Yes, whatever that is. Guest of the lodge or not, he's not welcome on my ship. He's the key. If we find him, we can expose what's going on to the Warmaster and end this,’
'You really believe that?'
'I don't know, but that won't stop me trying,’
Torgaddon looked around him, stirring the ashes of the charred books on the shelves with a finger and said, Why did you have to meet me here? It smells like a funeral pyre,’
'Because no one ever comes here,’ said Loken.
'I can't imagine why, seeing as how pleasant it is,’
'Don't be flippant, Tarik, not now. The Great CruВsade was once about bringing illumination to the far corners of the galaxy, but now it is afraid of knowledge. The more we learn, the more we quesВtion and the more we question the more we see through the lies perpetrated upon us. To those who want to control us, books are dangerous,’
'Iterator Loken,’ laughed Torgaddon, 'you've enlightened me,’
'I had a good teacher,’ said Loken, again thinking of Kyril Sindermann, and the fact that everything he
had been taught to believe was being shaken to its core. 'And there's more at stake here than a split between Astartes. It's… It's philosophy, ideology, religion even… everything. Kyril taught me that this kind of blind obedience is what led to the Age of Strife. We've crossed the galaxy to bring peace and illumination, but the cause of our downfall could be right here amongst us.'
Torgaddon leaned over and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. 'Listen, we're about to go into battle on Isstvan III and the word from the Death Guard is that the enemy is led by some kind of psyВchic monsters that can kill with a scream. They're not the enemy because they read the wrong books or anything like that; they're the enemy because the Warmaster tells us they are. Forget about all this for a while. Go and fight. That'll put some perspective on things,’
'Do you even know if we'll be headed down there?'
'The Warmaster's picked the squads for the speartip. We're in it, and it looks as if we'll be in charge, too.'
'Really? After all that's happened?
'I know, but I won't look a gift horse in the mouth,’
At least I'll have the Tenth with me,’
Torgaddon shook his head. 'Not quite. The War-master hasn't chosen the speartip by company. It's squad by squad,’
'Why?'
'Because he thinks that confused look on your face is funny,’
'Please. Be serious, Tarik,’
Torgaddon shrugged. The Warmaster knows what he's doing. It won't be an easy battle. We'll be dropВping right on top of the city,’
What about Locasta?'
'You'll have them. I don't think you could have held Vipus back anyway. You know what he's like, he'd have stowed away on a drop-pod if he'd been left out. He's like you, he needs to clear his head with a good dose of fighting. After Isstvan things will get back to normal,’
'Good. I'll feel a lot better with Locasta backing us up,’
'Well, it's true that you need the help,’ smiled TorВgaddon.
Loken chuckled, not because Torgaddon was actually funny, but because even after everything he was still the same, a person that he could trust and a friend he could rely on.
You're right, Tarik,’ said Loken. 'After Isstvan everything will be different,’
The central apothecarion gleamed with glass and steel, dozens of medical cells branching off from the circular hub of the main laboratory. Tarvitz felt a chill travel the length of his spine as he saw Captain Odovocar's ruined body susВpended in a stasis tank, waiting for its gene-seed to be harvested.
Eidolon marched through the hub and down a tiled corridor that led into a gilded vestibule domiВnated by a huge mosaic depicting Fulgrim's victory at Tarsus, where the primarch had vanquished the deceitful eldar despite his many grievous wounds. Eidolon reached up and pressed one of the enamВelled chips that formed Fulgrim's belt, standing back as the mosaic arced upwards, revealing a glowВing passageway and winding spiral staircase beyond. Eidolon strode down the passageway, indiВcating that Tarvitz should follow him.
The lack of ornamentation was a contrast to the rest of the Andronius and Tarvitz saw a cold blue glow emanating from whatever lay below as he made his way down the stairs. As they reached the end of their descent, Eidolon turned to him and said, This, Captain Tarvitz, is your answer.'
The blue light shone from a dozen ceiling-high translucent cylinders that stood against the sides of the room. Each was filled with liquid with indisВtinct shapes suspended in them – some roughly humanoid, some more like collections of organs or body parts. The rest of the room was taken up by gleaming laboratory benches covered in equipВment, some with purposes he couldn't even begin to guess at.
He moved from tank to tank, repulsed as he saw that some were full of monstrously bloated flesh that was barely contained by the glass.
"What is this?' asked Tarvitz in horror at such grotesque sights.
'I fear my explanations would be insufficient,' said Eidolon, walking towards an archway leading into the next room. Tarvitz followed him, peering more closely at the cylinders as he passed. One conВtained an Astartes-sized body, but not a corpse, more like something that had never been born, its features sunken and half-formed.
Another cylinder contained only a head, but one which had large, multi-faceted eyes like an insect. As he looked closer, Tarvitz realised with sick horВror mat the eyes had not been grafted on, for he saw no scars and the skull had reshaped itself to accomВmodate them. They had been grown there. He moved on to the last cylinder, seeing a mass of brains linked by fleshy cables held in liquid susВpension, each one with extra lobes bulging like tumours.
Tarvitz felt a profound chill coming from the next room, its walls lined with refrigerated metal cabiВnets. He briefly wondered what was in them, but decided he didn't want to know as his imagination conjured all manner of deformities and mutations. A single operating slab filled the centre of the room, easily large enough for an Astartes warrior to be restrained upon, with a chirargeon device mounted on the ceiling above.
Neatly cut sections of muscle fibre were spread across the slab. Apothecary Fabius bent over them, the hissing probes and needles of his narthecium embedded in a dark mass of glistening meat.
'Apothecary,’ said Eidolon, 'the captain wishes to know of our enterprise,’
Fabius looked up in surprise, his long intelligent face framed by a mane of fine blond hair. Only his eyes were out of place, small and dark, set into his skull like black pearls. He wore a floor-length med-icae gown, blood streaking its pristine whiteness with runnels of crimson.
'Really?' said Fabius. 'I had not been made aware that Captain Tarvitz was among our esteemed comВpany,’
'He is not,’ said Eidolon. 'Not yet anyway,’
'Then why is he here?'
'My own alterations have come to light,’
'Ah, I see,’ nodded Fabius.
What is going on here?' asked Tarvitz sharply. 'What is this place?'
Fabius cocked an eyebrow. 'So you have seen the results of the commander's augmentations, have you?'
'Is he a psyker?' demanded Tarvitz.
'No, no, no!' laughed Fabius. 'He is not. The lord commander's abilities are the result of a tracheal implant combined with alteration in the gene-seed rhythms. He is something of a success. His powers are metabolic and chemical, not psychic,’
You have altered the geneseed?' breathed Tarvitz in shock. The gene-seed is the blood of our primarch… When he discovers what you are doing here…'
'Don't be naive, captain,’ said Fabius. Who do you think ordered us to proceed?'
'No,’ said Tarvitz. 'He wouldn't-' That is why I had to show you this, captain,’ said Eidolon. 'You remember the Cleansing of Laeran?' 'Of course,’ answered Tarvitz. 'Our primarch saw what the Laer had achieved by chemical and genetic manipulation of their biologВical structure in their drive for physical perfection. The Lord Fulgrim has great plans for our Legion, Tarvitz, the Emperor's Children cannot be content to sit on their laurels while our fellow Astartes win the same dull victories. We must continue to strive towards perfection, but we are fast reaching the point where even an Astartes cannot match the standards Lord Fulgrim and the Warmaster demand. To meet those standards, we must change. We must evolve,’