal, they supplied a tithe of minerals and ores and therefore were left alone, blissfully unaware of the majority of the perils that beset the galaxy.
Carn was here to investigate the disappearance (and subsequent reappearance) of one Adept First Class Larkarsky. The Adept had been inspecting a mining operation in far off Endomaw on the other side of the planet. A fairly routine survey, the output from the mine had wavered somewhat in recent months and Larkarsky's assignment was to see if there were any untoward reason for the aberration. Everything had been fine for the first couple of days; with regular updates in Larkasky's usual terse, abrupt, fashion (he tended to make his video reports curt whilst laboriously preparing detailed written treatises on anything and everything which he would then present upon his return - almost as if to spite his superiors and make them spend excess time reading his texts for the full wealth of detail). The brief reports suggested that little was awry, although a subtle undercurrent of tension and uncertainty was present. This in itself was not unusual though, Larkarsky was far from a brave or adventurous man and easily perturbed. Were it not for his analytical skills, Carn mused, Larkarsky likely would not have been sent at all. Certainly, he would not have been Carn's first choice.
It seemed that Carn's judgement was sound, for Larkarsky's updates turned increasingly erratic, and furtive. Almost as if he were afraid of saying more in his communiques. Then, without warning, they ceased. Requests for re-established contact were met with silence. The entire of Endomaw went dark and no response was forthcoming for six full solar cycles. Given that Worth had a significantly slower rotation than most planets this was equivalent to just under three Terran weeks. Then, just as Carn's superiors were about to authorise a rapid strike team to be sent to investigate, Larkarsky reappeared.
He did not however, announce his presence as per standard procedures. Rather he was apprehended for disturbing the peace in a province named Hyrk far from Endomaw, babbling incoherently and raving about a dark terror, an unfathomable mystery threat that threatened to engulf the entire planet. When he foolishly tried to resist arrest the local constabulary took him down, hard. Larkarsky was dragged, broken and bleeding, into custody where he was found to be utterly without reason, ranting about coming apocalyptic horrors and beings, tentacled and omnipotent, from beyond the stars, that would consume all in their path. Chances are that he would have been executed at that point without hesitation for witchery as it was a particularly backward and superstitious settlement which he had chosen to appear in, but thankfully one of the more astute denizens of the town recognised Larkarksy's administrative trappings and sent a message to Carn's office. Once it was established that the Adept had indeed reappeared, the strike team was stood down and Carn was given the thankless task of journeying to this backwater hole to find out just what had happened in Endomaw. Carn damned Ralscon again, mentally subjecting him to various tortures and agonies in return, he smiled at the thought a bit in the gloom before he realised the doctor had stopped ahead of him.
Shaken from his reverie he glanced at the door that the hunched doctor gestured towards with gnarled bony fingers..
"He's in here, but I warn you, his mind is cracked, you'll not get anything of any worth from him." The doctor's rheumy eyes, dead of emotion, echoed her expressionless lined face. Hers was a visage and frame that had been worn down over years of dealing with the irredeemably insane. No rejuvenat treatments or augmetics here, in this town. On a more prominent world she could have still been beautiful, vital. But here, here she was a prisoner of her advancing years almost as much as her charges were prisoners of their fractured psyches.
"I've seen it before, oh too many times for me to count, Emperor save me," she continued. "His mind has gone has that one, whatever he has seen or imagined, it was too much. He'll never recover, never." Her mouth suddenly set in a sad smile, she stepped back into the shadows allowing Carn access to the viewing slot in the door.
"I've seen it before, oh too many times for me to count, Emperor save me," she continued. "His mind has gone has that one, whatever he has seen or imagined, it was too much. He'll never recover, never." Her mouth suddenly set in a sad smile, she stepped back into the shadows allowing Carn access to the viewing slot in the door.
Carn nodded his thanks at the shrouded form of the Doctor and approached the door, unbolting the small hatch and sliding it down to peer into the gloomy room within. A faint fetid stench assaulted his nostrils. He tried to breathe though his mouth instead but the air tasted just as foul. He fought the impulse to gag.
"Larkarsky? Adept Larkarsky?" he rasped. Only silence greeted him from within, though the space outside the room still echoed with the screams and rantings of myriad maniacal inmates. No, not silence, there was something. He strained to filter out the unwanted sounds, Larkarsky was muttering something. Carn couldn't make it out though, much as he tried. He stepped back from the viewing hatch.
"Open it", he brusquely instructed, glancing at the doctor, not unkindly but with a commanding gaze nonetheless. The Doctor looked up and shook her head slowly.
"I wouldn't recommend tha...."
"Is he dangerous?" Carn interrupted, "any threat at all?"
"No", she countered. "But he is utterly broken, there is nothing further to be gained by interrogating him".
"I'll be the judge of that. Open. The. Door."
She shrugged and fumbled with a large cluster of metal keys. Carn winced, physical keys? what primitive hell was this? She must have noticed his expression in the gloom for she shot him a dirty look as she located the correct key amongst the bundle and used it to unlock the door. She swung it open and stepped back from the gloomy entrance.
Suppressing a brief uncharacteristic sense of trepidation, Carn stepped inside, trying to ignore the suddenly more prominent odour. Larkarksy was huddled in a far corner, unmoving. Unkempt and filthy, his head was bowed and he was muttering something over and over...Carn stepped closer.
"Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow... "
Over and over and over, that one word. His tone was haunted and despairing, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. He made no reaction to Carn's approach, even as the Prefect knelt down beside him.
"Larkarsky...." he wracked his memory to recall the Adept's first name. "Pallas" he tried, "Pallas Larkarsky!" With the last he reached out and grabbed the man's shoulder.
Larkarsky stopped repeating and slowly raised his head. Carn's mouth dropped agape, horror etched on his face as Larkarsky suddenly launched himself at the kneeling prefect, bowling him over. They both crashed to the filthy floor as Larkarsky's brief silence ended, the maddened Adept atop of Carn.
"They're coming!" he screamed. "Oh God Emperor they are coming, we are all going to die, do you understand? We are all going to die. Nothing will survive, nothing will live. Nothing can stop them, nothing, nothing! Yellow will be all, yellow will be all! Our flesh, our bones our blood! All devoured, all devoured, all devoured!"
"They're coming!" he screamed. "Oh God Emperor they are coming, we are all going to die, do you understand? We are all going to die. Nothing will survive, nothing will live. Nothing can stop them, nothing, nothing! Yellow will be all, yellow will be all! Our flesh, our bones our blood! All devoured, all devoured, all devoured!"
Carn struggled beneath Larkarsky, though slight of frame, the Adept had a strength born of mania and desperation and pinned the Prefect down whilst screaming. With his eyes screwed firmly shut Carn found the strength to hurl that demented visage away from him and he rolled to the left, away from Larkarsky, poor insane Larkarsky. Opening his eyes he shakily stood up and exited the cell as swiftly as dignity would allow. The Adept had gone back to his huddle and once again was whispering the word 'yellow' over and over.
As Carn crossed the threshold he closed the door and breathlessly nodded at the Doctor who rushed to lock it. With the cell secured she turned back to the Prefect, who was stooped, hands on knees.
"I told you" she said gently, "he's too far gone."
Carn regulated his breathing and futilely tried to get Larkarsky's face out of his head. It was useless, he knew he'd be seeing that image till his dying days. Damn Ralscon. As his terror subsided the adrenaline found a new home in anger. His voice shook as he rose and stood, straight but unsteady, rounding on the doctor.
"Why... didn't you tell me he'd done that?" His indignant, hoarse, whisper suddenly turned into an indignant, hoarse, roar, "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME ABOUT HIS FACE?!"
"You didn't ask," the doctor returned, though she wasn't quite smug, there was nonetheless an air of insouciance about her reply which rankled at the Prefect. "Self mutilation isn't entirely uncommon among our patients. We tried to sedate him but whatever his torment is it affects his unconsciousness as well as his waking state. His torture is eternal, poor soul." she finished with a downcast look. "May the Emperor deliver him from his hell."
Carn didn't reply immediately. In his mind he could still see Larkarsky's ravaged face. The beatings from the authorities were fading to lurid yellows and greens but the gouges, they were fresh, and his eyes......
"But his eyes, why did he tear out his own eyes?" He shuddered, his breathing was becoming more regular now but his mind was still a whirl of emotions. He would never forgive Ralscon for this.
"As I said, whatever he has seen or imagined he has seen, it was too much. He did it just a couple of days after arriving, he didn't even make a noise while doing it. We didn't know until the next day. He just sat there the whole time while he gouged them out. Was he a friend?"
Carn's normal demeanour reasserted itself. "Hardly, he was barely a colleague. We have never spoken, I don't know the man and now I never will. Tell me doctor, where are his effects?"
"Stored upstairs securely, nothing has been touched. Would you like me to have them brought to you?"
"Please have them sent to my offices back in Narthley. There is nothing further for me here." He walked back down the dark corridor, retracing his steps. Whatever had happened at Endomaw, he wasn't going to get the answer from poor Larkarsky directly. Hopefully the Adept's anally precise written reports would divulge the answers he needed. In the meantime he wanted to get out of this hellhole as quickly as possible.
II: 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 nonetheless. 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 or so 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, 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 of 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 worn 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 given the atmospheric conditions. 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. Real wood panelling and luxurious plush upholstery. The passenger compartment was unoccupied 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 noting that the front panel was a little loose, 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 skeletal 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 liquor 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 really 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, reading Larkarsky's notes earlier might have actually kept thoughts of the horrific experience at the asylum from his mind. 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...
It was dark when Carn awoke, though that was no real indicator of time given that his office had no exterior windows. He'd never minded, there wasn’t really anything worth looking out on in Narthley anyway. Nonetheless it was dark, the Illuminator Servo skull hovering dormant nearby, having deactivated the light after detecting a prolonged period of inactivity, or perhaps picking up on his habitual soft snoring. Carn didn’t know or care, the spirits of these machines were inscrutable at the best of times, primitive though they were. He reactivated the Servoskull’s illumination function and rubbed the back of his neck, massaging the crick attained from his awkward sleeping position and working his jaw, trying to rid himself of the sour taste and numb mouth associated with excessive Skee consumption. Checking his chronometer he could see that several hours had passed. It was the best sleep he had had in an age, though his dreams had, as so oft of late, been infiltrated by Larkarsky’s mutilated visage. In this instance however it had been whilst visualizing much of the ill-fated Adept's logs that he had read. Fading swiftly as dreams were wont to do, he struggled to recollect what he had absorbed before slumber overtook him.
Pallas, (after reading so many of his thoughts, Carn felt he knew him in a way he never could in real life) had awoken a short distance from his destination and noted that there was some change in his surroundings with banners and pendants of a golden yellow hung everywhere, along with repeated occurrences of an odd symbol; again rendered in yellow. An odd aesthetic choice to his mind, especially stark against the drab environs of Endomaw. He noticed too that the tanks and troops that were even more prevalent this deep in the city (for a city it indeed seemed to be despite all reports and available information to the contrary) were similarly emblazoned with the same logo. When his luxurious transport had stopped, Pallas had been escorted by his driver, (who had supplied him with another mask as the Adept had left his on his seat) into a large and strangely architectured building, crenellated with gargoyles and statues of a design that Pallas was wholly unfamiliar with and yet filled him with an unaccountable trepidation.
Presently he was introduced to the administrator of Endomaw, a hunched and robed individual called Geriok Mkawas. The Adept described him as ‘an unwholesome sort with a sibilant speech and exotic perfume.’ After exchanging banal pleasantries they had got to work and Larkarsky had noted their conversation in exhausting and brain numbing detail. Much of it was to do with quotas and production levels, statistical and baffling with percentages and very long figures which Carn really had no grasp of at all. After all, it wasn’t his job, investigating what had happened to Larkarsky and Endomaw (it was still silent) was. Suffice to say for every point that the Adept raised Geriok seemed to have a counter argument, none of which warranted further investigation. In fact Geriok seemed somewhat put out and surprised that Larkarsky had been sent at all. Insisting that nothing was unduly awry and no further action was required. Nonetheless Pallas Larkarsky had dutifully requested to inspect the mining operation itself. This tallied with the first brief report which Pallas had submitted back to Narthley in which he had indicated that he had met the administrator and following a lengthy discussion was now going to inspect the mine. In this report all seemed normal and no sign was shown of the unease that was omnipresent in later communications.
The journey to the mining site was relatively uneventful though Pallas did remark that his host became ever more garrulous, presumably in an attempt to deflect Larkarksy’s insistent probing. For his part, the Adept noted that the second journey was unremarkable though he found that he was noticing more and more as time went on, including furtive movements in the shadows that had previously gone unseen. Half conversing with Geriok and half analysing the passing scenery, he noted that as they headed towards the mine there were increased signs of building and construction and an higher military presence. Merely for security and deterrence, Geriok assured him with a disarming yet false smile. Nonetheless Pallas noted that Endomaw seemed prepared for conflict and more than capable of defending itself. He surmised that the city was only eclipsed by Narthley in terms of scope and capability. He recorded that there was something else that bothered him but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it and in any event was quickly distracted and enamoured by the vibrant purple foliage that appeared as the limousine left Endomaw city and headed toward the Endomaw Mine.
That was as far as Carn had got before he had fallen asleep. It seemed that he had made some notes of his own before he had lost the battle for wakefulness and he tidied these up briefly, submitting a short report of his own so as to keep Ralscon off his back for a little longer. He marveled at how someone as seldom spoken as Pallas Larkarsky could be so amazingly verbose when it came to the written word. Every little detail and thought was captured and recorded and seemingly much of it was from his own recollection as unless Carn was missing something, the shorthand scrawled notes contained only very basic information and statistics. Indeed it seemed that Larkarsky may well have had an Eidetic memory such was his power of recall. Carn chided himself for thinking about the Adept in the past tense but then reflected that given his current condition his memory may well be best referred to as a thing that was, rather than is. Rising from his desk he stuffed all the slates and notes into the satchel, deciding to take them home with him. As he did so the Aquila on the golden chain fell from its pocket and he caught it, looking at it for a moment in his palm as it caught the soft light from the Servo skull which dutifully hovered nearby. He resolved to return this charm to Larkarsky if he got the chance, it was the least he could do.
On his all too brief return to his residence Carn checked his messages, he deleted any from Ralscon and replied to one from an acquaintance that he had socialised with pleasantly a couple of weeks ago. There were also the ubiquitous commercial messages which he ignored and erased. Well, all but one that purported to tell of a miracle Emperor Blessed hair restorative. He ruefully rubbed his own thinning scalp, before deciding that this too was charlatan in nature and consigning It too to digital oblivion. He knelt briefly before the altar in his living area, closing his eyes and making the sign of the Aquila over his chest as he heartfeltly recited a couple of prayers to the God Emperor of Man, Beloved by All. He added a prayer for Larkarsky as well, knowing that the Adept would be quite unable to make his own genuflections. Carn was far from the most pious of individuals but it seemed only right. Rising from the small shrine he activated the wallscreen and took in a propaganda programme before catching up with the latest newscast and assuring himself that all was right, or at least no more wrong than usual, with Worth. Except something was. He couldn’t identify it, but something definitely was. Like hairs raising on the back of his neck there was an unease about him and he glanced about swiftly and furtively before deciding on a small glass of Skee to settle his nerves. The bottle sloshed reassuringly as he picked it up, though in reality barely a few days remained, perhaps less given his current consumption levels.
Pouring himself a more hefty measure than he had first intended he nonetheless sank it in one gulp, immediately pouring another. He found himself initially sipping it appreciatively before once again draining the glass in one swallow. He sat in his most comfortable chair and held out his hands in front of him. They were trembling, only slightly but there was a tremor there nonetheless. Throne, what had befallen him? A quick medi scan (another luxury afforded him by his status) that assured him that physically he was ok, failed to reassure him. A shower and food also failed to remedy the uncharacteristic and unfathomable dread that he was feeling. He even resorted to lighting and taking a few drags on a lho-stick he had tucked in a drawer before he felt nauseous and remembered why he had quit the narcotic in the first place.
His eyes flickered to the satchel which sat where he had deposited it by the side of his altar. Still open and lit, the faux candlelight cast distorted shadows across the floor and his richly embroidered rug. The shadows flickered and twisted and formed into writhing tentacles and he shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut. It was the Lho, he told himself, nothing more. It had been a while after all. Opening his eyes again he was gratified that the shadows seemed more quiescent, though they still moved slightly and unsettlingly. Rising, he shut the altar and the faux candles were snuffed out as the shrine registered the motion. Another glass of Skee was probably the last thing he needed but he poured one and knocked it back anyway, followed by another. The barest trace of alcohol remained in the bottle so he raised it to his lips and drained it. It didn’t help. Worse still, he didn’t really enjoy it, what a waste of good liquor. He tried to distract himself further but no matter what he did he couldn’t stop thinking about Endomaw and poor Pallas Larkarsky. It was with a half drunken air of resignation that he opened the satchel, retrieved the half read dataslate and powered it on. He would know no peace till he got to the bottom of this it seemed. He scrolled to the last read entry and then selected the succeeding log and read with bleary eyes before giving up and accessing the audio settings, connecting it up to his terminal and setting it up to read and record the logs. The equipment dutifully started copying the logs and the machine’s spirit started relaying Pallas’s writings in a dull, scratchy monotone:
"Presently we left the intriguing flora behind and approached Endomaw mine. Still, I found myself marveling at the near luminescence of the vibrant plants, pondering their botanical makeup and how they survived such harsh environments. Were they endemic to this area? Were they native to Worth? Colour aside they seemed unremarkable, perhaps the most intriguing thing about them being how they could propagate in Worth’s harsh and unyielding earth. The Purplish ash dust that covered our home must have some hitherto unknown nutrients that enabled them to flourish, but if that were the case why were they not more widespread? What was the Catalyst that provided them with such a foothold in this area in particular? I must confess that I allowed Geriok to continue his conversation somewhat one sided as I mused the possibilities. Not that I would have needed much of a reason to do so, continued interaction with the man left me feeling decidedly uneasy and unclean though there was nothing specific that I could attribute those feelings to.
Nonetheless, before long we approached the mining complex proper and my thoughts were taken from exotic flora back to the Administrator's prattling (Oh the irony! Carn thought with a sardonic smile) which I again deigned to indulge. Geriok was going out of his way to be accommodating, talking in that sibilant way, his words dripping with a honeyed hiss. I noticed that he reclined somewhat awkwardly and unnaturally and found that I inexplicably loathed this man. His bald pate, pale skin, overly white teeth and crocodilian smile all disgusted me.(Carn had no idea what a crocodilian was but inferred that it was non complimentary) The machine droned on heedless of his ignorance. I smiled in return and nodded attentively to his banal small talk, but my head was overwhelmed with the wrongness of the situation and I resolved to make another Vis report to HQ as soon as I disembarked.
Carn had reviewed this report, seemingly made in a shelter or lean to at the edge of the mine. Larkarsky had been agitated, tense and fidgety but advised that he had reached the mine proper and was descending to carry out his inspection and audit. He suggested that preparations were made to send additional adepts to the city as the scale of Endomaw was much more than had been initially surmised. This aside, the report was ordinary, short and to the point, with the promise of a full written report to be prepared and provided at a later time.
As we approached the mine complex I was taken aback once more, not by how large the installation was but rather the opposite. Endomaw mine was tiny, nothing more than a few buildings and inactive drills and smattering of earth moving equipment. The limousine pulled up and I got out, remembering my mask this time. though the driver seemed to have one prepared anyway. I noticed that Geriok wasn’t wearing a mask, and hiding a flash of annoyance he breezily explained that he had become inured to the air, at least for short distances, the driver on the other hand had not removed his once and it occurred to me that the grunt I had received when trying to engage him could have been somewhat muffled. My unease grew and I excused myself to make a quick communication back to Narthley in a sheltered spot, I was most perturbed, Endomaw City seemed entirely at odds with Endomaw Mine in terms of scale, it warranted further investigation I felt. This done I returned to the small building which Geriok and the driver had entered.
The Driver was nowhere to be seen but Geriok was animatedly remonstrating with another pair before glancing over at me and then back to his compatriots. He beckoned me over, smiling blankly in that reprehensible way. He introduced the two newcomers as Lek and Jerrod, explaining that he had important business to attend to nearby and would return in a while. It was nothing to worry about he assured me, merely an administrative matter that couldn’t be avoided. He left through a large double door to the side through which I very quickly spied a loading area with additional digging machinery and cargo vehicles. As the door shut it locked with a green rune flashing to red. I could only assume that Geriok carried a biometric key that had allowed him to open it, though I thought I might be able to make out a small keypad in the shadows. Turning back to Lek and Jerrod I introduced myself and my assignment, how long I expected it to take me (a couple of days to be thorough but I had overestimated the size of the operation as drastically as I had underestimated the size of Endomaw itself). and what I would require from them in order to complete it. They nodded and advised that they would need to take me down into the mine itself and therefore I would need to don a mining suit, similar to the garb they both wore. Fully understanding the importance of health and safety and standards to be adhered to, I readily agreed. As I was looking to be staying at least a few cycles they hastily arranged quarters for me and said they would take me to these first so that I could prepare for my first sojourn into the depths of Endomaw mine.
We went down some steps and into a dank passage with dripping pipes and flickering lights which cast strange shadows on the walls, unnatural and pulsating. I tried not to look at them, instead filling my mind with myriad quotas and statistics. Presently we came to a series of doors and they swung one open revealing a spartan room with a locker, a desk and a bunk. Lek, the more softly spoken of the pair (Jerrod’s tone was nigh on guttural) gestured into the room and bade me enter and prepare myself. They would return, he said, in 30 minutes and then we could continue our journey into the mine. They departed down the corridor and I watched them leave and turn a nearby corner before I closed the door behind me and engaged the electronic lock, I was gratified to see that there was also a secondary bolt as well and I pushed this across to further secure the room. I looked around and was perturbed to note the absence of a shrine or anywhere to pay obeisance to the Emperor. A panel in the far wall next to the bunk slid up at the touch of a dimly lit rune to reveal a wash basin and dirty mirror. I made a mental note of supplies and amenities I would need to request and disrobed and cleansed my body as best as I could.
The mining suit presented me with some problems as I was unfamiliar with its configuration. I put on the tunic and heavy mining boots but the over suit was more inscrutable and cumbersome. I donned it as best as I was able and shortly after there came a rapping at the door. Unbolting and unlocking it I was greeted by Jerrod, the larger of my two erstwhile guides and certainly the less approachable of the pair. He gruffly informed me that Lek awaited us and gestured for me to stand still so that he could adjust my suit. I felt no small pride as I noticed that his adjustments were minor and few and accompanied by a semi approving grunt. Properly dressed and equipped, I bent to retrieve my satchel and immediately smashed into the bunk with the bulky suit’s mining lamps. I flushed and grabbed my satchel, mustering as much dignity as I could. If Jerrod noticed he made no sign and had already started down the passageway as I exited the room. More stairs beckoned and as we descended into the lower levels it occurred to me that I was losing sense of placement and direction and without guidance would struggle to return to the surface. Before too long the stairs ended, leading to a small room filled with equipment and tools as well as some workstations and terminals. We exited this room through a grinding and stubborn sliding door and I took my first steps into Endomaw mine.
The machine stopped it's intonation and a dull hiss issued from the speaker grille. The terminal flashed, indicating that it had finished copying the files. It had probably finished a while ago, patiently signalling the completion of its task till prompted. Carn got up and disconnecting the data slate, instructed the machine to continue with the next entry, pausing it for a moment whilst he went to empty his bladder. Returning, he stopped just before he hit play, the selected file was flashing on the screen and at its increased size he could more easily see the file name. Unusual to say the least it conformed to no system or pattern that he could see, Dismissing it as another of Larkarsky’s idiosyncrasies he pressed play before settling back down. Trying not to look into the gloom as he did so. Nine logs down, six to go, and he was out of Skee and afraid to look into the shadows, Emperor save me, he thought.
The recording ended once again, and Carn opened his eyes. Though far more detailed the logs were proving less insightful than he had hoped. That there was something untoward was clear but the only one that could provide the information he needed was locked in an asylum and far, far beyond any use. He rubbed his face and reached for the bottle of Skee on his table before remembering it was empty. Damn. Perhaps some still remained in his hip flask. Just as he got up to rifle through his overcoat's pockets he noticed the wall comm flashing red. He didn't remember muting the chime but it was easily enough done and he'd probably done it without thinking. The insistent red pulse continued and he walked over to it, shaking the worst of his fugue off before hitting the acknowledgement rune.
Chapter VI: DISCOVERY AND DESTRUCTION
Carn nudged the mug of Recaff in front of him, it was still warm, though barely. He contemplated drinking the beverage but he had no taste for it and frankly he just wanted to leave Hyrk as soon as possible. He had been delayed quite enough already.
There had been questions, of course there had been questions. He had endured them, the endless repetition and mind numbing monotony of standard enquiries around poor Larkarsky's demise. Carn had informed them that he had no idea why Larkarsky had done what he had, and that he had no contact with the Adept apart from his previous, documented visit. The thing is, he was lying.
Of course he couldn't tell them the truth, they would have detained him even longer and he needed to journey to Endomaw as soon as possible as per Larkarsky's message. For one thing had become abundantly clear to Alistae Carn, over the last day. He might have feigned ignorance, pretended that he knew little to nothing about the events in question, that he was nothing more than a witness to the tragic aftermath of Larkarsky's untimely death, but he knew the reality that lay beyond the veil he hid behind. Larkarsky had been a Psyker.
Not just any Psyker either, to send a message such as Larkarsky had done, (for Carn firmly believed this is what had happened) he must have had no small degree of power and control. However, something much more potent had been hunting him and he had finally been bought low. But not before managing to contact Carn through his subconsciousness. Carn had ruminated over the experience while nodding with a blank expression to the continued probing. Though he maintained his facade of ignorance his professional mind was racing and analysing all of the information at hand. To tell of Larkarsky's true nature would only complicate matters, especially here. Such revelations were not likely to be well received in such a place.
A weary Doctor Speltz appeared from a door on the left, fresh from her own interview, and sat down opposite Carn.
"Hell of a night," she offered.
Carn just grunted, he couldn't disagree, even if he was sticking to his policy of noncommittal ambivalent interaction.
You drinking that? Speltz asked. She indicated the full cup of recaff, with a hopeful expression. Carn pushed it toward her and she accepted it gratefully, draining it quickly and letting out a satisfied sigh while visibly sinking into the chair.
"I've seen some things," she confessed. "when you have been doing this as long as I have it's inevitable, but I tell you, tonight is beyond my experience. Words in blood, that smile, not in 40 years have I seen anything quite like it. I'll not forget this night in a hurry and Emperor preserve me, I hope I never have to see anything like it again.
He was fine the last time I checked you know, only a couple of hours before," she continued when no response was forthcoming from across the table. "Sitting there as usual, muttering. What could have happened within such a short space of time to drive him to do what he did? Don't think it escaped my notice that you happened to turn up around the same time, with that charm. What is it? I heard that noise you know, that strange sound coming from it, I know I didn't imagine it." Her words were coming faster and faster now as the recaff hit her system and did it's work. Her eyes blazed.
"There is something you aren't telling me, something about this whole situation that you are keeping to yourself. I can feel it, you KNOW something." She slammed a fist into the table with as much force as her aged frame could muster. "Tell me you bastard! what are you hiding?" Her voice rose in pitch, becoming strained and shrill. The guards over at the door looked over suspiciously and Carn reached out and grabbed her arm in an effort to silence her. Their eyes met.
"Trust me Doctor, when I say you are better off not knowing." Carn reached out with his other hand and placed it on top of the one holding onto the Doctors arm, turning an aggressive and restricting gesture into a comforting one. "I mean it," he added earnestly, "I could easily just say it is classified but in actuality I am sparing you by not telling you. Suffice to say, it is my burden and mine alone, the reason for me coming here is now clearly null and void and it is time for me to leave. I shall say no more." He looked at her earnestly, "You may voice your suspicions if you so desire but time is of the essence and I have much to do. I swear in the Holy Emperor's name that my motivations and aims are pure. I would ask you not to cause me any further delay. I do the Emperor's work and have tarried long enough." He released the Doctor's arm and sat back, clearly indicating she was free to act. He saw indecision and suspicion war in her eyes for a moment before she made her choice.
"Fine", she snapped. "I dont care, like I said, i've seen enough shit. Go, walk away and get on with whatever you think it is you have to do". the chair slid back with a screech on the tiled floor as she got up and stalked off to speak to some orderlies clustered in a corner.
"Thank you," Carn breathed, though he wasn't sure who he was thanking. He thumbed the Aquila in his pocket, it felt warm, comforting. "Thank you."
Two hours later the transport lifted into the air. Carn sent another quick message to both Ralscon and Endomaw, there was no point in secrecy. He had little hope of infiltrating Endomaw in any case. He said nothing of the psychic message to Ralscon and nothing of Larkarsky at all to the contact at Endomaw, instead only informing them of a rough ETA and making a number of small requests for his arrival. Best to keep his cards close to his chest, he thought. He would offer up as little information to them as possible whilst gleaning as much as he could in return. In any event he had seven hours till he reached Endomaw (it was pretty much on the other side of Worth) and a lot of work and investigation to do. He pored over the dataslate, analysing all the text, replaying the vidlogs and trying to find a pattern in the data. He even refrained from drinking any Skee, (though he confessed to himself that that might have been a different matter had it not been the synthesised stuff) in order to keep a clear head. He accumulated a ream of papers writing down algorithms and potential codes and ciphers that might have been used to encrypt vital information but to no avail.
"Useless," he muttered, casting the papers down on top of the dataslate. He reconsidered his abstinence, frustrated beyond belief. No, he needed to stay focused. He cast his eyes to the ceiling of the transport and exhaled deeply. A prayer to the Emperor came to mind and he closed his eyes and recited it reverently. Upon completion of the benediction he opened his eyes, calmed and centred. He looked down at the dataslates and his jaw dropped. He rubbed his eyes, not quite able to believe what he was seeing. No, it was, it had to be, there was no other possibility.
Through chance or divine intervention the papers had fallen across the activated dataslate in a way that showed exactly the first digit from each entry, what had seemed a nonsensical series of numbers and letters was suddenly revealed to be a sequence and a word.
619519 - HEART
There was no chance this was a coincidence, this had to be what Larkarsky had been referring to, but what did it mean? He wracked his memory. He had to be missing something, something that he had seen but had not grasped the significance of, but what? Time was ticking down and he was only getting closer to Endomaw, it was important that he got to the truth before he landed, he could feel it. The analytical part of his mind worked overtime as he tackled the puzzle.
"619519 - HEART, 619519 - HEART" he repeated to himself, as if each repetition would bring him closer to the solution. "Dammit Larkarsky, why did you have to be so obtuse?" even as he said the words, he knew the answer. Larkarsky had been paranoid, and with good reason, he had been compelled to hide the information as deep as possible in order to keep it from the wrong hands. Now it was up to Carn to find the answer. 619519 HEART... what did it MEAN?
Before long, the strain of analysis overtook him and he fell into a restless slumber. Inevitably thoughts of Larkarsky infiltrated his dream. A kaleidoscopic array of images and sequences rushing through his subconsciousness too fast to decipher. Too much, too much, a tidal wave of information that he could not hope to process. The bombardment continued as his unconscious mind attempted to compartmentalise and filter the information. Then abruptly it ceased and Larkarsky's face appeared in the darkness...
Alistae....Alistae....he taunted, his voice ethereal and lilting. Carn struck out in his dream, thrashing through Larkarsky's face which dissipated like mist, fading into the darkness and leaving only his voice....
"I thought I might write a book about this one day...."
Carn snapped awake as if he had been shaken roughly. His mind was crystal clear. He checked his chronometer, 16 minutes till arrival at Endomaw. He must have slept through the pilot's announcements, he had little time left. 'I thought I might write a book about this one day,' could it really be that simple? He rummaged around in the satchel by his feet, pulling out the other dataslate, the one full of literature. Was it pure luck that he had bought it with him? Or something else? He put such ruminations from his mind and powered up the slate. He scrolled through the meticulously organised entries, his excitement growing as he noted the filing format matched the code hidden in the indexing on the other slate. After accessing various subfolders and files he found the match. 6.195.19. Heart of the Imperium by Maximillian Vos Brynd. He stopped a moment, heart pounding as anticipation filled him, and then thumbed the access key...
Suddenly the dataslate was wrenched out of his hand as the transport was violently hurled to one side with a deafening boom. A second followed scant moments later and Carn was launched from his seat as the shuttle lurched crazily. An alarm began to blare and red lights flashed as yet another explosion rocked the craft. A sudden loss in altitude resulted in a moment of weightlessness and he saw the dataslate lift for a moment in front of him, the text tantalisingly illegible to his blurred eyes. Then the moment passed and he crashed to the floor painfully as the shuttle plummeted in an uncontrolled spiralling dive. He groggily crawled toward the comms panel on a nearby wall, calling up the pilot's recorded log. The pilot itself showed as uncontactable, so either it had been irreparably damaged or was fully devoted to the preservation of the shuttle. Slaved into the craft's systems it could quite easily be either. Carn scanned the entries, noting with gratitude the exceptional evasive maneuvers that the pilot had performed to escape certain death. And the cause of the pilot's endeavours? A missile lock, from Endomaw. So that's how it was to be, he thought. He didn't have time to think much else, a shrill tone indicated that the altitude was bottoming out and he barely had time to grab both the dataslate and the Aquila in his pocket before the shuttle hit the ground and tore itself apart in a storm of twisted metal.
"An accident", Pascal Ralscon repeated as the screen flashed off and his dulled reflection stared back at him expressionlessly. The Endomaw Chief Administrator Geriok had been abject in his contrition, explaining that a guidance malfunction on the defence system had resulted in Prefect Carn's shuttle being erroneously targeted and destroyed. There were no survivors. Throne's sake, this was the last thing he needed. The resulting administration alone would be a nightmare, to say nothing of sending additional investigators to follow up on Carn's vague suspicions. Frankly it was becoming more hassle than it was worth. Larkarsky had gone out there, something had happened and he had gone crazy, big deal. Carn? No big loss there, the man was an insufferable drunken arse, he'd not be missed. Ralscon could comfortably draw a nice thick line of finality under the whole thing and not have to think about it again. Yeah he could investigate further but he had no desire to, no one was going to thank him for it anyway, and he didn't want any plaudits in any case. He had no aspirations, no ambitions and no interest in doing anything more than he had to, his mid level bureaucratic existence would do him just fine.
"Screw it", he muttered and put all of Carn's materiel and reports into a file, a quick jab of a button and it would no longer be his problem. He prepared a cursory report and sent it off to his superiors on Celias IV. It was someone else's responsibility now, good riddance. As it was he had to fill Carn's position and he hadn't even got a replacement for Larkarsky yet. Shit, he should have added the personnel requisition request to his report, now he would have to send another. His mood soured even further, if there was one thing that he hated it was unnecessary work. Day ruined, and it was all Carn's fault. He was glad the bastard was dead.
II: 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 nonetheless. 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 or so 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, 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 of 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 worn 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 given the atmospheric conditions. 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. Real wood panelling and luxurious plush upholstery. The passenger compartment was unoccupied 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 noting that the front panel was a little loose, 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 skeletal 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 liquor 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 really 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, reading Larkarsky's notes earlier might have actually kept thoughts of the horrific experience at the asylum from his mind. 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...
III: PRAYERS AND UNEASE
It was dark when Carn awoke, though that was no real indicator of time given that his office had no exterior windows. He'd never minded, there wasn’t really anything worth looking out on in Narthley anyway. Nonetheless it was dark, the Illuminator Servo skull hovering dormant nearby, having deactivated the light after detecting a prolonged period of inactivity, or perhaps picking up on his habitual soft snoring. Carn didn’t know or care, the spirits of these machines were inscrutable at the best of times, primitive though they were. He reactivated the Servoskull’s illumination function and rubbed the back of his neck, massaging the crick attained from his awkward sleeping position and working his jaw, trying to rid himself of the sour taste and numb mouth associated with excessive Skee consumption. Checking his chronometer he could see that several hours had passed. It was the best sleep he had had in an age, though his dreams had, as so oft of late, been infiltrated by Larkarsky’s mutilated visage. In this instance however it had been whilst visualizing much of the ill-fated Adept's logs that he had read. Fading swiftly as dreams were wont to do, he struggled to recollect what he had absorbed before slumber overtook him.
Pallas, (after reading so many of his thoughts, Carn felt he knew him in a way he never could in real life) had awoken a short distance from his destination and noted that there was some change in his surroundings with banners and pendants of a golden yellow hung everywhere, along with repeated occurrences of an odd symbol; again rendered in yellow. An odd aesthetic choice to his mind, especially stark against the drab environs of Endomaw. He noticed too that the tanks and troops that were even more prevalent this deep in the city (for a city it indeed seemed to be despite all reports and available information to the contrary) were similarly emblazoned with the same logo. When his luxurious transport had stopped, Pallas had been escorted by his driver, (who had supplied him with another mask as the Adept had left his on his seat) into a large and strangely architectured building, crenellated with gargoyles and statues of a design that Pallas was wholly unfamiliar with and yet filled him with an unaccountable trepidation.
Presently he was introduced to the administrator of Endomaw, a hunched and robed individual called Geriok Mkawas. The Adept described him as ‘an unwholesome sort with a sibilant speech and exotic perfume.’ After exchanging banal pleasantries they had got to work and Larkarsky had noted their conversation in exhausting and brain numbing detail. Much of it was to do with quotas and production levels, statistical and baffling with percentages and very long figures which Carn really had no grasp of at all. After all, it wasn’t his job, investigating what had happened to Larkarsky and Endomaw (it was still silent) was. Suffice to say for every point that the Adept raised Geriok seemed to have a counter argument, none of which warranted further investigation. In fact Geriok seemed somewhat put out and surprised that Larkarsky had been sent at all. Insisting that nothing was unduly awry and no further action was required. Nonetheless Pallas Larkarsky had dutifully requested to inspect the mining operation itself. This tallied with the first brief report which Pallas had submitted back to Narthley in which he had indicated that he had met the administrator and following a lengthy discussion was now going to inspect the mine. In this report all seemed normal and no sign was shown of the unease that was omnipresent in later communications.
The journey to the mining site was relatively uneventful though Pallas did remark that his host became ever more garrulous, presumably in an attempt to deflect Larkarksy’s insistent probing. For his part, the Adept noted that the second journey was unremarkable though he found that he was noticing more and more as time went on, including furtive movements in the shadows that had previously gone unseen. Half conversing with Geriok and half analysing the passing scenery, he noted that as they headed towards the mine there were increased signs of building and construction and an higher military presence. Merely for security and deterrence, Geriok assured him with a disarming yet false smile. Nonetheless Pallas noted that Endomaw seemed prepared for conflict and more than capable of defending itself. He surmised that the city was only eclipsed by Narthley in terms of scope and capability. He recorded that there was something else that bothered him but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it and in any event was quickly distracted and enamoured by the vibrant purple foliage that appeared as the limousine left Endomaw city and headed toward the Endomaw Mine.
That was as far as Carn had got before he had fallen asleep. It seemed that he had made some notes of his own before he had lost the battle for wakefulness and he tidied these up briefly, submitting a short report of his own so as to keep Ralscon off his back for a little longer. He marveled at how someone as seldom spoken as Pallas Larkarsky could be so amazingly verbose when it came to the written word. Every little detail and thought was captured and recorded and seemingly much of it was from his own recollection as unless Carn was missing something, the shorthand scrawled notes contained only very basic information and statistics. Indeed it seemed that Larkarsky may well have had an Eidetic memory such was his power of recall. Carn chided himself for thinking about the Adept in the past tense but then reflected that given his current condition his memory may well be best referred to as a thing that was, rather than is. Rising from his desk he stuffed all the slates and notes into the satchel, deciding to take them home with him. As he did so the Aquila on the golden chain fell from its pocket and he caught it, looking at it for a moment in his palm as it caught the soft light from the Servo skull which dutifully hovered nearby. He resolved to return this charm to Larkarsky if he got the chance, it was the least he could do.
*
On his all too brief return to his residence Carn checked his messages, he deleted any from Ralscon and replied to one from an acquaintance that he had socialised with pleasantly a couple of weeks ago. There were also the ubiquitous commercial messages which he ignored and erased. Well, all but one that purported to tell of a miracle Emperor Blessed hair restorative. He ruefully rubbed his own thinning scalp, before deciding that this too was charlatan in nature and consigning It too to digital oblivion. He knelt briefly before the altar in his living area, closing his eyes and making the sign of the Aquila over his chest as he heartfeltly recited a couple of prayers to the God Emperor of Man, Beloved by All. He added a prayer for Larkarsky as well, knowing that the Adept would be quite unable to make his own genuflections. Carn was far from the most pious of individuals but it seemed only right. Rising from the small shrine he activated the wallscreen and took in a propaganda programme before catching up with the latest newscast and assuring himself that all was right, or at least no more wrong than usual, with Worth. Except something was. He couldn’t identify it, but something definitely was. Like hairs raising on the back of his neck there was an unease about him and he glanced about swiftly and furtively before deciding on a small glass of Skee to settle his nerves. The bottle sloshed reassuringly as he picked it up, though in reality barely a few days remained, perhaps less given his current consumption levels.
Pouring himself a more hefty measure than he had first intended he nonetheless sank it in one gulp, immediately pouring another. He found himself initially sipping it appreciatively before once again draining the glass in one swallow. He sat in his most comfortable chair and held out his hands in front of him. They were trembling, only slightly but there was a tremor there nonetheless. Throne, what had befallen him? A quick medi scan (another luxury afforded him by his status) that assured him that physically he was ok, failed to reassure him. A shower and food also failed to remedy the uncharacteristic and unfathomable dread that he was feeling. He even resorted to lighting and taking a few drags on a lho-stick he had tucked in a drawer before he felt nauseous and remembered why he had quit the narcotic in the first place.
His eyes flickered to the satchel which sat where he had deposited it by the side of his altar. Still open and lit, the faux candlelight cast distorted shadows across the floor and his richly embroidered rug. The shadows flickered and twisted and formed into writhing tentacles and he shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut. It was the Lho, he told himself, nothing more. It had been a while after all. Opening his eyes again he was gratified that the shadows seemed more quiescent, though they still moved slightly and unsettlingly. Rising, he shut the altar and the faux candles were snuffed out as the shrine registered the motion. Another glass of Skee was probably the last thing he needed but he poured one and knocked it back anyway, followed by another. The barest trace of alcohol remained in the bottle so he raised it to his lips and drained it. It didn’t help. Worse still, he didn’t really enjoy it, what a waste of good liquor. He tried to distract himself further but no matter what he did he couldn’t stop thinking about Endomaw and poor Pallas Larkarsky. It was with a half drunken air of resignation that he opened the satchel, retrieved the half read dataslate and powered it on. He would know no peace till he got to the bottom of this it seemed. He scrolled to the last read entry and then selected the succeeding log and read with bleary eyes before giving up and accessing the audio settings, connecting it up to his terminal and setting it up to read and record the logs. The equipment dutifully started copying the logs and the machine’s spirit started relaying Pallas’s writings in a dull, scratchy monotone:
"Presently we left the intriguing flora behind and approached Endomaw mine. Still, I found myself marveling at the near luminescence of the vibrant plants, pondering their botanical makeup and how they survived such harsh environments. Were they endemic to this area? Were they native to Worth? Colour aside they seemed unremarkable, perhaps the most intriguing thing about them being how they could propagate in Worth’s harsh and unyielding earth. The Purplish ash dust that covered our home must have some hitherto unknown nutrients that enabled them to flourish, but if that were the case why were they not more widespread? What was the Catalyst that provided them with such a foothold in this area in particular? I must confess that I allowed Geriok to continue his conversation somewhat one sided as I mused the possibilities. Not that I would have needed much of a reason to do so, continued interaction with the man left me feeling decidedly uneasy and unclean though there was nothing specific that I could attribute those feelings to.
Nonetheless, before long we approached the mining complex proper and my thoughts were taken from exotic flora back to the Administrator's prattling (Oh the irony! Carn thought with a sardonic smile) which I again deigned to indulge. Geriok was going out of his way to be accommodating, talking in that sibilant way, his words dripping with a honeyed hiss. I noticed that he reclined somewhat awkwardly and unnaturally and found that I inexplicably loathed this man. His bald pate, pale skin, overly white teeth and crocodilian smile all disgusted me.(Carn had no idea what a crocodilian was but inferred that it was non complimentary) The machine droned on heedless of his ignorance. I smiled in return and nodded attentively to his banal small talk, but my head was overwhelmed with the wrongness of the situation and I resolved to make another Vis report to HQ as soon as I disembarked.
Carn had reviewed this report, seemingly made in a shelter or lean to at the edge of the mine. Larkarsky had been agitated, tense and fidgety but advised that he had reached the mine proper and was descending to carry out his inspection and audit. He suggested that preparations were made to send additional adepts to the city as the scale of Endomaw was much more than had been initially surmised. This aside, the report was ordinary, short and to the point, with the promise of a full written report to be prepared and provided at a later time.
As we approached the mine complex I was taken aback once more, not by how large the installation was but rather the opposite. Endomaw mine was tiny, nothing more than a few buildings and inactive drills and smattering of earth moving equipment. The limousine pulled up and I got out, remembering my mask this time. though the driver seemed to have one prepared anyway. I noticed that Geriok wasn’t wearing a mask, and hiding a flash of annoyance he breezily explained that he had become inured to the air, at least for short distances, the driver on the other hand had not removed his once and it occurred to me that the grunt I had received when trying to engage him could have been somewhat muffled. My unease grew and I excused myself to make a quick communication back to Narthley in a sheltered spot, I was most perturbed, Endomaw City seemed entirely at odds with Endomaw Mine in terms of scale, it warranted further investigation I felt. This done I returned to the small building which Geriok and the driver had entered.
The Driver was nowhere to be seen but Geriok was animatedly remonstrating with another pair before glancing over at me and then back to his compatriots. He beckoned me over, smiling blankly in that reprehensible way. He introduced the two newcomers as Lek and Jerrod, explaining that he had important business to attend to nearby and would return in a while. It was nothing to worry about he assured me, merely an administrative matter that couldn’t be avoided. He left through a large double door to the side through which I very quickly spied a loading area with additional digging machinery and cargo vehicles. As the door shut it locked with a green rune flashing to red. I could only assume that Geriok carried a biometric key that had allowed him to open it, though I thought I might be able to make out a small keypad in the shadows. Turning back to Lek and Jerrod I introduced myself and my assignment, how long I expected it to take me (a couple of days to be thorough but I had overestimated the size of the operation as drastically as I had underestimated the size of Endomaw itself). and what I would require from them in order to complete it. They nodded and advised that they would need to take me down into the mine itself and therefore I would need to don a mining suit, similar to the garb they both wore. Fully understanding the importance of health and safety and standards to be adhered to, I readily agreed. As I was looking to be staying at least a few cycles they hastily arranged quarters for me and said they would take me to these first so that I could prepare for my first sojourn into the depths of Endomaw mine.
We went down some steps and into a dank passage with dripping pipes and flickering lights which cast strange shadows on the walls, unnatural and pulsating. I tried not to look at them, instead filling my mind with myriad quotas and statistics. Presently we came to a series of doors and they swung one open revealing a spartan room with a locker, a desk and a bunk. Lek, the more softly spoken of the pair (Jerrod’s tone was nigh on guttural) gestured into the room and bade me enter and prepare myself. They would return, he said, in 30 minutes and then we could continue our journey into the mine. They departed down the corridor and I watched them leave and turn a nearby corner before I closed the door behind me and engaged the electronic lock, I was gratified to see that there was also a secondary bolt as well and I pushed this across to further secure the room. I looked around and was perturbed to note the absence of a shrine or anywhere to pay obeisance to the Emperor. A panel in the far wall next to the bunk slid up at the touch of a dimly lit rune to reveal a wash basin and dirty mirror. I made a mental note of supplies and amenities I would need to request and disrobed and cleansed my body as best as I could.
The mining suit presented me with some problems as I was unfamiliar with its configuration. I put on the tunic and heavy mining boots but the over suit was more inscrutable and cumbersome. I donned it as best as I was able and shortly after there came a rapping at the door. Unbolting and unlocking it I was greeted by Jerrod, the larger of my two erstwhile guides and certainly the less approachable of the pair. He gruffly informed me that Lek awaited us and gestured for me to stand still so that he could adjust my suit. I felt no small pride as I noticed that his adjustments were minor and few and accompanied by a semi approving grunt. Properly dressed and equipped, I bent to retrieve my satchel and immediately smashed into the bunk with the bulky suit’s mining lamps. I flushed and grabbed my satchel, mustering as much dignity as I could. If Jerrod noticed he made no sign and had already started down the passageway as I exited the room. More stairs beckoned and as we descended into the lower levels it occurred to me that I was losing sense of placement and direction and without guidance would struggle to return to the surface. Before too long the stairs ended, leading to a small room filled with equipment and tools as well as some workstations and terminals. We exited this room through a grinding and stubborn sliding door and I took my first steps into Endomaw mine.
The machine stopped it's intonation and a dull hiss issued from the speaker grille. The terminal flashed, indicating that it had finished copying the files. It had probably finished a while ago, patiently signalling the completion of its task till prompted. Carn got up and disconnecting the data slate, instructed the machine to continue with the next entry, pausing it for a moment whilst he went to empty his bladder. Returning, he stopped just before he hit play, the selected file was flashing on the screen and at its increased size he could more easily see the file name. Unusual to say the least it conformed to no system or pattern that he could see, Dismissing it as another of Larkarsky’s idiosyncrasies he pressed play before settling back down. Trying not to look into the gloom as he did so. Nine logs down, six to go, and he was out of Skee and afraid to look into the shadows, Emperor save me, he thought.
IV: INTO THE DEPTHS.
My first impression of Endomaw mine was that it was a lot smaller than I had expected, much like the above surface complex. Whereas I had, especially given the size of the city that was supposed to only be a town, expected a vast subterranean chasm full of industry and noise, instead there was only a small chamber with a few carts of ore and a trio of tunnels with a smattering of stooped workers in mining suits processing and digging. I tried to hide my disappointment and perplexion and instead followed Jerrod as he strode down the right most tunnel. His shadowed form appeared intermittently as he passed the halogen lights that dotted the passageway and I hurried to close the distance lest I lose my guide and become lost, I noticed that there were junctions at irregular intervals but no signs for navigation and resolved to not stray from Jerrod again as I could see no markings of guidance or direction.
Presently, after a few minutes walking and a couple of changes of course we came to another small dimly lit chamber. Here, Lek awaited us, somehow looking simultaneously both bored and nervous. He greeted me in his soft tone and explained that we needed to progress even deeper, that this original network of tunnels was little more than the earliest parts of the excavation, created primarily for the logistics of earth moving. A trial and error attitude towards finding the best seams and digging areas. I stepped into the small cage that he was indicating and he followed me, a heavy tread signalling that Jerrod would also be accompanying us. Lek hit a small switch by the side of the cage and with a sharp jolt and anguished squeal the cage started to descend.
For a few moments we were surrounded by rock as the shaft the cage occupied was closed in and barely wide enough for our conveyance to pass undamaged. I felt claustrophobia closing in and gripped the rail of the cage tightly, trying to control my breathing and not think about the megatons of Worth that were above me. Then the walls of rock gave way and we emerged into a large cavern much more in line with my expectations of Endomaw mine. Though still not gargantuan in scale there was at least a lot more activity and progress apparent. The cavern was dotted with further tunnels from which wire cables were suspended with ore being constantly moved from tunnel to tunnel. As I looked over the railing below me I could see that this mine was deep indeed, the bottom being well beyond my sight, and a sudden movement and shuffling of feet behind me convinced me to step back, even as I put the paranoia down to the remnants of my earlier feelings of claustrophobia.
"Impressive isn't it?" Lek breathed, seemingly oblivious to my discomfort though I noticed that Jerrod suddenly seemed angry. I nodded, stepping further back from the railing and making a show of taking my communicator from my satchel. I checked the device and was gratified that even this far down the Machine Spirit endeavoured to deliver a reasonable quality of signal, I breathed a prayer to the Emperor and subconsciously touched the chain around my neck, feeling the golden Aquila against my chest. I looked up at Jerrod who was positively glowering at me and quickly looked away, busying myself with the innards of my satchel. In silence we continued to descend, the cage juddering from time to time and preventing my fears from being completely allayed. In time our downwards journey reached its climax and the cage halted at what I estimated to be 600 metres below the entrance of the cavern. Below us the chasm yawned and the bottom of the mine was still out of sight. I saw all this through the grille of the cage floor, being unwilling to approach the railing again, somewhat perturbed by the expression on Jerrod's face. I must confess my legs were a little unsteady as I exited the cage but with solid rock beneath my feet I swiftly regained my equilibrium and started to turn my mind to work once more.
To his credit, Lek fielded many of my questions adroitly, only a few of my queries proving beyond his knowledge. These, he assured me, another would be able to answer. To this end he led me down another tunnel, one that curved often and sharply. Eventually however, and after a slight incline which I estimated had put us about 80 meteres closer to the surface, we came to a large metal door. Activating a comm panel Lek spoke some pass phrase which was beyond my hearing and the door slid open. Stepping inside I was taken aback at the change in surroundings, metal walls and rooms surrounded me and corridors and other such familiarities of internal architecture abounded. After some time traversing rock and tunnels it was quite jarring but I quickly recovered and turned to face the tall character that was approaching me. He had thin, pinched predatory features and a high pronounced forehead which lent him a regal and imposing air. He introduced himself as Ganvan Seris, a senior figure among the hierarchy of the mine, though he neglected to divulge his exact title.
Ganvan spoke in an almost hypnotic low and mellifluous tone, clearly enunciated and in the manner of a master orator. I found myself compelled to look at him and he had my complete attention. indeed I was quite rapt. Unable to look away I swiftly assessed him as best as I was able. Clad in a rich yellow robe, he carried a staff of ebony topped with a four armed figure. He too wore a mining suit, though it seemed to be heavily customized, lacking many of the bulky accouterments and lights that adorned my own outfit. Furthermore his suit featured a tall cowl which only added to his stature. His face was gaunt and he was completely bald, in fact so were Lek and Jerrod, not just bald but completely hairless. It was at that moment that I resolved the nagging feeling that I had been experiencing. Every single individual I had seen in Endomaw Mine was bald, completely bereft of any hair at all. A chill ran down my spine as I realised that even back on the journey in the limousine every denizen of Endomaw I had seen had been cowled or hooded. Suppressing the tremor from my voice, I raised this point with Ganvan. His smooth answer that it was prolonged exposure to the ore seemed to ring false to my ears but his tone was soothing and I felt somehow compelled to believe him. He also reassured me, with a disarming smile, that I was safe and it took many months continuous exposure to see any effects. I queried if the hair grew back once the individual was removed from proximity to the ore and Ganvan airily replied that he didn't know. Thinking back to Geriok and citizenry of Endomaw it seemed unlikely but even as my brain tried to work through the sudden haze it was experiencing to argue that the citizens I had seen had surely had minimal, if any, exposure to the ore, I found myself unable to reason or cogitate and indeed the fog became denser the longer Ganvan spoke to me.
Desperately trying to regain some sense of control and mental faculty I took a Stimm pill from my satchel and swallowed it. Maybe I was just tired and needed to clear my head. I started repeating my earlier unanswered questions to Ganvan, more to break his monologue than anything else, and he answered them immediately and to my satisfaction, though again I couldn't profess to having any real capacity of clear thought at this time. Ganvan gave me a short tour of the facilities, speaking at length about what had been accomplished in Endomaw. The Stimms had perked me up enough that I was at least able to make notes based upon his words and I trusted that they would make sense to me later when it came to preparing my report. After a few hours I was fatigued and requested that the day's activities ended and I be allowed to return to my guest quarters to absorb and compile the data I had captured and more importantly rest. Lek and Jerrod accompanied me and I barely noticed their taciturn silence on the ascent so tired was I, failing to get any understanding of the labyrinthine subterranean complex . As we approached the room I was occupying I noticed them suddenly talking but couldn't make out their conversation as they were a good few metres ahead of me. I had no idea of the route back to my room so was allowing them to lead me, though I must confess I was actually ruminating on the days events rather than focusing on navigation.
Returning to my room I removed the heavy and now dusty mining suit with some difficulty and locked the door, once again bolting the door as well as an afterthought. I spent a few hours or so working on my notes and recording observations and submitting a short Vid-report to Narthley before sleep took me into its comforting embrace.
My dreams were most discomforting though, as my unconscious mind attempted to sort and process the days experiences. Twisted dream logic aside, the sequence of events were largely accurate (reality contains less bubbles and spiders). As I descended down to the mine in the cage I could hear guttural snarls and sibilant hisses behind me, getting closer and closer. I leaned over the rail looking into the darkness below and recoiled as yellow tentacles rose from the depths, undulating and writhing as they reached for me. I stepped back, but suddenly Lek and Jerrod were either side of me gripping me firmly by the arms prohibiting my retreat. I struggled as the tentacles approached but could not move in their vice like grip. The tentacles reached my face as Lek urged me not to resist. Within seconds my head was enveloped and I was suddenly pulled over the railings my captors released me. Falling down into the depths, my scream was muffled by the oily grip of the yellow tentacles as I was dragged into the darkness.
I awoke with a start, sweat pouring from my body despite the relative coolness of the immediate environs. All was still, silent. No. There was something, a quiet shuffling and scraping. I strained my ears to pick out more but struggled with the competition from my hammering heart. Then I felt the cold all too well as the door handle scraped and turned and the door was tried. There was some muttering and then I heard the shuffling and scraping recede until it passed the reach of my hearing. I listened for a while but heard nothing else before sleep once again overtook me and I fell into a thankfully dreamless slumber for the few hours I had till first rise.
The recording ended once again, and Carn opened his eyes. Though far more detailed the logs were proving less insightful than he had hoped. That there was something untoward was clear but the only one that could provide the information he needed was locked in an asylum and far, far beyond any use. He rubbed his face and reached for the bottle of Skee on his table before remembering it was empty. Damn. Perhaps some still remained in his hip flask. Just as he got up to rifle through his overcoat's pockets he noticed the wall comm flashing red. He didn't remember muting the chime but it was easily enough done and he'd probably done it without thinking. The insistent red pulse continued and he walked over to it, shaking the worst of his fugue off before hitting the acknowledgement rune.
"Yeah, who is it?" His throat was dry, his voice hoarse, Throne, but he could use a drink! Besides, he knew who it was going to be. Exactly who he didn't want it to be...
"Carn? Where the hell have you been, do you have any idea for how long I've been trying to contact you? What are you playing at? Throne, you'd better get your arse in gear, I've been voxing you for hours!"
The words came in a torrent, Ralscon's reedy yet bellicose tone bleeding into Carns ears, far more than he could take, especially in his current state. He only heard half of his supervisor's rant, tuning out the rest as white noise. He blearily interrupted Ralscon with an irritable growl.
"Ralscon, in the Holy Emperor's name, what do you want? It's late and i'm tired. It can't be that important"
"Oh? How would you know Carn? I'm surprised you are aware of anything at the bottom of that bottle of Skee. Now shut up and listen. It's Endomaw. They've started responding to our communications, said they've had technological problems which they've now sorted. I though YOU should know this as it might help you with your half arsed investigation. Emperor knows why I bother though."
Carn's eyes widened as the salient information from Ralscon's diatribe filtered into his brain. This was the last thing he had expected. He shut Ralscon off with a terse thanks, advising he was coming back into the administratum, He fumbled for his flask, feeling the cool metal at his fingertips. He pulled it out and was gratified that it seemed at least half full. He allowed himself but the faintest of sips though. He needed his head clear and he would also need to save what was left for later. There was one other place that he could get the answers he needed and he could return Larkarsky's charm at the same time by stopping at the Asylum. Besides, he was almost out of logs and definitely out of options. There was nothing else for it, he was going to have to go to Endomaw.
Chapter V: SCREAMS IN THE NIGHT
Once again, Carn found himself in front of the door of Larkarsky's cell in the labyrinthine Hyrk Asylum for the Demented and Insane. Wordlessly the same Doctor as before, Speltz! That was her name! unlocked the door and opened it, stepping back and fading ethereally into the darkness. Carn stepped forward into the Adept's chamber, pulling the Aquilla from his pocket and holding it in front of him. Even though he could barely see the crouched muttering figure of the Adept ahead of him in the gloom the Aquila glinted and shone as if light were falling upon it. Carn also fancied that he heard a faint keening from the dangling charm but that was impossible.
Or prehaps not, for Larkarsky's head snapped up instantly. He stood, cocking his head like a bird and advanced on Carn, emerging from the gloom. Carn stepped back but the door had closed behind him. He wanted to turn but couldn't take his eyes off of Larkarsky, stepping jerkily toward him with his arm outstretched like some kind of undead horror. He backed up against the door holding the Aquila charm ahead of him like an offering whilst steeling himself to defend against any attack.
Instead, Larkarsky stopped just in front of Carn. His eyeless sockets glowed like burning embers, and he straightened, regarding the pinned Prefect. He reached for the dangling charm, still shining in Carn's grip but instead of taking it, pushed it back towards Carn's chest.
"Keep it Alistae, you will need it more than I." Larkarsy's voice resonated in Carn's skull, permeating his very mind and echoing through his brain. "Much work lies ahead of you, you must discover the truth, the truth of the Yellow King." He smiled beatifically, stepping back and dipping his head before raising it again. The embers blazed with new fury.
"They are coming, I can feel them, in my head, in my soul. They scratch and scream and writhe." His mouth approximated sorrow. "I was too weak, Emperor forgive me. I was too weak at the time. Now I am more prepared. Yet, even now, my time grows short. I wish I could tell you more, but they are listening, they have been since the start. They are in my head you know, did I mention that?" He tapped his temple for emphasis.
Carn, could do little more than nod dumbly, he gripped the chain tightly, his knuckles white as Larkarsky continued;
"I have faith in you Alistae, I know you will succeed. You are looking in the right place, the answer is there. I believe you will find the answer before you reach Endomaw, I was so close, too close. I have left clues in my logs, find them. Find them and save us all. You MUST uncover the truth about the Yellow King! I have faith in you," he repeated. "I know you will succeed, the Emperor Protects, Alistae. He protects us all."
Carn nodded again, he tried to say something but could not form the words. Why could he not speak? This all seemed so unreal.
Larkarsy turned his head abruptly, sensing something. "We are out of time Alistae, I knew it would not take long, but I had to take the risk, you understand?" Carn didn't but Larkarsky continued regardless; "It is up to you now, this task falls to you, and with that, I am free. Thank you Alistae, thank you for coming back for me, may the Emperor watch over you." The beatific smile returned and suddenly there was a knife in his hand. He drew it across his throat sharply. The light in his eye sockets went out.
Carn flinched, but instead of the gush of bright arterial blood there was nothing, just a yawning expanse as Larkarsky's head tilted back. He was still smiling. Carn stared in revulsion as yellow writhing tentacles emerged from the ruin of his neck, expanding and writhing and reaching. Now Carn found a voice, and that voice was a scream.
He was still screaming when he awoke. He was reclining in a comfortable chair on the shuttle. A glass rested on its side on the table from where he had upset it when he started. The remnants of its contents trickled onto the floor via Carn's leg. Carn ignored it, it was the cheap synthesised stuff anyway. The dreams were getting worse. There was no denying it. Always the yellow tentacles, not only in his dreams either. The nightmarish images were infiltrating his waking thoughts too. It was getting stronger the closer he got to Endowmaw. He pulled the compact Autopistol from his chest holster and checked that it was fully loaded. It was a high powered custom model, packing more stopping power than a standard issue Autopistol at the cost of a slower firing rate. In actuality, it was more like a mini bolt pistol than anything else, finished in a brushed dark gunmetal with crimson finials and etched grip. Like all good guns it had a name and this was etched along the casing; Furore Imperatoris: Emperor's Fury. It was a good solid gun and it had been a long time since it had been fired.
Carn had retrieved it from his desk drawer upon his return to the administratum building. Deftly avoiding Ralscon, (though he had left a conciliatory message updating his earlier report) he had feverishly grabbed as many supplies as he could, casting furtive glances at the shadows. He had then booked a transport shuttle and left, charting a route via Hyrk to Endomaw. Now he was no more than an hour from the Asylum and as the monotonous tones of the cybernetic pilot confirmed this fact he sat up and reached for the satchel at the side of his seat.
It had seemed so REAL, more so than any other dream. His head still swam and he was dizzy and disorientated. He also had a headache, a pounding pressure in his skull that made him wince. Worse still, he could feel something trickling from his nose and wiping his hand across the liquid saw it was a deep crimson. That couldn't be good. Shakily he withdrew the dataslates from the satchel. He'd already reviewed the final log. It had contained nothing of note, just more of Larkarsky's exhaustively detailed prose and further meetings with Ganvan Seris which had left the Adept even more unsettled than before. His final audio log had similarly suggested little more than a more defined unease, though he would not specify the source of it. He'd ended the vidlog with a comment that something was very wrong in Endowmaw and that he should write a book about it some day. A somewhat more sardonic comment than Carn had expected to be honest. He put this down to Larkarsky's state of mind. The man was clearly extremely disturbed and agitated, his anxiety was clear to see
Even so, there was no denying that there was something he was missing. Perhaps his dream was his subconscious telling him this, he had certainly been rattled of late. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. There was so much still to do, so many mysteries still to be solved. He went back over his notes and the latest few logs, both written and video. However, despite analysing each passage and even going over the videos frame by frame he still could discern or glean no further information. He went as far as to watch one of them backwards in the hope of uncovering a hidden message even as he chided himself for being so naïve. Nothing.
He sighed and abandoned his studying as he noticed the drone of the engines turn into a pitched whine, indicating that the shuttle was beginning its descent. Right on cue the pilot announced their imminent arrival at Hyrk. Carn hastily gathered up the dataslates, stuffing them back into the satchel before fastening it. He just about had time to tidy himself up a little before the shuttle landed and he swiftly chartered a ground transport to take him to the Asylum. He became lost in thought as the coach proceeded up the rickety darkened path the the asylum, recalling his bizarre dream and Larkarsky's words. He was suddenly jolted from his reverie as the coach ground to a halt at his destination. He hadn't noticed that it had started raining and he was quite soaked by the time he reached the large door. His approach had not gone unnoticed however and he was greeted before he had a chance to knock. He smiled to hide the unease he felt when he saw who was behind the door.
"Doctor Speltz, good evening" he nodded, and was rewarded with a flash of a return smile as he was ushered in by the aged psychiatrist. The door eased to a close behind him and he stood in a small puddle as the rainwater dripped off of his overcoat onto the tiled floor. He removed it, grateful for the sudden reduction in weight, and hung it carefully on a nearby rack while grasping the satchel in his other hand. He ran his hand through his wet hair and gratefully accepted the towel that Speltz proffered. Drying himself he followed the Doctor as she headed for Larkarsky's cell with purpose and swift steps despite her hunched posture. Carn hurried to catch up, tossing the damp towel onto a nearby gurney. He left a trail of droplets as he walked, his boots squelching slightly in time with his hurried footsteps.
"So how goes your investigation, Prefect?" she asked without looking back, "and what brings you back here? Surely you don't think you'll be able to get anything more from Mr Larkarsky?" Her voice echoed slightly, they were not yet deep enough into the asylum to hear anything of the inmates.
Carn waited till he had closed the distance to a couple of foot before answering, "Indeed no Doctor, I am actually here on a personal errand. A mission of conscience if you will. My visit will not last long I assure you. I have urgent business in Endomaw that I cannot delay for long. As with regards to my investigation I am afraid that is classified. All I can say is it is proceeding. Endomaw is the next step. I can tell you no more." He paused as they negotiated a winding set of steps. "How has Larkarsky been?"
"Calmer," she admitted, "I would hesitate to say improved, he is still mostly non responsive, withdrawn, but I have noticed a stillness about him that we have not observed before. I find it unlikely that he will ever leave. It is unfortunate but perhaps a mercy, the man inside is still very much lost." Her voice began to be drowned out by maniacal laughter, screams and wails, and nothing more was said until they got to Larkarsky's cell.
"What was it you wanted anyway?" Speltz asked as she fumbled through the heavy bundle of keys at the end of a chain attached to her waist, tutting as she sometimes missed a key in her search. Her hands shook slightly, making her task that much harder.
Carn opened the satchel and removed the Aquila charm, shaking it free of its chain and allowing it to dangle from his hand. "Just to return this" he admitted, "I felt that he should have it. I'm not sure why, it just seemed important. " He shrugged, "It's hardly going to help him, it just seemed the right thing to do." Speltz looked up as she finally located the right key, her face was sympathetic and sorrowful.
"You might be surprised", she said softly, just about audible over the background soundtrack of the hopelessly insane. "I'm sure he will appreciate it, even if he cannot express it. As I said, he has been... " her words turned to a strangled gasp as she wrenched the door open and she crashed to her knees, bringing a trembling hand to her gaping mouth.
Wordlessly, Carn stepped past her. With careful footsteps he walked over to the body in the middle of the floor. Larkarsky was on his back, a beatific smile plastered across his features. His throat was raggedly cut, a sharp sliver of stone in his hand the obvious cause. Blood pooled around his body, sticky and deep crimson. Though sightless, his expression was one of utter contentment and peace. He actually looked happy. Suddenly the charm shone in Carn's hand, glinting strongly despite the absence of a significant light source to cause such a reflection. In the increased illumination granted by the Aquila he could see that beyond the pool surrounding Larkarsy's body something was written, something red. He stooped and held the gleaming charm over the words. A chill ran across his body as he read the message in blood.
CARN FLAVO REX VERUM
Carn, Yellow, King, Truth.
Below that was a crudely drawn Aquila, the bloody smears fading out at the wing tips. Carn stood up again and sadly regarded poor Larkarsky and his final message hastily scrawled in his own lifeblood. He fancied that he could hear a keening from the charm but as his shock faded and reality reasserted himself he realised that the noise was actually Speltz, who apparently had remembered or discovered how to scream. Carn stood there reeling, as the Doctor's despair and horror blended with the wails of the myriad patients. He recited a prayer for the dead Adept, and then turned and left the cell, passing the doctor without a glance. He leaned against a wall and stared intently at the suddenly quiescent charm as he was left with his own thoughts and screams in the night.
Chapter V: SCREAMS IN THE NIGHT
Once again, Carn found himself in front of the door of Larkarsky's cell in the labyrinthine Hyrk Asylum for the Demented and Insane. Wordlessly the same Doctor as before, Speltz! That was her name! unlocked the door and opened it, stepping back and fading ethereally into the darkness. Carn stepped forward into the Adept's chamber, pulling the Aquilla from his pocket and holding it in front of him. Even though he could barely see the crouched muttering figure of the Adept ahead of him in the gloom the Aquila glinted and shone as if light were falling upon it. Carn also fancied that he heard a faint keening from the dangling charm but that was impossible.
Or prehaps not, for Larkarsky's head snapped up instantly. He stood, cocking his head like a bird and advanced on Carn, emerging from the gloom. Carn stepped back but the door had closed behind him. He wanted to turn but couldn't take his eyes off of Larkarsky, stepping jerkily toward him with his arm outstretched like some kind of undead horror. He backed up against the door holding the Aquila charm ahead of him like an offering whilst steeling himself to defend against any attack.
Instead, Larkarsky stopped just in front of Carn. His eyeless sockets glowed like burning embers, and he straightened, regarding the pinned Prefect. He reached for the dangling charm, still shining in Carn's grip but instead of taking it, pushed it back towards Carn's chest.
"Keep it Alistae, you will need it more than I." Larkarsy's voice resonated in Carn's skull, permeating his very mind and echoing through his brain. "Much work lies ahead of you, you must discover the truth, the truth of the Yellow King." He smiled beatifically, stepping back and dipping his head before raising it again. The embers blazed with new fury.
"They are coming, I can feel them, in my head, in my soul. They scratch and scream and writhe." His mouth approximated sorrow. "I was too weak, Emperor forgive me. I was too weak at the time. Now I am more prepared. Yet, even now, my time grows short. I wish I could tell you more, but they are listening, they have been since the start. They are in my head you know, did I mention that?" He tapped his temple for emphasis.
Carn, could do little more than nod dumbly, he gripped the chain tightly, his knuckles white as Larkarsky continued;
"I have faith in you Alistae, I know you will succeed. You are looking in the right place, the answer is there. I believe you will find the answer before you reach Endomaw, I was so close, too close. I have left clues in my logs, find them. Find them and save us all. You MUST uncover the truth about the Yellow King! I have faith in you," he repeated. "I know you will succeed, the Emperor Protects, Alistae. He protects us all."
Carn nodded again, he tried to say something but could not form the words. Why could he not speak? This all seemed so unreal.
Larkarsy turned his head abruptly, sensing something. "We are out of time Alistae, I knew it would not take long, but I had to take the risk, you understand?" Carn didn't but Larkarsky continued regardless; "It is up to you now, this task falls to you, and with that, I am free. Thank you Alistae, thank you for coming back for me, may the Emperor watch over you." The beatific smile returned and suddenly there was a knife in his hand. He drew it across his throat sharply. The light in his eye sockets went out.
Carn flinched, but instead of the gush of bright arterial blood there was nothing, just a yawning expanse as Larkarsky's head tilted back. He was still smiling. Carn stared in revulsion as yellow writhing tentacles emerged from the ruin of his neck, expanding and writhing and reaching. Now Carn found a voice, and that voice was a scream.
He was still screaming when he awoke. He was reclining in a comfortable chair on the shuttle. A glass rested on its side on the table from where he had upset it when he started. The remnants of its contents trickled onto the floor via Carn's leg. Carn ignored it, it was the cheap synthesised stuff anyway. The dreams were getting worse. There was no denying it. Always the yellow tentacles, not only in his dreams either. The nightmarish images were infiltrating his waking thoughts too. It was getting stronger the closer he got to Endowmaw. He pulled the compact Autopistol from his chest holster and checked that it was fully loaded. It was a high powered custom model, packing more stopping power than a standard issue Autopistol at the cost of a slower firing rate. In actuality, it was more like a mini bolt pistol than anything else, finished in a brushed dark gunmetal with crimson finials and etched grip. Like all good guns it had a name and this was etched along the casing; Furore Imperatoris: Emperor's Fury. It was a good solid gun and it had been a long time since it had been fired.
Carn had retrieved it from his desk drawer upon his return to the administratum building. Deftly avoiding Ralscon, (though he had left a conciliatory message updating his earlier report) he had feverishly grabbed as many supplies as he could, casting furtive glances at the shadows. He had then booked a transport shuttle and left, charting a route via Hyrk to Endomaw. Now he was no more than an hour from the Asylum and as the monotonous tones of the cybernetic pilot confirmed this fact he sat up and reached for the satchel at the side of his seat.
It had seemed so REAL, more so than any other dream. His head still swam and he was dizzy and disorientated. He also had a headache, a pounding pressure in his skull that made him wince. Worse still, he could feel something trickling from his nose and wiping his hand across the liquid saw it was a deep crimson. That couldn't be good. Shakily he withdrew the dataslates from the satchel. He'd already reviewed the final log. It had contained nothing of note, just more of Larkarsky's exhaustively detailed prose and further meetings with Ganvan Seris which had left the Adept even more unsettled than before. His final audio log had similarly suggested little more than a more defined unease, though he would not specify the source of it. He'd ended the vidlog with a comment that something was very wrong in Endowmaw and that he should write a book about it some day. A somewhat more sardonic comment than Carn had expected to be honest. He put this down to Larkarsky's state of mind. The man was clearly extremely disturbed and agitated, his anxiety was clear to see
Even so, there was no denying that there was something he was missing. Perhaps his dream was his subconscious telling him this, he had certainly been rattled of late. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. There was so much still to do, so many mysteries still to be solved. He went back over his notes and the latest few logs, both written and video. However, despite analysing each passage and even going over the videos frame by frame he still could discern or glean no further information. He went as far as to watch one of them backwards in the hope of uncovering a hidden message even as he chided himself for being so naïve. Nothing.
He sighed and abandoned his studying as he noticed the drone of the engines turn into a pitched whine, indicating that the shuttle was beginning its descent. Right on cue the pilot announced their imminent arrival at Hyrk. Carn hastily gathered up the dataslates, stuffing them back into the satchel before fastening it. He just about had time to tidy himself up a little before the shuttle landed and he swiftly chartered a ground transport to take him to the Asylum. He became lost in thought as the coach proceeded up the rickety darkened path the the asylum, recalling his bizarre dream and Larkarsky's words. He was suddenly jolted from his reverie as the coach ground to a halt at his destination. He hadn't noticed that it had started raining and he was quite soaked by the time he reached the large door. His approach had not gone unnoticed however and he was greeted before he had a chance to knock. He smiled to hide the unease he felt when he saw who was behind the door.
"Doctor Speltz, good evening" he nodded, and was rewarded with a flash of a return smile as he was ushered in by the aged psychiatrist. The door eased to a close behind him and he stood in a small puddle as the rainwater dripped off of his overcoat onto the tiled floor. He removed it, grateful for the sudden reduction in weight, and hung it carefully on a nearby rack while grasping the satchel in his other hand. He ran his hand through his wet hair and gratefully accepted the towel that Speltz proffered. Drying himself he followed the Doctor as she headed for Larkarsky's cell with purpose and swift steps despite her hunched posture. Carn hurried to catch up, tossing the damp towel onto a nearby gurney. He left a trail of droplets as he walked, his boots squelching slightly in time with his hurried footsteps.
"So how goes your investigation, Prefect?" she asked without looking back, "and what brings you back here? Surely you don't think you'll be able to get anything more from Mr Larkarsky?" Her voice echoed slightly, they were not yet deep enough into the asylum to hear anything of the inmates.
Carn waited till he had closed the distance to a couple of foot before answering, "Indeed no Doctor, I am actually here on a personal errand. A mission of conscience if you will. My visit will not last long I assure you. I have urgent business in Endomaw that I cannot delay for long. As with regards to my investigation I am afraid that is classified. All I can say is it is proceeding. Endomaw is the next step. I can tell you no more." He paused as they negotiated a winding set of steps. "How has Larkarsky been?"
"Calmer," she admitted, "I would hesitate to say improved, he is still mostly non responsive, withdrawn, but I have noticed a stillness about him that we have not observed before. I find it unlikely that he will ever leave. It is unfortunate but perhaps a mercy, the man inside is still very much lost." Her voice began to be drowned out by maniacal laughter, screams and wails, and nothing more was said until they got to Larkarsky's cell.
"What was it you wanted anyway?" Speltz asked as she fumbled through the heavy bundle of keys at the end of a chain attached to her waist, tutting as she sometimes missed a key in her search. Her hands shook slightly, making her task that much harder.
Carn opened the satchel and removed the Aquila charm, shaking it free of its chain and allowing it to dangle from his hand. "Just to return this" he admitted, "I felt that he should have it. I'm not sure why, it just seemed important. " He shrugged, "It's hardly going to help him, it just seemed the right thing to do." Speltz looked up as she finally located the right key, her face was sympathetic and sorrowful.
"You might be surprised", she said softly, just about audible over the background soundtrack of the hopelessly insane. "I'm sure he will appreciate it, even if he cannot express it. As I said, he has been... " her words turned to a strangled gasp as she wrenched the door open and she crashed to her knees, bringing a trembling hand to her gaping mouth.
Wordlessly, Carn stepped past her. With careful footsteps he walked over to the body in the middle of the floor. Larkarsky was on his back, a beatific smile plastered across his features. His throat was raggedly cut, a sharp sliver of stone in his hand the obvious cause. Blood pooled around his body, sticky and deep crimson. Though sightless, his expression was one of utter contentment and peace. He actually looked happy. Suddenly the charm shone in Carn's hand, glinting strongly despite the absence of a significant light source to cause such a reflection. In the increased illumination granted by the Aquila he could see that beyond the pool surrounding Larkarsy's body something was written, something red. He stooped and held the gleaming charm over the words. A chill ran across his body as he read the message in blood.
CARN FLAVO REX VERUM
Carn, Yellow, King, Truth.
Below that was a crudely drawn Aquila, the bloody smears fading out at the wing tips. Carn stood up again and sadly regarded poor Larkarsky and his final message hastily scrawled in his own lifeblood. He fancied that he could hear a keening from the charm but as his shock faded and reality reasserted himself he realised that the noise was actually Speltz, who apparently had remembered or discovered how to scream. Carn stood there reeling, as the Doctor's despair and horror blended with the wails of the myriad patients. He recited a prayer for the dead Adept, and then turned and left the cell, passing the doctor without a glance. He leaned against a wall and stared intently at the suddenly quiescent charm as he was left with his own thoughts and screams in the night.
Carn nudged the mug of Recaff in front of him, it was still warm, though barely. He contemplated drinking the beverage but he had no taste for it and frankly he just wanted to leave Hyrk as soon as possible. He had been delayed quite enough already.
There had been questions, of course there had been questions. He had endured them, the endless repetition and mind numbing monotony of standard enquiries around poor Larkarsky's demise. Carn had informed them that he had no idea why Larkarsky had done what he had, and that he had no contact with the Adept apart from his previous, documented visit. The thing is, he was lying.
Of course he couldn't tell them the truth, they would have detained him even longer and he needed to journey to Endomaw as soon as possible as per Larkarsky's message. For one thing had become abundantly clear to Alistae Carn, over the last day. He might have feigned ignorance, pretended that he knew little to nothing about the events in question, that he was nothing more than a witness to the tragic aftermath of Larkarsky's untimely death, but he knew the reality that lay beyond the veil he hid behind. Larkarsky had been a Psyker.
Not just any Psyker either, to send a message such as Larkarsky had done, (for Carn firmly believed this is what had happened) he must have had no small degree of power and control. However, something much more potent had been hunting him and he had finally been bought low. But not before managing to contact Carn through his subconsciousness. Carn had ruminated over the experience while nodding with a blank expression to the continued probing. Though he maintained his facade of ignorance his professional mind was racing and analysing all of the information at hand. To tell of Larkarsky's true nature would only complicate matters, especially here. Such revelations were not likely to be well received in such a place.
A weary Doctor Speltz appeared from a door on the left, fresh from her own interview, and sat down opposite Carn.
"Hell of a night," she offered.
Carn just grunted, he couldn't disagree, even if he was sticking to his policy of noncommittal ambivalent interaction.
You drinking that? Speltz asked. She indicated the full cup of recaff, with a hopeful expression. Carn pushed it toward her and she accepted it gratefully, draining it quickly and letting out a satisfied sigh while visibly sinking into the chair.
"I've seen some things," she confessed. "when you have been doing this as long as I have it's inevitable, but I tell you, tonight is beyond my experience. Words in blood, that smile, not in 40 years have I seen anything quite like it. I'll not forget this night in a hurry and Emperor preserve me, I hope I never have to see anything like it again.
He was fine the last time I checked you know, only a couple of hours before," she continued when no response was forthcoming from across the table. "Sitting there as usual, muttering. What could have happened within such a short space of time to drive him to do what he did? Don't think it escaped my notice that you happened to turn up around the same time, with that charm. What is it? I heard that noise you know, that strange sound coming from it, I know I didn't imagine it." Her words were coming faster and faster now as the recaff hit her system and did it's work. Her eyes blazed.
"There is something you aren't telling me, something about this whole situation that you are keeping to yourself. I can feel it, you KNOW something." She slammed a fist into the table with as much force as her aged frame could muster. "Tell me you bastard! what are you hiding?" Her voice rose in pitch, becoming strained and shrill. The guards over at the door looked over suspiciously and Carn reached out and grabbed her arm in an effort to silence her. Their eyes met.
"Trust me Doctor, when I say you are better off not knowing." Carn reached out with his other hand and placed it on top of the one holding onto the Doctors arm, turning an aggressive and restricting gesture into a comforting one. "I mean it," he added earnestly, "I could easily just say it is classified but in actuality I am sparing you by not telling you. Suffice to say, it is my burden and mine alone, the reason for me coming here is now clearly null and void and it is time for me to leave. I shall say no more." He looked at her earnestly, "You may voice your suspicions if you so desire but time is of the essence and I have much to do. I swear in the Holy Emperor's name that my motivations and aims are pure. I would ask you not to cause me any further delay. I do the Emperor's work and have tarried long enough." He released the Doctor's arm and sat back, clearly indicating she was free to act. He saw indecision and suspicion war in her eyes for a moment before she made her choice.
"Fine", she snapped. "I dont care, like I said, i've seen enough shit. Go, walk away and get on with whatever you think it is you have to do". the chair slid back with a screech on the tiled floor as she got up and stalked off to speak to some orderlies clustered in a corner.
"Thank you," Carn breathed, though he wasn't sure who he was thanking. He thumbed the Aquila in his pocket, it felt warm, comforting. "Thank you."
*
"Useless," he muttered, casting the papers down on top of the dataslate. He reconsidered his abstinence, frustrated beyond belief. No, he needed to stay focused. He cast his eyes to the ceiling of the transport and exhaled deeply. A prayer to the Emperor came to mind and he closed his eyes and recited it reverently. Upon completion of the benediction he opened his eyes, calmed and centred. He looked down at the dataslates and his jaw dropped. He rubbed his eyes, not quite able to believe what he was seeing. No, it was, it had to be, there was no other possibility.
Through chance or divine intervention the papers had fallen across the activated dataslate in a way that showed exactly the first digit from each entry, what had seemed a nonsensical series of numbers and letters was suddenly revealed to be a sequence and a word.
619519 - HEART
There was no chance this was a coincidence, this had to be what Larkarsky had been referring to, but what did it mean? He wracked his memory. He had to be missing something, something that he had seen but had not grasped the significance of, but what? Time was ticking down and he was only getting closer to Endomaw, it was important that he got to the truth before he landed, he could feel it. The analytical part of his mind worked overtime as he tackled the puzzle.
"619519 - HEART, 619519 - HEART" he repeated to himself, as if each repetition would bring him closer to the solution. "Dammit Larkarsky, why did you have to be so obtuse?" even as he said the words, he knew the answer. Larkarsky had been paranoid, and with good reason, he had been compelled to hide the information as deep as possible in order to keep it from the wrong hands. Now it was up to Carn to find the answer. 619519 HEART... what did it MEAN?
Before long, the strain of analysis overtook him and he fell into a restless slumber. Inevitably thoughts of Larkarsky infiltrated his dream. A kaleidoscopic array of images and sequences rushing through his subconsciousness too fast to decipher. Too much, too much, a tidal wave of information that he could not hope to process. The bombardment continued as his unconscious mind attempted to compartmentalise and filter the information. Then abruptly it ceased and Larkarsky's face appeared in the darkness...
Alistae....Alistae....he taunted, his voice ethereal and lilting. Carn struck out in his dream, thrashing through Larkarsky's face which dissipated like mist, fading into the darkness and leaving only his voice....
"I thought I might write a book about this one day...."
Carn snapped awake as if he had been shaken roughly. His mind was crystal clear. He checked his chronometer, 16 minutes till arrival at Endomaw. He must have slept through the pilot's announcements, he had little time left. 'I thought I might write a book about this one day,' could it really be that simple? He rummaged around in the satchel by his feet, pulling out the other dataslate, the one full of literature. Was it pure luck that he had bought it with him? Or something else? He put such ruminations from his mind and powered up the slate. He scrolled through the meticulously organised entries, his excitement growing as he noted the filing format matched the code hidden in the indexing on the other slate. After accessing various subfolders and files he found the match. 6.195.19. Heart of the Imperium by Maximillian Vos Brynd. He stopped a moment, heart pounding as anticipation filled him, and then thumbed the access key...
Suddenly the dataslate was wrenched out of his hand as the transport was violently hurled to one side with a deafening boom. A second followed scant moments later and Carn was launched from his seat as the shuttle lurched crazily. An alarm began to blare and red lights flashed as yet another explosion rocked the craft. A sudden loss in altitude resulted in a moment of weightlessness and he saw the dataslate lift for a moment in front of him, the text tantalisingly illegible to his blurred eyes. Then the moment passed and he crashed to the floor painfully as the shuttle plummeted in an uncontrolled spiralling dive. He groggily crawled toward the comms panel on a nearby wall, calling up the pilot's recorded log. The pilot itself showed as uncontactable, so either it had been irreparably damaged or was fully devoted to the preservation of the shuttle. Slaved into the craft's systems it could quite easily be either. Carn scanned the entries, noting with gratitude the exceptional evasive maneuvers that the pilot had performed to escape certain death. And the cause of the pilot's endeavours? A missile lock, from Endomaw. So that's how it was to be, he thought. He didn't have time to think much else, a shrill tone indicated that the altitude was bottoming out and he barely had time to grab both the dataslate and the Aquila in his pocket before the shuttle hit the ground and tore itself apart in a storm of twisted metal.
*
"An accident", Pascal Ralscon repeated as the screen flashed off and his dulled reflection stared back at him expressionlessly. The Endomaw Chief Administrator Geriok had been abject in his contrition, explaining that a guidance malfunction on the defence system had resulted in Prefect Carn's shuttle being erroneously targeted and destroyed. There were no survivors. Throne's sake, this was the last thing he needed. The resulting administration alone would be a nightmare, to say nothing of sending additional investigators to follow up on Carn's vague suspicions. Frankly it was becoming more hassle than it was worth. Larkarsky had gone out there, something had happened and he had gone crazy, big deal. Carn? No big loss there, the man was an insufferable drunken arse, he'd not be missed. Ralscon could comfortably draw a nice thick line of finality under the whole thing and not have to think about it again. Yeah he could investigate further but he had no desire to, no one was going to thank him for it anyway, and he didn't want any plaudits in any case. He had no aspirations, no ambitions and no interest in doing anything more than he had to, his mid level bureaucratic existence would do him just fine.
"Screw it", he muttered and put all of Carn's materiel and reports into a file, a quick jab of a button and it would no longer be his problem. He prepared a cursory report and sent it off to his superiors on Celias IV. It was someone else's responsibility now, good riddance. As it was he had to fill Carn's position and he hadn't even got a replacement for Larkarsky yet. Shit, he should have added the personnel requisition request to his report, now he would have to send another. His mood soured even further, if there was one thing that he hated it was unnecessary work. Day ruined, and it was all Carn's fault. He was glad the bastard was dead.
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