The room we dropped into was carpeted and well furnished, an office or private study for one of the senior supervisors. There were racks of data-slates, and piles of charts and storage tiles. Several large travel trunks had been piled in one corner, with a cloak and two overcoats draped over
them. One of the new arrivals from the launch had left these things here and not yet unpacked them.
'Come on!' hissed Fischig, checking the door that led out of the office into the rest of the building.
'Wait!' I said. I cut the locks off the trunks with my powersword and threw the lids back. In the first, clothes, slates, a boxed lasgun, ornate and inlaid with the name Oberon. Other miscellaneous effects.
'Come on!' Fischig repeated, frantic.
Aegis, main yard in two/ crackled the vox.
'Eisenhorn? What are you playing at?' Fischig demanded.
These are Claw's things!' I said, searching
'So what? What are you looking for?'
'I don't know/ I turned to the second trunk. More clothes, some crude and unpleasant religious icons.
Fischig grabbed me by the shoulder. 'With respect, inquisitor, that would suggest this isn't the time to be doing it!'
We have to get out of here, we have to get the hell out of here/ Bequin murmured, her eyes darting back and forth at every sound from outside.
There'll be something… an edge, a clue… something we can use when we get out of here…'
We'll be lucky to escape with our lives!'
Yes!' I stared up at him. Yes, we will – and if we do, we'll want to continue our struggle against Glaw, won't we?'
He threw his hands up in despair.
'Please… please…' Bequin murmured.
Aegis, main yard in one/ crackled the vox.
The third trunk. A wrapped set of stainless steel surgical tools whose purpose I didn't even want to imagine. A small dice and counter game in a hardwood box. Clothes, more damn clothes!
With something solid wrapped in them.
I took it out.
'Satisfied?' asked Fischig.
I would have smiled if Locke had left me able.
'Go!' I said.
Beyond the stateroom was an outer annexe. More luggage trunks stood on the grilled floor, as well as wooden boxes draped in plastic.
'Don't even think about it!' Fischig snapped, seeing me look at the trunks.
Aegis, on site!' The vox-burst was partly drowned out by the vibrating roar of a powerful aircraft passing low and fast overhead. There was a chatter of small arms, the whip of las-rifles.
I led the way out of the annexe, through a hatchway that opened onto the landing yard. Figures milled around, mainly slave-guards and naval troopers, looking skywards and firing at the looming gun-cutter that banked overhead. On the far side of the yard, by the lowered ramp of the navy launch, Malahite saw us and shouted out. The men swung around, firing. Shots crackled around us.
Then I saw Mandragore, over to the right of the yard, charging towards us with a baleful howl.
'Back inside! Inside!' I yelled and the three of us tumbled back in through the door.
The outer wall of the building didn't stop the Chaos-beast. Neither did the hatch. Ceramite and steel shod fists tore the lightweight metal apart, twisted adamite support beams, punctured plastic panels like paper. Man-dragore's baying wail preceded him, shaking us to the core.
Bequin screamed.
The vilely misnamed Child of the Emperor exploded through the end wall of the annexe, white lips drawn back around pearl teeth as he hurled out noise from his augmented torso. The boltgun in his fist was enormous.
'Not a step closer!' I yelled. With one hand, I held the primed grenade up so he could see it.
He laughed, a deep, booming chuckle of contempt.
'I mean it,' I added and kicked the crate at my feet. It was laden with plastic wrapped tablets from the mine.
'One second fuse. Another step and all this will be gone.'
He faltered. Lord Glaw and several guards appeared through the shredded wall behind him.
'For pity's sake, do as he says!' Glaw barked.
With a growl, Mandragore lowered his boltgun.
'Back off, Glaw! Back right off and take them with you!'
'You can't hope to escape, inquisitor,' said Glaw.
