James Swallow - The Flight of the Eisenstein

'Convene the captains and brief them, but see this goes no further/ Dorn said after a moment. 'Garro, Qraze, that order includes you. Keep the Eisenstein survivors silent. I will not have this news spread through my fleet uncontrolled. I will choose when to reveal it to the Legion.'

The Astartes nodded. 'Aye, lord.'

Dorn walked away. 'You will leave me now. I must think on this matter.' He threw a last look at Sigis­mund. 'No one is to enter my chambers until I emerge/

The first captain saluted. 'If you wish my counsel, lord-'

'I do not/ The primarch left them, and after they left, Garro could not help but see the expression of deep concern on Sigismund's face as he sealed the sanctorum shut behind them.

Garro saw Keeler standing by the door and glimpsed a single tear tracing a line down her cheek. "Why do you weep?' he asked. 'Is it for us?'

Euphrati shook her head and gestured to the heavy locked hatch. 'For him, Nathaniel, because he can't. Today you and I have broken a brother's heart, and nothing will ever mend it/

Dorn's fleet readied itself for a return to the warp, and the men and women of the Eisenstein found themselves left outside the work and progress, iso­lated in temporary quarters deep inside the stone

corridors of the Phalanx. Meditation did not come so easily for Garro, and so he prowled the archways and passages of the great star fortress. Once, the Phalanx might have been a planetoid or a minor moon of some distant world, but now it was a cathedral dedi­cated to the business of war and the glories of the VII Legiones Astartes. He saw galleries of battle honours that went on for kilometres and corridors to whole sections of the fortress that duplicated the conditions of different combat environments for training pur­poses. Garro dallied in a vast chamber that replicated the Inwitian frost dunes where legend said Dorn had grown to manhood. All around him, warriors in golden armour moved with sober intent, without pause or doubt as he stepped carefully, still smooth­ing out the limp from his battle injury. He felt out of place, the marble and green of his wargear ringing a wrong note among the hornet-yellow and black trim of the Imperial Fists.

Finally, in such a way that he could almost fool himself into thinking it was happenstance, Garro found himself outside the quarters that had been granted to Euphrati Keeler.

She opened the door before he could knock. 'Hello, Nathaniel. I was preparing a little tisane. Would you like some?' Keeler left the door open and vanished back into the chamber. He sighed and followed her in. There has been no word from Lord Dorn yet?'

'None/ confirmed Garro, examining the spare space of the quarters. 'He has not left his sanctorum for a day and a night. Captain Sigismund maintains com­mand authority in the meantime.'

'The primarch has a lot to consider. We can only begin to imagine how troubled our news has made him.'

'Aye/ he admitted, taking a cup of the pungent brew from Keeler's delicate hands. He shifted, taking the weight on his augmetic. The machine limb was the least of his concerns these days.

'What of you?' she asked. 'Where has this turn of events brought you?'

'I had hoped that I might find some time to rest, to take sleep. It has been elusive, however.'

'I thought you Astartes never slept.'

A misconception. Our implants allow us to main­tain a semi-dormant state while still being aware of our surroundings' Garro sipped the infusion and found it to his taste. 'I have tried this past day, but what awaits me there is disquieting.'

'What do you see in your dreams?'

The Death Guard frowned. A battle, on a world I do not know. The landscape seems familiar but difficult to place. My brothers are there, Decius and Voyen, and Dom's warriors as well. We are fighting a creature of some loathsome aspect, a beast of disease and pestilence like the things that boarded the Eisenstein. Clouds of car­rion flies darken the air, and I feel sickened to my very core.' He looked away, dismissing it. 'It is just a mirage.'

There was a sheaf of Divinitatus tracts on her desk, and a thick candle burning on the mantle. 'I read Kaleb's papers. I think I have a better understanding of what you people believe.'

Euphrati saw where he was looking. 'The flock have been keeping to themselves since the rescue/ she explained. There haven't been any more gatherings.' She smiled. 'You said "you people", Nathaniel. Is that because you don't think you're one of us?'

'I am Astartes, servant of the Imperial truth-'

Keeler waved him into silence. 'We've had that con­versation before. The two do not have to be mutually

occlusive.' She looked into his eyes. 'You are carrying so much weight upon your shoulders, but you're still reluctant to let others bear it with you. This mes­sage. .. the warning, it is not yours alone. All of us who fled the murder at Isstvan, we carry it as well.'

'Perhaps so/ he allowed, 'but that does nothing to lighten my burden. I am in command…' He faltered for a moment. 'I was in command of the Eisenstein, and the message remains my duty. Even you told me that it was my mission.'

Keeler shook her head. 'No, Nathaniel, the warning is just an aspect of it. Your duty, as you said just now, is the truth. You have risked your life for it, you have gone against every will in your heart to join your kins­men to serve it, you even stood in the face of a primarch's fury and did not flinch.'

'Yes, but when I think of all the darkness and destruction that will come of it, I feel as if I am about to be crushed! The import of this, Keeler, the sheer magnitude of Horus's betrayal… It will unleash a civil war that will set the galaxy alight.'

'And because you carry the warning, you feel responsible?'

Garro looked away. Tm only a soldier. I thought I was, but now…'

The woman drew closer. "What is it, Nathaniel? Tell me, what do you believe.'

He put down the cup and produced Kaleb's papers and the brass icon. 'Before he died, my housecarl told me I was of purpose. At the time I did not understand what he meant, but now… now I cannot question it. What if Kaleb was right, if you are right? Am I the instrument of the Emperor's will? Your prayers say that the Emperor protects. Did He protect me so I could fulfil this duty?' Garro spoke faster and faster,

his words racing to match the pace of his thoughts. 'All the things I have seen and heard, the visions that touched my thoughts… Were these to strengthen my resolve? Part of me cries out that this is the highest hubris, but then I look around and see diat I have been chosen by Him. If that is so, then what manner of being can the Emperor be but a… divine one?'

Keeler reached out a hand and touched his arm. Giving voice to the words tore the breath from his chest. 'At last you see with clear eyes, Nathaniel.' The woman looked up at him and she was crying, but they were tears of joyous faith.

A summons was waiting for him in the sleeping cell where Garro had been billeted. He followed Sigis-mund's terse message to a pneu-tram that canied him up through networks of rail tunnels more complex than those of a planet-bound hive meUopolis. He arrived at the fortress command centre and a hard-faced Imperial Fists sergeant escorted him to an audience chamber that rivalled the Lupercal's Court for size and grandeur. Garro felt an uncomfortable flash of memory. The last time he had been called to an assembly like this, it set in motion the events of the Warmaster's heresy.

Iacton Qruze was already there, along with the cap­tains from each of many companies of the Imperial Fists. The warriors in yellow barely acknowledged the arrival of the Death Guard, with only Sigismund granting him a terse nod in greeting.