Xenos Hunters by C. Z. Dunn

Author:C. Z. Dunn [Dunn, C. Z.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2012-08-12T23:00:00+00:00

FEARFUL SYMMETRIES

BY ROB SANDERS

‘Fidus Kryptman,’ the inquisitor spoke into the identi-vox. ‘Three thirty-two thirty-four. Ordo Xenos.’

The security lamps in the passage flashed an urgent amber.

‘Kryptman,’ the tinny voice of the logic engine returned. ‘Inquisition. Clearance: Tetra-Denticus. Admission granted.’

The adamantium security gate to the dungeon vivisectorum scraped slowly to one side. The young Kryptman waited. Taking off his spectacles, the inquisitor proceeded to clean their infrared lenses with the edge of his hooded cloak. ‘After you, arch-genetor,’ Kryptman offered. ‘After all, this is your world.’

Behind him, garbed in rich carmine robes, stood the master of the Opus Ersaticus forge-world – Arch-Genetor Zillicus Vandrasarc, also a celebrated organicist, had long maintained working relationships with the holy ordos and the Adeptus Astartes as well. The genetor’s scalp was threadbare and his cantankerous mask of a face gnarled and ancient. Kryptman spied the faces of liver-spotted cherubim peeking out from miniature hoods in the ample folds of Vandrasarc’s robes. It was these homunculi familiars, growing from the arch-genetor’s own flesh, which kept Vandrasarc alive, assuming for him some of the cancers and dilapidations of his extreme old age. Each pair of eyes fixed the inquisitor with their withered gaze; Kryptman couldn’t begin to imagine what the venerable priest made of his ear-bauble, brow studs and eyeglasses.

‘And of course, this is your facility, magos,’ Kryptman acknowledged as a female tech-priest followed the arch-genetor into the vivisectorum. Magos Lisbex Orm was Kryptman’s ordo contact on the forge-world. A magos xenobiologis of great skill, Orm had been invaluable to Kryptman in his recent investigations. From the back of her augmented skull hung slender mechadendrites that slithered about her like protective serpents.

‘And this, your highly irregular request, inquisitor,’ Vandrasarc carped back in a chorus of voices, from the many mouths adorning his ungainly body. ‘We do not ordinarily sanction the vivisection of living xenos specimens here on Opus Ersaticus. It’s reckless! You won’t be satisfied until you’ve infected us all.’

‘This is a maximum security compound, and the subject has been transported in perfect stasis. Magos Orm has taken every precaution, I assure you.’

‘You can assure me of no such thing,’ Vandrasarc replied crabbily.

‘I can,’ Kryptman returned, ‘and I can say with confidence that despite the dangers inherent in this xenological research, there is no facility safer, nor more secure, in this entire sector.’

‘We shall see, sir,’ the arch-genetor cautioned, ‘we shall see. What you fail to appreciate is that I am responsible for every one of the Omnissiah’s subjects on this planet, and–’

‘And I for the God-Emperor’s across the Imperium,’ Kryptman told him. ‘Your concerns are duly noted. You are welcome to observe this procedure, as your rank and responsibility allows, but I must now give my full attention to my work. So, if you will excuse me…’

Kryptman entered the high security vivisection pit. The large chamber had been partitioned into two concentric sections: a sealed outer observatorium dominated by pict-recorders, auspectra, gun servitors and thick armourglas screens providing views of a secured inner section. Though the secure

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