Void Stalker by Aaron Dembski-Bowden Page A

thought. If their attackers had come to kill them, hiding in the subterranean shelters would achieve nothing beyond herding the people together like animals for the slaughter. Still, it reduced the chaos on the streets, and that made it progress of a kind.
    ‘The lockdown list, sire,’ another guard said. He wore the same bland uniform as the first, and carried a data-slate in one gloved hand. The archregent glanced at it, noting the number of shelters reporting green light lockdowns.
    ‘Very good,’ he said again. ‘If the raiders make demands, I want to be informed the moment the words have left their lips. Where is Abettor Muvo?’
    Providence answered, as Muvo entered before any of the twelve guards could reply.
    ‘Sire, the western granaries are burning.’
    The archregent closed his eyes. He said nothing.
    ‘Landers are coming down in the western districts, deploying servitors, mutants, machinery and… Throne only knows what else. They’re excavating pits and hurling the bodies of our people into the holes. ’
    ‘Have we managed to send word to the other settlements?’
    The abettor nodded. ‘Respite and Sanctum both sent acknowledgements of warnings received.’ He paused for a moment, his bloodshot eyes flicking to the scene beyond the glass dome walls. ‘Neither of them will have any better chance at defending against this than we do.’
    The archregent took a breath. ‘What of our militia?’
    ‘Some of them are gathering, others are heading into the shelters with their families. The Watchmen are organising shelter retreats. Should we call them off storm protocol?’
    ‘Not yet. Spread word through the streets that all Watchmen and militia should gather at their assigned strongholds as soon as the shelters are locked down. We have to fight back, Muvo.’
    He looked at his two guards, and cleared his throat. ‘With that in mind, might I have a weapon, young man?’
    The guard blinked. ‘I… sire?’
    ‘That pistol will do, thank you.’
    ‘Do you know how to fire it, sire?’
    The archregent forced a smile. ‘I do indeed. Now then, Muvo, I need you to… Muvo?’
    The abettor raised a shaking hand, pointing over the archregent’s shoulder. Every man in the chamber turned, facing a huge vulture silhouette in the smoke. The dome was dense enough to drown out all sound, b ut the amber flare of the gunship’s engines cast myriad reflections across the reinforced glass. They watched it rise higher, an avian wraith in the mist, until it hovered above the dome’s ceiling. Fire washed down against the dome, spilling liquid-like over the surface, beautiful to behold from below.
    The archregent saw the gunship’s maw open, a ramp lowering into the air, and two figures fall from the sky. A flash of gold from one of their hands speared downward, splitting the dome with brutal cracks from the impaling point.
    Both figures’ boots struck the cracks as they fell, shattering the dome’s ceiling in a storm of glass. Razor diamonds rained into the centre of the chamber, coupling with the breathy roar of the gunship’s engines, no longer held silent by the transparent barrier.
    The figures fell twenty metres before thudding down onto the deck with enough force to send tremors through the chamber. For a moment, they knelt in the dent they’d caused, crouched in their impact crater with their heads lowered. Glass hailstones broke almost musically against their armour.
    Then they rose. One held an oversized chainsword, the other a golden blade. They moved in predatory unison, animalistic without intent, walking towards the desk. Each of their steps was a resonating thump of ceramite on iron.
    Both of the archregent’s guards opened fire. In the same moment, both armoured warriors threw their weapons. The first died as the golden sword speared him through the chest, dropping him to the floor in a twitching heap. The second went down as the chainsword smashed into his face and torso, the live teeth eating into