‘Quite right,’ said Sloman.
‘Here’s an idea,’ said Blenner, his voice still low. ‘Why don’t we do this inspection once I’ve had everybody checked? Give them a fighting chance to turn out properly on a first show. I mean, come on, between us, they’re not going to get a fighting chance to do anything much more impressive, are they?’
Sloman laughed. Baskevyl tried not to.
‘That’s good policy, I think,’ said Edur solemnly. ‘This time tomorrow, maybe?’
They went back the way they’d come.
Blenner stepped into the cabin. He breathed deeply, and quickly necked one of Dorden’s pills. Perday had done a good job of washing the deck. She was bagging the shirt she’d used for laundry.
‘You’re a kind man, sir,’ she said. ‘You said you were fair and you clearly mean it. Others would have hung the captain out for this.’
‘Don’t tell me that,’ said Blenner. He pointed at Wilder. ‘Tell him that when he wakes up tomorrow morning.’
‘The shipmaster seems reliable?’ asked Lord Militant Cybon. ‘This Spika? He was the Navy’s choice.’
‘He seemed agreeable enough,’ said Gaunt. ‘Sanguine.’
Cybon nodded.
‘Amasec?’
‘I’ll take a small one, sir.’
Cybon’s staterooms were some of the most comfortable passenger apartments on the Armaduke. Gaunt believed a senior helm officer had been rehoused to accommodate the lord militant for the voyage. Gaunt had opted for a standard officer’s quarters of the lower deck beside the other Tanith seniors.
‘Should I have seen him? He knows I’m aboard,’ said Cybon as his aide marched off to get some amasec. The lord militant eased his augmetic frame down into a reclining flight throne. The chamber’s desk was alive with hololithic displays. Cybon liked his information fresh and frequently renewed.
‘I think I made the right noises,’ said Gaunt, taking the small amasec that the aide offered him. The glass was from the lord militant’s own travelling case. There was a small rook crest etched on the crystal.
‘He knows you’re aboard, but it’s not general news,’ Gaunt went on. ‘And you’ll be leaving us when we rendezvous with the fleet at Tavis Sun. So Spika needs to get used to me being the voice of authority.’
Cybon nodded and sipped his amasec pensively.
‘You took a Space Marine with you?’
‘Eadwine. Of the Silver Guard.’
‘Sensible. That’ll put the wind up him at least.’
There was a long pause.
‘Times are changing, Gaunt,’ said Cybon. His augmetic voice was a soft rumble.
‘Sir?’
‘It’s been a long time since Balhaut. Moods change. Fortunes shift. People go in and out of favour.’
‘This has always been my experience, sir,’ Gaunt said. ‘Were you saying this in relation to anything particular?’
Cybon shrugged. Augmetics hissed. He steepled his fingers around his glass, gazing at it. ‘You and I were ascendant at the same time, Gaunt. Before Balhaut. Under Slaydo. It was a good time for us. We were connected.’
‘We were. I don’t feel I’ve been unfairly treated since.’
‘I don’t feel you have either,’ said Cybon. ‘You made your bed. You looked at the opportunities, and you decided to stay in the field. You’ve made the best of that choice. Throne knows, some part of me wishes I’d made similar choices at certain points in my career.’
‘Your career and command are enviable, sir. And it’s far from over.’
Cybon nodded.
‘If this mission goes well, Gaunt, it could mean a lot. It could mean a lot for the cause, but also for you, and for everyone who supported the effort.’
‘Which would include the Warmaster.’
‘Naturally. But I doubt he’s paid close attention to this one. Do you know how many missions he is required to scrutinise and approve every day? Across the sector? Come on. This is one raid, part of a sequence, in a corner of the Sabbat Worlds not seen as directly strategic. If it fails, it’s forgotten. If it succeeds…’
‘It could make a man’s career?’
‘It could make the careers of many men, Gaunt. It could alter the emphasis of operations. It could provoke a… an overhaul. A much needed overhaul.’
‘I see.’
Cybon wiped his lips with the back of his finger.
‘I will remember you for this, Gaunt. I will credit you where credit is needed. I hope you will do the same.’
‘Of course.’
Cybon looked at Gaunt. ‘It’s already begun, you know?’ he said.
‘Sir?’
‘Four weeks ago, unadjusted, the first attack. There have been seven more since. In the space of these six months, sidereal, twenty-eight raids will take place at selected locations across the trailing portions of the Sabbat Worlds. All of them will work according to the philosophy cooked up by you and Mercure. The tactics. The clues left. The information broadcast. Some of those transmissions are very authentic.’
‘They’re as authentic as we could make them,’ said Gaunt.
‘Twenty-eight raids,’ said Cybon. ‘It’s not even a massive commitment of men and materiel. Nothing so grand the Warmaster has to approve resourcing. The coordination, that’s the clever part. It’s smoke and mirrors.’
‘It’s mostly smoke and mirrors, sir,’ said Gaunt. ‘The effect will be very diluted if we don’t pull off this attack.’
‘Then that’s what you’d better do, isn’t it?’ said Cybon.
Meritous Felyx Chass had taken a seat in the corner of Gaunt’s quarters and was reading a data-slate. He got up when Gaunt walked in. Gaunt gestured to him to sit again.
‘Ravenor,’ said Chass, indicating the book. ‘I’ve never been particularly taken with his work.’
‘Really?’ said Gaunt.
‘He died badly, didn’t he?’
Gaunt shrugged. ‘What matters is what he did first,’ he said. He sat down at his desk. Maddalena Darebeloved was a silent presence in the far corner.
‘You can always wait outside,’ said Gaunt.
‘He doesn’t leave my sight,’ she replied.
‘I have a problem here,’ said Gaunt. ‘You tell me you’re my son. That’s both a surprise and a hindrance to a man in my particular circumstance.’
‘I don’t mean to be a–’
‘What do you mean to be?’ asked Gaunt.
‘My mother thinks it would benefit me, as a future leader of House Chass, to learn from you.’
‘Learn what? How to fight? Honour? Duty? You can learn all that from her.’
‘My mother?’
‘No, her,’ said Gaunt, pointing at the lifeguard. ‘But let’s talk about your mother for a moment. According to you, you’re her first and only son. That makes you heir to the House. Why is she risking your life like this? First sons, sometimes second sons too, they’re kept closeted in protective custody to safeguard the bloodline. Getting sent out into the Imperium is usually the fate of subsequent offspring.’
‘Verghastite philosophy is somewhat different–’ Maddalena began.
‘I wasn’t talking to you,’ said Gaunt. He was immediately annoyed with himself for snapping. He didn’t know what it was, but the lifeguard really got under his skin.
‘House Chass has always believed in experiential improvement,’ said Chass. ‘To see the Imperium, to learn about it, to learn from my father, these are all things that will benefit me when I finally take my place.’
‘Your mother has never travelled, not as far as I know.’
‘She would have,’ said Chass. ‘But she may be required to assume the House sooner than expected. My grandfather is ill.’
‘I didn’t know. I’m sorry.’