Fabius Bile: The Omnibus by Josh Reynolds

Author:Josh Reynolds
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2022-06-20T13:53:26+00:00

PART THREE

OBSCURUS

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Lightless Gulfs

‘It is said that the light of the Astronomican does not reach into the Eastern Fringe. I have never seen it myself, though I have gathered descriptions for my records – most often it is seen as a bridge of ­silvery light and heavenly voices, extending into infinity. Or, rather, about fifty thousand light years, give or take.’

Fabius stepped out of the antechamber containing the tertiary strat­egerium, dismissing the hololithic data-feeds as he went. The last signs of pursuit had faded into the galactic distance. Even the lapdogs of the Corpse-Emperor had their limits, and the Red Scimitars had reached them some weeks back. ‘Your brothers have turned back. You are alone now, and in my keeping.’

His words were directed at his guest. The Red Scimitar hung on a vertical examination slab, wrists and ankles securely manacled, head bowed. He had been stripped of his battleplate, which sat in pieces on a slab nearby. It had been some days since he had awakened. His body had taken that long to recuperate from the damage Arrian had inflicted. Fabius circled the slab. The middle section had been removed, so as to allow an unobstructed view of the wounded area.

Gently, Fabius probed the scarred flesh. ‘Healing nicely. Arrian wields a blade the way I wield a scalpel. Were you free, you might even be able to walk again. Perhaps you shall have the opportunity, in time. Once we have come to an accommodation, of sorts.’

He turned to the second slab and its burden of armour. He picked up a section of crimson battleplate. He ran a finger along the lines of poetry etched into its crimson surface. The language was archaic, as was the style. ‘A deliberate stylistic choice, or has literature degenerated to such an extent that this is the best you can do?’ he murmured.

The revolt against Terra had not simply irreparably damaged the physical infrastructure of the nascent Imperium, but its society and culture as well. Lorgar’s bleating flock had pillaged and burned a million repositories of knowledge, for no greater purpose than spite. Horus, at least, had ransacked the great oculariums and archives in a search for knowledge, but he had burned them all the same. As if they’d sought not just to overthrow a tyrant, but upend the foundations of civilisation itself – and for what? Power. Control.

‘A child’s game,’ he murmured, still examining the poem. ‘And at its end, only children remain, unable to do anything more than ape those who came before them.’ He looked at his guest. ‘Is that what you are, then? A feral child, raised on the stories of a golden age that never truly existed, save in the tales of remembrancers and iterators?’

The Space Marine said nothing. He was not unconscious. He had, in fact, been awake for no small amount of time. Biding his time, in hopes of escape, perhaps. Fabius set the chunk of armour aside. ‘There is no escape, brother. You might get out of my laboratorium, even off of this deck, but no further.

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