Read The Flight of the Eisenstein Online
Authors: James Swallow
Euphrati made the sign of the aquila and the two engineers followed suit. The hollow, nervous mood he had seen in their eyes upon their arrival was gone, and they walked away with purposeful strides, a new assurance in their spirits.
The Emperor protects,' said the younger of the two as he passed the iterator, nodding in thanks. Kyril returned the gesture. The girl gave them faith and calmed their fears as she had with dozens of others. The train of men and women finding their way to this rough-hewn chapel had been slow at first, but now they were coming more often, to listen to him speak or merely to be in the presence of the young woman. Sindermann marvelled how word of Keeler had spread.
'Kyril!' He turned to see Mersadie coming towards him in a rush, her perfect face turned in abject fear. 'Someone is coming!' The hushed dread in her words brought back memories of the secret ministry on the
Vengeful Spirit,
and of the men who had come at the Warmaster's behest with bolters and clubs to destroy it. A lookout reported in, just one of them: a single Astartes.'
Sindermann stood up. He could hear heavy boot steps ringing off the gantry deck outside the service hatch to the reservoir chamber, coming closer. 'Did the lookout see a weapon? Was he armed?'
'When are they not?' Oliton piped. 'Even without sword or gun, when are they not?'
His answer was lost as the hatch slammed open and the reverberation put every other sound to silence. A towering form in marble-white armour bent to enter the compartment and the iterator saw the glitter of polished brass on an eagle's-head cuirass. Sindermann stepped forward and gave a shallow bow to the Death Guard, fighting down his trepidation. 'Captain Garro, welcome. You are the first Astartes to come here.'
Garro looked down at the slight man. He was thin and nervous, a cluster of sticks in an iterator's robes, but his gaze was steady and his voice did not waver. 'Sindermann,' noted Garro. He looked around at the inside of the reservoir. It was a large, cylindrical space some two decks tall, with grid-decked gantries on different levels and a network of pipes and vent shafts protruding into the chamber. Tall sheets of metal extended out from the walls to act as baffles when the drum was full of water, but when the chamber stood empty as it did now, they gave the place the look of a chapel knave rendered in old, bare steel. Cargo pallets from the service decks had been arranged as makeshift seating and there was an altar of sorts made from a fuel cell container. Are you the architect of all this?'
'I'm only an iterator,' replied the man.
'What are you doing in here?' Garro demanded, a conflict of anger and frustration rising inside him. 'What do you hope to achieve?'
'That would be my question for you, Nathaniel.' The imagist, the woman they were calling the Saint, walked forward into the light of a string of biolumes. 'Keeler,' he said carefully, 'you and I will speak.' She nodded and beckoned him. 'Of course.' You won't hurt her!' The other remembrancer, the one Qraze identified as Mersadie Oliton, snapped at him. Her words were half in threat, half in desperation, and Garro raised an eyebrow at her temerity.
Keeler spoke again, her voice carrying to all the silent congregation in attendance. 'Nathaniel is here because he is no different from any one of us. We all seek a path, and perhaps I can help him to find his.'
And so, saint and soldier found a place in a shaded corner, and sat across from one another at the fringes of the lamplight.
'There are questions,' she began, pouring cups of water for Garro and for herself. 'I'll answer them if I can.'
The captain grimaced and took the tiny tin goblet in his hands. 'This cult goes against the will of the Imperium. You should not have brought your beliefs here.'
'I could no more leave this than you could leave behind your loyalty to your brothers, Nathaniel.'
Garro grunted and drained the cup with a grim sneer. And yet I have done exactly that, some would say. I have fled the field of battle, and for what? Horas and my own primarch will name me deserter for doing so. Men I have sworn to honour I have left to an uncertain fate, and even in my fleeing I have executed that poorly.'
'I asked you to save us, and you have.' Keeler watched him kindly. And you will. You are the embodiment of your Legion's name. You guard us against death. There is no failure in that.'
He wanted to dismiss her words as insincere and accuse her of speaking empty platitudes, but despite himself, Garro found he was grateful for her praise. He forced the thoughts away and pulled Kaleb's papers from his belt pouch, the brass icon and its chain wrapped around them. "What meaning do these things have, woman? The Emperor is a force against false deities, and yet your doctrine talks of him as a god. How can this be right?'
You answer your own question, Nathaniel,' she replied. You said "false deities", did you not? The truth, the real Imperial truth, is that the Master of Mankind is no sham divinity. He's the real thing. If we acknowledge that, He will protect us.' Garro snorted, but Keeler kept speaking. 'In the past, a priest would ask you for faith based on nothing but words in a book, a tract.' She gestured to the bundle of papers. 'Does the Emperor do that? Answer my question, Astartes. Have you not felt His spirit upon you?'
It took an effort of will for Garro to speak. 'I have, or so I think... I am not certain.'
Keeler leaned back in her chair, and her beatific, metered manner dropped away. She became challenging and focused, eschewing the saintly serenity he expected from her. 'I don't believe you. I think you
are
certain, but that you are so set in your ways that to voice it frightens you.'
'I am Astartes,' Garro growled. 'I fear nothing.'
'Until today' She eyed him. 'You are afraid of this truth, because it is of such magnitude that you will forever be remade by it.' Keeler placed her hand on his gauntlet. What you do not realise is that you have already been changed. It's only your mind that lags behind your spirit.' She studied him carefully. 'What do you believe in?'
He answered without hesitation, 'My brothers, my Legion, my Emperor, my Imperium, but some of those are being taken from me.'
Euphrati tapped him on the chest. 'Not from here.' She hesitated. 'I know you Astartes have two hearts, but you understand my meaning.'
'What I have seen...' His voice grew soft. 'It pulls at the roots of my reason. I am questioning all that I thought absolute. The xenos psyker child that saw into me, that mocked me with jibes about what was to come... Gralgor, dead and yet returned to life by some gruesome infection... and you, glimpsed in my death-sleep.' He shook his head. 'I am as adrift as this ship. You say I have certainty but I do not sense it. All I see are paths to ruin, a maze of doubt.'
The woman sighed. 'I know how you feel, Nathaniel. Do you think that I wanted this?' She pulled at the robes she wore. 'I was an imagist, and a damned good one. I depicted histoiy as it was made. My art was known on thousands of worlds. Do you think that I wanted to feel the hand of a god upon me, that I dreamed one day of becoming a prophet? What we are is as much where destiny takes us as it is what we do with the journey' Keeler gave a slight smile. 'I envy you, Captain Garro. You have something I do not.'
"What is that?'
A duty. You know what it is that you must do. You can find that clarity of vision, a mission that you can grasp and strive to fulfil. But me? Each day of my calling is new, a different challenge, constantly striving to find the right path. All I can be sure of is that I have an aspiration, but I can't yet see its shape.'
'You are of purpose,' murmured the Astartes.
We both are,' agreed Keeler. We
all
are.' Then she reached out and touched his cheek, and the sensation of her fingers against his rough, scarred face sent a tingle through Garro's nerves. 'Since you delivered this ship from the predations of the warp, some of the crew have been praying here for a miracle to save us. They asked me why I did not join them in their calls to the Emperor and I told them there was no need. I told them: "He has already saved us. We only have to wait for His warrior to find the means".'
'Is that what I am? The Emperor's divine will, made flesh?'
She smiled again, and with it she brought forth again the flutter of powerful emotion that Garro had felt alone in the barracks. 'Dear Nathaniel, when have you ever been anything else?'
'Status,' ordered Qruze, catching Sendek's eye at the control console.
The Death Guard nodded at the Luna Wolf with more than a little weariness in his manner. 'Unchanged,' he replied, casting about the bridge to see if any of the officers had anything else to add. Carya met his gaze and silently shook his head. Many of the shipmaster's crew, including the woman Vought, had been granted temporary suspension of their duties in light of the empty void where they found themselves, leaving the ever-wakeful Astartes to man the bridge while the men and women took some small respite. 'Machine-call signals continue to cycle on the short-range vox, although at a generous estimate they will not reach any human ears for at least a millennium.'
The old warrior's brows knitted. 'Do you have anything constructive to add?'
Sendek nodded. 'In the interests of posterity, I have commenced mapping this sector of space. Perhaps if this vessel is recovered at some future date, the data may be of use to those who find it.'
Qruze made a spitting noise. 'Are all you Death Guard this pessimistic? We're not corpses yet.'
'I prefer to think of myself as a realist,' Sendek bristled.
Both men turned as the bridge hatch irised open to admit the Apothecary Voyen. Sendek was still finding it hard to forgive Voyen's association with the lodges and he looked away. The Astartes was aware that Qruze saw the moment between the two battle-brothers, remarking silently upon it with a quizzical look.
Where is the battle-captain?' asked Voyen.
'Below decks,' replied Qruze. 'I have the conn. You may address yourself to me, son.'
As you wish, third captain. I have completed a survey of the ship's stores and consumable supplies. If we instigate rationing at subsistence levels, it is my projection that
Eisenstein's
crew have just over five and one-third months of available resources.'
Carya came forward and ventured a suggestion. 'Could we not put some of the non-essential crew into suspension?'
Voyen nodded. 'That is a possibility, but with the facilities aboard this ship that would only lengthen the duration by another month, perhaps two. I have also examined the option of other emergency measures, such as a cull, but the outcomes are little different.'
The shipmaster grimaced. We're not picking any of my men for voluntary execution, if that's what you're thinking!'
'Seven months at sublight in the middle of the void,' said Sendek as the bridge hatch opened once more, 'and Horns out there all the while with Terra unaware of it.'
Garro entered, his stride firm and purposeful. 'Not on my watch. We have come too far to sit back and wait for death to claim us. We have to act.' He nodded to Carya. 'Shipmaster, signal the enginarium crews to charge the warp motors to full power.'
'Captain, unless that saint singing her hymns down below has grown a third eye and plans to guide us home, we cannot hope to travel any interstellar distance!' Voyen's manner became acid and terse. "We have no Navigator, sir! If we enter the warp, we will be lost forever and those things that attacked us last time will have eternity to pick us apart!'
'I never said we were returning to the warp,' Garro replied coolly. 'Carya, how long until the drive blocks are at maximum potency?
The officer studied his console. 'A few moments, lord.' He hesitated. 'Sir, your Apothecary is correct. I fail to see the reason for bringing the drives back on line.'
Garro didn't answer the implied question. 'I want sublight thrusters ready for a burn at full military power on my command. Call the ship to general quarters and prepare void shields for activation.'
Voyen gestured around the bridge as the alert siren sounded. 'Thrusters and shields now? Is this some sort of drill, Nathaniel? Some kind of make-work to distract the crew, or did the prophet girl tell you that an attack is coming?'
'Watch your tone,' said Garro. 'My lenience only extends so far.'
'Thrusters at your command,' reported Carya. 'Shields ready to be deployed.'
'Hold,' ordered the battle-captain.
From across the bridge, Qruze rubbed his chin. 'Are we going to learn the point of all this activity, lad? I confess I'm as blind to it as the sawbones there.'
Carya looked up. 'Warp drives registering full energy capacity. Battery arrays are brimming, lord. What do you want me to do with them?'
'Clear the drive block compartments, and arm the release mechanisms on the warp motors. When I give the order, you will deactivate the engine governance controls and jettison the drive block, then raise shields and fire the sublight thrusters.'
Qruze chuckled coldly. 'You're as bold as you are mad!'
'Eject the warp engines?' Sendek gaped. 'With all that energy in them, they'll detonate like a supernova!'
Garro nodded solemnly. 'A warp flare. The blast will echo in the immaterium as well as real space. It will act as a beacon for any ships within a hundred par-sees.'
'No!' Voyen's shout cut across the bridge. 'For Terra's sake, no! This is a step too far, captain! It's a death sentence!'
Garro shot him a hard stare. 'Open your eyes, Meric! Everything we have done since we defied the Warmaster has been a death sentence, and yet we still survive! I will not give up now, not after all this flight has cost us!' He reached out and put a hand on the Apothecary's shoulder. Trust me, brother. We will be delivered from this.'
'No,' Voyen repeated, and in a swift blur of movement the Death Guard veteran drew his bolt pistol, bringing it to bear between Garro's eyes. 'I will not let you do this. You'll kill us all, and everything that we have sacrificed will have been for nothing!' Dread filled his voice. 'Tell Carya to rescind those orders or I will shoot you where you stand!'