Pillier came forwards into the light from a glass-shaded desk lamp and pulled a map of the Sagorrah depot from under the morass of files.
There were small red dots littering the map, denoting areas where incidents of violence and discord had been reported according to severity and frequency. Pillier had been busy. Culcis didn’t realise they were quite so late, but swallowed his shame and concentrated on the map.
‘Can you see something in it, lieutenant?’ asked the major. ‘A pattern, perhaps?’
‘I see a void,’ he said, not looking up. He pressed his finger against a section of map which had an absence of dots. ‘Who resides in this part of the camp?’
Regara had a list of where the billets had been assigned and to whom. He was smiling, a smug grin affecting his noble countenance.
‘It’s the Kauth.’
The rest of the room stayed silent, awaiting Culcis’s reaction.
‘The Longstriders? But they aided us out in the slums, saved our collective arses, major.’
Regara dropped the list on top of the map and leaned in. ‘Facts are, there’s no way insurgents could get so close to the promethium wells without help. What we saw with the Harpine, the way they were turned, and Vengo...’ Regara let that one float a little before he went on, ‘Someone in this camp is opening the door for these attacks.’
‘And the Kauth are suspects because they’re not affected?’
‘It is because they are not affected that suggests they can operate even in the same conditions that are debilitating every other man jack in this stinking cesspit! How else do you do that unless you are the ones propagating the taint?’
Culcis frowned. ‘But we are also still ourselves, sir.’
Regara straightened and pushed out his chest. ‘We are Volpone, lieutenant. We are not like the dogs shackled to this gnarled stick of an outpost. Our breeding and superior training keeps us immune.’
‘Tell that to Vengo, sir.’
The major flushed with anger but mastered it quickly. He seized his lapel and pulled on it, exposing the rust rime to the light. ‘It is this, and this,’ he added, showing the scum on his boot. ‘The air is filled with it, the entire camp polluted by something as pervasive as the sand in the desert. We have been here for a matter of days, lieutenant. The Kauth have been in the reserve for much longer than that. They should be as crazed as the rest of the Guard.’
The smile returned. It was as if all of Regara’s private theories and suspicions about the feral regiment had been suddenly and conclusively confirmed.
‘It has to be them,’ he said.
Culcis wasn’t so sure but kept it to himself. Instead he said, ‘The mood in the camp is reaching fever pitch. Drado and I were almost attacked walking from the mess hall to the billet. It was why we were so late.’
Regara’s eyes narrowed and his smile thinned to a mirthless flat line. ‘I’m sending thirty men to the Kauth billet. We’ll apprehend these traitors ourselves since Arbettan is evidently incapable.’
‘Only thirty?’ asked Culcis. ‘The Longstriders are scum but they are skilled in the art of killing. Thirty men would put us at roughly equal strength.’
‘Have some backbone, lieutenant!’ snapped the major. ‘You are Volpone, more than the equal of any man in the Guard, especially a ragged band of savages like the Kauth. Besides,’ he added, calming down, ‘we can’t risk a show of greater strength. If the camp is as volatile as you say it might spark a reaction we can’t control easily.’
Culcis nodded his acceptance.
‘Lieutenant,’ said Regara, ‘I want you and Sergeant Pillier to take three squads to the Kauth billet and bring them all back here – under force of arms if necessary – for interrogation. Take Speers with you, too.’ The corporal smiled. It put Culcis in mind of a gore-shark. ‘His ruthless streak is bound to come in useful.’
‘Ever since we met, I’ve wanted to scrag a few of those savages, sir,’ he said, blissfully ignorant of the irony in his words.
‘Right here, lieutenant,’ said Regara, ignoring the bloodthirsty corporal, and prodding the area of the map where the Kauth were located. ‘Take all necessary steps to apprehend them,’ he warned. ‘All necessary steps.’
Speers tossed Culcis a lasgun from the armoury, and the lieutenant caught it deftly, checked the power gauge and shouldered it before taking his leave.
Sergeant Pillier and Corporal Drado followed close behind.
Speers lingered a little at a glance from his commanding officer.
‘Make sure he follows through on this,’ whispered the major. ‘Bloody the dogs if you have to, but bring them here to me.’
Nodding, the corporal then turned on his heel and went after Culcis and the others.
The Longstrider billet was deserted. It sat at the edge of Sagorrah Depot in a pitch that was little more than a scrap of barren earth. It was a contrast in styles to the opulence of the Volpone’s billet, particularly Major Regara’s accommodations. Scattered tents and doused cook fires defined the space. It was untidy and ragged, just like the men stationed there. The emptiness, its isolation from the rest of the camp only added to the eeriness of the place.
Once he was certain there was no one around, Culcis investigated further. He saw totems, fetishes, trophy racks and other disturbing evidence of the Kauth’s feral nature, littered throughout the billet. And there was blood too, dark streaks like pronounced veins webbing the sand having dried in the sun. The metallic stink was as pervasive here as it was anywhere in Sagorrah.
‘Doesn’t look like anyone’s home,’ said Drado as he and Culcis were exiting their third empty tent. Speers, from another part of the billet, came jogging over to them. The Volpone had fanned out, tackling the area in teams of two and three, checking each and every one of the thirty or so tents pegged around the billet.
‘Something isn’t right,’ the corporal hissed.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Culcis. ‘What is it?’
‘We’re being watched. I can feel it.’
Sociopathic as he probably was, Culcis had also learned to trust Speers’s instincts over their years of service together. The man had a knack for sniffing out trouble, as well as finding and creating it.
‘All right,’ he said, scanning the shadows at the edge of the billet, seeking enemies but finding none. ‘Tell Sergeant Pillier and have him alert the men. We’ll turn this sorry hole inside out if needed.’ Culcis was reminded of the feeling he’d had walking past the tankers, the sense of impending violence.
Speers nodded and got about halfway to Pillier when a shout came from one of the other troopers. The Longstriders had returned and were making their way back to the billet in force.
‘Greetings, Volpone,’ said Hauke, extending a hand and giving Culcis a warm smile.
The lieutenant refused it and kept his arms by his sides.
‘You never returned from the slums that first time we saw you, did you?’
Hauke shrugged, affecting a placid, easy mood. His men, now fully arrived in the billet and squaring off against the Bluebloods in packs, were entirely more restive. ‘It seemed a shame to leave so soon. Much more to find, Volpone.’
‘Your insolence is reason enough for your being apprehended,’ Culcis told him, ‘but Major Regara has some questions for you concerning another matter.’
‘Oh yes? Tell me Volpone, what questions are these?’ A flicker of annoyance marred Hauke’s feigned bonhomie. Both the Kauth and the Volpone tensed, anticipating trouble.
‘That’s for the major to tell you, sir. You need to come with us. Right now.’
‘And if we don’t?’