CONTENTS

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LEFTFORDEADSteveLyons

ThewaronPariusMonumentuswasover.HiveOpushadbeenpriedfromtheclawsofdepravity, thanktheEmperor!Blessedorderwasfinallyrestored.TheAstraMilitarumcouldclaimthevictory.Thelocalmilitia,chronicallyundermanned,hadmisjudgedthespreadofcorruption;ithadovertakenandoverwhelmedthem,forcingthemtotransmitanastropathicdistresscall.ADeathKorpsofKriegregimenthadarrivedtotakecontrol,andforafullmonth,dayandnight,theskyhadflashedandthunderedtotherelentlessbeatoftheirsiegeguns.Thecity’swallshadshudderedandinexorablycrumbled.Itsdecadentcaptorshadbeenputtoflight–andthen,mostofthem,tothesword.TheKorpsmenhaddeparted,withotherwarsonotherworldstofight.Silencehadsettledintheirwake–onlylongenoughfortheEmperor’sloyalsubjectstobreatheacollectiveprayerofrelief.Thentherealworkhadbegun.The sky now resounded with the roars of construction vehicles. The shattered debris of habs andfactorumsgroanedbeneaththeweightofcaterpillartracks.Thegilt-edgedfineryofthecity’scathedrals,reducedtofragments,wasshovelledawaybyclawblades.Exposedgutsofgreatminingmachinesspatandhissedandtouchedofffires.

JarvanwasacorporalinthePariusInteriorGuard.Hewasnewtotheranksincehispredecessorhadbeencapturedandbutcheredbytheenemy,andwaseagertoprovehimself.Hehadchargeofalabourgang,oneofthousands:justunderahundredwearyandtraumatised civilians charged with sifting through the wreckage, recovering what they could. Whip-wieldingservitorsstoodoverthem,encouragingthemintheseduties.ThusitwasthatCorporalJarvanencounteredthestranger.His labourgangwasdraggingbodies froma fallenhab-block.Theyhad foundanumberof survivorsyesterday;notquitesomanytoday.Tomorrow,theywouldbereassignedtoahigherpriorityarea.Powerwasyettoberestoredtothishivesector.Freestandinglumenunitscoughedandsputteredoutspraysofpalewhitelight,betweenwhichlurkedbroodingshadows.Jarvanturnedhisheadatjustthemomenttoseeashapeflittingthroughthoseshadows.Onewithnorighttobethere.Hesnappeduphisriflewithitsflashlightattachment,pinpointingthefigureofaman.Hisskinwaspale,aswithanylower-levelhive-dwellerdeprivedofdirectsunlight.Hewasyoungandwiry,withamilitarybuzzcut.Jarvan’seyeswereimmediatelydrawntothelasguninhishand,thoughthe

strangerwasn’taimingit.‘Drop theweapon!Drop it! Down on your knees. Lace your hands behind your head.’ The strangercompliedwitheachinstructioninturn.‘Identifyyourself,’thecorporaldemanded.The stranger didn’t answer. He knelt, staring at Jarvanwith dull eyes, unblinking. Jarvan thought hemightbeasoldier.Hehadthebuildandbearingofone,butnouniform.Heworeasetofshapelessgreycoveralls,singed,tatteredandsoiled.‘Identifyyourself,’repeatedJarvan.‘Nameandrank?’‘Don’tremember,’saidthestranger,thewordscatchinginhisthroat.Drawingcloser,Jarvansawthatthestranger’sheadwascut.Bloodhadcrustedaroundthewoundandstripedhischeek.Hewasprobablyconcussed.Thecorporalmotionedtothenearestofhislabourers;hehadn’tbotheredtoremembertheirnamesorfaces.Hesentthreeofthemtostripthestrangerandsearchhim.Hedidn’tresist.One labourerbrought thestranger’sweapon toJarvan.Ataglance,hecouldsee that itwasn’tPariusissue.He had seen enough like it in recentweeks, however. The lasgunwasmodified to fire amorepowerfulshot,butatacost.Extrasinkringshadbeenfittedarounditsbarreltobleedoffexcessheat.ItborethestampoftheImperialforgesonLucius,whichmadeitKriegproperty.‘Wheredidyougetthis?’The stranger didn’t answer him.His eyes remained fixed upon Jarvan as the labourers ran callousedhandsoverhim,searchingfortattoosormutations.Theyreportedthatthestrangerwasclean–andoneofthemhadfoundhisidentpapers.Atthecorporal’simpatienturging,hereadoutthedetailshaltingly.‘Hisnameis,uh,Arvo,sir.Registeredto…thissector.He’samenial,third-grade.’Jarvanwasalmostdisappointed.Somuchfuss,hethought,foramaintenancedrudge.Hemusthavetakenthelasgunfromafallentrooper.Likelyhadnoideahowtouseit.Jarvanwasinclinedtoshoothimonthespotandsaveamedicae’stimeandeffort.He lowered his rifle instead, crouching to inspect the stranger’s eyes. Clear enough, he judged. Hestraightenedup,beckoningtohislabourersagain.‘Takehimtothemedicaeandbeswiftaboutit.BackintwentyminutesorI’llhaveyoubothflogged.’Morethanenoughtimehadbeenwastedondistractions.Hehadnointentionofmissinghisend-of-shiftquotas.ThestrangerwashauledoutofCorporalJarvan’ssightand,almostasquickly,fadedfromhisthoughts.

The medicae facility was no quieter than anywhere else. The air buzzed with urgent shouts, rushingfootstepsandthehowlsandscreamsanddyinggurglesoftheuntendedwounded.In fact, theword ‘facility’over-dignified thisplace:amakeshiftcampstrewnbetween thecranesandhoists of a broken-down factorum. A hundred drudges scrubbed the walls, only gradually erodingcenturies of ingrained soot. Their mops swirled fresher vomit and blood around the floor. Haggardmedicsstumbledbetweenthem,red-eyedanddishevelled,urgentpleaspullingtheminalldirections.ThemanknownasArvowasdumpedonacreakinggurney.Helayonhisbackandlettheclamourwashoverhim.Itmergedwiththeringinginhisheadtodenyhimthesleephesorelyneeded.Hebreathedinthestench of infected and diseased bodies.Occasionally, he slipped into a fitful doze, to bewoken by agunshot.Formanyofhisfellowpatients,itappeared,abullettothebrainwasthemostefficienttreatment.For hours, only two people showed Arvo any attention. The first was an Administratum clerk whocheckedhispapers, tappedhisdetails intoadata-slate,clickedhis tonguetohimselfandmovedaway.Thesecondwasamiddle-agedwoman,drippingpiouslywithreligioussymbols,whosearchedhimasthe

labourersatthehab-blockhadsearchedhim,forsignsofChaoscorruption.Inbetweentheseinterruptions,hismindfledtotherecentpast.

HiveOpushadbeensplitopen,itscannonssilenced.TheDeathKorpshadrisenfromtheirtrenchesandsurgedforwards.Theywerestrafedwithsmall-armsfire,tonoavail.Foreveryskull-maskedfigurecutdown, two more appeared to replace him. Their advance continued, unstoppable. A tidal wave ofscreamingmadness.Theirenemieswereworshippersofexcess,wantonrevellersincarnalpleasure.TheypossessednotafractionoftheKorpsmen’sirondiscipline.InthefaceoftheEmperor’sholyvengeance,theybroke.Holesgapedopenwithin the cultists’masses, intowhich theKorpsmenpouredandwidened themwithguns,combatknivesandthestrengthoftheirownsinews.Arvo’shead rang to eachbeatof thebattle.His earshadbeendeadened,his eyes flash-blindedbyabursting grenade. The stink of blood and fire, cordite and death assailed his nostrils. He lay on hisstomachinthedirt,pinneddown.Bloodcrawled,hotandsticky,downhisrightcheek.His visionwas beginning to clear, though it was still blurred. Shapes shifted around him, through athickeningsmokehaze.Hemusthavebriefly lostconsciousnessas thebattlefronthadpassedoverhim.DeathKorpsmensurroundedhim,encasedinflakarmourandheavygreatcoats.Theirbootspulverisedthedebrisbesidehishead.Howinhumantheylooked,hethought,withtheirfacesconcealedbehindrebreathermaskssothateventheireyeswerehidden.Fromthislowlyvantagepoint,hecouldn’ttellonefromanother.Theymusthaveseenhim,inturn,butnoonecametohelphim.Whywouldthey?Hewasnothingbutastrangertothemtoo–andeachKorpsmanwaslookingforaclearshotattheenemy,throughthecrushofhis comrades before him, following an imperative drilled into him from birth. Pushing forward, everforward.Then,minutes,hoursordayshadpassed,andtheyweregone.Arvobarelyremembereddragginghimselftohisfeet,throwingoffthehunksofmasonrythathadpileduponhis back.He foundhimself, for thevery first time inhis life, alone.Hehad clung tohis lasgunthroughouthisordeal,sohardthefingersofhisrighthandhadseizeduparounditstriggerguard.Hismask had been knocked askew.The rebreather unit on his chestwas dented and inoperative.Heshuckedoffhiscoatanddiscardedhisbrokenequipment.Theairwasunpleasant,butat least itwasn’ttoxic,notliketheairofhisbirthworld.NotlikeKrieg.ThemanwhowouldbeknownasArvoheldhismaskinhisglovedhands.Hestaredatthereflectionofafacehedidn’trecogniseinitsblank,skull-eyesocketsandanunfamiliarthought,anunworthythought,occurredtohim.Hewasfree.

Arvowasyankedbacktothepresent,andtohismakeshiftsickbed.Amedicae squinted at him through an augmetic eyepiece.He clicked his fingers at a servitor,whichtrundledover. It broughtupaheavyhypodermicarm, insidewhich serum-filled tubescycleduntil onelockedintoplace.TheservitorthrustahugeneedleintoArvo’sstomachandachemicalboltdulledhispainandtiredness,sharpeninghismind.‘Discharged,’themedicaegrunted,turningawayfromhim.Arvocalledafterhim,‘No,wait.WheredoIgo?’‘Nofurthertreatmentnecessary.Discharged.’Themedicaehoveredoveranotherpatient,presentinghisbacktoArvo.‘Fullrecoveryimpossible.Terminationadvised,’hepronouncedinthiscase,andmovedon.

Arvo climbed off the gurney. Themoment his feet touched the floor, a pair of drudges deposited anunconsciouswomaninhisplace.Theirdowncasteyesavoidedhisandhechosenottoquestionthem.Hewaswaryofaskingtoomanyquestions.Hetookhispapers–rather,Arvo’spapers–fromhispocket.Hefoundanaddressonthem.Ahab?Itwasn’tclear.Hehadneverknownsuchathing.Other discharged patients were joining a line. It stretched from a desk at which amiddle-agedmanworked unhurriedly. Arvo followed the line out of the building, halfway around a city block. Heeavesdropped as someone else asked what the line was for and was told ‘habitation and labourassignments.’Hetookhisplaceatthebackofthelineandwaited.Hespokeonlyonce,whensomeonebehindhimgrumbledthathissprainedanklehadn’tbeenbandaged.‘The Emperor gives us all we need,’ snapped Arvo, ‘and resources must be managed.’ He regrettedabandoninghisdepletedmedi-kitalongwithhisuniform.Hecouldhavesterilisedhisheadwound.

‘Nameandidentnumber?’askedthedeskclerk,threehourslater.He thumbed a data-slate, nodding occasionally to himself. Arvo waited, half-expecting the clerk touncoverhisdeceptionassoonashelookedupandsawhisface.‘Yourhab-sectorhasbeencondemned,Isee.I’massigningyoutoashelterandalabourgang.’Theclerktook the stub of a pencil toArvo’s papers,made and initialled some amendments, and slid thembackacrossthedesk.Hedidn’tglanceatArvoatall.Checkinghiswristchrono,hesaid,‘Yourfirstworkshiftbeginsattwenty-six-hundredhours.Thetimenowistwenty-four-eighteen.Next!’Publicvehicleswereleavingthemedicaecampallthetime,dispersingex-patientsacrossthesprawling,multi-layeredcity.NowArvoknewwhatwasexpectedofhim,heactedaccordingly.Amongthebleary-eyedcrowd,helocatedsixothersboundforhissectorandanInteriorGuardgroundcaranddrivertotakethemthere.Arvo rode on the fender as they snaked their way through burning industrial blocks and aroundimpassable thoroughfares.Hedrank in thesounds,sightsandsmellsofaworldunlikeanyhehadseenbefore, aworld that fewof his kindwould ever see: a brokenworld, for sure, but aworld – for themoment–atpeace.Arvo’snewworld.

ThegirlwatchedArvoforfourdaysbeforeshedaredapproachhim.Her labour gang, now his gang too, was excavating a collapsed grain store. Their Interior Guardoverseerhadimpresseduponthemtheimportofthistask.Emergencysupplieshadbeenrequestedfromtheclosestagriworld,butthousandscouldstarvewaitingforthem.Arvohadoneof the larger tools: a pickaxe.Hewas shattering the biggest,most intractable hunksofdebrissothatotherscouldscoopthemupwithshovels.Thegirlhadashovelandhadworkedherwayclosertohim.Assoonasshewasallowed,shetookabeakerofwatertohim.‘Hello,’shesaid.‘MynameisZanne.’He respondedwith a disinterestedgrunt.He swunghis axe, shattered stone, hefted the axe again.Hedidn’ttakethewaterfromher.ShehadrarelyseenArvotalkingtoanyoneelse.Thishadbeenbychoicetobeginwith.Havingbeenrebuffed,however,hisfellowlabourersnowtendedtoshunhim.‘YournameisArvo,’Zannepersisted.‘Iheardtheoverseersayso.’‘Yes,’heallowed.‘MynameisArvo.’‘Andyou’refromHab-SectorKappa-Two-Phi.Iusedtolivethere.’Arvoswunghisaxe,shatteredstone,heftedtheaxeagain.‘Howdidyougetsostrong?’

Thisquestionfazedhim,justalittle,interruptinghisrhythm.‘I think you’re the strongest in our gang,’ Zanne told him. Hewas, in fact, easily the best andmosttirelessworker among them.Shedidn’t think the servitorshadeverhad towhiphim.Theothersoftentalked about him in resentful tones because he made them look idle, more deserving of the lash incomparison.‘Theworkisgood,’Arvogrunted.Zannewassurprised.‘Youenjoyit?’‘Itisgoodtobuild,toimprovethingsratherthandestroythem.’Sheconsideredthatstatement,chewingonherlowerlip.‘Yes,’sheagreedatlength,‘Isupposeitis.’Aservitorwheeled itsponderous frame theirway.Quickly,Zannedropped toherkneesandbegan toshovel again. She setArvo’s beaker down beside him. ‘You should drink it,’ she insisted. ‘You don’tknowwhenthere’llbemore.Thisisgoodwatertoo,hardlyanyslimeinit.Somedays,thereisnoneatall.’Arvolookedatherforthefirsttime.‘Howoldareyou?’‘Eleven,’saidZanneproudly.‘Tenandthree-quarters,really,butI’vebeenlookingaftermyselfsinceIwassix.’‘Whathappenedtoyour…?’Hestruggledtofindtherightword.‘Myparents?Idon’tremembermydad.HediedwhenIwasalittlegirl.Theysaiditwasamonsterthatgotlooseinthemines.ThenMumwasillandIhadtolookafterher.Ihadtoworktoearnfoodforustoeat.Butshediedtoo.’‘Theillnesstookher?’Zanneshookherhead.‘Thecultists,then?’‘Shewas inour hab-blockwhen it collapsed.Theblasphemerswerehiding in there, you see, so thesoldiershadto–’Arvo’seyesnarrowed.Amuscleinhischeektwitched.‘Thesoldierskilledher?’‘Theyhadnochoice.Theyhad tostop theblasphemers.For theEmperor.’Zannespoke inaperfectlymatter-of-facttone,asifrelatingsomethingshehadreadinabook.Herlife,shehadalwaysbeentaught,waswhatitwasandtherewasnopointbeingsadaboutthat.Self-pity,infact,wastheveryworstkindofingratitude.Shewasalmostgratefulforthehardworktoo.Itkepthermindbusy.Arvopushedhisuntouchedbeakertowardsher.‘Here,’hesaid.‘Youdrinkit.’Hedidn’thavetooffertwice.Zannedownedthequenchingwaterinonegulp.Theservitor,ittranspired,wasstillwatchingher; she felt its lashacrossher shoulders for takingmore thanher share,but itwasworth it.Whatwas onemore stripe to add to all the others?Shewiped her lips on her filthy, raggedsleeve.‘Ididnotmeantogetyouintrouble,’Arvomumbled,oncetheservitor’sattentionwassafelyelsewhereagain.‘Itwasn’tyourfault,’Zanneassuredhim.‘Wehaveourorders,’saidArvostiffly,‘andwemustfollowthem.’

Betweenworkshifts,theyate,sleptanddidlittleelse,alongsideathousandothersinadesignatedrefugeeshelter.Thebuildinghadbeenachapel,butwasdesecratedbeyondhopeofsalvation.Woodenpewshadbeenhackedtopieces,stained-glasswindowsshattered.Bloodandfaeceshadbeenscrubbedfromthewalls

buthadleftalingeringpungentscent–whiletheoutlinesofspray-paintedblasphemiesendured.Arvo collected his ration of gruel that night and, as always, consumed it sitting cross-legged on hisblanket. Tonight, for the first time, someone joined him.He didn’t object to Zanne’s presence, thoughagainitwaslefttohertobreakthesilence.‘Doyouhaveanyfamily?’sheaskedhim.Arvoshookhishead.‘What,never?Butyoumusthave.Theremusthavebeensomeone.Everyonehasamumandadad,eveniftheynever–’Arvointerruptedherangrily.‘Ihadnoone.Nothing.Justa…’Hecheckedhimself,asifregrettinghiscandour.Hesighed.‘Idonotbelonghere.’Zannelongedtoaskwhathemeantbythat.Shehadhadherfirstglimpsebehindthestranger’sfaçade,however,andfearedwhatelseshemightunleash.Shesummonedhercourageanyway.Shehadnevermetanyoneunlikeherselfbefore;shewantedtoknoweverythingabouthim.Butassheopenedhermouth,hermomentwasstolen.Ahowlofrageandpanickedyellingemergedfromoneofthetransepts.ArvowasonhisfeetbeforeZannehadseenhimmove.Hisbowlclatteredtothetiledfloor,spillingitscontents.Zanne,too,wasbrushedaside.Whileothersgapedandcowered,toowearyandafraidtoact,Arvowadedthroughthem.Zannebegantofollowhimbutstopped,suddenlyafraid.Amanburst from the transept:gangly,half-dressedanddirty,wild-eyedwith a straggly, lice-infestedbeard.HescreamedinawaythatZannehadseenfewtimesbefore,likeamanpossessed,scatteringthosearoundhimwiththeforceofhisinsanity.Afewbraversoulstriedtocatchhim,strugglingforagriponhissinewyarmsandlegs,tearinghisonce-white shift. They andmany others shoutedwarnings, prayers or just shoutedmindlessly, afraid. Theirvoicescrashedintoeachothersothatonlytheirfearwascommunicated,spreadinglikewildfire.Arvosteppedconfidentlyintothemadman’spath.Hishandlashedoutlikeapython.Therewasacrackofboneandthemadmanwasabruptlysilenced.Hecollapsedtothefloor,hiseyesrollingbackintohishead–andthefearsubsided,thoughthecrashofvoicesdidnot.Overseers in the chapel were only beginning to react to the disturbance, pushing through a newlyenergisedcrowd.Themadman,thoughcertainlydead,waspunchedandkickedandspaton.Everyone was keen to offer their version of events. Zannemade out some of the details therein: ‘–shirkinghisduties–’,‘–morethanhisshareofwater–’,‘–mutteredsomethingthatsoundedlike–’,‘–onlymouthingthewordsoftheprayer–’,‘–hidingsomethingonhisshoulder,likeatattooor–’Arvoshrankfromthecentreofattention,reappearingatZanne’sside.Nooneappearedtonoticehim,forallhehadjustdoneforthem.Hisparthadbeenplayedintheblinkofaneyeandheretreatedbackintoanonymity.Theoverseersswiftlyconcludedtheirinvestigations.Theydidn’tbothertoinspectthemadman’sbody,but picked out two labourers at random and instructed them to dispose of it. Funeral pyres had beenburningacrossthecityforweeks.Thiswasjustalittlemorefuelfortheclosestofthem.‘Howdidyouknow?’ZanneaskedArvo.‘Howdidyouknowwhattodo?’‘Decisiveactionwasrequired,’hestatedflatly.‘Yes,buthowdidyouknow–thatwhattheyweresayingaboutthatmanwastrue?Didyouhearorseesomethingor…?’Zanneturnedtohernewfoundfriendandsawthetruthinhisdull,greyeyes.Hervoicetailedoff.‘Decisiveactionwasrequired,’hesaid.

‘Iunderstand,’Zannetoldhim.Itwashalfanhourlaterandmostofthelumenunitshadbeenshutoff.Tiredrefugeeshunkereddownonthecold tiles,wrapped in their threadbareblankets.Someof them,exhaustedby theday’s travailsandneedingtoreplenishtheirstrengthfortomorrow’s,werealreadysnoring.‘I’vebeenthinkingaboutit,’saidZanne,keepinghervoicelowindeferencetotheslumberingmoundsaroundher,‘andIreallydo.Iunderstand.’Arvogrunted.Hehadpouredhiswater ration intohisbowlandwasbathinghisheadwoundwith it.Oncehewasdone,heputthebowltohislipsanddrainedit.‘Yousawhoweveryonewasstartingtopanicandyouhadtodosomethingtostopit.Ifyouhadn’t,thingscould’vebeenmuchworse.Peoplecouldhavebeentrampledand…thatmanprobablydidsomethingtodeserveit,anyway.’One life formanymore; it seemeda reasonableequation,at least to thosewhoknewhowcapriciousdeath–andthewilloftheEmperor–couldbe.‘They’re saying that a group of cultists hid in the shelter in Sector Eta-Two-something,’ Zannewhispered.‘Duringthenighttheytookouttheirknivesandtheywentaroundslittingthethroatsof–’ArvoplacedahandonZanne’s.‘Fetchyourblanket,’hesaidgruffly.Crowdedthoughthechapelwas,therewassomespacearoundhim.Noonewantedtogettooclose.Thegirl’sfacelitup.Shehurriedofftodoasshewastold.Bythetimeshereturned,Arvowasasleep.Inhisdreamhewasontheground;paralysed,helpless,assoldiersinskullmaskswerebeingblastedtopiecesaroundhim.Heknewheshouldn’tcare.Foreveryone thatdied twomoreappeared to replacehim,therewasnostoppingthem–yetsomehow,inthegarbledworldofthedream,everyskull-maskedsoldierwashim.Thedreamdisturbedhim,yetoddly itbroughthimcomfort too.When thewakingbellswrenchedhimbacktoconsciousnessandherememberedwherehewas,aknottightenedinthepitofhisstomach.Thedream,at least,hadbeenofa familiarworld.Hehadknownhisplace there,knownhisdutyandtherehadbeenothers,manymillionsofothers,likehim.Inthewakingworld,thisworldatpeace,Arvofoundhimselflost.Overseerswereonthemove,encouragingtheslow-to-rouse.ArvolocatedZanneandnudgedherwithhistoe,sparingherthelash.‘Stayclosetometoday,’hewhispered.Hecouldalreadyheartheclattersofladles,depositinggreyslopintinbowls.Hecouldn’ttarryifhewishedtoeat.Therewasrarelyenoughforeveryone.Artificial hive light streamed through the broken windows, catching shards of coloured glass anddiffusingintorainbows.AnotherdaystretchedoutaheadofArvo.Anotherlong,hardworkday.Itwasn’ttheworkthatmadehimfeelweary,however.ArvowasweariedbytheeffortofpretendingtobeanordinaryImperialcitizen–whenhehardlyknewwhatthatmeant.

‘Attention,allcitizens.’Thevoiceblaredout fromvox speakers across the sector.Everyonewas expected toheed itswordswithoutpausingintheirlabours.ItoccurredtoZannethat,afterallthedevastation,thespeakershadbeenthefirstthingsrestored,whichwasonlyrightofcourse.Communicationwasvitalandthemorningbulletinsdeliveredgoodnewstoliftthe spirits. Today, for example, there had been a great victory on Orath, as the Emperor’s Angelsdescendedfromtheskiestocleansethatworldofpestilence.TherewasalsoawarningaboutdiehardcultistcellsinhidingacrossHiveOpus.‘Aspywasuncovered

inarefugeonlylastnight,schemingtosabotageourreconstructionefforts.ItwasbytheEmperor’sgraceandthroughthevigilanceofordinarycitizenssuchasyourselvesthathisvileplotwasfoiled.’Zannehadnoshoveltoday,havingbeenlateinlinefortools.Shehadtodigwithherhands,whichwasnoexcuseforslacking.PrivateRennewasoverseeing.HewasalittlemoremindfulofZanne’syoungagethanmost.Helethertakewatertotheotherlabourers,sotheycoulddrinkwithoutleavingtheirposts.She foundArvo kneeling, cradling something in his lap. He had laid down his axe. Zanne crouchedbesidehim,concernedthathemightbehurt,andsawwhathewasholding.Itwasamask;agasmaskwithaholeforarebreathertube.Oneofitsroundeyepieceshadbeenshatteredandtheclothwasstiffwithdriedblood.Arvohadhalfuncoveredafallenman.Zannehadnoticedthebody,butpaiditnoheed–itwasjustoneofmany,verymany.Itseemedtohaveaffectedherfriend,however.Thedeadman’srighteyewasamess.Zannerecognisedabulletwoundbynow,andknewitwouldhavebeeninstantlyfatal.Arvomusthavepeeledthegasmaskfromthecorpse.Whatwasitaboutthisoneinparticularthathadmadehiseyesglazeover?‘Didyouknowhim?’sheasked.Arvohesitated.‘Inaway,’heconfessed.‘Heisn’twearinganything.’‘Thequartermastersmusthavereachedhimbeforehewasburied.’Shefrownedattheunfamiliarword.‘Quartermasters?’‘Theysalvagedhisweapon,hisarmour,hisequipment.’Arvoturnedthemaskoverinhishands.‘Theyonlyleftthisbehindbecauseitisbrokenbeyondrepair.Itserveditspurposeandisuselesstothemnow.Justlikeitsowner.’‘Whowashe?’askedZanne.‘Oneofourliberators.’‘TheAstraMilitarum?’Zanne had thought she’d never seen an ImperialGuardsmanbefore. She nowrealised that she had seen plenty in recent days. She had just never seen one alive. Much had beenrumouredabouttheimplacable,facelesssoldiersoftheDeathKorpsofKrieg.Bereftoftheirfearsomearmourtheylookedlikeanyoneelse,anycasualtyofwar.WhydidOrathmeritAngelswhenPariushadtomakedowithordinarymen?‘PraisetheEmperorfortheirsacrifice,’shemimickedthemorningbulletins.‘TheyarebredtofightandtodieforHim,’Arvomurmured.‘Theybelievetheirlivesareworthlessthanotherlives.Thismanhadnothingbuthisduty.Hewasgladtotakeabulletintheeye,sothatwecould…Wecould…’‘Wecouldbefree,’saidZanne.‘Yes,’saidArvodully.‘Sowecouldbefree.’They had rested too long.Awhip servitor sprang up behind them, themuscles in its overdevelopedshoulders cording. The lash that replaced its right arm struck at Arvo’s back, crackling with a mildelectricchargeforgoodmeasure.Arvoacceptedhispunishmentwithhardlyawince.Hedroppedtheblood-encrustedmaskandretookhispickaxe.OnlyZanneheardthebitterwordshemutteredtohimselfasheresumedhistoil,withredoubledefforts:‘Sowecouldbefree.’

Theyachievedabreakthroughlaterthatafternoon.The labourers cleared away into a storage cellar. Private Renne shone a luminator down there andannouncedthatitappearedintact.Hesentadozenlabourersdownintothedarknessatonce.Zannewould

gladlyhavebeenoneofthemandwassmallenoughtofit.Arvoheldherbackwithashakeofhishead.For the next few hours, bulging grain sacks were hauled up from the cellar, passed along a line ofworkers, loaded into waiting trucks. One boy was whipped insensate when a sack tore in his arms,disgorging its load.Zannewasamong thosewhohad tokneelandclawbackwhat theycouldfromthedirt.Theyworkedanextrahour,soflushedwasRennewiththeirsuccess.Bytheendofit,thecellarwasalmostpickedclean.Then,awomanintheentrancewaylostherfootingwithafullsackinherhands.Herflailinghandsnatchedatacreaking,groaningrafterforsupport–andthewholeworldshifted.AterribleroarpiercedZanne’sears.Shethoughttheymightbebleeding.Shefoundherselfhuggingtheground,chokingonblackdust,blindedbytears.Shecametorealiseonlygraduallythattheshakinghadstopped.Ashereardrumscleared,sheheardcoughsandsplutters,wailsofpainandcracked,feeblecriesforhelp.Zanne’sfirstthoughtwastogetbacktoworkbeforeaservitorsawher.Shemadeittoherkneesbeforedoublingover,hackingupdustandbile.Therewerebodiesstrewnabouther.Someweretwitching,someominouslystill.Othersstruggledtoescapefrombeneathfreshmoundsofwreckage.‘It’sall right,’ shehearda familiarvoice inherear.Astrongarmencircledher shoulders. ‘It’sover.You’re safe.’Arvo had produced a beaker ofwater from somewhere – probably his own ration. Sheaccepteditgratefully.‘Allthosep-people,’Zannestammered,tremblingwithshock.Arvoshookhishead.‘Wecandonothingforthem.’‘Youstoppedmegoingdownthere.Youknewthecellarwasunsafe.Youcouldhave…Whydidn’tyousaysomething?’‘TheoverseerssawwhatIsaw,’Arvoassuredher.‘TheyknewwhatIknew.Itisnotforustoquestiontheirdecisions.’Thewearytrudgebacktotheshelterthatnightwasmadeunderaheavierpallofsilencethanusual.Astheworkersfiledthroughthechapeldoors,PrivateRennejoinedasmallgroupofhiscomradesoutside.Heboastedtothemabouthissuccessfulday,abouttheamountoffoodhehadrecovered.Insidethechapel,therewasnosignofextrafood,justfewermouthstoeatit.Whatlittlegruelremainedwaslukewarm,startingtocongeal.Zannewastootiredtofeelhungryanyway.Shewentstraighttobed.Despitehergang’sextendedshifttoday,workwouldresumeexactlyonscheduletomorrow.

‘I heard something today,’ said Zanne. ‘From someone at the refuge. His labour gang found anothersoldier,aDeathKorpsofKrieg-er.Alive.’Arvoshookhishead.‘No.’‘Whynot?’protestedZanne,althoughshehadinfactbeenlying.‘ThequartermasterscounteveryKorpsmanbackintothedropships.’‘Butwhatif–?’‘Onlythedeadareleftbehind–orthemissing,presumeddead.’‘Yes,butwhatifoneofthe–?’‘Asurvivorwouldmakehimselfknowntotheplanetaryauthoritiesandarrangereturntohiscompanyassoonaspossible,elsebeadeserter.’Theyweretrampingthroughthestreetsofthehive.Theirgangwasbeingherdedtoitsnewassignment,whichwasfurtherawaythantheoldone.Thisgavethemhalfanhour’srespiteeachmorningbeforetherealworkstarted.Zannelikedthattheoverseerstoleratedsometalking,aslongastheirchargeswalked.

‘Whatwouldhappen,then?’sheasked.‘Toadeserter?’Hedidn’tanswer.Zannestudiedhisfaceforacluetowhathewasthinking,butfoundnone.‘Yousaid,’shepromptedhim,‘thattheKrieg-erswerebred.Tobesoldiers?’‘ForaKorpsmantodisobeyorders,’Arvomurmured,soshehadtostraintohearhim,‘itisunknown,inconceivable.Hisconditioning…Unless…’‘Unlesswhat?’‘UnlesstheKorpsmanhimselfwas…deficient.OrtouchedbyChaos.’Atthesoundoftheword,Zannemadetheprotectivesignoftheaquilaacrossherchest.‘Theymustbefrightened,sometimes,evensoldiers.’‘Weare taughtnot toquestion.Weare taught that theEmperorhasall theanswers,evenwhenweareblindtothem.Wearetaughtthattothinkforbiddenthoughtsisasignofinsanity,buthow…Howcanweknowforsure?’‘If I had to be shot at and blown up every day and had to face all kinds ofmonsters, I think I’d befrightened.’‘Notfrightened,’Arvomuttered.‘Neverfrightened.’Hewouldn’tbedrawnfurtheronthesubject.Hedidn’tspeakagainuntillaterthatafternoon.Theywereclearingthesiteofademolishedhab-block,toallowanewonetobeerected.Theyhadoverfilledawastedisposalcart,whichArvohadtowheeltothe incinerators. Zanne went along, a volunteer, to steady his load and to shovel up the debris thatsloughedfromit.‘Whatwillyoudo?’Arvoaskedherunexpectedly.Shefrowned.‘When?Whatdoyoumean?’‘Oncethereconstructioniscomplete.Whatdidyoudobefore?’Zannelaughedathim.‘Therewasno“before.”’SeeingArvo’sbrowfurrow,shetriedtoexplain.‘Thereis always rebuilding to do.We build, the traitors and themonsters come along and knock everythingdown,andwehavetobuildagain.’‘Thenthis,thelabourgangs,thisisallthereis?’Theywerestandingatthefurnacemouth.ItsbreathsearedthesideofZanne’sfaceandcastherfriendinafieryorangeglow.‘WeservetheEmperorifwebuildfasterthanourenemiesdestroy.’Shewasrecitingoldwordsagain,wordsshehadlearnedinherschola.‘WhenwebuildmorethanweneedonParius,wecansendmetalandchemicalstotheEmperor’sforgesandmentofightforHim.’‘Thenwhat…?’Arvothoughtbetterofthequestionandstifledit.Heturnedaway,applyinghimselftotheemptyingofthecart.Zannehadtoprompthimtwicebeforehelookedatheragain.‘Whatarethosemenfightingfor?’heaskedinadeathlywhisper.Hiseyesdemandedananswer,butshehadnonetogive.Instead,tofilltheuncomfortablesilence,Zanneblurtedout,‘Iknewhim.Hewasourneighbour,backintheoldhab-block.Heusedtocomearoundandfixourlumoglobeswhenthey…IthoughtIshouldtellyou,that’sall.’Arvo didn’tmove, didn’t speak. Zannewondered if she hadmade a terriblemistake. Therewas notakingbackthewords,however.Notnowshehadfinallyreleasedthem.Shecouldn’tbottlehersecretupagain.‘IknewtherealArvo,’sheconfessed.

ArvoreturnedtotheshelterthatnighttofindZanne’sblanketgone.Shehadmoveditasfarawayfromhimasshecould.Sheavoidedhimatworktoo,thoughhekeptaneye

onherasmuchaspossible.Onlythreedayslaterdidhefind–andtake–achancetospeaktoheragain.Zannelookedtired.Shehadbeenlashedthreetimesalready.Shewasbeginningtosagagain,andwhipservitorswerecircling.Arvotookwaterovertoher.Zannesmiledweaklythroughthesheenofdirtthatcovered her round face. Shewas shivering.He felt her forehead. Itwas hot and his hand came awaydamp.Shelethimhelpherdig,untiltheservitorsturnedtheirgazeselsewhere.‘HewasdeadwhenIfoundhim,’hemutteredtoher.‘Ididnotkillhim.’Zannegapedathim.‘Ofcoursenot.Ineverthought–’He knew now why she alone had talked to him, why she had been so curious. He owed her anexplanation.Forthreedays,hehadstriventoformulateone.‘IwokeandIwasalone,’hebegan,interruptingher.‘Ifoundhisbody,Arvo’sbody,andI…Itmayhavebeentheblowtomyhead,but…Iwonderedwhyhislife,yourlives,wereworthmorethanourlives.Iwonderedwhatyouhadthatwassoprecious,worththesacrificeofsomanyofmybrothers.’‘Youthoughttoomanyquestions.’Arvonodded.‘Yes.Idid.Iwantedtounderstand.’‘I…’beganZanne.Sheswallowed,avertinghereyesfromhim.‘Ihavequestionssometimes,too.Justinmymind,but…’‘Goon,’hesaid.‘Sometimes,intheblock,I’dhearpeoplesaying,“whycan’twehavemorefoodandlongerresthours?”Ishouldhavereportedthemastraitors,butIdidn’t.Iknewtheyhadalcohol.Theyweremakingitonthethirty-fourthfloor.Thentherewasgraffitiinthestairwellsandthenextthinganyoneknew–’‘Everythingfellapart,’mutteredArvo.‘So,doyou?’askedZannewithdisarmingdirectness.‘Doyouunderstand?’Arvo’sbrowcreased.Hetookabreath.A sudden eruptionof noise forestalledhim.Familiar noise, the soundtrackof his old life.At first hethought it was in his head, another memory. Gunfire and voices raised in anger, fear and pain – andexplosions.HecouldseefromZanne’sfacethatsheheardittoo.Inthedistance,butrapidlyapproaching:thesoundofwar.Arvoreachedbyreflexforagunthatwasn’tthere.Heclungtothehaftofhispickaxeinstead,risingfromhiscrouch.Mostoftheoverseershadalsodrawnweaponsandwereheadedtowardsthedisturbance.Theirleader,CorporalMaxtell,remained.‘Ignoreit,’hebarkedathisnervouslabourers,sprayingspittle.‘Whateverishappeningisnobusinessofyoursandnoexcuseforshirking.Thisgangwillmeetitsend-of-shiftquotasorI’lltakethedifferenceoutofyourhides!’‘Sir,Icanhelp,’Arvospokeup.‘I–’He feltZanne’selbow inhis ribsandbithis tongue.Shewas right. Itwouldbeunwise to revealhissecret.Aglowering servitorwaspushing itsway towardshim.Hedidashewas told and returned towork–thoughnotforlong.Thewarwithallitsnoiseandfurycrashedintothem.Itbeganwithasinglerunningfigure,spittingprofanitiesoverhisshoulder.Ablack-and-purplecultist’scloakwas slungoverhisgrey labourer’s coveralls.Maxtell fired.Hemissed,but a lasgunbeam frombehind blew out the traitor’s knee. He fell in a spray of bone fragments and blood to lie in gasping,twitchingagony.Thecorporalbowed to the inevitable,yelling tohisgang to retreatbutkeepholdof their tools.Arvokeptatightgriponhisaxe.Morecultistsburstontothescene,andhesteppedtogreetthem.Notexpecting

resistancefromasimplelabourer,theyranintohisbludgeoningattack.Theywereeverywhere,suddenly,stinkingshadowsemergingfromthehalf-light,seekinghumanshieldstohidebehind.OnemadeagrabforZanneandearnedArvo’spickthroughhisskull.Muzzles flashed.ArvosawMaxtellcutdownashedived forcover.HepulledZannedownbehindahalf-demolishedwall.Oneofthegang’slumenunitswasshotout,followedswiftlybytheother.PariusInteriorGuardtroops,includingsomeofArvo’soverseers,werehardonthecultists’heels.Theirlasgun and luminator beams criss-crossed in the darkness. Voices yelled to the labourers to flattenthemselvesontheirstomachs,butmanywereheldcaptiveorjusttoopanickedtocomply.Thesoldiers,havinggivenfairwarning,werenotreticentaboutshootinganyshadowthatmoved.Zanne had curled into a trembling ball. ‘There are only a few of them,’ Arvo whispered to herreassuringly.‘Adozen,atmost.Thisisnotaplannedattack.Theyhavebeensmokedoutofsomeboltholeandareonthedefensive.’They’redoingasmuchdamageas theycan,hecouldhaveaddedbutchosenot to,one lasthowlofragebeforetheydie.HerecalledwhatZannehadsaid:Webuild, the traitorsand themonsterscomealongandknockeverythingdown,andwehavetobuildagain.‘Staydown.’Arvo knewhis surroundings.By instinct, he had committed every detail of them tomemory.He alsoknewwhere each cultist had beenwhen the lightswent out.He edged out from behind the half-wall,keepinglowtoreducetheriskoffriendlyfire.Someofthecultistscouldbepinpointedbytheirgibberingand shrieking. They were sending entreaties to their vile deity. Arvo strained to block out the actualwords.Wordscouldbedangerous.Hecameupbehindalikelyshadow.Heslippedhisaxehaftarounditsthroatandstrangledhimwithit.Thecultisthadnotimetosqueal.Thefightlefthislimbsandhedropped.Arvowasalreadyseekingouthisnexttarget.Aknotoffigurescrouchedbehindabarricadeofpromethiumbarrels–empty,thanktheEmperor.Theyhad twogunsbetween them.Theirwielder’s faces, twistedby insanity, lit upwith each shot taken. Inthoseflashes,Arvoidentifiedtwootherfiguresascultists,fourmoreascringinghostages.Stealingup to thegroup,he interposedhimselfamong them.Onlyonecultist sawhim,shootinghimasuspiciousglare.Arvodroppedhisgazeasifcowed;justonemorehostage.Thecultist,hesaw,wasnotquiteasunarmedashehadappearedtobe.Hewaswearingabelthungwithgreymetaleggs,atleastfourofthem.Krakgrenades.Hewasmutteringtohimself,asifbuildinghisresolve.Onelasthowlofragebeforetheydie.Intheseurbansurroundings,withsomanyinnocents,hewouldcausedevastation.Arvohadnochoice.Helungedat thebomber,drivingafist intohisstomach.It tooktwomorepunches toextinguish thefervour inhiseyes.Bythen,hisfellowdecadentswerealerttotheenemyamongthem.Arvosnatchedagrenadeandroundedonthem.Theyweren’tquitereadytodieyet,afterall.Theyshrankfromhim,forasecond,longenoughforhimtotackletheclosestofthem.Hewrenchedthecultistaroundintoanother’ssightsashefired.ThecultiststiffenedinArvo’sarmsandhethrewthebodyintotheothers,atthesametimewrenchingthelasgunfromitsdeathlygrip.Thegunwaslocalissue,lighterthanArvowasaccustomedto.Itfeltgoodtoholdit,allthesame;likeanextensionofhisself.Hishandshadfeltemptyfortoolong.Hegunneddowntheremainingtwocultists,unskilledcombatants,withease.Anotherranupbehindhim,betrayinghisapproachwithafanaticalroar,andhespun–notfastenoughtobringhisguntobear,butintimetosnaphisattacker’sjawwithitsbutt,drivingbonethroughmuscle.Awaveofconcussiveforceblewhimover.Arvoheardtheexplosionafractionofasecondlater.He

stayeddownasflamingdebrisraineduponhim.Anotherbomber!Theblasthadcomefrom–hecouldn’tgethisbearings–hisright.WherehehadleftZanne.Herolled toputoutanyflamesbefore they tookhold.Smokewassmotheringhisoxygen,makinghimmisshisgasmask,blindinghimfurther–butconcealinghimtoo.Acultist,withhisbacktoArvo,strafedtheshadowswitha lasgun indiscriminately.Arvo, incontrast,squeezedhis triggeronlyonce,punchingthroughhistarget’shead.Sensingmovementtohisleft,hesnappedhisgunaround.AnInteriorGuardtrooperhadhiminhissights.Nicework,thoughtArvo.Heloweredhisweaponandgesturedtoshowhewasanally.Thesoldierheldhisfire.Hemotioned toArvo togetdownon thegroundanyway.Arvocomplied. ‘Thankyouforyourservice,citizen,’thesoldiergruntedashetookthelasgunfrombesidehim.‘We’lltakeitfromhere.’Arvowaited,butseethedimpatiently.Therecouldn’thavebeenmanycultistsstanding.Hehaddownedatleasthalfofthemhimself,whilethebombing had surely taken out more. Still, long minutes passed – interspersed with brief but violentoutbreaksof shouting, scufflingandgunshots–beforecalmwas restored.Thena lumenunithad tobefound and kicked into sputtering action. Interior Guard troopers swept the area, prodding at everyprostratebody,aliveordead,insearchofenemiesinhiding.Atlast,thesurvivors,theinnocentlabourersinArvo’sgang,weregivenleavetostand.Doubtlessnextwould come the order to return to work, as soon as Maxtell’s replacement was established. In themeantime, theyhadapreciousmoment toprocesswhathadhappened,dealwith their shockandcounttheirdead.Someattacked their tormentors’bodies,hacking themwithblunt toolsor tearing themapartwithbarehands.Itwasapointlesskindofrevenge,otherthantoventtheirmiseryandfrustration.Nobodytriedtostopthem.ArvomadestraightforthewallbehindwhichhehadleftZanne.Thewallhadbeensunderedintheexplosion.Zanne’spalehandprotrudedfromthedebrisasifshehadfoughtherfate.Asifshehadtriedtoclawherwaytofreedombeforethebreathwascrushedoutofher.Hetookthehandbetweenhisown.Itwascold.He had seen so many deaths in his short life, he told himself, so very many.Why did this one feeldifferent?Whywasherlifeworthmorethanotherlives?So, do you? He recalled the very last thing Zanne had said to him.Do you understand? Her lastquestion.Arvoansweredheraloud,asiftherewasachanceshemighthearhim.‘Yes,’hewhispered.‘Iunderstandnow.’

TheskywassplitbytheshrieksofImperialengines.Sergeant Jarvan looked up, shielding his eyes, as the first ships hit Parius’ atmosphere, blazinggloriously.Heshiftedhisgazetothevast,straight linesofhumanitystretchedacross thenewlyclearedassemblyterraceonHiveOpus’uppertier,andhischestswelledwithpride.Healmostwishedhewastravellingtothestarswiththem.Almost.Ofcourse,theirdeparturewouldleavethelabourgangsshorthanded,butthiscouldn’tbehelped.PariusMonumentus’ tithe to the Imperiumwas due and no allowance could be made for recent losses. Thelabourerswhoremainedwouldjusthavetoworkharder,untiltheirpopulationwasreplenished.Jarvanhadn’twitnessedthetithingceremonybefore.Hehadjustbeenpromoted–forthesecondtimeinlessthanfourmonths–afterhispredecessorwaskilledinabombingattack.Hestrodealongtheendlessranksofyoungmen,pausingtoquestionsome.HeaskedtheirnamesandhowtheyfeltaboutbeingchosentofightfortheEmperor,towhichallbutoneprofessedtobeingsuitablyhonoured.

ThatonegavehisnameasArvo.Thename,alongwithhispale,dull-eyedface,almostsparkedaflickerofrecognitioninJarvan.‘Beggingyourpardon,sergeant,’saidthenewrecruit,‘butIwaschosentofightalongtimeago.’JarvancheckedArvo’snameonhisdata-slate.‘SoIsee.Thelastdraftoverlookedyou,sothistimeyouvolunteeredforservice.Youachievedthehighestscoresofyourintakeinyourselectiontests–thebestscoresIhaveeverseen,infact.’‘Iknowmylife’spurposenow,’saidArvo.Jarvanraisedaneyebrow.‘Praytell?’‘IwasbredtofightandtodieforHim.’‘Anadmirableattitude.’‘IshallfacetheEmperor’senemies, therefore,withoutfearordoubt.Ishallexchangethis lifeHehasgrantedmefor thegreatestpossibleadvantage toHim.If IcanonlyadvanceHiscause in theslightest,thenIshallconsidermybriefexistenceworthwhile.Ishalldomyduty–forwhatelseisthere,afterall?’‘Whatindeed?’Jarvansmiledapprovingly.Heclaspedhishandsbehindhisbackandmovedon.The first of the dropshipswas coming in to land, to gather up its complement of soon-to-be-martyrs.Jarvanhadforgottenmostoftheirnamesalready,buthewouldrememberonenameforatime,atleast–alongwiththequestionhehadposed.Thesergeantrepeatedittohimselfinathoughtfulmutter.‘Yes.Whatelseisthere,indeed?’

ABOUTTHEAUTHOR

SteveLyons’workintheWarhammer40,000universeincludesthenovellasEnginesofWarandAngron’sMonolith,theImperialGuardnovelsIceWorldandDeadMenWalking–nowcollectedintheomnibusHonourImperialis–andtheaudiodramasWaitingDeathandTheMadnessWithin.He

hasalsowrittennumerousshortstoriesandiscurrentlyworkingonmoretalesfromthegrimdarknessofthefarfuture.

DiscovermoretalesofthegloriousAstraMilitaruminthisomnibuseditionofthreenovelsandthreeshortstoriesshowcasingthetrueheroesoftheImperium:thehumbleGuardsmen.

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ABLACKLIBRARYPUBLICATION

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ISBN:978-1-78572-705-4

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