If their business is
sufficiently important, visitors to the hallowed factorum complex at
Battersump may be admitted to the grand audience platform of the Holy
and Esoteric Alliance of Thermaticists, where the guilders themselves
hold court. Degister had been there only once before, for a branding
ceremony to ratify his appointment as the H.E.A.T.'s prime
Comptroller in Sector H8. Now, at his overlords' command, here he was
again.
As it had that first
time, the cavernous, red-lit chamber made Degister's head spin and
guts churn. The platform was suspended hundreds of metres above the
four colossal vent-gates that connected to the great central heat
sink of Hive Primus, and, like all visitors, the Comptroller had been
obliged to don a respirator and thick asbestoline robes to ward off
the ambient temperature's lethal edge. Even so, it was surely hot
enough to make a Goliath furnace-grunt sweat bullets.
The air between the
platform and the distant sides of the chamber rippled with mesmeric
intensity; Degister had heard wild tales of how cryptic mirages rich
with dark omens might be glimpsed there - enough to drive a hiver
mad. This was, of course, largely from the prattling of chem-raddled
scummers, but why take the risk? He kept his eyes fixed straight
ahead as he moved from spotlight to spotlight along the thick
ceramite decking.
Up ahead, hunched on a
semicircular bank of mech-works, were the H.E.A.T. guilders
themselves. There were four of them, shrouded in shadow and swaddled
with bulky asbestoline. What little could be seen of the beings
beneath the robes was heavily augmeticised, and tangles of wire and
tubing connected them not only to the mech-bank on which they sat,
but also to each other.
As he approached,
Degister convinced himself that his discomfort was entirely physical.
After all, the guilders had every reason to be well pleased with his
performance in managing the H.E.A.T.'s affairs. The Hellhounds, Krass
Dynasty and Wasted Youth were doing a spire-straight job of flexing
their muscles in the Hacked Knee. Never mind the unfortunate
breakdown in solidarity with the Church of the Amethyst Emperor –
in the end, what does a few more dead muties matter? Turf had been
claimed and supply lines secured. What's more, it was H.E.A.T. agents
who'd eliminated the the Ba'King's escaped ambull and ended its
threat to H8 infrastructure (Degsiter had little time for spurious
rumours that it had been a lowly Van Saar juve that had killed the
monster. Preposterous). In all, the rival energy guilds had good
reason to fear and respect their thermaticist brothers.
There was a swagger in
Degister's step as he came to a halt. 'Good cycle to you, milords,'
his voice crackled through his respirator vox as he bowed. 'How can I
be of service?'
The voice of the
H.E.A.T. pulsed forth. It was impossible to tell which guilder it was
that spoke, and the environmental extremity of the chamber rendered
their utterance as roiling thunder.
+++ EXPLAIN YOURSELF,
COMPTROLLER +++
This wrongfooted
Degister straight off.
'Milords? I'm – I'm
not sure I scan you rightly...'
+++ THE AGENTS YOU HAVE
EMPLOYED +++
'What about them?
They've been serving us well,' said Degister.
+++ TERRITORIAL GAINS
THROUGHOUT SECTOR H8 HAVE BEEN MORE THAN SATISFACTORY +++
'You bet they have!'
said Degister. 'I hired the best men this side of Dust Falls, and
they've been getting-'
+++ HOWEVER +++
'However? However
what?'
+++ THE BA'KINGS AND
WIND SORE CLAN OFFER SUBSTANTIAL BOUNTIES ON THE GANG LEADERS VOKRAN
AND KRASS +++
'So fragging what?'
said Degister. 'Er, so what, milords? It's nothing but sour shrooms
from them. Their operatives aren't doing so well so they play this
move. It's to be expected.'
+++ YET WE HAVE
RECEIVED REPORTS THAT THE AFOREMENTIONED GANG LEADERS HAVE +++
DEVIANT TENDENCIES +++ FOUL PROCLIVITIES +++ GENE TAINT +++
'So I hired some nasty
fraggers, so what?' said Degister, tugging at his robes uneasily.
'That's what gets the job done. As you said yourself, more than
satisfactory. Sumpdamned good, I'd say.'
+++ AND YET +++ SHOULD
THE REPORTS PROVE TRUE +++
'Milords, they're
independent agents! What they do in the cycles they're not running
for us is their business!'
+++ WE DOUBT THAT
HELMAWR'S ENFORCER-DOGS WOULD AGREE +++
Degister didn't have an
answer for this.
+++ OUR LABOURS MUST
NOT BE DISTURBED +++ WE WILL NOT TOLERATE THE SULLYING OF OUR
REPUTATION +++ RESTRAIN THE BEASTS YOU HAVE UNLEASHED +++ OR FACE THE
CONSEQUENCES +++ YOU ARE DISMISSED +++
The Comptroller didn't
need telling twice. He muttered a grovelling affirmation, and then
turned and bustled back down the decking, drenched in sweat.
Sweat borne of fear and
sweat borne of H.E.A.T.