The Unremembered Empire by Dan Abnett

Author:Dan Abnett
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2013-09-24T16:00:00+00:00

12

Brothers

‘The Salamander is a sufficiently convincing example that

everything which burns is not consumed,

as the souls in hell are not.’

– ‘Saint’ Augustine

Tetrarch Dolor came to attention as Guilliman strode into the Residency’s medicae hall. The primarch was still wearing his ceremonial war-plate, and seemed too big and regal for the sub-level confines.

‘My lord,’ said Dolor. ‘Your brother has arrived, I gather?’

‘He awaits upstairs,’ Guilliman replied. ‘There is conversation to be had.’

‘How does he seem?’

Guilliman’s solemn face permitted a slight smile at the subtlety of the question.

‘Like himself, Valentus. Like the Lion. He is suspicious, and I fear he has already, in his mind, decided to oppose the future we are trying to secure. I have yet to explain myself and my decisions to him. He has yet to show me that he accepts or even understands what I am about.’

Dolor nodded.

‘He is waiting,’ Guilliman added, dryly, ‘and I have excused myself and come to you, because you asked me to do so, and I know you would not waste my time or divert me unless it was critical.’

Dolor nodded his head again, more a bow of appreciation.

‘It is, my lord,’ he replied. ‘You need to see this. I believe you may be shocked. In truth, I cannot count whether it is reason to rejoice or mourn. Also, I would have spared you this concern when you are occupied with your noble brother, but… you need to know this. You need to be in possession of this information before you take any further steps.’

Guilliman studied his friend’s face, but transhuman features were notoriously hard to read for microexpressions.

‘Then just show me,’ Guilliman said.

Dolor ushered his lord through the doorway into the guarded areas of the secure suite. Status bars on the wall plates displayed the fact that the area was held at vermilion level security. The long line of guarded iris valves opened and closed behind them as they walked.

‘This concerns the object that fell from the sky, doesn’t it?’ Guilliman asked as they walked.

‘Yes, lord.’

‘The transhuman corpse?’

Dolor did not reply directly.

‘You’ve established an origin?’

‘Yes, lord.’

‘An identity?’

‘Yes, lord.’

Guilliman glanced at him sharply.

‘Something else?’ he asked.

‘Something else indeed, my lord,’ said Dolor.

They reached the gloomy inner chamber where the iron casket lay. Captain Casmir and Titus Prayto were waiting for them. They bowed to the primarch and fell into step as Dolor led his lord through the laboratory chambers and into the isolation block beyond. The area was reserved for hazardous material and viral quarantine work. It was a long row of brightly lit cells, stark and white, each with a hermetically sealed armourglass wall facing into a common corridor. The corridor was lined with Ultramarines guards, and high-ranking medicae personnel worked at cogitation and cellular-sampling arrays that had been set up in the walkway facing one of the cells. Power cables snaked from the consoles across the grilled deck in fat rubber loops.

‘Surely the mortal laboratory would have been a better venue for dissection,’ Guilliman began.

‘I authorised the transfer of the patient,’ Dolor replied simply.

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