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'Of course it is；' I sighed again。 'But now would be a good time。
He got on his vox…link and after a lot of effort； managed to get a channel open to the section house。
'You're on to something； aren't you？' Roban asked me。
'Maybe。'
'The —'
'The what？'
'No offence。 Your reputation precedes you。'
'Does it now？ In a good way？'
Roban grinned and shook his head； like a man who might have heard something； but who had decided to make up his own mind。
'IT'S AN OLD type…ten conical void；' Arbites Commander Lucius reported presently。 'Tangent eight…seven…eight harmonic wave。 We
don't have an override code。 Lady Lange wouldn't permit it。'
'I bet she wishes she had now；' said Interrogator Inshabel； caustic and to the point once again。 I was beginning to like him。
'Thank you； Luckless；' I said。
'It's… Lucius； sir。'
'I know。'
I tried to remember everything Aemos had counselled me about shields over the years。 I wished I had his recall。 Better still； I wished I
had him here。
'We can collapse it；' I said； with fair confidence。
'Collapse a void shield？' Roban asked。
'It's conical… super…surface only。 And it's old。 Voids shrug off just about anything； but they don't retain their field if you take out one
or more of the projectors。
'That buttress there； the one the garden wall is built around； that's got to be one of the projector units； seated down into the ground。'
Roban nodded； apparently impressed。 'I see the logic； but not the practice。'
I walked over to Brother…Sergeant Kurvel； interrupting his conversation with Heldane without apology； and explained what I wanted
to do。
Heldane scoffed at once。 'Lyko's already trying that！'
'How？'
'He's located the outer controls at the front gate and is trying to break their coding…'
'Coding and controls that will be dead and locked out thanks to Esarhaddon。 Lyko's wasting his time。 We can't switch this off。 We
can't break Esarhaddon's control over its system。 But we can undermine the system itself。'
Heldane was about to speak again； but Voke shut him up。
'I think Gregor may be on to something。'
'Why？'
Voke pointed。 Close to five hundred citizens were now advancing towards us from streets on all sides。
'Because as you pointed out； Heldane； the monster can hear us； and he clearly doesn't like the sound of this plan。'
IT TOOK KURVEL about ten minutes to gouge out the pavement and a section of garden wall with his lightning claw； and all the while
we were under attack from the growing mob of puppets。
'Sewer！' Kurvel announced。
I turned to the others as shots and missiles rained down。 'Commodus… you have to hold them off a while longer。'
'Count on it；' he said。
'Roban； get a small squad and follow me。'
Heldane wasn't happy。 But by then； Heldane wasn't calling the shots any more。 I believe he took his rage out on the enslaved citizens。
I DROPPED INTO the sewer hole with Kurvel； Roban； Inshabel and three troopers of the Interior Guard。 The defence on the street above
could barely spare any of them。
The filthy sewer tube went in under the wall itself before dropping sharply away。 Old； patched stone swelled around the base of the
buttress。 The stone was warm； and foamy clumps of fungus were growing on it。
Inshabel trained a spotbeam in so I could see。
Kurvel could see in the dark。 He took out his last two krak grenades and fixed them to the stonework with smears of adhesive paste
from a tube he carried in his pack。
'I wish we had more。 We could blow the wall right through。'
'We could； brother…sergeant； but this might be better。'
'Why？'
'Because if we can simply make this projector fail； the energies of the shield will short out before they collapse。 Rather than blowing
outwards； that'll cause an electromagnetic pulse within the field itself。 And I think an EM pulse is the last thing Esarhaddon wants
right now。'
As if to prove my suspicions right； a stabbing sheet of psychic power lashed at us。 Esarhaddon had realised his vulnerability； and was
turning his immense power on us now。 The puppets had been sport； but now it was time to control or blast out the minds of his hunters
before they stopped being playthings and became a danger。
The psyker attack was devastating。 Two of the Interior guardsmen simply died。 Another started firing； hitting Kurvel twice and
wounding Inshabel。 Regretfully； Roban blasted the trooper down with his laspistol。
Our minds were harder to attack； especially given the shield formed by the rock above us and our proximity to the energy flux of the
shield。
But Roban； Inshabel； Kurvel and I would be dead or homicidal in seconds。
How I wished for Alizebeth； or any of the Distaff right then。
'Trigger it！ Trigger it！' I gasped； the blood vessels in my nose and throat opening yet again that day。
'We're right on top of the—'
'Just do it； brother…sergeant！ In the name of the God…Emperor！'
THE BLAST TOOK out the projector。 It filled the sewer tunnel with flickering destruction。 It would have killed us but for the fact that
Brother…Sergeant Kurvel shielded us with his massive armoured body。
It cost him his life。
I have made a point to have his name and memory celebrated by the Primarch of the White Consuls。
WITH THE GENERATING projector killed； the void shield collapsed in on itself； blacking out the palace systems with the thunderclap of
electromagnetic rage。
Blacking out Esarhaddon's seething mind too。
My research into untouchables； through Alizebeth and then through the Distaff she created and ran； had indicated to me that perhaps
psychic power； no matter how potent； relied in the final analysis on the electrical workings of the human mind； the firing of impulse
charges between synapses。 Untouchables somehow blanked this； and triggered a disturbing and disarming vacancy in the natural and
fundamental processes of the human brain。 That； I had initially concluded； was why psykers don't work around untouchables… and
why forgetfulness and unease is prevalent in their company。 And； ultimately； why they disturb and upset humans so； and psykers
doubly so。
I'd turned the old void shield into a brief； bright untouchable event。
And now； Emperor damn him； the heretic psyker Esarhaddon； temporarily rendered deaf； blind and mute； was mine。
EIGHT
ESARHADDON？S LAIR。
LYKO THE VICTOR。
A VESTIGE。
WE WENT INTO the grounds of the Lange palace over the wall。 There was a harsh stink of ozone from the ruptured shield； and the
trimmed fruit trees and laraebur hedges of the gardens were singed and smouldering。
With Roban and Inshabel； I ran down a flint…chip path between the servants' wing and the east portico。 Flashlights and under…muzzle
torches bobbed in the gardens behind us as Heldane led the main force of our troop round to the garden terrace。
The house was dead and dark； all power killed by the pulse。 The main doors on the east portico lay splintered on the mosaic floor
where the accompanying wave of overpressure from the void collapse had blown them in。 All of the windows were smashed holes too。
Photo…receptors and climate controls in the portico's polished blue…wood panels were fused and charred。 Smoke and the glow of
flames issued from deeper in the palace。
We pushed further in； finding dead house staff and inert servitors。 A whole suite of state rooms on the first floor was burning where
ornate promethium lamps had been knocked over。
We checked the rooms on each side as we progressed。 Roban led the way； sweeping his braced laspistol from side to side。
'How long？' Inshabel asked me。
'Until？'
'Until he recovers from the pulse？'
I didn't know。 There was no telling how badly we'd hurt Esarhaddon； or how resilient his mind was。 We hadn't got long。
On the second floor； a flight of aethercite steps brought us up into a grand banqueting hall。 The roof； a turtleback of toughened glass；
had fallen in and the psi…storms crackled and surged in the sky far above。 Every step crunched glass or disturbed debris。
There were bodies here too； the bodies of nobility and servants intermingled。
I heard movement and sobbing from an adjoining antechamber。
The wretched occupants of the room gasped in terror as our flashlights found them。 A handful of survivors from the household；
cowering in fear in the dark。 Many displayed signs of psychic burns or telekinetic welts。
'Imperial Inquisition；' I said firmly but quietly。 'Stay calm。 Where is Esarhaddon？'
Some flinched or moaned at the sound of the name。 A regal dowager in a torn pearlescent gown curled up in the corner and began
weeping。
'Quickly… there's little time！ Where is he？' I thought to use my will to spur them into an answer； but their minds had been tortured
enough already that night。 Even a mild mental probe might kill some of them。
'W…when the lights went out； he ran… ran towards the west exit；' said a blood…soaked man dressed in what I presumed was the
uniform of the House Lange bodyguard。
'Can you show us？'
'My leg's broken…'
'Someone else then！ Please！'
'Frewa… you go。 Frewa！' The bodyguard gestured to a terrified page boy crouching behind a column。
'Come on； lad； show us the way；' Roban said encouragingly。
The boy got to his feet； his eyes white with fear。 I wasn't sure if he was more afraid of Esarhaddon or the inquisitors looming over
him。
A COMMUNICATING HALLWAY ran from the rear of the banquet hall west towards the house's private landing platform。 Specks of blood
and glass twinkled along its tiled floor。
I felt what seemed to me a breath of wind on my skin。 An exit to the outside； perhaps？
Heavy blast shutters were prised open in the entrance to the gloomy loading dock。 Past the shadowy shapes of several slumped；
dormant cargo servitors； stood a main hatchway through which cold exterior light flickered。
My weapon raised； I waved Roban and Inshabel round to the right。 The page boy cowered back in the doorway。 The air quality was
changing； as if the atmosphere itself was stiffening and drawing tight。 Like some great force gathering its breath。
Esarhaddon was recovering； I was certain。
Livid green light suddenly bathed the loading dock； a psychometric flare accompanying a burst of savage psionic power。 Roban and I
staggered； our lungs squeezed and fingers of telekinesis thrusting at our minds。 Inshabel cried out as he was bowled over from behind
by the page boy； Frewa。 Dull…eyed and frothing at the mouth； the boy had been reduced； in an instant； to a mindless puppet。 Inshabel
fought； but the boy was feral； and despite the interrogator's superior bulk he was pinned。
The pain in my head was intense； but I knew Esarhaddon must still be way below full strength。 I raised the strongest mind shield my
abilities were able to conjure and moved forward。
There was a sudden grind of servo…gears。 A large steel paw swung at my head and I dived back。
A cargo servitor； its metal carapace caked with verdigris； rose up to its full height of three metres and clanked across the deck towards
me on squat hydraulic legs。 Plumes of steam squirted from its broad shoulder joints as it pistoned its arms at me again。 Hot yellow
dots of light burned in the eye sockets of its dented visor。
Despite its mechanical appearance； the cargo drone； like all servitors； was built around human organic components： brain； brain…stem；
neural network； glands so Esarhaddon could control it just like a standard human。
It swung at me again； and missed。 The slicing limb had cut the air with a distinct whistle。
It was built like a great simian： squat legs； barrel chest； wide shoulders and long； thick arms。 Ideal for hefting heavy cargo items into
the belly…hold of a liftship。
Ideal for smashing a human body into gory paste。
Roban cried out a warning。 A second； larger cargo servitor with a long quadruped body； was also moving。 Its body casing was pitted；
brown metal and it had a fork…lifter assembly where its head should have been； giving it the appearance of a bull。 The greased black
forks of the lifter lurched at Roban； who fired six or seven shots that dented or bounced off the machine's chassis。
I ducked two more slow； heavy blows from the ape…servitor。 We were losing precious time。 With every tick of the clock； Esarhaddon
was recovering and becoming more powerful。
I put a bolt round into the thickest part of the servitor's body and rocked it back； the gears and pistons of its l