Part 30 (1/2)

*Then the Astartes do not come to aid us at all,' protested Maximal. *They seek to secure their own supplies of weapons and armour! Intolerable!'

*Agreed,' said Zeth. *We need the Astartes if we are to defeat Kelbor-Hal's minions.'

*Captain Sigismund has a.s.sured me that once the armour and weapon production facilities are secured, his warriors will come to your aid.'

*Then let us hope they are swift in their conquests,' said Zeth.

*Indeed,' said Kane, either missing or ignoring her caustic tone. *In the meantime, do all you can to hold on. Help is on the way and I will exload information to you both as I receive it. Good luck and may the Machine-G.o.d guide you.'

The image of Kane faded from the gla.s.s, and Zeth returned her attention to the scenes of war and death inloading from all across Mars.

Adept Maximal remained as a ghostly presence flickering from the burnished plate above her, and Zeth regarded him quizzically.

*You have something to add, Maximal?'

*Ts there any word from your wayward protege?'

Beneath her mask, Koriel Zeth smiled. Even with his forge besieged and facing destruction, Ipluvien Maximal still hungered for knowledge.

Zeth shook her head. *No. Rho-mu 31's biometrics ceased transmitting somewhere in the Noctis Labyrinthus and I can find no trace of them. I fear he may be dead.'

*So Dalia Cythera is probably dead as well?' asked Kane.

*That is probable, yes.'

Maximal's sigh of disappointment matched her own.

THE INTERIOR OF the tunnel was not dark as Dalia had feared, but alive with a soft illumination. The rock itself glowed, as though carrying some form of bioluminescent current. The air was cold and their breath misted before them as Rho-mu 31 led the way. The tunnel was narrow, its cross-section like that of a leaf-shaped arch, and they were forced to travel in single file as it sloped ever deeper into the planet's surface.

Dalia reached out and touched the walls to either side of her; they were warm and though they looked smooth, she felt minute imperfections in the surface, as though a million tiny picks had chipped away at them.

They walked for what felt like an age, winding through serpentine pa.s.sages and multi-coloured galleries of translucent stalagmites, and across glittering bridges of smooth crystal. Dalia wondered what manner of internal geological transformation could alter so great a portion of the subterranean landscape.

*What could cause something like this?' she asked, making the question sound light.

*Geological metamorphosis I'd imagine,' said Zouche. *Aeons of pressure and heat can cause some rock types to change their state. Looks like that's what's happened here.'

No, realised Dalia, that's not it at all. It's something buried here that's leaching outwards.

She said nothing and continued to follow Rho-mu 31 as the internal illumination of the rock began to recede behind them and their little group bunched up around the solitary light from the Protector's weapon stave.

At length, Rho-mu 31 held up his hand, halting their group.

*Do you hear that?'

Dalia could hear nothing at first, but as they all came to a halt and slowed their breathing, she could make out the faint sound of movement.

*What do you think it is?' asked Caxton.

Rho-mu 31 shrugged. *I don't know. I didn't think anything remained here.'

*Well we didn't come this far to turn back,' said Dalia, easing past Rho-mu 31 and heading towards the sound with more confidence than she felt. Her heart beat loudly in her chest and she squinted as she saw a bright light from up ahead.

Dalia emerged into a wide laboratory chamber, carved from the rock of the cliffs and roughly rectangular in shape. One wall was festooned with thousands of colourful sheets of parchment like a children's collage, and at the far end of the chamber was a darkened pa.s.sageway. Bare girders of red iron supported the ceiling, from which dangled a host of gently swaying cables, some inert, some twisting with fizzing sparks.

Against one wall was a surgical table, surrounded by banks of respirators, intravenous drips and a number of steel tables laden with unpleasant-looking machinery. Next to this was a complex device that resembled a giant rock drill, with mechanisms formed from stained bra.s.s and tarnished steel. Rust plated its sides and gla.s.s generator globes sat atop looping coils of rigid golden wire. A silver wheel-like apparatus sat on a conical mount at the front of the device, each of its four spokes fitted with a small emitter dish.

Each of the dishes was aimed at an upright slab on the far wall with the imprinted shadow of a human body upon it and leather straps at the wrists, ankles and neck.

*Now this just can't be good,' said Caxton.

Dalia paid the device no mind, walking over to examine the parchment sc.r.a.ps on the wall.

*What are these?' wondered Severine, plucking one from the wall and handing it to Dalia.

The parchment was glossy and depicted a human silhouette limned with a rainbow of colours. Reds, greens and blues danced around the subject's body, but Dalia saw that on the right arm, the colours faded from the elbow down, as though the strength of whatever was producing the colours had faded.

*I'm not sure,' replied Dalia. *Some kind of electrography?'

She made her way along the length of the wall, seeing hundreds of pictures, all displaying elements of human bodies with glowing, colourful auras surrounding them. Like the first picture, each silhouette showed a loss in colour at one extremity, be it a leg, arm or a head.

*I don't like this,' said Zouche as he examined the machine. *Reeks of dark technology. Forgotten science. Like the kind that almost destroyed mankind before Old Night.'

*You don't even know what this does,' said Caxton, stepping in front of the silver wheel.

*Don't stand there!' shouted Dalia, dropping the image she held.

*What? Why not?' asked Caxton. *I don't think this machine's worked in centuries. There's nothing to worry about.'

*Ha!' said Severine. *The last time you said that we almost died when that battle robot attacked the mag-lev.'

Caxton shook his head, but moved away from the strange machine, smiling at Zouche as the machinist examined what looked like a steel control panel with a number of gem-like b.u.t.tons, a bra.s.s radial dial and a long lever.

*I think you're wrong about that, Caxton,' said Zouche. *This panel hasn't got a spot of rust or dust on it. I think someone's used this machine quite recently.'

*And you would be right,' said a cracked voice, ancient and thick with age.

Dalia spun to see Rho-mu 31 with his weapon stave aimed at a hooded adept in dark robes emerging from the pa.s.sageway at the far end of the chamber.

*Oh yes, you would be right,' continued the adept. *Happy day that you come to me! I had all but given up hope of anyone ever arriving!'

*Who are you?' demanded the Protector, igniting the tip of his weapon stave as a hulking servitor emerged from the shadows to stand beside the adept. The servitor was bulky with augmetics, one arm replaced with a hissing, wheezing power claw, the other with an oversized chainblade.

The adept drew back his hood and Dalia gasped as she saw his gaunt features, wild eyes and thin sc.r.a.ps of bone-white hair. His flesh shone with mercurial light, as though glittering fire filled his veins instead of blood, and upon his forehead she saw a s.h.i.+ning electoo of a diminis.h.i.+ng spiral with a stylised set of wings to either side.

The mark of the Dragon.