‘Speak the truth. Flattery compromises logic,’ said Kubik.
‘I will say nothing against him,’ said Laurentis. ‘He is, in common parlance, a hero. After my transformation, he threatened Magos Urquidex with violence should additional damaging circumstance befall me.’
‘And why is this remarkable?’ asked Kubik. ‘The primary purpose of the Adeptus Astartes is to safeguard and promote the persistence of the human race. They are made to be that way, as predictable as the energy output of a lasgun.’
‘It is possible he was following his indoctrinative programming,’ conceded Laurentis. ‘But I believe he genuinely wished to help me personally.’
‘Intriguing. An altruist. An uncertain modifier to my calculations.’
‘There is more. He was also… sad,’ said Laurentis, as if struggling to recall what the word meant.
‘And you, Urquidex? State your initial observations and hypothetical deductions.’
‘He was most persuasive,’ said Urquidex unctuously. ‘Unafraid to offer violence to further his aims.’ Urquidex remembered being slammed into a wall. Most unpleasant. ‘I found him driven. He will not be easily controlled.’
Kubik’s subsidiary vocalisers made a dry clacking laugh. His primary voice remained thoughtful and cold. ‘Do not second-guess my intentions, Urquidex.’
‘I only think on the progress of the Grand Experiment, and how the arrival of the Last Wall will affect that progress,’ said Urquidex.
‘You and I are not dissimilar,’ said Kubik. ‘We are both biologians, even if our specialisations differ. Our creed is a self-evident truth — to abandon humanity entirely is a self-defeating exercise. Logic is a tool best utilised by a thinking, feeling organism, not an end unto itself. The end is knowledge, not logic as some of our brethren believe. Logic gives us a framework to understanding, but it does not provide insight. Without insight I could never have become Fabricator General nor could I survive the political processes of the Senatorum Imperialis. Logic is not the only mode of thought necessary to true communion with the Omnissiah. The flesh is weak, but the machine on its own is weak also.
‘Let the cults of expunging strip away their humanity and decry us as modus unbecoming. We must never forget the even split upon the Omnissiah’s own sigil, skull and cybernetic. A sentiment the magi of the Ordo Biologis can only agree with, is that not so, Laurentis? Before your unfortunate wounding, you had few augmentations.’
‘A choice I made to remain better attuned to subtleties of biology, Fabricator General,’ said Laurentis. ‘I have lost so much to the orks. I see more clearly now, but what was taken from me was not given willingly. I cannot imagine giving up so much of gross human feeling as a conscious act. What little emotion remains is coloured throughout with regret.’
‘Your skills as a dialogian remain. Do you still possess the necessary knowledge and mental subroutines to act as an effective translator?’
‘I remain first and foremost of the xenology sub-order,’ said Laurentis. ‘Linguistic expression is a part of my ability, not the whole.’
‘Nevertheless, it is your linguistic ability I enquire after,’ said Kubik. Upbraiding so heavily cybernised an adept as Laurentis for pedantry was pointless.
‘My linguistic skills are two-point-three-four per cent more efficient than they were,’ said Laurentis. ‘What I have lost in instinctive appreciation for the modes of speech, I have gained in rapid pattern recognition.’
Kubik swept around the magi again. ‘Then you are to report after this meeting to Artisan Trajectorae Augus Van Auken at Pavonis Mons. There is a new project of grave importance being undertaken, vital to the war effort and to the success of the Grand Experiment. The full suite of your abilities are necessary. I have been forced by this Koorland into committing a portion of the armies of Mars to the attack on the ork moon. No matter. It shall afford us the opportunity to acquire new materials for study, and a great number of experimental subjects for Van Auken’s undertaking.’
Urquidex’s logic streams shivered with misgiving at this revelation of a new experiment. His implants seized upon the statement and trapped it in data crystals embedded in his thorax for later parsing. His initial hypothesis suggested something bad.
‘Perhaps my abilities might also be useful, my lord?’ said Urquidex. ‘I too have experience with Veridi giganticus.’
‘You are to remain upon the Grand Experiment. Your investigations into the effects of the ork teleportation technology upon biomatter are invaluable.’
‘Yes, my lord,’ said Urquidex.
‘We must be careful,’ said the Fabricator General. ‘The feuding of factions within the High Lords leaves us with no choice but to consider the ultimate divorce of our interests. There are those that suspect and work against us. Guard yourselves against them.’
A poor-quality hololith engaged, projecting a bubble of light that resolved itself into a live pict feed. In a grainy aerial view dogged by frequent cutouts and signal dispersion a woman was making her way across red sands, a breathing mask supplementing the thin Martian air.
‘This individual is not as she appears,’ said Kubik. ‘The diagnostic covens came across erroneous data-transfer protocols. Her code signum proved to be falsified.’
‘Who is she?’ asked Urquidex.
‘She is an operative of the Officio Assassinorum. I have been watching her for some time. Vangorich’s killers are elusive, but not invisible. We observe her from a high altitude aether-drone, and she knows nothing of it.’
The woman made her way across a landscape cluttered with ancient fragments of broken machinery. The view swung around. The hive factories of Tharsis piled themselves up behind her.
‘Sicarian assassin clade 950-Alpha-Xi, execute target,’ commanded Kubik.
The woman stopped, alert to peril not yet visible to the magi watching the pict feed. She cast away her red robe, revealing a close-fitting combat suit and a pair of bulky pistols strapped one to each thigh. She drew them both, aimed them in opposite directions, and opened fire. The action proceeded without sound. She ran, arms outstretched and rock steady, guns blazing. Her head flicked back and forth, identifying new targets, her guns ready to follow. Urquidex was certain every shot was a kill.
‘Assassins are skilled, but she is one, and we are many,’ said Kubik.
An assassination clade of Sicarian ruststalkers skittered into the pict field, over twenty of them, converging on the Assassin from all sides, their long legs nimbly picking their way over the rough ground. Always seemingly on the verge of toppling over, their darting movements instead propelled them towards their target with staccato purpose, blade limbs held out to impale and slice. The Assassin upped her fire rate. Sicarians dropped, their breached pressurised armour shooting out streams of gas, spindly augmetic limbs folding in on themselves. They came closer and closer, unconcerned with their own deaths, determined only on hers. The Assassin halted, still firing, but she was surrounded and could not escape.
The Sicarians pounced on her. With a flurry of cybernetic limbs, it was done. The Assassin lay dead on the ground.
The pict view abruptly veered as the aether-drone sped away on some new task. The sky filled the image, before fizzling out.
‘So end those who would profane the holy grounds of Mars,’ said Kubik. His chair swivelled back and rose up high so that he could look down on the magi. ‘You two have proved yourselves to me. This will be but one of a cell. We must redouble our vigilance. Spies are everywhere. We will not be thwarted so close to success.’
Urquidex struggled to control his telescopic eyes. The left developed a tic, the lens minutely focusing and refocusing. He knew very well there were more of them. He was in regular contact with one.