Provincial Governor Jaeger, Governor of Suwanee Province, direct representative of the Imperial Commander, died in his sleep, peacefully, quietly, easily. Or course he was just as dead as if his body had been ripped to a thousand pieces and devoured by a hundred daemons from the Eye of Terror. At least this way his family would have something to bury in the family crypt. His death was almost natural, aided only by the pillow held firmly and forcefully over his face for a minute or so until his breathing stopped. He was certainly dead, but there are much worse ways to die.

**********

Inquisitor Roberto Brake and his entourage had a lot in common with the temporary People’s Guard headquarters in Pleasant Hill. In spite of brave repairs, both showed the unmistakable signs of recent action. The headquarters, the former home of the Bureau of Information and Education, has some spots high up where craters in the stone-work had not been repaired and, although the areas scared by fire had been repaired and repainted, the newness of the work contrasted completely with the aged patina and general air of grim foreboding of the rest of the building. The stench of unburied corpses and burning hung over the city, penetrating the smell of new paint and hot asphalt. If anything the building, site of bitter fighting during the recent uprising, appeared in better condition than the Inquisitor’s party as they got out of their ground-car.

Inquisitor Roberto Brake, feared representative of the Ordo Veritas, was an unassuming figure of below average height. He was easy to ignore, at least until he transfixed you with his gaze, a gaze which penetrated to your very soul. He was dressed conservatively in his formal traveling robe, the only sign of action being a small bandage wrapped around his left hand. There might be something wrong with his legs too because he walked with an odd gliding gait. Scriptor Karpus, the Inquisitor’s chief administrative and investigative assistant was rather worse off. Scriptor Karpus was a tall impressive man who would naturally wear an air of command if he didn’t continually fight to remain humble. There was a dressing covering the implant connections on his head, neck and shoulder, obvious even under his robes. His right arm and hand were heavily bandaged and in a sling. His left arm was less heavily bandaged, but it was clear that his hands were badly injured. Proctor Paramedes, the leader of the Inquisitor’s Nemesis squad, his traveling bodyguard, was even larger and broader than the Scriptor. An obvious military man. His left arm was in a sling and, although there was no other sign of injury, the way he carried his right arm and rested it on the hilt of his well-worn power sword suggested injuries there too. He walked with that strange stiff-legged gait of someone who is in pain but who’s dignity refuses to allow them to limp. Either that or the bionics of his legs had been damaged. Finally there came two of the Inquisitor’s guards carrying someone obviously seriously injured, wrapped in blankets, inert on a stretcher. A third guard paid close attention to the figure on the stretcher.

Ready to receive this strange band, with all the pomp and circumstance that could be mustered on short notice, was Colonel Junker, acting commander of People’s Guard. An appropriate honor guard was present, but Colonel Junker was privately annoyed at having to stop to receive an Inquisitor when he could be better rooting out Isolationist traitors. Of course there would have been no panic if this Inquisitor Brake had provided decent notice, but no, the Grav-Zeppelin from Buford had landed less than two hours ago and Inquisitor Brake had announced his intentions to visit the Inquisition facilities in Pleasant Hill, now sharing space with the People’s Guard. If any good would come out of this it would be that the Bureau of Information and Education would have to stay in their warehouses and tents. Non-combatants didn’t deserve any better. Colonel Junker was a little surprised. From what little he had managed to find out before Inquisitor Brake arrived, he expected someone at least seven feet tall with lightning bolts flying out of his hair, not a small man with a bodyguard who looked as though they needed protection. Colonel Junker had expected something rather more grand. He would find out more soon enough. Both his nephews had traveled on the same Zeppelin. In their own ways neither Karl nor Eric were fools, they would know more. It would be easy to assume that the Inquisitor was here to help root out the hidden Isolationists, but that could very easily be very wrong. Inquisitor Brake was a member of the greatly feared Ordo Veritas. Most Inquisitors cleansed the galaxy of mutants, corruption and heresy with fire and sword, on whatever scale necessary. The Ordo Veritas preferred their subjects alive. Dead bodies cannot be Examined, Interrogated and Corrected. Colonel Junker was a little annoyed by the perfunctory greeting he got, but at least he could get back to his work. The Inquisitor seemed far more interested in the leader of their advanced party, palmed off on the Department of Safety and now the People’s Guard as an interrogation team.

**********

Inquisitor Brake acknowledged the salutes of the People’s Guard honor guard and their commander with as much dignity as he could muster. Inquisitor Brake hated time-wasters and this little ceremony in the courtyard was keeping at least 1,000 officers and men from their duty. If the People’s Guard spent more time cracking down on dissidence and disloyalty, and less time on meaningless ceremony and boot polishing things would doubtless be a lot safer in Pleasant Hill.

Few things had pleased Inquisitor Brake more recently than the sight of Interrogator Grauman. Grauman was Inquisitor Brake’s personal Interrogator. It was he who Examined witnesses for the Inquisitor, he who performed the Interrogations and, if necessary, he who performed the Correction and gave the Emperor’s Blessing if appropriate. Grauman was an artist of Interrogation and Correction. If he had enough time, over ninety percent of those he Corrected were able to receive the Emperor’s Blessing. If Grauman could not save the soul, then no-one could. This did not mean, of course, that Grauman did all this difficult and tiring work himself. No, his retinue of expert Examiners did most of the work. All the easy work in fact; Grauman supervised the difficult cases and performed a lot of the really delicate work himself. He was indomitable. In one case, the Correction had lasted twenty-three days and, even so, he was able to administer the Emperor’s Blessing at the end. It was Grauman’s view that sufficient Correction could save every soul. The art was in keeping the body alive long enough for this to occur.

Grauman was of medium height and medium build, a little bigger than Inquisitor Brake. Most of his body was draped in his ritual Robes of Interrogation and it was difficult to see his face or features because of the ritual mask he wore. Since he was not actually on formal duty, he was wearing the silver mirror mask of Self-examination. Those who looked at him saw only themselves. The only other unusual features were his bionic left hand, which could be replaced by appropriate instruments of Interrogation, and the low flat hump on his back under his robes where additional instruments could be attached directly to his spine, the better to control them and their work. Accompanying Interrogator Grauman were six of his best Examiners.

Servants of the Inquisition whose electro-grafts failed, or were injured in combat or very slightly touched by Chaos were not automatically discarded or killed. The Inquisition valued their members far too much for that. No, all who could be saved were transformed into Examiners by the combined efforts of Interrogators and the Tech-priests of Mars. Some of those in the outside world who became unwitting dupes of heretics, or perhaps viewed the raw form of Chaos might be extended this privilege too, those who were least Guilty, remembering that there is no Innocence, only Degrees of Guilt. Their minds were erased, their will destroyed, new basic behavior implanted and their bodies modified for the task. Examiners where ideal assistants for Interrogators. They were never bored, no amount of screaming or threats from the subjects could affect them, their almost complete lack of free will made it easy for daemons to possess them but once possessed, the daemons had nothing to work with and were often trapped and dealt with all the more easily. With no will, they could not be bribed or corrupted or tempted. Yes, ideal for the work.

Although Interrogator Grauman’s skills were normally devoted to those he Interrogated, these skills had other uses. The same skill that allowed him to keep a subject alive through three weeks of Correction could be used to heal more mundane injuries. Inquisitor Brake had been the recipient of Interrogator Grauman’s healing touch many times before. The wound on his left hand was a minor annoyance, it was the hands of Scriptor Karpus, especially the right, and the wound in the Scriptor’s shoulder, and the wound to Proctor Paramedes’ calf that worried him the most. But Duty came before anything else. Once Grauman had stabilized the body on the stretcher he would be able to minister to the Inquisitor’s own men.

The thing on the stretcher was one of the most dangerous killers in the entire Imperium of Mankind, a assassin of the Venenum Temple, a Chem-killer. Adepts of some of the other temples might care to dispute which was the most dangerous; let them all fight to the death to determine the winner. This assassin had inflicted all the damage to Inquisitor Brake and his men armed only with a field reinforced mono-molecular knife. He had surprised Scriptor Karpus, but Proctor Paramedes, a fighter trained from birth in the ways of the ancient Norcross aristocracy, was ready for him and had nearly been killed, and even Inquisitor Brake, prepared and fortified by the Catechism of Faith had been wounded. The Inquisitor’s duty was to find out who had employed the assassin and what their mission was. If anyone could do this, Grauman could. Or course there was also the minor problem of keeping the assassin from suicide or escape, but Grauman had Inquisitor Brake’s complete confidence. But before he did anything else, Inquisitor Brake had a sacred duty to perform. He had many prayers of Thanks and Salvation to say at the Shrine to the Emperor as the Savior of Mankind. Yes, and even a prayer or two of Retribution Administered.

**********

The Inquisition had been allotted one tower of the massive building for their offices. It was the coldest, dampest, darkest tower, but it was secure and private. The building was in the most severe Teuton Modern Forbidding style in the form of a hollow square with a large courtyard inside. On the outer four walls, the lower thirty feet were smooth and windowless. The upper parts of the walls were pierced by small narrow windows, ideally suited to firing out of and not looking into. There were a couple of small doors at the street level and the main entrance on the North side. Entry to the central courtyard was up a steep ramp and the courtyard itself was twenty feet above the ground level outside. The better for defense. Inside there were many windows, balconies and galleries overlooking the square, but it was also clear that provision for defensive firing positions came well ahead of aesthetics. Given the more or less continuous peace since Reunion nearly five hundred years ago, the design spoke eloquently of the paranoia and insecurity of the Teuton ruling class on Norcross, and their deep-seated fear and distrust of the locals..

The Inquisition’s rooms stretched from the Examination chambers and storage areas in the basement to the weapon emplacement on the top of the tower, ten stories in all. The Inquisitor’s suite, in what seemed to have been some sort of theater or studio, was on the sixth story, with a sumptuous sleeping suite and a gallery that overlooked the square. It was a pity that the rays of the sun never penetrated into this corner. Interrogator Grauman had prepared the rooms with the Nemesis squad on the fifth floor, Scriptor Karpus on the seventh, his own staff from the fourth down, and office space up to the roof. The only command consoles were on the eight floor, and there the official Inquisition offices had been set up. Inquisitor Brake thanked the Interrogator for his efficiency. Interrogator Grauman was of a stoic and ascetic nature and tended not to make too many allowances for other people’s comfort. In this case, although his work might have displeased many, Inquisitor Brake could see that a considerable effort had been made. It was also clear that the People’s Guard were not treating the Inquisition with the proper respect. That’s something that the Inquisitor would remedy.

There was already a great heap of reports to process and, with Scriptor Karpus being out of action for a while, Inquisitor Brake could see that there was a huge amount of work ahead of him. Before he got down to that though, there was the first priority; communicate his findings to High Inquisitor Sigismondo and ask for more specific instructions on the Zeppelin passengers, who even now were being held and identified at the landing field. Little the High Inquisitor Sigismondo actually did surprised Inquisitor Brake anymore, but he was very puzzled by his commands to identify and skinplant all the passengers and crew, and then let them go. Inquisitor Brake was instructed to proceed with his Duty and prepare for the arrival of Arch-Confessor Kyrinov. The High Inquisitor did not apologize for having no more information, of course, and reminded Inquisitor Brake that only someone with his skills had his trust in this matter. When High Inquisitor Sigismondo started handing out compliments like that it was a sure sign of dire times ahead. And, of course, if anything went wrong it would be he who failed his Duty, not High Inquisitor Sigismondo. Inquisitor Brake said a rather lengthy prayer for Divine Revelation, but was not surprised in the least when a vision of the Ever-living Emperor did not appear to him. He followed this up with a brief prayer of Forgiveness for taking the Emperor’s name in vain. The greatest investigation starts with the first dossier. Accordingly, Inquisitor Brake bent over the vast desk to the task.

**********

Two days later, things were not going at all well. Proctor Paramedes was limping around much better, he would be fully healed in a week according to Grauman. Grauman had also been able to save all but one finger on Scriptor Karpus’ right hand, and the rest of his wounds were healing up nicely, but for the next three days, he would be completely out of action while his bio-interfaces were checked and the damaged ones replaced. This was all good. No, the problem was with Inquisitor Brake himself. In spite of information provided by Scriptor Karpus on the Zeppelin, his electro-graft had not returned to proper function. It was running up to 60% efficiency, but that was still frighteningly less than tolerable. Inquisitor Brake finally realized that, as a result of the impairment, he was very uncharacteristically afraid, and for that reason had not chosen to discuss the problem with Interrogator Grauman. This could not go on. Repeating the Hymns of Fortitude, he made his way down the staircase to the Examination chambers. Fighting his inner fear every step of the way.

Grauman did not look up as the Inquisitor entered the Examination chamber, he was too busy inside Scriptor Karpus’ brain, well electro-graft actually, testing the connections between the bio-crystalline interfaces and the implant connections. The side of the Scriptor’s neck had taken a heavy blow, and it was quite possible for the micro-fibers to be damaged. They would not have been cut, the Rites of Diagnosis would show that, but they might be nicked or crushed, ready to fail in some future time of dire need. It was far better to get them checked and repaired now. The Inquisitor could tell that Grauman would be finished quite soon, so he continued on to inspect the holding cells and the other Examination, Interrogation and Correction chambers. It was very evident that Interrogator Grauman, or more likely High Inquisitor Sigismondo, was expecting much need of these facilities. He recognized much of the best equipment and personnel from the headquarters in Buford, including some of the High Inquisitor’s own experts.

Finally Grauman found him and tried to usher him in to his sanctum, but the Inquisitor made it plain that he was here for Grauman’s help, not directly as his commander. Instead Grauman directed him into one of the Examination rooms. Inquisitor Brake could not really understand the aura of terror and fear that hung over the Ordo Veritas. They did not slaughter like some of the more extreme factions of Inquisitors, no, they saved souls. It was not in their interest that their subjects died. The dead cannot Confess, the dead cannot be Corrected, the dead cannot receive the Emperor’s Blessing. Every subject was tested thoroughly to determine any underlying medical weaknesses. Also psychological and psychic testing was done to determine the most efficient forms of Duress, so that Examination, Interrogation and Correction could be performed in the most efficient manner. There are so many to Examine and so little time. Every minute must be used efficiently. Even the Examination chambers had gained a terrible reputation, as dark and horrible places. To a certain extent this was useful. It speeded the Examination process. However, Inquisitor Brake could see that the room was large and well-lit. A subject strapped to the Examination table had the inspiring view of no less than six representations of the Emperor in six of his most benign aspects painted on panels fixed to the ceiling, and in the center was the most glorious of all, a representation of the Emperor as Judge of the Guilty, one of twenty, brought all the way from Terra and taken into the Emperor’s presence for special blessing.

Without any help Inquisitor Brake climbed on the Examination table and there the Examiners placed his arms and legs into the restraint cuffs. This was not of course to prevent the Inquisitor from escaping, but each of the restraint cuffs contained sensors that could be used to probe the subject’s state of health and mind. Since the Inquisitor also had an electro-graft, a leech contact could be used to observe it’s operation. The Inquisitor explained the nature of his problem and Grauman had him exercise his mind by running through all three hundred and sixty-nine verses of the Litany of Loyalty, backwards. The Inquisitor felt the slight needles of pain as various probes inserted themselves into his blood stream, nervous system and spine. With possible electro-graft problems, it would be impossible to rely on any of his normal diagnostics. He felt a burning pain in his side as something was injected into his blood stream, perhaps a mild poison to test his toxo-implant. Yes, several of his bio-sensors responded to the alcohol which had been injected. Grauman activated a drug dispensers attached to one of his Examiners and a few moments later, the Inquisitor could feel his very mind being probed. His automated electro-graft defenses activated, but Grauman was able to switch them off. The probing continued, more and more relentless, and then the Inquisitor’s own psycho-implant was activated, but as soon as this happened, more drugs were injected into him to neutralize the implant. Finally the Inquisitor lost consciousness as his own deep hypno-conditioning shut down his mind completely. Inquisitor Brake was no psyker. In fact it was his abnormal resistance to psychic attack and influence that had brought him to the attention of the Inquisition in the first place, all those very many years ago. With the augmentation of his defenses, an extremely powerful psychic attack might kill him, but he would never surrender to it.

When he regained consciousness Inquisitor Brake discovered that he was back in his own bed. Proctor Paramedes was hovering over him with a stricken look on his face. It was totally beyond his comprehension that the Inquisitor would have voluntarily submitted to Examination of any sort, however benign. He had seen flashes of the Inquisitor’s incredible toughness, strength and force of will. He shuddered at the thought of the procedures necessary to reduce the Inquisitor to this state.

“My Lord,” said Interrogator Grauman in his flat deep voice, “you have been poisoning yourself. The frangiberry plant, native to Norcross, produces those bright pink berries which are used to produce a local drink. The juice is harmless to normal people. However, to someone with an electro-graft, the by-products of consumption interfere with the efficiency of the cyber-crystalline interfaces. If you had kept this up for another week, even I might not have been able to reverse the damage. As it was, a simple chemical flush had cleaned away the plaques. I’m surprised that this happened. This effect has been known for more than fifty years. The headache will subside in a few hours, and you will be at full efficiency tomorrow.”

The bow that he gave as he left the room was deep and sincere, but it still gave the impression that the Inquisitor was more of an interesting specimen rather than a superior. Still, Grauman treated even High Inquisitor Sigismondo that way and it did not get him into trouble. If you wanted abject subservience, you had better find another Interrogator.

It was not so much a headache that Inquisitor Brake experienced as the feeling that a Dreadnought was marching on his skull. The Inquisitor motioned his guards to draw the curtains across before the intense starlight seared his eyeballs and croaked orders for them to leave the room. The sound of their breathing was in danger of rupturing his eardrums.

**********

The Inquisitor awoke in the morning and, as Grauman had promised, his headache had almost completely subsided. His mind was crystal-clear; as clear as space itself. The comparison was shocking. The drunk rarely remembers the true depths of his impairment. With the Inquisitor’s electro-graft memory, he could recall and examine his own reduced circumstances. He muttered the prayer of Forgiveness three times. It was not often that he failed in his Duty. He should have sought Grauman’s help as soon as he had arrived in Pleasant Hill. It was not the Inquisitor’s fault, but he accepted no excuses from others. He did not excuse himself. Today he would go to one of the Emperor’s shrines to ask for forgiveness in person. The Inquisitor also realized that he had wasted almost all of the last two days. He had read the dossiers, but his analysis had not been good enough. He hated time wasting and he hated time wasters. The Emperor gave a man only so much time. It was their Duty to make the most of it. At least now he could get on with his work properly.

The Inquisitor performed is ablutions and marveled again at the rich decoration of the Lavatorium. Even the ceiling was painted with inspirational motifs. The Teutons were certainly very fervent supporters of the Imperium of Mankind, but their tastes were both baroque and gaudy. The Inquisitor dressed himself; there had been no time to Examine a body-servant properly and, besides, the Inquisitor was not one for surrounding himself with servants in any case. Finally, he completed his morning Devotions. Normally very devout, his prayers this morning were even more fervent than usual. He then went out for his breakfast. Frangiberry juice might be dangerous, but he noted that he missed it. He ate alone. Scriptor Karpus was still downstairs, and he was the only Inquisitor in Pleasant Hill, as far as he was aware. After breakfast he went back to his office to review Grauman’s reports and the documents he had read on the previous two days. They were in his mind, so all he needed to do was re-analyze them.

Grauman was making only very slight progress with the assassin. He was slowly neutralizing his chemical defenses, one by one, but had to be very careful not to kill the subject. Fortunately, there was little other work for him, so he could bring his full attention to bear on the problem. If Grauman could not succeed, then no-one on Norcross, or anywhere else within a hundred planets was likely to do better. Reading this report caused the Inquisitor to review the whole Zeppelin journey. He was very disappointed in his own performance. The clues pointing to Purser Grunwald as the murderer of the Inquisitor, who still had not been identified, were so clear that it was positively criminal dereliction of Duty that he had missed them. This line of thinking brought the Inquisitor to a glaring inconsistency.

The murder was committed in a manner consistent with Purser Grunwald in an act of desperation. However, it was now known that the killer was a trained Assassin posing as Grunwald. This was a very messy murder for an Assassin. The clues pointed straight at him. The methodology was also very strange. Bashing an Inquisitor’s brains out with an Ikon is not the most certain and tidy of methods. Besides, why kill the Inquisitor at that time? Why kill the Inquisitor at all? The Assassin was already aware of a very efficient Arbitrator-Investigator on the Zeppelin. He knew what would happen when the murder was discovered. True, it was unlucky to have been discovered so soon, but the discovery was certain. If a different method of death had been selected, and with a little intervention by the Purser, the crime might not have been discovered until the passengers had disembarked. That would have changed everything. Even though he had been partly responsible for the Inquisitor’s own impairment, he could not expect that the document case would remain hidden. He knew that the Investigator was very thorough. How could he have expected to get away with it all? Assassins were known for their certainty and subtlety, not their impetuosity and carelessness. This also reminded the Inquisitor to prepare a complete record of the murder and investigation to be sent to Temple Venenum. One of the last things that he wanted was a personal vendetta between him and a Temple of Assassins. The Grand Master would understand, and it would serve as a warning that the Inquisition was aware. Another copy had better be sent to the Ordo Sicarius. Inquisitor Brake did not know who lead the order these days, but the Officio Assassinorum was tasked with eliminating the worst heretics, not minor members of the Inquisition. After he had sent the records to High Inquisitor Sigismondo for forwarding to Terra, he returned to his review of the records from the recent uprising.

**********

Hours later, he was still deep in thought when his electoo pricked. It was Proctor Paramedes, who was also acting as his doorkeeper in the absence of Scriptor Karpus. He signaled for the Proctor to enter.

“My Lord, I have been informed that Provincial Governor Graf Jaeger is coming to see you. It is a formal visit.”

As a senior member of the Inquisition, Brake didn’t have to receive the Governor, but since he was responsible for preparing for Arch-Confessor Kyrinov, he had to deal with the Governor sooner or later. He nodded to the Proctor, who bowed and left the room. The Inquisitor called up the Governor’s personal records and family history. The better to be prepared to deal with him.

The Jaegers, lead by Graf Otto Jaeger, belonged at the top of the second tier of Teuton families. Not as powerful as the Coburgs, Hausers or Anhalts, but with considerable influence. The center of their power was here in Pleasant Hill, a long way from Buford, but as the old capital of Sparta, a place of considerable power. The Provincial Governor had as much power to wield as he could wrest from the Provincial Council, and visa-versa. At the moment the Governor’s power was trammeled in several ways.

Firstly, there was not one but two factions in the Provincial Council opposed to the Governor and his policies. There was a Teuton faction of Progressives lead by Councilor Hauser, if the very concept of Progressive Teutons was not oxymoronic. There was also a native faction of Isolationists, formerly lead by Councilor Paramedes, father of Proctor Paramedes. The Suwanee Provincial Council represented the height of Isolationist power on Norcross. The Councilor, it seemed, had been killed, resisting arrest, during a Department of Safety raid on the Isolationist party headquarters, looking for illegal arms. Only when one of these other factions could be persuaded to agree with him, could the Governor’s policies be advanced.

Secondly, because of the recent eruption of aliens in the hinterland, Colonel Jay Haygood of the 95^th Cadian Rifles, had been made Planetary Legate with authority in Suwanee Province, by the Imperial Commander. This gave the Colonel plenipotentiary power completely undercutting the Governor and bypassing all the normal chains of command. Of course the Colonel was a military man, and only the Governor could operate the levers of the bureaucracy properly. However, there was bound to be friction, especially given Colonel Haygood’s reputation for ruthlessness and disdain for politicians in general.

Thirdly, there had been the uprising in Pleasant Hill itself. Cultists, allied with Eldar Pirates, had almost completely captured Pleasant Hill, only a small section of the business district around the headquarters of the Hauser Loyal Bank had held out. The rebels had captured the Capitol briefly, and in that time had convened a People’s Assembly and passed radical laws. These laws were not recognized by the Imperial Commander of course, but until the Capitol was reconsecrated, the Governor was without formal power.

Lastly, in the desperate days of the uprising, the Governor had formed the People’s Guard as a city militia, loyal to him, as opposed to the Department of Safety, which was thought to be under Hauser influence, and the native Suwanee Militia which was composed mostly of Isolationists. Unfortunately, the People’s Guard had borne the brunt of the early fighting against the cultists and, although there were many reports of their heroic actions, it seemed that their casualties, and hence casualties among the Governor’s supporters had been distressingly high. The best of the People’s Guard, it appeared, had been destroyed by Eldar Pirates bravely defending the Capitol. Promised reinforcements from the Department of Safety never arrived, and Colonel Haygood’s troops were fighting for their lives. This also explained why the Governor was here at the People’s Guard headquarters, not at his official residence, which it seemed had been occupied by the Eldar Pirates for several weeks as their headquarters.

The Inquisitor’s electoo pricked again and he responded signaling for the Governor to be admitted.

**********

Provincial Governor Graf Otto Jaeger was an old man, reduced to his bare essence. Slim and spare, resplendent in his formal, brown, black, red and gold uniform as Commander-in Chief of the People’s Guard. He was accompanied by a much younger aide in an even more gaudy uniform, burdened down by many papers. The two of them advanced across the deep lush carpet as Proctor Paramedes and Osfolio took up guard positions beside the doors. Close up, the Governor was not as old as he appeared, but rather worn down to his present state by some great burden. Even he was not to be spared should the Inquisition decide to investigate the situation on Pleasant Hill more deeply. His manner seemed nervous as he looked back at the two Nemesis guards all the more intimidating in their formal blood red power armor, servo axes and hell pistols at the ready. The aide seemed rather nonplused upon arriving at the desk and discovering that there were no chairs in the room. A desk and several tables, but no chairs. The Inquisitor’s bionic legs didn’t need a chair to rest and the Inquisitor found it far more efficient to work if he didn’t sit. He also found that visitors wasted a great deal less of his time if there were no chairs. His holo-control console back in Buford was designed to be used standing, not sitting down.

The Inquisitor stared blankly at the Governor, who, at the last possible moment of politeness, offered his salute, promptly returned by the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor did not speak, waiting for the Governor to state his business. It was clear that the Governor was used to automatic subservience here and was having a hard time acknowledging the Inquisitor’s authority. The tension was broken by the aide. It was his job to break tension.

“Inquisitor Brake. The Governor wants your immediate action concerning these Isolationist traitors.” He placed a stack of documents on the desk. This was not a request, but an order. It seemed that the further Teutons got from Buford, the more self-important they became.

“Is that all?” the Inquisitor inquired. Anyone who knew him would have recognized the steel in his voice. The Governor and his aide did not notice the storm warning.

“No that is not all Inquisitor! As Provincial Governor, I am the direct representative of the Emperor here in Pleasant Hill. It is your Duty to root out traitors. I expect you to do it!” This was delivered in a surprisingly deep voice for one so slight.

“Isolationists have attempted to overthrow the legitimate government of Suwanee Province. Here I have the names of the guilty and evidence of their crimes. I expect action!”, he said, picking up a small folder, tossing it to the Inquisitor’s side of the desk.

The Inquisitor carefully picked up the folder and leafed through it’s contents slowly. The Governor was not used to waiting either.

“Provincial Governor Jaeger, I have been sent to Pleasant Hill on the direct orders of High Inquisitor Sigismondo. I need no one to remind me of my Duty. I have a job to do, and I will do it.” More steel, even harder, and a definite tone of dismissal.

“The people on that list are all a direct threat to the security of Pleasant Hill. They must be arrested and executed at once!”

“Including Andros Maniakes?” the Inquisitor asked quietly.

“Andros Maniakes?”

“Yes, the one hundred and fifteenth entry on the list. He is the two year old son of Cyrus Maniakes, grandson to both Councilor Maniakes and the late Councilor Paramedes.” This silenced the Governor briefly. He was unused to either electoo or electro-graft technology, so this seemed like Divine Inspiration or inside information. He cast a glance sideways to his aide.

“Under Norcross law the family has been declared Traitor, all of them. Every father, every son. They are Isolationists, none of them can be trusted. They must be dealt with.”

“There are four hundred and sixty-seven names on that list. Of them, about three hundred are old enough to bear arms. Are you telling me that these people were responsible for all the damage?”

“No, these are just the leaders. We are tracking down the rest. We will have more names soon.”

“What about Thrakos Gravas?” More blank looks.

“He is seventy-four years old, has no family, and is employed as a gardener at the Hauser Loyal Bank. Exactly how did he become a traitor?”

“He lives next door to the Anhalt warehouse on River Street. Illegal arms were found there. Gravas did not report them. At last, after all these years the Isolationists have shown their true natures. Inquisitor Brake, you are new to Norcross. My family and I have lived here for five hundred years. We know just how disloyal these Isolationists are. They have rebelled against the Ever-living Emperor. They must be punished with all the force that the Empire can muster.”

“They are all traitors? All rebels. Surely some must have remained loyal?” asked the Inquisitor.

“No, not one, they are all rebels. Any of them will kill you as soon as look at you. Even the children. They’re trained that way. You don’t know them like we do.” The Governor’s tone softened slightly.

The Inquisitor appeared to think for a moment.

“What do you think Proctor Master Paramedes?” he addressed to the leader of his Nemesis guard.

The Governor’s already pale complexion became completely ashen and he had to support himself on the edge of the desk. His aide’s naturally ruddy complexion turned a lighter shade of parchment.

“I do not think, my Lord. I obey your orders, and those of the Inquisition,” said the Proctor in the most unemotional voice he could muster.

Inquisitor Brake smiled slightly; just the sort of answer he expected in the circumstances. Yes, Proctor Paramedes would do very well, if he survived this mission.

“You seem unwell Governor. Leave these documents with me. I will review them thoroughly. I will summon you when I have decided what you must do.”

Although he did not turn away, it was totally clear, even to the Governor, that he had been dismissed. In his haste to leave the room, he forgot to salute the Inquisitor. Proctor Paramedes was totally impassive as he opened the door to usher the governor out of the room.

**********

After the evening meal, Inquisitor Brake horrified Proctor Paramedes by informing him that they were going for a walk in Pleasant Hill. The Proctor suggested that they use a groundcar for reasons of security, and the Inquisitor politely reminded him that it was the Inquisitor’s job to decide what to do and the Proctor’s job to protect him while he did it. It was thus that the Inquisitor, the Proctor and four Nemesis guards set out. The guards were fully armored, hefting their servo-axes, and the Inquisitor wore his armored corslet under his cloak. He also wore his Rosarius, inconspicuously.

It was obvious that Pleasant Hill had been the scene for recent and heavy fighting. The corpses had been buried, but there were always those scraps of flesh that were hard to find. There were still occasional splashes of blood on the walls of damaged buildings, and the heavy smell of burned wood still hung over the city. Things were, however, much better than they had been only three days ago when the Inquisitor arrived. There were signs of boarded up damage and repair everywhere. Most of the damage seemed to have fallen on the shoulders of the Teuton residents, based on the number of Teuton names on gutted businesses and looted shops. But that might simply be because of the predominance of Teuton shopkeepers. There were few Spartan buildings, and many of them were damaged too, but even the worst of them seemed to be less damaged or better repaired.

Pleasant Hill had been the old capital of Sparta before Reunion, and it was still the largest city on Norcross. There had been little fighting in Pleasant Hill during the War of Reunion and so there were still many buildings from that time, ornate and painted vibrant colors on the outside, in complete contrast to the much more somber appearance of more modern Teuton influenced designs. As they approached the Agora, the old market place, the Inquisitor realized that certain of the ancient traditions of Sparta survived to this day.

The Inquisitor had visited a great many planets in his time, but Norcross was almost unique. Many planets had been discovered and colonized directly or indirectly from Terra, indigenous alien sentient life being cleansed. Other planets had been rediscovered with lost colonies, established before the Horus Heresy and sometimes much earlier than that. These planets were conquered, one way or another. Where the planet was primitive, it was easy to enlighten the natives to the benefits of joining the Imperium of Mankind lead by the Ever-living Emperor. If the level of technology was more advanced, long experience had shown that the best policy was outright and direct conquest. If the natives were not thoroughly crushed, in a generation or two, they came to believe that they were not crushed not from the beneficence of the Ever-living Emperor, but because the forces of the Imperium could not beat them or lacked the will. Inevitably some sort of rebellion followed. Even if this rebellion were crushed and beaten down, deep wounds had been opened and the specter of successful rebellion raised. Total conquest with careful force at the very beginning and then dispersing many of the survivors to other worlds was the current policy and it was providing very good results.

Norcross was different. When Norcross was rediscovered five hundred years before, the people had degenerated into pagan worship and they refused to resubmit to the authority of the Emperor. Forces were sent to break their spirit, but they still fought on in a suicidal and hopeless conflict which could have only one result. However, a priest, named Basileos, had an ecstatic vision if the Ever-Living Emperor and in this vision it was revealed that the chief pagan god worshipped on Sparta was just an aspect of the Emperor. In a single day all resistance ceased. The 666^th Teuton Regiment was left to garrison the planet and the forces were redeployed to a more important theater. In the last five hundred years there had been no significant rebellion on Norcross.

One of the old Spartan traditions involved the worship of the Emperor. On every other planet the Inquisitor had visited, it was both a crime and Heresy to pass an Ikon of the Emperor on consecrated ground without offering an appropriate prayer. This could totally disrupt the business of the Imperium if carried to zealous excess, so Ikons were normally mounted in niches, in small alcoves, or in dedicated chapels. Thus, ordinary citizens could walk down the street without having to stop and pray every few yards. However, anytime someone needed to pray or receive inspiration from the Emperor, the opportunity was available. Even in his own rooms, the Inquisitor’s personal Ikon was in such a niche. Here in Norcross, the majority of the Ikons were mounted on man high pillars beside the streets. However, the people passed them by without any apparent notice. If they looked directly at the Ikon, the locals made the Sign of the Circle, and only if the actually touched the pillar did they stop to pray. There were also conventional alcoves, niches and Ikons, though comparatively few. This was obviously the standard custom on Norcross. On every street corner there were Block Warden posts manned by members of the Department of Safety. They took no action. It was also obvious that the Ikons were revered by the locals. Their shops and houses might be destroyed, but the Inquisitor did not see a single spot of damage on any Ikon or pillar. The Inquisitor found this very disturbing, Every time his eye caught an Ikon, he felt compelled to recite at least the Blessing of the Day, the shortest prayer he knew. This made for a slow journey.

At last they reached the Inquisitor’s destination, the great Shrine to the Emperor as the Savior of Mankind. Home of the Priesthood of Basil. The Inquisitor had seen many great and wonderful buildings on Terra and Mars and many other worlds, a great many were taller, wider longer or more ornate, but still the overall spectacle was considerable. Although a spectacle, the temple still presented a strange appearance. In most representations of the Emperor, his life and the Great Deeds, the reliefs, mosaics and statues were made of precious metals, jewels and exquisite enamel-work. Here, in Pleasant Hill, these scenes were painted in fine detail to a stunningly life-like standard. Even now there were hundreds of workers, artisans, artists and priests repairing the damage from the recent fighting. It was also typical of Norcross that there were separate entrances to the temple for Teutons, and for various ranks of, so-called nobility. The Inquisitor ignored the ushers and priests and entered by the most convenient door. No one dared to stop him.

**********

Inside, the shrine would normally be even more magnificent than it’s exterior but, during the recent fighting, the shrine had fallen to the Eldar Pirates who had systematically defiled it. The reconsecration had begun, as the many parties of priests and monks showed, but the shrine’s purity would not be restored until the Ikon of Pella was displayed there. Unlike many other shrines to the Emperor, the devotional works inside were not huge, inspiring and dominating. Instead they were very small and personal, each on a tile a hand’s breadth across. These tiles covered almost every part of the walls, even to their full height where they disappeared into the mists of incense and the radiant light of the sun streaming through the clerestory hundreds of feet above. Even now there were hundreds of worshippers inside replacing or repairing the damaged tiles. Many hanging from ropes suspended from the pillars, hundreds of feet in the air. The Inquisitor moved over to look at some of the tiles more closely. The workmanship and artistry was exquisite, the detail almost unbelievable. Each tile was a personal homage to the Ever-living Emperor by the family who created it or had it done for them. Looking at most of the worshippers it appeared that their devotion required that the work be done in person.

The Inquisitor moved along the aisles so that he could pass through the screen to the actual shrine itself. Again the work was breathtaking, on a more human and detailed scale than normal on Terra. Although the pirates had damaged and desecrated much of the shrine, they had been unable to do much to the Ikon of the Emperor because, from the pale pink glow in the air in front of it, the Inquisitor could tell that the Ikon was protected by a force shield of some sort. He had seen a few Ikons protected in this way and some of the force shields dated from the Dark Age of Technology and could not be breached by any weapon known to man. There was the famous Ikon of the Emperor Indestructible on the dead world of Magnar Gul. During the Age of Apostasy a meteorite had been diverted to hit the planet. It had struck the outskirts of the capital city, and the resulting fireball cleansed the planet of all life. Darkness fell for over one hundred years. When the planet was examined for the taint of Chaos or salvageable resources, instead a miracle was discovered. All else had been destroyed, but somehow, supported above the ground in a palely glowing pink sphere, the Ikon of the Emperor had survived. Inside the sphere could also be seen the remains of the priests who had stayed behind to perform their duty. The Ikon here in Pleasant Hill was obviously an altered form of the original pagan god worshipped here before the miracle of Saint Basil. Since alterations had been accomplished, this was a rare shrine indeed. The force shield was under the control of the priests.

When the Inquisitor and his entourage had completed their prayers and devotions, the Inquisitor noticed a delegation of priests, lead by a High-Deakon obviously waiting for him. The Inquisitor approached them and bowed in supplication. In the Emperor’s House he was merely a guest. The High-Deakon responded with a blessing.

“You are Inquisitor Brake?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You are the Inquisitor who posed as Investigator Brake?”

“Yes.”

“Follow me. Arch-Bishop Kosmedes has granted you an audience.” And with that he turned to lead the Inquisitor away. Although the Inquisitor could not be commanded to appear, he saw no reason to avoid the meeting. In fact he was intrigued.

**********

The audience room was large and ornate, but obviously reserved for smaller ceremonies since it held fewer than a hundred people. When they had last met on the Zeppelin, the Inquisitor had reminded the Arch-Bishop of the limitations of his powers, now here on his home ground, the Arch-Bishop was returning the favor. The Arch-Bishop was a clever stage manager. On the raised back of his throne was a copy of the Ikon of Pella itself. Anyone in front of the throne would have to keep their eyes downcast, otherwise they would forever be looking at the Ikon on consecrated ground, and reciting prayers. This was one time when the Inquisitor’s stature would be an advantage. From where he stood, the Arch-Bishop’s miter completely concealed the Ikon, so he could return his gaze at full intensity. In many other places this would be a pure affectation, but of the secondary Holy Sites, those not actually associated with the Emperor’s personal presence or some great Holy Relic, this shrine was one of the most important in the Imperium. Over recent years its power had grown as the Ecclesiarchy preached the Miracle of Saint Basil from Terra to Terror.

The Inquisitor mounted the steps to the throne and made the minimum obeisance due to the Arch-Bishop. The Arch-Bishop returned the favor with a long and complex blessing which suggested that recent deeds had brought the Inquisitor to the very edge of eternal damnation. The Inquisitor stood quietly and waited. After a prolonged silence, he moved to leave. If the Arch-Bishop wanted an audience, then he could start it.

“My Son,” he said to stop the Inquisitor, “why are you hindering the work of the Church?”

“Hindering, your Sanctity?” The Inquisitor preferred to use the old form of address rather than the more common ‘My Lord’.

“Yes my Son. The Shrine to the Emperor as the Savior of Mankind, may His Hand Protect us Forever, must be reconsecrated. This cannot be done without the Ikon of Pella. It has not been returned to us.” This was really a question not a statement.

“The Ikon is of no special concern to the Inquisition. It appeared to be important evidence in a murder. The murderer of Under-Deakon Johann has been caught. The Inquisition does not need it.” In fact the Inquisitor thought that Scriptor Karpus had released the Ikon for return to the shrine, but if the Arch-Bishop wanted to know, he would have to ask.

“The Ikon of Pella has not been returned to its rightful place. It was last in the custody of the Inquisition. It must be returned at once.” No one but the High Lords of Terra themselves ordered the Inquisition to do anything. The Arch-Bishop had a very strange way of framing a request. The Inquisitor could normally have contacted Scriptor Karpus and he would have recited book, chapter and verse as to the Ikon’s current location. Unfortunately the Scriptor was unavailable until tomorrow, and the Inquisitor was not going to make a commitment, especially since the Arch-Bishop did not ask.

“Send a representative to the People’s Guard headquarters at mid-day tomorrow.” That should give the Inquisitor sufficient time to make proper arrangements, and on his own terms too. These petty officials of the Ecclesiarchy must be reminded of the Inquisition’s power. Inquisitor Brake could have insisted on authority or ignored the Arch-Bishop, but it was not his way to antagonize the other branches of the Imperium without good reason. Power was something to be husbanded carefully, then used with overwhelming force.

He allowed the Arch-Bishop to add a further Prayer of Protection to his Rosarius, made his abasement and left, turning his back on the Arch-Bishop. How he hated these little power games and the time they wasted. The Arch-Bishop could just as easily sent a representative to ask for the return of the Ikon. This grand production was not necessary. He made a note to ensure that the Ikon of Pella was ready for return.

**********

It was not the Inquisitor’s nature to question direct orders, Duty Demanded Obedience, but that didn’t mean that he liked all the orders that he received, and he didn’t like the four orders in front of him received just this morning. One order was really a request since the author didn’t have the necessary authority to command an Inquisitor. The second order too was more of a request and, again, the Inquisitor was not sure that the necessary authority was present, or at least appropriate to send orders to him directly. The third order had all the authority in the Imperium behind it, but it was couched in sufficiently vague terms that the Inquisitor could delay its implementation. The fourth order was simple and direct. There was no way out. The first order was from the Grand Master of Temple Venenum of the Officio Assassinorum. He could not order, but his requests were ignored at ones own risk. This order Inquisitor Brake could ignore. The second order was from the Scriptor Senioris of Ordo Sicarius. Presumably he was speaking on behalf of the High Inquisitor himself. However, this order could be ignored respectfully. The various Ordos of the Inquisition co-operated, but there was no defined hierarchy or chain of command. The third order was from the Black Lord himself, or rather his office, bypassing both the Conclave of the Inquisition and the Secret Order. Orders from the Inquisitorial Representative, one of the High Lords of Terra, could not be ignored. They could be delayed when framed ambiguously. The fourth order was from High Inquisitor Sigismondo. He knew the situation and he knew Inquisitor Brake. He must be obeyed and obeyed quickly.

The interesting thing was the timing of the first three orders. All had originated from Terra and it would be easy to assume that they were in response to the reports that Inquisitor Brake had sent a when he first arrived in Pleasant Hill. Easy to assume, but wrong. Given the distance and segments back to Terra, those reports could not have arrived, not even a summary. In fact, based on his own previous experience, there had only just been enough time for a single code word to be sent to someone waiting on Terra, and within a few hours a single code word to be transmitted back to the sub-sector capital on Caldur. The orders could then have been drafted from this code word. This explained the unanimity of opinion expressed.

Inquisitor Brake was to immediately cease and desist any and all attempts at Examination or Interrogation of any Assassin in his power, and to hold such individual in good health awaiting further instructions.

For such orders to be drafted in three such different places and with such speed, something very important must be going on. Something that High Inquisitor Sigismondo knew about but had not bothered to mention to him. Inquisitor Brake was not surprised. It was a common rumor that High Inquisitor Sigismondo had been offered the position of Black Lord and had refused, claiming that he could do more for the Imperium by operating in the field. The idea of refusing such an honor, to become one of the High Lords of Terra and Master of the Conclave was almost inconceivable. However, knowing High Inquisitor Sigismondo, it was equally inconceivable that such an unfounded rumor would circulate. These orders were very strange. The unknown Assassin had murdered an Inquisitor in cold blood. Normally the various Ordos would be competing to bring the killers to justice. Now he was being told to hold back and wait.

Inquisitor Brake could do no wrong if he obeyed these orders instantly, but Interrogator-Examiner Grauman would be very disappointed. He had invested considerable time and effort breaking down the Assassin’s physical, chemical and mental defenses. He had not broken through, but he was making progress. Inquisitor Brake said the full version of the Prayer of Righteous Inspiration and then went out to deliver the news to Grauman in person.

**********

While Inquisitor Brake did not take Scriptor Karpus for granted, he soon became aware that he did not appreciate his true worth at times. Times like now. He said a brief prayer of Duty Well Done in honor of the Scriptor. The Inquisitor had great power. He had the power to order the Exterminatus cleansing of an entire planet, the power to condemn and execute any Imperial subject or official. He had the power to compel the return of the Ikon of Pella. However, without knowledge, this power was all rather useless. Somewhere between the landing of the Zeppelin and the arrival at the People’s Guard building, the Ikon of Pella, and its finely worked ikon case, had disappeared. General administrative records on Norcross were kept manually and the Inquisitor not only could not access these but, given the chaotic situation in Pleasant Hill, he wasn’t even sure where the records were kept. When the Arch-Bishop’s representative arrived they could be sent away, but the Inquisitor did not want to antagonize the Arch-Bishop. There was very little that the Ecclesiarchy could do anyway, but it was the Inquisitor’s Duty to maintain and enhance the power and influence of the Inquisition and to foil any attempts by other branches of the Imperium to expand their power and influence at the Inquisition’s expense. In particular, because of the Ordo Veritas’ mission, it usually received enthusiastic co-operation from the Ecclesiarchy. They were interested in saving souls too, although to a different purpose. The Scriptor would know how to search the records, but he was not available until tomorrow. Since a problem shared is a problem halved, and he was sure that no Inquisition representative had carried off the Ikon, the Inquisitor sent a message to the Hauser-Huss Zeppelin Service demanding that the item of passenger’s baggage entrusted to them, to wit one small case, be delivered to the Inquisition headquarters by midday. There was no ‘or else’, but none was necessary. Hauser-Huss had struck the Inquisitor as a modern and well run organization, using some of the most advanced technology to be found on Norcross. The principals also had a lot to lose, so they could be counted on to be energetic. If the Hauser was related to the Progressive Teuton faction, then they might well be ready to move mountains in order to show their obedience to the orders of the Inquisition. They would also have the contacts to track things down.

The Inquisitor’s plan had surprisingly quick results. Before he had completed the review of even half a dozen more dossiers, two messages arrived. The first, from the Captain of “The Miracle of Saint Basil” no less, provided documentation, including a receipt, showing that the case had been turned over as evidence in a serious crime, to Staff-Captain Woltz, aide to Provincial Governor Jaeger, and Commander in Chief of the People’s Guard. The second was from Provincial Councilor Hauser, couched in the most deferential terms, and requesting an audience with the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor had not finished his review of the files by any means, but he had noted a trend. The vast majority of cases with recommendations for execution were obviously native Spartans. The remaining very few Teutons declared traitor or criminal without exception seemed either to be supporters of Provincial Councilor Hauser, or had close business or marriage ties to him or his organizations, or to be the few remaining members of the People’s Guard force which had failed to hold the Capitol. Even the Councilor himself had been impeached on a charge of Treason for his failure to send aid to the Provincial Governor and the defense of the Capitol. These charges could not be acted upon as long as the Councilor was in office and so might be held in abeyance for very many years, but they would hang over the family. It would be interesting to hear the Hauser point of view. The Inquisitor did not expect to find this point of view to be unbiased but, even in its distortion, it might throw useful light on the true situation here in Suwanee Province. Some Inquisitors might not have bothered and simply rounded up and punished all those accused of Treason and co-operation with the enemy. It would be quick and terrible Justice, for all were guilty to some extent merely for still being alive when the enemy had entered Pleasant Hill. Such a course of action was very wasteful, and some on the lists may be there for petty or personal reasons. The Inquisitor wanted to make sure that only the Treasonous were punished and the most Guilty were sought out. Using the Inquisition to further personal vengeance was a very serious crime too, and weakened the very fabric of the Imperium.

The Inquisitor summoned the Provincial Councilor for an audience, sent out a summons to the Provincial Governor for a meeting an hour later, and instructed that the Arch-Bishop’s representative be sent into the meeting. It would be an interesting morning. Until Councilor Hauser arrived, the Inquisitor continued with his work, after a heart-felt prayer of Speedy Healing to the Emperor on behalf of Scriptor Karpus.

**********

The Hausers of Suwanee, lead by Councilor Bruno Hauser, belonged at the top of the first tier of Teuton families, descended directly from the original senior officers of the 666^th Teuton Regiment. Their rivals for power were the Coburgs and Anhalts. The center of Hauser power was a small provincial town called Beaver Ruin. It was the site of considerable manufacturing activity, and the site of one of the few planetary core-tap power plants in the entire Imperium of Mankind, dating back to the Dark Age of Technology as far as anyone could tell. According to Arch Magos Alchemys Lavoisier, the Incantation of Insulation as practiced in Beaver Ruin, was the purest and oldest version of the prayer in the entire Imperium. Two of the handful of other surviving core-taps had been significantly improved when the prayer had been introduced. The Inquisitor didn’t understand what he was talking about, but knew that the Arch Magos treated the site as very holy. The Hausers controlled a considerable amount of the commerce on Norcross. There was the Hauser-Huss Zeppelin Service, the Hauser Loyal Bank and the Norcross Imperial Armory, a maker of some of the finest optics in the whole sector, allegedly using techniques lost to the Adeptus Mechanicus until Reunion. Of course, in such a militaristic society as Norcross, the Hausers were looked on in some circles, notably the Coburgs and especially the Anhalts, as mere shopkeepers. However, the Hausers were this richest family on Norcross by far. Real power may come from the barrel of a gun, but a bar of electrum is not to be ignored either and may be wielded with considerable force.

Councilor Hauser controlled the Teuton opposition in several Provincial Councils but, only here in Suwanee could they wield actual power by uniting with the Paramedes faction. With their help a majority could be achieved and Hauser policies implemented. Some of the time he even had enough votes to overcome the Governor’s veto. The Hausers also had considerable influence in the Suwanee Department of Safety, the regular civil security and emergency force. During the recent uprising, it was the Department of Safety which had fought to the last preserving a small section of the downtown business and temple district from the insurgents. It was considered typical by most observers that this section of the city held the headquarters and main vaults of the Hauser Loyal Bank, although several other businesses were also saved, as well as the main Shrine to the Emperor as Bringer of Light. Before the uprising, the Hauser faction had been suspected in a number of assassination attempts on both the Provincial Governor and Councilor Paramedes. One of his four sons had died in an explosion in the very Capitol, defusing a bomb. Another son had been killed in suspicious circumstances after leading a successful raid on the Isolationist party headquarters in which Councilor Paramedes and fifty-two others were killed by an explosion which destroyed the building in the middle of a fierce gun battle. It was surprising to note, that except for two slight injuries to Department of Safety workers from falling debris, there were no other casualties.

The Inquisitor’s office had been re-arranged by the time that Provincial Councilor Hauser arrived. There was a table and chairs. There was even a little food and an assortment of local wines. The better to relax the subject, for whether he knew it or not, this was going to be a very mild Examination. The Duress would largely be mental, but it would be Duress none-the-less.

The Inquisitor was not often surprised by the people that he met, but he had to admit to being surprised by the appearance of Councilor Hauser. Based on his experience with other Norcross and Teuton officials he had expected something quite different. Councilor Hauser was much younger than he expected, apparently at least a generation younger than Governor Jaeger. There were modern anti-agathics, the Inquisitor took them himself, but their continued use left its mark, especially in and around the eyes. Councilor Hauser’s eyes were comparatively young. Rather than the tall lean look of most Teutons, the Councilor was short and broad, shorter than the Inquisitor in fact. His body was broad, not fat. The body of a manual laborer or even pit fighter. His attire was also unusual. It was not that standard more-or-less gaudy military styled uniform worn by almost everyone he has met from the Governor down to the street sweeping squad responsible for keeping the Agora clean. No, instead he wore very plain and severe robes something that a member of the Ecclesiarchy might wear. How deliberate was this? Finally, there were no signs at all of any implants or bionic enhancements. Most unusual indeed for any official anywhere. It spoke of either unusual genetic purity, or fear or reluctance to adopt Imperial technology or traditions. Whatever the reason it was very unusual for a politician allegedly belonging to a so-called Progressive faction. This was behavior entirely consistent with the most obdurate of Conservatives and Traditionalists.

**********

The Councilor’s bow and abasement appeared sincere and unforced, if anything more abject than the circumstances required. However, the Councilor did not flinch from the Inquisitor’s direct gaze, and he refused the offer of food and drink, but very politely. The sight of Proctor Paramedes and Guardsman Lugar standing guard at the door appeared not to worry him at all. Councilor Hauser had requested the audience. Let him make the first move. The Inquisitor indicated that the Councilor should sit. After he had done so, he produced a sheaf of documents from under his robes, carefully and slowly so that the Nemesis guards would not get the wrong idea. The Inquisitor was not worried, as an additional security measure, Osfolio had him in his sights from the room next door, and the chair in which he sat was fitted with a directional explosive. Any sudden moves and the Councilor would be a nasty mess on the ceiling and the walls.

He passed the sheaf across to the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor looked through the papers.

“My Lord, the first document is a baggage receipt for the Hauser-Huss Zeppelin Service detailing Under-Deakon Johann’s luggage. The second document is a receipt for an Ikon case containing a replica of the Ikon of Pella, wanted as evidence in a murder, signed by Captain Woltz of the People’s Guard. The third documents is a copy of a receipt from Captain Woltz, and signed by Provincial Governor Jaeger, taking responsibility for the evidence. The remaining documents are affidavits from Department of Safety Block Wardens and citizens of Pleasant Hill attesting to the authenticity of the other documents.” The documents painted a very clear picture. Councilor Hauser was very efficient, either in locating and producing the documents, or constructing a very tightly fitting frame-up. In either case the Inquisitor could appreciate the work involved. The Inquisitor would have been interested to know how the third document had been obtained and even why it existed at all.

“You seem very eager to help the Inquisition for a man declared Traitor. You realize that your zeal will help you not at all. The Inquisition has it’s own ways of determining the truth.” The Inquisitor delivered this in such stern tones that an observer might have expected an Interrogator and his Examiners to carry off Councilor Hauser for Examination at any moment. Again the Councilor returned the Inquisitor’s gaze directly, with the open look of the mostly Innocent. Everyone was guilty of something.

“My loyalty to the Ever-Living Emperor is in no doubt, as any Examination will show, my Lord.” It is a brave, honest or foolish man who directly challenges the Inquisition to an Examination and Councilor Hauser certainly didn’t look foolish.

“Here on Norcross, and especially in Suwanee Province, politics is a blood-sport. Charges of Treason and Heresy are wielded as weapons sharper than swords. It is a terrible waste of effort. But in order to achieve progress the game must be played and won. The winners make the new rules. The government here on Norcross is administered by the Imperial Commander, and all that has been done is according to the law and tradition. From a more practical point of view, all Imperial tithes have been delivered willingly and on time, no significant force of Imperial troops has been diverted to Norcross to put down unrest since Reunion, and a great many of our people serve with distinction in the regiments of the Imperial Guard and the Ecclesiarchy. Over two hundred of our citizens have been recruited into the Adeptus Astartes. Whatever else Norcross my be, it has shown its loyalty repeatedly.”

The Inquisitor was slightly contemptuous of this self-serving speech. Although it was all true, the loyalty of Norcross had never really been tested. People on these isolated worlds often thought that Obedience to Duty was the same as Loyalty. Loyalty was continuing to maintain shrines to the Emperor as your planet was being over-run by the minions of Chaos, spitting in the face of daemons as they consumed your family. Loyalty was ordering the extermination of your entire population to deny them to invaders. Loyalty was starvation so that resources could be used to re-conquer lost world and drive back aliens, heretics and mutants. The people of Norcross didn’t know what loyalty was, although if the current troubles were not dealt with soon, they might well find out. The Inquisitor waited for Councilor Hauser to continue.

“I have been told that you are here to clear the way for Arch-Redemptor Kyrinov and the reconsecration of the shrine when the Ikon of Pella is returned. I am sure that you have been provided with plenty of documents and evidence concerning traitors who must be condemned for their actions on the recent unrest. As Controller of the People’s Guard I wish to present some of their records for your consideration to ensure that none of the Guilty escape punishment.”

‘A typical time-wasting politician,’ thought the Inquisitor. Doubtless all that he wanted to do was present evidence in his own defense and perhaps indict his political enemies. Why was it that all these petty political types though that the Inquisition was a tool to be used, not a Master to be feared and obeyed. Councilor Hauser took the Inquisitor’s silence for assent and produced two more folders from under his robes, again very carefully. The Inquisitor thought that perhaps Councilor Hauser’s bulk was as a result of documents, not muscle. One folder was thick and the other very thin and marked as a summary. The Inquisitor opened it and glanced though its contents. The first heading ‘Crimes Committed by Councilor Bruno Hauser’ was unexpected. Other headings were more expected. If Councilor Hauser had intended to attract the Inquisitor’s interest he had certainly succeeded. Delivering a dossier to the Inquisition detailing one’s own crimes was an interesting gambit. If the Councilor thought that this would divert the Inquisition from it’s own investigations he would be very disappointed indeed. However, the Inquisitor Brake could not resist glancing through the summary of charges and was a little surprised to find that Councilor Hauser claimed to be Guilty of more than half of them. It was unusual to encounter anyone who would freely admit of their crimes and provide the evidence for their own condemnation. As the Inquisitor had already noted, Councilor Hauser didn’t seem foolish, but placing something like this in the hands of the Inquisition was hard to fathom.

The Inquisitor thought for a moment.

“Proctor Paramedes, please come here.” The lack of reaction from the Councilor suggested that he was well aware of the Proctor’s identity. “This man has just confessed to several minor Treasons and some Grey and Yellow Grade Heresies. Such action is to be encouraged. It makes the job of the Inquisition so much easier.” He looked around the room for a convenient location. “Take him over there and prepare to execute him.”

**********

The Inquisitor was interested in the reaction of both the Proctor and Councilor Hauser. The Councilor may well have been responsible for the assassination of his own father, but the Proctor hesitated for a heartbeat. In that same small time much of the light seemed to fade from the Councilor’s eyes. He was beaten. He had failed.

“Sword or pistol, my Lord?” inquired the Proctor, using this request to cover up his own surprise. The Inquisitor was very pleased. It was important to him that he could predict the actions of all his subordinates. This question showed a fine intelligence.

“Pistol Proctor, otherwise the blood would ruin the carpet,” he said with a tone of admonishment which suggested that the Proctor should have thought of this himself.

The Councilor stood himself up and offered not resistance or excuses as he was lead over to the wall. The Inquisitor pulled up his hood to throw his face into shadow.

“Do you Bruno Hauser confess to the crimes detailed here?”

“yes,” the Councilor cleared his throat “Yes.”

“Do you admit to the truth of the evidence presented here?”

“Yes,” in a firmer tone.

“Are you prepared to receive the Emperor’s Blessing so that your soul may be joined with his forever?”

“Yes!”

“Have you any last statement?”

“Great is the Emperor’s Justice!”

Inquisitor Brake had to admit that Councilor Hauser had called his bluff. He also had to admit that the Councilor was indeed a clever and brave man. If he was ruthless with others he was no less ruthless with himself. He was prepared to die in order to indict and condemn others. He had a lot to lose but either he considered the results worth his own life, or he understood the Inquisitor much better than anyone should. If the Inquisitor were to proceed with the execution, then the documents and their contents, attested by the free confession, could be used as very strong evidence of guilt for the others named in them. In normal circumstances this evidence would be produced as the result of a lengthy session of Examination and Interrogation. Given the circumstances, and relative lack of Duress, the Inquisitor could ignore everything, but the Councilor would not know that.

“Thank you Proctor. That will be all.” The Proctor again hesitated for a moment, to confirm that he had indeed been dismissed. The Inquisitor was not quite certain of the brief prayer muttered by Councilor Hauser because of his accent, but it was certainly one of the Prayers of Thanks.

“Do not think that this is a reprieve, merely a delay in execution of sentence. When I think it necessary the sentence will be carried out. You are a lucky man. Since you have not been declared Outlaw, it is only a very brave or desperate man who will kill you and risk the disapproval of the Inquisition.” At last the light dawned upon Councilor Hauser. Since he was condemned by the Inquisition, his person was technically the property of the Inquisition. Few would be prepared to rob the Inquisition of their property. The Councilor made his way slowly over to the food and drink and took some rather absent-mindedly as he struggled to compose himself. The Inquisitor watched carefully and summoned him back well before he was finished.

“Governor Jaeger has presented evidence of Treason, you have supported much of it. Why should the sentence not be carried out?”

The Councilor stopped to think for a moment, but the Inquisitor’s stare demanded an answer, and promptly.

“My Lord, in time of unrest Treason and Heresy sometimes become impossible to avoid. The Governor sent me orders. I disobeyed them, the Capitol fell. I am judged guilty of Treason. I freely admit my actions. Bishop Komnenos also sent an official demand from Arch-Bishop Kosmedes and Supreme Patriarch Basil as representatives of the Ecclesiarchy, that the sacred Shrine of the Emperor as Bringer of Light be held to the last man as the only uncorrupted shrine in the whole city. Should that be abandoned and the Emperor’s Light be extinguished then charges of Heresy would doubtless be filed. If I had to choose between my body and my soul, I chose my soul. Besides, the Governor had over three thousand of the People’s Guard, the few hundred of the Department of Safety would have made little difference. I am the Controller of the People’s Guard, as long as Colonel Haygood is Planetary Legate, the Governor may pass all the laws he wants but all military commands come from the Legate. He sent no orders. I did what I thought best as a military commander and a loyal official of the Imperium.”

Loyal perhaps, but not especially competent. The casualties among the Department of Safety had been even higher than those of the People’s Guard, although there were many more of them in the field and the People’s Guard had been responsible for the defense of the Capitol and associated government buildings, whereas the Department of Safety had been defending the entire city. Even so it had taken only a small detachment of the crack 95^th Cadian Rifles to beat back the enemy and force the Eldar pirates out of the city, and their casualties in both men and equipment had been very light.

“I have presented you with my reports and the official records of the Department of Safety. I am ready to suffer any punishment that you deem necessary.” A rather redundant statement. The Inquisition punished Traitors and Heretics whether they were ready or not.

The Inquisitor found himself impressed by Councilor Hauser. He appeared brave and astute. If he was not honest, he would be very good at covering his crimes. The Inquisitor liked a challenge. While the Councilor finished his snack, the Inquisitor reviewed the documents in more detail. While he was doing this, there was a knock on the door, and Proctor Paramedes, who went to investigate, signaled that the Governor had arrived. The Inquisitor ordered him brought in. Now things might get very interesting.

*******

The Provincial Governor was dressed in yet another splendid uniform, did he have a different one for every day and occasion? He was also accompanied by his Staff-Captain. He seemed to have adjusted to Proctor Paramedes’ presence, but he was briefly taken aback by Councilor Hauser. He then ignored him and gave his salute to the Inquisitor, but again with the minimum politeness possible.

“I see that you have done your Duty and arrested the traitor Hauser.” The Inquisitor needed no reminding of his Duty. Nor did he appreciate the Governor’s tone. It was the Inquisitor who held all the power here. “Don’t believe a thing he says. He would do anything to save himself and his family. Cowards are like that.” Councilor Hauser could not take this insult and advanced on the Governor, reaching for his Blade of Honor. His stature might not be great, but his force of will was strong and the Governor involuntarily took a step backward, partly shielding himself with his aide before both the Councilor and the Governor realized that the Inquisitor’s guards had relieved them both of their weapons. Almost in the same instant the Councilor caught himself and turned his advance into a walk to the table for another cup of wine, and the Governor changed his retreat into the opportunity to adjust the fit of his uniform coat.

“You think that this man could fool the Inquisition, Governor?”

“Certainly. The Hausers practice dissimulation from birth. Nothing he says can be trusted. Nothing at all.”

“He has just confessed to Treason and Heresy. And I have sentenced him to Death. Should I pardon him?”

It took the Governor a moment to comprehend all this.

“Excellent work Inquisitor,” he said, completely reversing his earlier tack. “We can execute him in the Agora with the other condemned as part of the Reconsecration ceremonies.” The use of ‘we’ showed a considerable misunderstanding of the true relationship between the Governor and the Inquisitor, however the Inquisitor did nothing to correct the Governor’s impression. Give him enough rope and who knew how many he would hang. He also noted the Governor’s failure to mention a prohibition on executions promulgated by Planetary Legate Colonel Haygood. This order was issued to prevent ‘misunderstandings’ and of course did not apply to the Inquisitor, but it did have the force of Imperial Law and certainly applied to the Governor. It was doubtless for this reason that the Governor was trying to get the Inquisitor to condemn those he accused. If the Inquisitor had them executed, then it was not the Governor’s responsibility.

“So you think his confession true and reliable, Governor?”

“If it matches the evidence that I presented, yes. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Condemned is condemned. You can always Interrogate him to determine any accomplices.” The Governor may have been an able man in the past, but if this was any example of his judgment, the current state of affairs in Suwanee Province would be no surprise. The Inquisitor was also very interested in the Councilor’s silence. It showed good judgment and a fine understanding of the Governor’s character.

“Yes. That’s one of the reasons that I wanted to talk to you. I have reviewed the evidence you presented, and indeed everyone on the list seems Guilty.” Not surprising since everyone was Guilty of something. “I just have a question about Captain Gunther.

He should have been leading the People’s Guard detachment defending the Capitol. Instead it was being lead by Lieutenant Woltz. I cannot question him because other sources have confirmed that he was captured and taken away by the Eldar pirates. However, how was it that Captain Gunther and his bodyguard are unaccounted for?”

“I wasn’t there. I don’t know. Perhaps he was captured too.”

“No, the survivors agree that he was not there. It was unfortunate too. He and his command Chimera might well have changed the tide of battle.” Captain Woltz might have years of practice as an impassive aide, but the Inquisitor had even more practice in reading body language and state of mind. Captain Woltz was very interested in this conversation. Something which had been said interested him greatly. Was Lieutenant Woltz a close relative? On Norcross, there were a great many people, but because of strict adherence to tradition and dislike of outsiders, there were relatively few family names. Very confusing for an uninformed outsider.

“Also Governor, what happened to the Ikon of Purity, the Charter of Reunion and the Regalia of Power held in the Capitol vaults?”

“The pirates took them when they captured the Capitol. They are looters. They took everything.”

“Not according to my information. The pirates slaughtered all their captives when they found the vaults empty. Their allies had promised them much loot and they were very disappointed.”

“Again my Lord, I was not there.” The ‘my Lords’ had started. The Inquisitor had learned that this was a sure sign of stress on Norcross.

“Exactly why were you not there Governor? Surely it was your Duty as Commander in Chief of the People’s Guard to lead them in the defense of the Capitol?.”

“No my Lord. I am Governor first. It was vital that I did not fall into enemy hands.” Councilor Hauser said nothing, but his look of contempt spoke volumes. It was lucky that only the Inquisitor could see the look.

“Why did it matter? If you had died defending the Capitol, another Governor could have been appointed. Councilor Hauser here could have been appointed to take over the reins of Government.” It was only with considerable effort that the Governor contained himself at all.

“Him!!! Him Governor!! A traitor in charge of the administration. That’s the main reason I had to save myself. With traitor like him in charge who knows what might have happened!”

“At least if I had been appointed Governor, I would have no longer been a traitor, or a coward,” said Councilor Hauser very quietly.

It was as the Inquisitor suspected. The Governor had saved himself, and probably lost the Capitol merely to prevent rivals from taking power. This was true Treason. Duty to the Imperium came before all else. One of the dangers of living on these isolated planets was that it was far too easy to forget the Duty owed at all times to the Ever-living Emperor. Who knows what Councilor Hauser might have done in similar circumstances? At least his defense that he was completely surrounded by rebels and grimly holding on to the Shrine of the Emperor as Bringer of Light was well supported by facts. His motives might be open to question, but his deeds showed loyalty.

“Proctor Paramedes, please have Councilor Hauser escorted to the holding cells.”

“Yes my Lord.” The Councilor left without protest. He seemed determined to play this out to the bitter end. Almost as soon as the Proctor had left the room he signaled that the Ecclesiarchy representative had arrived.

**********

The Inquisitor confirmed that he be admitted and was a little annoyed by the delay when the representative did not appear and the commotion going on outside the office. Proctor Paramedes had not signaled for help, so the situation was presumably under control, however the Inquisitor had other things to do, so he went to investigate. When he opened the door he found himself staring at Osfolio’s back, with the Proctor on his left and another two guards on his right, firmly blocking the entrance. In the outer office, partly obscured by a cloud if incense, was a large Ecclesiarchy delegation lead by the same High-Deakon who had admitted him to the Arch-Bishop. This time they were all in their most formal robes. It looked a little like they had come to Purify the Inquisitor’s office from the number of censers, Ikons and thuribles. With the continual chanting of prayers, it was difficult to hear. The Inquisitor had requested a representative, not an exorcism!

The Inquisitor turned to speak to the Proctor, but as soon as the High-Deakon saw him, he started shouting to make himself heard over the prayers and advanced toward the Inquisitor where the Proctor not-so-politely restrained him. His Under-Deakon tried to come to his aid, but he too was firmly restrained by the Proctor’s other arm.

“SILENCE!” demanded the Inquisitor, sub-vocalizers at full power. Obviously Silence had a different meaning here on Norcross. The priests barely interrupted their prayers, although they did intone them much more softly. The Under-Deakon ceased his struggles. The High-Deakon stopped for only a moment.

“I am the personal representative of Arch-Bishop Kosmedes. Personal representative of the Emperor on Norcross. I demand that you release me or I will condemn your soul to the eternal torment of the Eye.”

The Inquisitor looked at the Proctor.

“What is going on here?”

“These servants have laid hands on the personal representative of the Arch-Bishop, senior representative of the Ecclesiarchy in Pleasant Hill. They have committed Heresy. I demand that they be punished.”

“Proctor?”

“I was summoned at your direct request to receive the Ikon of Pella. These servants have no right to interfere with me. Release them to my charge and I will make them pay for this insult.” The Inquisitor tried the Mark of Command, but was not surprised that it did not work Finally, he reached inside himself and summoned up the full power of his person and authority. His gaze caught the High-Deakon like a small animal transfixed by a bright light.

“Stop High-Deakon.” The words were quiet, barely heard over the prayers, but the High-Deakon staggered as if hit by a powerful blow. Instead of struggling against the Proctor’s grip, he was now relying on it to hold him up. The Proctor had heard rumors of the Inquisitor’s killing gaze. This is the first time that he had seen it used.

“My Lord.” he said quickly, taking advantage of the break in the torrent of words, “ the High-Deakon refuses to allow me to search his followers and remove any weapons. He also refuses to enter without his entourage.”

“Oh, is that all. That is simple. Any outsider attempting to enter my presence without being searched must be assumed to be an assassin. Deal with them accordingly.”

Both the High-Deakon and Under-Deakon were released, but in such a way that they were clinging to each other for support. The Proctor was even stronger than he looked. No mean feat. With terrifying precision the Proctor and the three guards drew their pistols and unsheathed their swords, the crackle of the power field and it’s pale blue glow visible to all. The priests retreated reflexively to the far corners of the room leaving the High-Deakon and the Under-Deakon conspicuous in their isolation. Why was it that so few people responded to simple orders and required the Inquisitor to use force? Although crude and wasteful, the Inquisitor could see why the first act of many Inquisitors in a new city or on a new planet was a nice public mass execution of Heretics or Deviants. The Inquisition was not sufficiently feared here in Norcross. The Inquisitor had plans to do something about that too before he left Pleasant Hill.

**********.

Several minutes after he had re-joined Governor Jaeger, the Inquisitor received the perfunctory abasement of the two Deakons. His own salute was much more formal and more sincere. The Inquisitor might not respect the representatives of the Ecclesiarchy, but that did not lessen the Duty and Obedience owed to the Ever-living Emperor they represented. The High-Deakon did not even acknowledge Governor Jaeger until he had competed a complex abasement, hardly necessary in the present company. The Inquisitor wondered how anything got done here with all the ritual, honor and posturing, then, thinking about the efficiency of the administration and the defense forces, he realized that perhaps they didn’t get done.

“Inquisitor Brake, according to your Solemn Promise, Arch-Bishop Kosmedes demands the return of the Ikon of Pella.”

As the Inquisitor had noted before, the flow of language and reality itself seemed to operated differently here on Norcross. The Inquisitor’s perfect electro-graft memory could recall exactly the meeting with the Arch-Bishop. No promises had been made, certainly no Solemn Promises. Besides, he was an Inquisitor, the only Solemn Promise that mattered was the one he had given in person to the Emperor, to do everything and anything necessary to protect Mankind. The Inquisitor went over to his desk and retrieved a document.

“Captain Woltz, here is your receipt for the Ikon of Pella. I command you to turn it over to this ordained representative of the Ecclesiarchy.” Turning to the High-Deakon. “Captain Woltz has taken official responsibility for the Ikon. The Inquisition’s involvement is ended.”

All four pairs of eyes in the room turned and fixed on Captain Woltz, the guards didn’t count. The Inquisitor was an expert at reading emotions and thoughts from the face and posture. The Inquisitor was quite sure that Captain Woltz had just committed a major Heresy. He had wished for a rift in the Warp to open up and some unknown agency to reach out any carry him off out of this place, ANYWHERE but here.

“Captain Woltz, by the authority of Arch-Bishop Kosmedes, I demand that you surrender the Ikon of Pella,” said the High-Deakon preferring the direct approach. Captain Woltz looked from face to face around the room, helplessly. His gaze lingered on Governor Jaeger longer than the others. The High-Deakon was not about to tolerate any delay or excuses.

“I cannot turn over the Ikon. I no longer have it.”

The High-Deakon looked accusingly at Inquisitor Brake, was this a trick? He the advanced to assail Captain Woltz from point-blank range.

“Who did you give it to!!!” The High-Deakon could use a few verses of the Prayers of Patience and Forbearance thought the Inquisitor. The Captain cowered under the assault, almost cringing as if from a physical lash rather than a verbal one. He though for a moment choosing his words like expensive jewels.

“I am not permitted to say.” A good choice, throw the responsibility on to someone else.

“I am the personal representative of Arch-Bishop Kosmedes. Personal representative of the Emperor on Norcross. I demand that you release the Ikon of Pella to me or I will condemn your soul to the eternal torment of the Eye.” The look on Captain Woltz’s face suggested that eternal torment might not be that bad.

“I am not permitted to say.” There was very little defiance, only resignation.

The Inquisitor wondered what hold Governor Jaeger had over him that would inspire such loyalty.

“High-Deakon, I can be of assistance here. Lugar, seize this man.” Lugar leapt forward with surprising speed, changing from almost a statue to a beast of prey in a moment, completely surprising the Inquisitor’s guests. It was strange, the Inquisitor thought, how after only a few minutes everyone tended to forget that his guards were even in the room. Captain Woltz did not struggle.

“In my Examination chambers I have Interrogator Grauman. He is the best Interrogator in this whole sector. He will be able to break the Captain down very quickly, and I doubt that he will suffer very much permanent damage at all.” At this Captain Woltz collapsed very theatrically. You would think that the Governor’s aide would be made of sterner stuff. “Don’t worry High-Deakon, Grauman will break him in a few hours, he doesn’t appear to be very strong.”

“That will not be necessary,” said Governor Jaeger. “I have the Ikon of Pella. It is in the official custody of the Civil Authorities. I plan to return it to Arch-Redemptor Kyrinov myself.” The High-Deakon gathered himself for another assault but the Governor launched a preemptive strike. “No High-Deakon, I will not turn the Ikon over to you. If the Arch-Bishop wants me to hand it over to him he can come here and petition for an audience.” The look on the High-Deakon’s face suggested that the Arch-Bishop would arrive shortly after he started sacrificing young men and women to Slaanesh on the altar of his own cathedral.

“I take this as a Solemn Promise to the Arch-Bishop, and a Blood-Oath to the Ecclesiarchy. I will inform him accordingly.” With that the High-Deakon gave a short and casual blessing in the vague direction of the Inquisitor’s desk, and, mustering his considerable dignity, marched out of the room. The effect was spoiled somewhat because the guard refused to open the door without the Inquisitor’s command.

“Thank-you for putting him in his place, my Lord. The Ecclesiarchy here on Norcross has an inflated sense of it’s own power and importance.” More Heresy. The Inquisitor already had enough information to condemn the governor ten times over. It would be wise to act soon before he committed further crimes. It would shorten the Correction period.

“You may go Governor,” said the Inquisitor and turned back to his desk leaving the Governor with the problem of how to get his unconscious aide out of the room. There was much work to do.

**********

Later in the day, the Inquisitor was disturbed from his work by the arrival of Scriptor Karpus. This was an interruption that he had looked forward to.

“I am now fit for service my Lord. Interrogator Grauman has completed his repairs and testing, and from his reading of the Prayers of Diagnosis and the Rites of Efficiency, my electro-graft is now performing as 97% efficiency. What task do you have for me?”

The attack on the zeppelin showed that good could flow from anything. The Inquisitor had discovered his poisoning and the damage to the Scriptor resulted in repairs which made him even better than before. The Inquisitor spoke a brief prayer of Thanks which the Scriptor echoed.

It was the work of only a few minutes to give the Scriptor most of the files that the Inquisitor had been studying and, over the next hour, the Inquisitor was able to transfer his preliminary analysis directly to the Scriptor’s electro-graft through his leech contact. This was the most efficient way to bring the Scriptor up to date with the investigation and the Inquisitor was always after more efficiency.

So passed the remainder of the day. The Inquisitor analyzing and the Scriptor processing the dossiers.

It was still evening when the Inquisitor, who had gone to sleep early to prepare for a full tomorrow, was wakened by Proctor Paramedes, very carefully. Inquisitors were by their very nature and Duty paranoid, and waking one suddenly could be quite dangerous. Proctor Paramedes had developed the habit of noisily opening doors and bumping clumsily into furniture to announce his arrival and give the Inquisitor time the receive him or signal him not to approach. It was another of the thoughtful and intelligent decisions that the Inquisitor appreciated. Over the years the Inquisitor had accidentally killed two of his own guards who had woken him unexpectedly in stressful circumstances.

“My Lord, I have been summoned to meet with the Provincial Governor on an important matter. Have I your permission to go or do you want me to remain here?” The Proctor was not officially on duty and technically had the free run of the whole People’s Guard building so did not need to ask the Inquisitors permission. However, the Proctor was well aware of the political situation, especially being one of the heirs to his assassinated father. This oblique approach involved Inquisitor Brake in the matter without a formal request.

However much sense Governor Jaeger might have, Inquisitor Brake was sure that he would take no direct action against the Proctor here, and any ‘accidents’ would be investigated with ruthless efficiency. An attack on Proctor Paramedes was a second-hand attack on the Inquisitor himself. Even the Governor would not be that foolish.

“You have my permission Proctor.” Proctor Paramedes saluted and left the room. The Inquisitor wondered what it was that the governor had to say at this time of night. While he was considering the possibilities, he noticed a faint scent on the night air. Incense, and fresh. A further puzzle. He got out of bed, put on his undress casual robe, and went over to the open balcony door. Osfolio nodded in acknowledgment and advanced to the railing to look for danger. At his sign the Inquisitor stepped out onto the balcony. Yes, the smell was stronger here, and he could hear prayers faintly. He looked over the edge down into the courtyard far below. He did not have the Scriptor’s enhanced vision, but he could make out a small Ecclesiastic delegation in the courtyard. It seemed that the governor had other visitors tonight. There wasn’t enough pomp and circumstance for the Arch-Bishop, so it was probably the High-Deakon or one of the other Deakons.

It was a pleasant cool night and the Inquisitor noticed that the smells of death and destruction that he had noted only a few days ago were now almost completely gone, and those that remained were from damage to the headquarters building itself. In some things at least the people of Pleasant Hill were efficient. Proctor Paramedes would report in the morning. Before retiring, the Inquisitor took the opportunity to recite two of the longer prayers of Thankfulness and Guidance. Tomorrow he would have finished his analysis and with the Scriptor’s help would determine the most Guilty. Then there would be the punishments.

**********

It was the dawn of a new day on Norcross, a day of Justice that few in Pleasant Hill would not soon forget. The Inquisitor awoke early, refreshed and ready. As was usual on such important days, he took extra time at his morning devotions to ask the Emperor for special Guidance, Resolution and Impartiality. Since he knew none of the Guilty personally, it was the Guidance that he needed the most, but an honest and fair Judgement was also his eternal goal. It was not unknown for Inquisitors to be partial. Such actions were an anathema to the Ordo Veritas. There wasn’t enough time to deal with all the truly Guilty, and it is impossible to Correct the least Guilty. They cannot Confess to crimes they have not committed and much time might be wasted determining their relative lack of Guilt, and the Inquisitor hated wasting time.

Proctor Paramedes ushered in Scriptor Karpus and made to leave but the Inquisitor stopped him with a gesture.

“My Lord?”

“You met with Governor Jaeger last night?” There as a definite tone of admonishment.

“No my Lord. I waited in an ante-room for over an hour when his aide informed my that the Governor was involved in another meeting and that I should return to my quarters if I heard nothing in the next hour. I waited, and then came back. I did not think that this was important enough to report immediately. I have noted the incident in the Official Log.”

“Do you know what he wanted?”

“No my Lord.” With that the Proctor was dismissed. Given the political situation on Norcross, and in Pleasant Hill in particular, the Inquisitor would rather that the Proctor had reported the incident in person. However, the Proctor was new to his service and still learning how to deal with the Inquisitor and so far the Proctor’s judgment had proved to be very good. The Inquisitor hoped that he had learned from this experience.

It was now time to get down to work. Another advantage of the electro-graft was that it could perform a certain amount of work while its host was sleeping. The Inquisitor had not done this but Scriptor Karpus had spent the whole night in a light sleep while his electro-graft organized all the information.

“In many ways things are very efficient here on Norcross, my Lord, in others very lax. There are Block Wardens of the Department of Safety on every corner in every town and their Shift Reports provide a comprehensive record of all movements. Also, before and during the recent troubles, a curfew was imposed so there are records of all movement of citizens. These records are not well organized, and there is no central machine spirit responsible for their analysis. There is not even a central registry of all movements. If the Department of Safety wants to track something or someone down they must search through the records by hand. This is very slow and inefficient, but provides the necessary information. The records are very detailed. Unfortunately about one quarter were damaged or destroyed in the recent uprising. Whatever Councilor Hauser may have done wrong, his transfer of most of the Department of Safety records to the vaults of his bank saved many valuable documents. From a simple examination of the records for the last three months I have identified a total of eight thousand two hundred and sixty-two citizens who have likely connections to the forbidden cult. Of these over four thousand are certainly guilty of actual cult membership. Of these only four hundred and sixteen are still alive. Six of them are Provincial Councilors. The rest of the uprising seems to have involved opportunistic crimes and the chance to loot and settle personal scores. An additional eight hundred and forty-two Guilty can be identified, the rest are dead. Of the Guilty, it is significant that only fifteen appear on the list provided by Governor Jaeger and, with the information at his disposal, I do not think that he knew about them. It is also unusual that only forty-eight of the Guilty were native Isolationists, and they are all dead, some having taken their own lives, others being murdered or executed by their own families. All the rest have Teuton ties or are off-worlders or recent immigrants. This is completely at odds with the Governor’s analysis.”

It was at times like this that Inquisitor Brake felt almost compelled to shout aloud his praise for the Emperor for providing an assistant like Scriptor Karpus. Taking the Inquisitor’s own information and the records provided by the Department of Safety, in only a single day the Scriptor had identified many of the truly Guilty. More work would be required, but there was plenty of work for Interrogator Grauman and his Examiners to begin with. The Inquisitor had already prepared his own list, and even now the first two hundred were being rounded up by the Department of Safety and the People’s Guard. In order to discourage flight, the Inquisitor had sent orders to the Interrogator that six of the seven leaders arrested be released after a preliminary Examination, along with twenty of their followers. This would encourage the rest to think that they could beat the Inquisition’s methods. An error they would discover to their full dismay later. Normally the Inquisitor would have rounded up everyone and all the suspects, but at the moment this would have diverted far too many resources from the defense of Suwanee province. He would have to go more slowly.

The Scriptor had only been looking for Cultists. The Inquisitor had been investigating the Provincial Council independently. He had separately come to the conclusion that every last member of the Provincial Council had been guilty of Treason of some sort. Mostly by failing to provide the appointed authority, the Provincial Governor, with complete loyalty and full support. This often happened when a Governor was weak. However, every official on every planet ultimately owed his full loyalty to the Ever-living Emperor, and any betrayal of a superior was a betrayal of the Emperor by proxy.

Councilor Hauser was condemned already, although he was far less Guilty than many others. The Inquisitor would start at the top and work his way down. The Provincial Governor must pay for his crimes. It would be a good example. As he prepared the arrest order he was disturbed by a priority call from Proctor Paramedes who he summoned into the room.

“My Lord, there is a representative from the Provincial Governor’s office here. The Governor has not woken this morning and he doesn’t answer knocks on his door. Captain Woltz asks for your assistance.”

Had the Governor anticipated his arrest and fled? If so Justice would follow him to the ends of the galaxy.

**********

The Inquisitor and his guards looked nothing like the battered crew that had arrived a week ago. There were no bandages and no limps and it would be a very acute observer indeed who noticed Scriptor Karpus’ missing finger. The Inquisitor had decided to make this a minor show of force, and the sight of the seven of them, Inquisitor Brake, Scriptor Karpus, Proctor Paramedes and four Nemesis guards in their enameled scarlet power armor left no doubt in anyone’s mind that they were ready for anything. The servos in the armor allowed them to march at a pace which required the People’s guard sergeant, provided as a guide, to trot. It was typical of Norcross that this section of the building had the only transport cabin but that the cabin ran only from the reception area at the courtyard, up to the Governor’s suite on the tenth floor of the main tower. A complete waste.

When the Inquisitor exited the cabin he was met by Captain Woltz and what he assumed were most of the Governor’s personal staff in a large ante-chamber. At one end was a pair of large and tall doors decorated with a particularly ornate and baroque crest, presumably the Governor’s. The Inquisitor was received with all the respect and dignity to which he was entitled and more besides, a sure sign on Norcross of stress and possible Guilt, but at least it made up in some small way for the generally insulting behavior of the Governor. The Inquisitor waited for Captain Woltz to begin, but from the way he quailed under the Inquisitor’s gaze it might be a long wait. Proctor Paramedes broke the silence.

“You have summoned the Inquisition, where are the Guilty?” An excellent choice of words the Inquisitor thought. Not ones that he could have delivered himself, but given the circumstances and general situation perfect for the Proctor.

Captain Woltz looked at the Proctor but addressed Inquisitor Brake.

“My Lord. Governor Jaeger has not woken up this morning and does not respond. What should we do?” Captain Woltz was either a complete fool or had a real problem. The Inquisitor decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“You are his aide, what do you know about his security measures?” It seemed superfluous to ask if the door was locked or if anyone had a key or knew of a way in. If things were that simple he would not have been summoned, he hoped.

“My Lord, these apartments were built for Councilor Irwin Coburg when he was Controller of Information and Education. He was not a popular man and survived over forty assassination attempts. These chambers were one of the few places that he could feel safe. The walls are reinforced with adamantium. The doors move outward then slide to one side and are designed to jam shut if attacked with explosives. There is a self-contained air and power supply. The windows have plasti-steel threads imbedded in the glass, and the mullions are also made from adamantium. The door had a special encode lock which will respond to only the Governor, me and the Officer of the Day. There is also a separate security over-ride which can lock the doors from the inside. Since the lock does not respond to me this must be activated. The governor also sleeps with an automated gas trap. If anyone enters the room and does not enter the correct security code, the gas is released and a sonic alarm sounds. The gas is fatal within an hour, but the governor has a special antidote implant. In case of emergency, I can deactivate the trap.”

The Inquisitor had marveled at the paranoia of the Teutons before, but this set a whole new standard. The resources wasted on this suite could have protected a hundred of the Emperor’s defenders. It wasn’t merely a waste, it was a criminal waste. Inquisitor Brake didn’t know what action High Inquisitor Sigismondo would recommend, but he was an Inquisitor of the old Fire and Sword school, most of the time. The next twenty years on Norcross might well be a rude shock for all. However, that was all in the future. The Inquisitor examined the control mechanism himself. The door was locked. He tried the standard Inquisition over-ride codes, but they did not work either.

“Scriptor, can you over-ride the lock on this door?”

“No my Lord. According to the designs, the lock has its own self-contained mechanical cogitator. It cannot be over-ridden.”

This was one of the difficulties of working on a backward planet. Almost any standard Imperial machine spirit had Inquisitorial over-rides so that the spirit could be tested for orthodoxy. Here machine spirits were rare, and mechanical cogitators required no Inquisitorial examination. The Inquisitor turned back to Staff-Captain Woltz, waiting with increasing nervousness.

“You know Governor Jaeger and his suite. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Yes, I do, my Lord. If we go up onto the roof of the tower, I could be lowered on a rope down to the level of the governor’s suite. I have a mono-molecular power blade, and I think that I can pry the windows open. I can then deactivate the trap and open the door from the inside. I will trigger some of the security alarms. That is why I warned you, my Lord. I didn’t want you to suspect an attack when the alarms when off.”

Another practitioner of the Blame shared is Blame avoided philosophy, a common school here on Norcross. The Captain had obviously planned this approach all along but had involved the Inquisition in case anything went wrong. If only the people here would spend as much effort dealing with problems as they did avoiding possible blame if things went wrong. Still, this was not an attitude unique to Norcross. The same sort of thing could be found amongst the High Lords of Terra even. The Inquisitor muttered a brief prayer of Forgiveness for such a Heretical thought, but it was the truth.

The Inquisitor watched from a neighboring tower. Like all plans it was much easier to describe than execute. As soon as they got up on the roof of the governor’s suite alarms sounded. Some could be turned off, others could not. The roof of the tower overhung the sides of the tower by some considerable distance, so dangling straight down above a 100 foot fall to his death in the courtyard below, the Captain could not reach the windows. Proctor Paramedes, who was strong enough to support the weight with one hand when in his power armor, hauled the Captain back up to the roof. After an animated discussion Lugar handed his power sword over to the Captain who was then lowered back over the side. The new plan was more subtle than the Inquisitor had thought. He expected the Captain to use the power sword to hack his way through the windows but, instead, the Proctor swung the rope so that the Captain moved like the weight in the end of a pendulum. At one end of the arc he was well out over the courtyard. At the other he thumped lightly into the windows. After two tries he managed to activate the sword and bury the blade deep within the stone of the wall and then quickly turn off the power field. This gave him a secure hand hold. With his other hand he was then able to insert the knife between the window’s two lights, setting off yet another loud alarm, and cut through the catch. Like the door, the windows opened outward, and once open more alarms sounded, but Captain Woltz was able to drag himself over the window sill and into the room. He cut the rope with a quick slash and disappeared inside. There was no gas explosion and one by one the sirens, bells and buzzers fell silent.

The Inquisitor returned to the governor’s suite and waited with Scriptor Karpus, who had remained behind on watch, as the doors opened revealing Captain Woltz.

“My Lord, the governor is dead.”

**********

Governor Jaeger was indeed dead. Lying peacefully in bed. Just the sort of death that most high officials prayed for. Everything looked normal, but the Inquisitor looked very carefully around the room. The first thing that he noticed as soon as he entered was the oppressive heat. The room had an electric heater and it was turned to its maximum setting. The Inquisitor looked at it closely. He couldn’t possibly sleep in such a warm room. The remainder of the chamber was sumptuously furnished and reminded the Inquisitor of certain forbidden Cults, but lacked the necessary symbolism. The layout was very simple. There were mullioned windows on two sides of the room overlooking the courtyard. The windows were securely locked, except for the one used by Captain Woltz. There the fresh cut metal and marks on the frame confirmed his method of entry. To the right of the door was an office area with a control console and desk and shelves full of books. The dust on the books spoke to both the quality of the housekeeping and the reading interests of the Governor. To the left of the door was a large canopied bed decorated with scenes from the Emperor’s life. An inspiration before sleep and a reminder of Duty upon awakening. There was a small desk beside the bed and some seats built into the wall below the windows overlooking the courtyard. On the opposite wall was a fine Ikon of the Emperor in a niche in the modern Imperial style. There was a fine and thick carpet on the floor and several painting on the walls, some obviously relatives of the Governor, three of the Governor himself in different uniforms. The Governor would not be committing the sin of Vanity again.

The Inquisitor realized the inconsistency of the room and examined the wall next to the entry doors more closely. This was a self-contained suite built by a paranoid. He would hardly want to leave it, so where was the Lavatorium? Where was the closet? The wall contained two concealed doors. They would have been almost impossible to spot if the wood had been kept polished, but there were faint signs of grime showing where the hidden catches were. The Inquisitor opened the first, and it revealed a glorious Lavatorium, almost a shrine to personal cleanliness. It was otherwise empty. Beside it the other door revealed not only a closet, but a complete dressing room. Inside were uniforms for every occasion and every day of the week. On Norcross no uniform maker would go out of business soon. Even accounting for the Lavatorium and the plumbing and the dressing room, there was still a large space in the wall unaccounted for, so the Inquisitor examined the wall again. He could see no sign of a door, but by assuming that there was one, he was able to find the catch to a third door, obviously unused. This revealed a machinery and service space containing what he assumed to be self-contained air supply and a power generator. He did not know when it had been anointed last by the local Tech-Priests, but from the patina of grime, he doubted that any of the operating prayers would be at anything like full strength. In fact, he doubted that the equipment would work at all. The last thing missing was the drink. This was Norcross and from what the Inquisitor had observed nothing was accomplished without drink. Under each of the window seats the Inquisitor found a self-contained wine cellar. Enough drink to last normal people a year, but probably only a week for the Governor.

The Inquisitor looked at the Governor’s body as carefully as possible without touching anything. There was no sign of any injury, no sign of blood, no sign of a struggle. It looked like a normal peaceful death. Very convenient however. The Inquisitor wanted another opinion so he signaled Proctor Paramedes to send for Grauman. His expertise would be valuable.

While he waited the Inquisitor went out to question Captain Woltz.

“This door is the only way out of the room?”

“Yes my Lord, as far as I know. Controller Coburg was very careful about his security.”

“What happened last night?”

“The Governor had some private meetings, my Lord.”

“With whom?”

“I don’t know exactly, my Lord. I wasn’t present.” This was like the Examination process. Limited co-operation at every step. The Inquisitor would be an old man if he kept on this way.

“Tell me what happened last night?”

“The Governor retired to his suite early. He has some papers to review. He then sent instructions for High-Deakon Croton, Citizen Paramedes, and Councilor Hauser to be summoned. They arrived and I was dismissed. After they arrived I didn’t see the Governor until I climbed in through the windows.”

How could Councilor Hauser have been here? He was a prisoner in the cells.

“Was that Councilor Bruno Hauser? I know of no other. You saw him arrive?”

“Yes my Lord, I saw him brought up from the holding cells myself.” Something was wrong here. Councilor Hauser was Condemned. He should not be out of his cell without the Inquisitor’s knowledge. Someone would be punished for this lapse.

“You saw the others leave?”

“No my Lord. I saw Councilor Hauser escorted back to the cells. High-Deakon Croton complained that he was not going to waste his time any more and left. I did not see Citizen Paramedes leave.”

“Proctor Master Paramedes is the commander of my Nemesis guard. Any insult to him is an insult to the Inquisition.”

“I am very sorry, my Lord, I had forgotten his correct rank.” Not very likely.

The Inquisitor had been conducting the questioning with a small part of his mind while the rest considered the facts.

“Where is the Ikon of Pella?”

“It was in the Governor’s room when he went to bed, my Lord.”

The Inquisitor motioned for Proctor Paramedes to stand guard and for the Captain and Scriptor Karpus to follow him back into the room.

“Where was it?”

“It was there on his desk, my Lord.”

Well it wasn’t on his desk any more. The Inquisitor looked very carefully indeed and could see the faint indentation on a piece of paper that might have indicated where the Ikon had been.

“Did High-Deakon Croton have it with him when he left?”

“I didn’t see it, but it could have been under his robes, my Lord.”

A dead Governor and a missing Ikon. What had started out so well was going bad fast.

**********

First things first. If the Ikon was still in the room, it would not be leaving. If it was still in the building it would be difficult to get out, especially after orders were given to search everyone without exception. Finally the building itself could be searched, but given the size, that might well take a long time. The Inquisitor gave orders to seal off the building and search everyone leaving. The search of the building itself could wait. While the orders were being given, Interrogator Grauman arrived, with two of his Examiners. From the way they were treated by the former Governor’s staff either soul-eating daemons were about to leap from their bodies or they were carriers of a fatal and painful and very contagious disease, possible both.

“Interrogator, Governor Jaeger has died suddenly. I would like to know how. It seems that he has died of natural causes, but it may have been murder.”

The Interrogator bowed and said nothing He was wearing his black mask as the Finder of Truth so nothing was visible of his features, but the Inquisitor had learned to read the way he moved, his posture and his walk. The Interrogator was interested. Like all men, the Interrogator had his weaknesses. He obeyed faithfully all orders, but his true genius was brought to bear only on those things which interested him. Things that puzzled the Inquisitor often interested Grauman. Proper management of the Interrogator also reminded the Inquisitor that that Grauman was a colleague, albeit a junior colleague, not a servant like Scriptor Karpus.

“Scriptor. Councilor Hauser is in the holding cells. The Captain here tells me that he was brought up to meet with the Governor last night. I was not informed. Why?” It was impossible that the Scriptor would be responsible for this lapse, it was more likely someone of the Interrogator’s staff. The Scriptor would find out.

The Inquisitor watched the Scriptor as he accessed the appropriate information, but could see some problem with his response. With one of his characteristic nods, the Inquisitor insisted on a response. The Scriptor thought a few moments more, carefully framing his answer.

“My Lord, because of limited space here, Interrogator Grauman has no holding cells. The only holding cells in the building are under the control of the People’s Guard. They are mostly used for prisoners awaiting execution.”

There was no “as you should know, my Lord” attached to this statement or even hinted at by the Scriptor’s delivery, but the Inquisitor felt the admonition none-the-less. The Inquisitor had inspected the facilities while impaired and had failed to notice the arrangement of the cells. Another mistake!!! He would have to say many prayers to atone for this error. He also made a note to review all his actions for more signs of similar mistakes. It would be difficult to analyze his own actions in retrospect but it was something that had to be done. At least he now knew why the Scriptor had a problem The Inquisitor also realized that at the same time the Scriptor was out of commission too so no blame could attach to him, not that that would stop some Inquisitors. In the Ordo Veritas no one was punished for telling the Truth. Of course there were many ways of presenting the truth.

“Thank you, Scriptor. Have him transferred to Interrogator Grauman’s custody. Make sure that I am informed of any mistreatment. Please retrieve a list of every one who has

left the building in the last day. If the Ikon of Pella has been taken, then they must have left a record.” Breathing was about the only activity on Norcross that did not leave a record of some sort. The Inquisitor himself has reviewed the sewage records.

The Inquisitor turned back to Captain Woltz.

“How does the security system work Captain?”

“I don’t know exactly, my Lord. There is a lever beside the bed which activates the Prayers of Protection and Containment. This closes the door and disables the external controls. The Governor’s gas trap is operated by a separate control.”

“Have you seen the Governor activate the Prayers of Protection and Containment?”

“Yes my Lord. Many times. The Governor frequently met other Councilors in his private suite.”

“Would it be possible to activate the Prayers and then run out of the room before the doors closed?”

“No my Lord. It is too far.” The Inquisitor doubted that Captain Woltz had any real idea just how far someone could move in a short time. His experience was too limited. The Inquisitor made a note to check.

“You have told me that there is no way into the room but by that door and the locked windows, that the door was locked from the inside using a control by the Governor’s bed and that no one could have activated the control and then left the room?”

“Yes my Lord. That is exactly correct.” Some of the Captain’s earlier replies had seemed a little evasive, perhaps from fear, perhaps from Guilt. This reply was illuminated by the pure light of Truth.

One of the Examiners approached the Inquisitor and beckoned to follow him back into the room. Many of the Interrogator’s Examiners were mute. Voices were often of little use in the Interrogation process. The subject’s cries and screams would drown out normal conversation.

**********

Interrogator Grauman had thrown back the bedclothes and stripped the body. The comparative lack of implants showed the backward nature of Norcross. The man had been healthy but slight and old.

“My Lord, this man was killed. He did not die of natural causes. His breathing was stopped.”

“He was strangled Grauman?”

“No my Lord, he was probably smothered. Strangulation usually produces the characteristic Eyes of Blood and there is bruising of the throat. This is not the case here.” Interrogator Grauman was expert in death in all its forms.

“Would one of these pillows done the job?”

“Yes my Lord, but many other things would be suitable too.” Grauman was always willing to tell what he knew, but very reluctant to speculate. This was a very valuable trait in an Interrogator, but less valuable in an investigation. The trick to getting the best out of Grauman was to ask the right questions.

“Can you give an approximate time of death Grauman?”

“Yes my Lord, sometime in the last twelve hours.”

“That is not much help, he was seen alive less than eight hours ago!”

“Well then my Lord, you have better information than me.”

“Why such a broad time range, your information is usually much more precise?”

“Once the soul leaves the body, decay and corruption sets in. There are stages to be passed through. Unfortunately, the high temperature in the room and the bedclothes have resulted in unusual results. I am fairly certain that he did not die in the period between two and six hours ago.” The Inquisitor had hoped for better information than this. He considered this new information for a moment.

“Was there any sign of a struggle?”

“No my Lord.”

“Would you not expect someone to wake and struggle if someone tried to smother them as they slept.”

“I do not know my Lord. It is not my Duty to speculate.” Indeed it was not. Speculation was not encouraged in Interrogators. An Interrogator who speculated too much tended to lead the Examination and Interrogation process according to their own ideas, not the Way of Truth to Uncover the Guilty. It was usual to give an Interrogator the least possible information about the crimes of the subjects. The Examination and Interrogation process is very difficult. If the Interrogator knows too much, they tend to concentrate on this and two bad things may happen. Either they explore this to the exclusion of other crimes the subject may have committed, thus preventing a full confession and so causing a failed Correction, or they get a false confession from the subject. False confessions are even worse. The subject cannot be truly saved for they have not confessed to their true crimes and they have committed a further crime by making a false confession. They are truly damned. In order to reveal the false confession much time and many resources must be wasted. There are so many Guilty and so little time. The Inquisitor hated wasting time. And it was his Duty to speculate. Of course someone would struggle if they were awakened by a pillow over their face.

“There was no signs of a blow or other damage.”

“I have only been able to make a cursory examination, but I see no evidence of force of any sort. The body was lying at rest. My Lord.”

The Inquisitor moved over to the body and opened the mouth. He stuck the little finger of his left hand inside and rubbed it around. A faint foul taste filled his mouth as the electoo in the finger signaled the faint presence of some poison. The Inquisitor’s electoo was connected to his sense of taste. The Inquisitor’s electro-graft contained information on most known poisons, but there were always new worlds and new plants and animals and mutants too. From the taste, the poison was some sort of plant alkaloid. The Inquisitor quickly looked around the room again and confirmed his earlier search. There was no drinking vessel by the bed, nor any other used one in the room. Of course the Governor could have drunk some drugged wine, cleaned the glass, put it way and then gone to bed, but the Governor hadn’t seemed to be that sort of person.

The Inquisitor then went into the Lavatorium dampened a wash cloth and cleaned his finger. He went back into the room and ran his finger over the Governor’s face. There were very slight traces of the poison there too. In fact, there were very slight traces of poison on nearly everything in the room. Interrogator Grauman watched this whole business with considerable detachment. He was used to the Inquisitor’s strange behavior. Each to their own Way of Truth.

“Interrogator, this man has been poisoned. This whole room is contaminated with poison. It is not very strong.”

“I will send for Examiner Yellow my Lord, he has the best poison instruments. We have a lot of experience with the assassin downstairs. However, what I said earlier stands this man was smothered not poisoned.”

“Yes Grauman, I realize that. But it is a great deal easier to smother a man who has been drugged first, and a lot safer and quicker too. Would you please leave the room. I have a test to perform.”

“Certainly my Lord” The Interrogator and his Examiners retired.

**********

The Inquisitor searched around the head of the bed and found the lever mentioned by Captain Woltz. He sent a warning to Scriptor Karpus and tried to move the lever, but it did not. He then realized that it had a safety catch button to prevent accidental activation. There was a brief warning hoot, and the door to the room closed very quickly indeed. The Captain had not exaggerated. The Inquisitor used the lever to open the doors, and they opened a great deal more slowly and with no warning. The Inquisitor faced the Governor’s personal Ikon and intoned the verses of Certain Retribution and Swift Striking from the Catechism of Faith. He felt the Divine strength of the Emperor surge through his body. Again he turned to the bed and as he operated the lever, he flung himself toward the door, bionic legs at full boost. At the very last moment he hit the door rather than try to fit through the narrowing space. He was a little shaken and only then realized the folly of his actions. If he had gotten caught in the door, even if he had not been killed, it would be very difficult to rescue him. Again he opened the door. When fortified with these Prayers, the Inquisitor was literally inhumanly fast. He was aided by the spirit of the Emperor. If he has persisted, some parts of him might well have made it out of the door before it closed. For him to get out completely he would need to be much faster still. No normal person could possibly get through the door, and few abnormal ones either. The safety button made it almost impossible to operate the lever using a cord or a pole. Besides, they would still have been there when the Captain broke in. No, it seemed conclusive, the room had been locked from the inside.

The Inquisitor also realized that not only was the Ikon of Pella missing, so was it’s ornate carrying case. High-Deakon Croton might well be able to conceal the Ikon of Pella on his person, the carrying case would be a great deal more difficult. He looked around the room again. To assume theft was the easy choice. The Inquisitor considered other possibilities. Beside the bed was the most magnificent portrait of the Governor, and as self-important as he was, that wasn’t the best place to display it in the room. Also, the portrait was too large for the space in which it was hung. The Inquisitor looked more closely. Unlike the other pictures, this one was mounted directly on the wall. Except for the fact that the room was over one hundred feet high and the wall faced the outside, the Inquisitor might have suspected that it hid a secret door. Still, there seemed to be signs of wear on the frame and after a moment the Inquisitor found another secret catch and the painting swung away from the wall to reveal Heresy!

Not terrible heresy, but heresy none-the-less. In a niche in the wall revealed behind the painting was the Ikon of Pella in its case. The Governor had been using one of the most sacred items in the Imperium, and undoubtedly the most sacred item on Norcross for his private use. This was a dangerous heresy. The sanctity of sacred objects was determined in large part by the manner of their worship. The Ikon of Pella must be worshipped by a thousand priests and a million citizens. To have one as insignificant as Governor Jaeger worship it was demeaning to all the others. It seemed like a very private sin. If anyone knew about the secret Devotions it would be Captain Woltz. The Inquisitor made a note to add these questions to the Examination. The Inquisitor said three prayers of Thanks and closed the Ikon up, removed it from the niche and closed the painting back into place.

Things were much simpler now. There was only the murder to consider, and that was not so important. However, that might be too simple. He went back out into the ante-chamber.

“Interrogator Grauman. I want that body looked at carefully. I want the whatever you can find out about the time and manner of death. I want the body checked for poisons. Report to me before the evening meal. As soon as you return to the Examination area, have Councilor Hauser sent up for questioning.” This speech was as much for the consumption of Governor’s staff as Grauman. Grauman would follow the orders, he would not question them.

“Scriptor Karpus. I have located the Ikon of Pella. Send a message to Supreme Patriarch Basil and tell, no, ask him to send a representative to receive the Ikon from the Inquisition at midday. Also, summon High-Deakon Croton for an immediate meeting.” There was no reaction at all from Captain Woltz and there seemed to be no reaction from any of the Governor’s staff. “Take Osfolio and Haakon and search that room thoroughly for secret panels, doors and cupboards. I want to make sure that there is nowhere for anyone to have hidden in there. There may also be secret files. You have my authority to open and read any documents you might find. Report to me by midday.”

“Captain Woltz. Make arrangements for the Governor’s funeral and inform Colonel Junker of the Governor’s death. None of the staff leaves this building without my permission.”

“Proctor Paramedes, accompany me back to my quarters, there I much work to do.”

**********

Back in his office, the Inquisitor prepared to get back to his work until High-Deakon Croton arrived. Before he dismissed Proctor Paramedes he asked

“Captain Woltz was the aide that you spoke to last night when you were summoned to meet the Governor?”

“Yes my Lord. There were also one or two other junior staff or servants about.”

“Thank you.” The Proctor was dismissed.

Grauman had been hard at work. His preliminary reports on some of the early Examinations confirmed the Inquisitor’s information. However, some new Guilty had been identified, some living in Buford. The Inquisitor took this opportunity to prepare another report for High Inquisitor Sigismondo. Undoubtedly he had his own sources of information. He needed to monitor Inquisitor Brake in the unlikely event the Inquisitor became corrupted in some way. It would save time all round if a full account of the current events was sent on. The Inquisitor also noticed that there was a report on the assassin. He was still alive and in relatively good health, not counting the numerous broken bones, and the bad state of his left hand. Still, it was always good to let one’s superior know that their orders were being obeyed. In case the High Inquisitor did not already have the documents, the Inquisitor also sent him a copy of the orders from the Temple Master, the Ordo Sicarius and the Black Lord.

He then spent the next couple of hours hard at work preparing Arrest and Examination schedules. The facilities here in Pleasant Hill were so limited. He was used to managing large sweeps where all the Guilty were arrested at once. It showed the full power of the Inquisition far better when ten thousand men came knocking on a thousand doors all at once. It also made it a lot easier to catch those that fled. His current plan would be effective but inefficient.

The first to report in was Scriptor Karpus. He confirmed that there was no killer hiding anywhere in the suite and there was no secret way in or out. He produced two piles of documents, one the Governor’s private papers which would be valuable in determining the true extent of the Guilt of others. The second, smaller, pile of papers would have brought the Governor instant condemnation had they been discovered. The Governor was deeply involved in forbidden activities. The information in them also condemned several others, including Captain Woltz. With all this corruption at the top, it was no surprise at the current state of affairs in Suwanee. Finally, the Proctor produced a heavily jeweled broad bladed straight sword in an equally ornate scabbard. The Inquisitor drew the sword from the scabbard and noted the odd shaped blade with curved edges. The surface of the blade was covered with some of the finest inlay and engraving work the Inquisitor had ever seen. Many of the symbols could be interpreted has having pagan meanings, but the Inquisitor also recognized the symbol of Chiros, the old Spartan god who was revealed to be an aspect of the Emperor. This sword must be part of the Regalia of Power, the battle equipment of the old Spartan king, supposedly lost in the looting of the Capitol by the Eldar pirates. Another reason to condemn the dead Governor, but also a sign of other Treason and Heresy. The Scriptor also reported no sign of poisons or drugs in the wine, or anywhere else in the room. The Governor’s gas trap had been under the bed and had not been activated, and the poison it contained was a simple choking gas. The Proctor had removed the trap for Grauman’s further study.

The Inquisitor kept the papers for his files and instructed the Scriptor to put the sword in the safe room. Barely after the Scriptor left there was a knock at the door and Proctor Paramedes announced that High-Deakon Croton had arrived, so the Inquisitor had him brought in.

**********

High-Deakon Croton was a lot more subdued than on their last meeting. He was alone and he was wearing third or fourth grade robes. If he had an entourage, they had been left far behind. He advanced to the Inquisitor’s desk his eyes downcast. His bow was deep and apparently sincere. Of course the High-Deakon might have worked out that the Inquisitor had the Ikon of Pella. His superiors wouldn’t want the High-Deakon’s actions to delay its return.

“High-Deakon, you were summoned to meet with Governor Jaeger last night?”

“Yes my Lord.”

“Why were you summoned?”

“I do not know my Lord.”

“Tell me what happened then.”

“The Governor sent a message to Arch-Bishop Kosmedes asking for me to meet with him. No reason was given, but we both assumed that it was to make arrangements for the return of the Ikon of Pella. In case it was, I assembled my priests and censer bearers and came at the appointed time. I was ushered into an ante-room and waited. The Governor was busy with someone else. I waited for nearly two hours and then left to complete the evening Purification. It was wrong of the Governor to use the Ecclesiarchy so. I hear that he had already been punished for his sins, May His Soul Rest in Peace.”

“That will not be happening High-Deakon. His soul is damned. The evidence of his crimes is so great that I doubt that he can be saved. Perhaps your threat of eternal torment in the Eye has come to pass.” The High-Deakon bowed his head in shame at this reminder as his earlier arrogance. Perhaps it was an act, perhaps he had been admonished by the Arch-Bishop or perhaps he had finally remembered who the Inquisitor was and what he represented. Whatever the case, it showed intelligence and the ability to learn.

“Who did you see while you were waiting for the Governor?”

“I saw his aide Staff-Captain Woltz and some of his servants. That is all. I was alone apart from my Under-Deakon.” The Inquisitor would have to check to see how the Under-Deakon had been overlooked before.

“Did you hear anything unusual?”

“No my Lord. I was engaged mostly in prayer. Perhaps I heard someone else arrive, and I think that here was someone in the room next door. As you know, proper prayer requires complete dedication.” This might be a statement or it might be a veiled admonishment. The Inquisitor wasn’t sure which given the High-Deakon’s demeanor. Another thought occurred to the Inquisitor. He was almost certain that no one person could have operated the lever and closed the door to the Governor’s chamber. He had not considered the possibility of two murderers working together. He would have to give that more thought.

“Thank you High-Deakon,” he said dismissing him. However, after a powerful Blessing of the Inquisitor and the Inquisition in general, the High-Deakon did not leave. The Inquisitor ignored him for a short time, but when it became clear that he was not going to leave, he nodded to indicate that the High-Deakon was free to speak.

“My Lord. Supreme Patriarch Basil has appointed me to receive the Ikon of Pella.” The Inquisitor was a little surprised at this. He expected that the Arch-Bishop himself might come. He then realized that it would probably be the Arch-Bishop that received the Ikon at the Shrine.

“By yourself High-Deakon?”

“No my Lord. The Holy Procession is in the courtyard.”

The Inquisitor walked over to one of the windows with a commanding arc of fire over the courtyard and indeed he could see indistinctly, through the thick rising cloud of incense that it was crowded with battalions of priests, companies of censer bearers, assault squads of choirs and all the other personnel the Ecclesiarchy deemed necessary for a Holy Procession. If the windows had been open, the smell of incense might well have been strong enough to fumigate the apartments. The Inquisitor had fielded armies smaller than the Holy Procession. It was a little before the appointed time but the sooner the Ikon was out of the Inquisition’s hands, the better. The Inquisitor moved over to the alcove in his office and, after saying a prayer of Thankfulness to his own Ikon, took the case beside it and brought it back to his desk. The Inquisitor could see that the High-Deakon was horrified.

“You are not going to give it to me here!” he blurted out and retreated slightly. Treating the case as if it contained a bomb.

“Yes High-Deakon. I asked for a representative to receive the Ikon. You are the representative. You are going to take the Ikon.” The Inquisitor was not exactly annoyed, but he was very puzzled. The Ecclesiarchy had been trying to get the Ikon for several days. Now they didn’t want it. The Inquisitor was even more surprised as the High-Deakon prostrated himself.

“My Lord. I am not worthy. I do not have my regalia. I do not have my Deakons or priests. My Lord, I beg you. Allow me to go down into the courtyard and prepare. We will be ready to receive it at the appointed hour.” On reflection, the Inquisitor did realize that the Ikon of Pella was indeed a very sacred item, and here in Pleasant Hill it would be more sacred anywhere than in the presence of the Emperor himself. To the Inquisitor it was a box containing a Sacred Relic. The High-Deakon was treating it as if it contained a Relic of the Emperor himself. In fact, he thought, to the High-Deakon, the Ikon of Pella WAS a Sacred Relic of the Emperor himself. He now had a choice. Antagonize the Ecclesiarchy or waste some time. Pleasant Hill was a place where public ceremony was important. Turning the Ikon over publicly would show the power of the Inquisition. That was not a waste of time.

“I will be in the courtyard at the appointed hour to turn over the Ikon. I trust that you will be ready.” The High-Deakon rose to his knees, bowed deeply and backed out of the room.

**********

The Inquisitor warned Proctor Paramedes to send the guards to check the windows and rooftops overlooking the entrance to the Inquisition’s tower. It was short notice, so he gave him the authority to command the People’s Guard too. The Inquisitor also realized that he had created a problem for himself. The People’s Guard headquarters was sealed off. This would be a prefect opportunity for the killer of Governor Jaeger to merge in with the procession and leave. There would be no way to check everyone with staff he trusted. However, by now there would be record of all those in the building. If he held a roll count immediately afterward, any one missing could at least be identified at least.

The Inquisitor also decided that his undress robe would not be considered suitable for such an important event by the locals, so he put on his half armor and formal robe. He had to increase his height by six inches for the proper effect. He decided to go unarmed, but he made sure that his Award of the Emperor’s Favor was visible. He didn’t like to wear his formal robe for minor events like this, and certainly wouldn’t have done so for anything less than the Ikon of Pella. The robe itself was Blessed, as were his Seals and Scrolls. They could not be repaired because they were Perfect, but every use degraded them a little more. Each thread had only a limited life and when that was gone, a little Sanctity was lost. He also warned Scriptor Karpus to be prepared for ceremonial too. Interrogator Grauman and his staff of Examiners would not be missed and if they were, they would be missed gratefully.

A little while later Proctor Paramedes came to announce that the security sweep was complete. He was now a very impressive figure indeed in his bright red enameled power armor. The Inquisitor might not be armed, but the Proctor more than made up with it. He was wearing his power sword on his left hip, his hell pistol in its newly repaired holster on this right. Across his back was another scabbard carrying his assault shotgun, and from his armor hung a variety of grenades. He wore his polished gorget with its Death’s Head, only his helmet was missing. Instead he wore the traditional white Spartan under-armor skull cap. To finish off the effect, he carried his power servo-axe in his left hand. Altogether an impressive example of a defender of the Imperium and member of the Inquisition, not quite as large as one of the Adeptus Astartes, but powerful none the less. The rest of the Nemesis guard were attired similarly, except for minor details of equipment, making a pleasant contrast with Inquisitor’s black and white robe, and the Scriptor’s gray with black and white. The Inquisitor gave the Ikon case to the Scriptor to carry, and the whole party headed off to what the Inquisitor hoped would be a short ceremony, but feared would be long. Hope was eternal. So was Fear.

As the Inquisitor emerged from the tower entrance, he realized that things were worse than he had expected. The courtyard was now packed almost shoulder to shoulder with priests and the People’s Guard. The faint buzz of conversation was silenced as the Inquisitor and his small party appeared and a sigh was audible even over the constant chanting of the prayers as the crowd identified the Ikon case being carried by Scriptor Karpus. The prayers trebled in intensity, and quadrupled in fervor at the sight of the Ikon case, and several batteries of choirs opened fire with their hymns. The High-Deakon advanced up to meet Inquisitor Brake, now he was clad in his most magnificent formal regalia, supported by his Under-Deakons and priests. He turned and face the crowd and raised his arms. As one, the People’s Guard knelt in prayer. The Inquisitor muttered a brief prayer of Forgiveness at the dismay he felt as the High-Deakon started on the full version of the Prayer of Eternal Thankfulness. It ran to eight hundred and forty-seven verses and took over five hours to recite, assuming no mistake was made and the prayer had to be restarted. The Inquisitor’s Duty came in many forms. At least he could lock his legs and rest, one of the advantages of bionics.

**********

It was verse three-hundred and sixty-six when the Inquisitor’s electoo pricked. It was a message from Interrogator Grauman. The Inquisitor said another prayer of Forgiveness and went back inside. He nodded to hold all but two of his bodyguard in place and continued on down to the Examination facility. There Grauman, three Examiners, two guards and Councilor Hauser waited. Interrogator Grauman ushered the Inquisitor into his office and saluted.

“ My Lord, I have completed my investigation of the body of Governor Jaeger. Owing to the temperature in the room, I cannot determine the time of death with any accuracy. It was within twelve hours of the discovery of the body, but not within two and five hours of that time. The manner of death is certainly smothering and, from the fibers in the nostrils it is possible that a pillow from his own bed was used. There was no sign of any blows, cuts or other injuries, and a Divination of both the body and the brain show no sign whatsoever of Chaos taint or influence.”

“The Governor had also been drugged. The poison in question seems to be a local plant extract called Widow’s Friend. It is not fatal unless used in huge doses, but it does produce a long profound sleep, as long as a day. During this sleep, the user has vivid and peaceful dreams and even occasional ecstatic visions of hope and purity. The drug is normally administered by burning and inhaling the smoke. I have examined the Governor’s suite and, although I cannot be certain, it seems most likely that a moderate quantity of the drug was emptied into his electric heater. Within moments the smoke would have filled the room and a single breath would have been enough to render the Governor insensible.”

“Could someone have tipped the drug into the heater and held their breath while it took effect?”

“No my Lord. The drug is also absorbed through the skin. Anyone exposed to the smoke would be affected themselves within a few minutes.”

“Is there an antidote?”

“Not exactly an antidote, my Lord, more of a counter agent. It too is poisonous, but the two drugs effects cancel out.”

“So someone could have taken the counter agent, then put the poison in the heater?”

“No my Lord, that would be very hard to do. The counter agent would paralyze within seconds if the Widow’s Friend were not there.”

“Could the drug have been administered by the simple expedient of loading it into the heater and then turning the heater on?”

“Yes my Lord, that would work. Of course it would take a while for the heater to get up to working temperature before the smoke was produced. Also, I don’t know if it is significant, but there were high levels of Black Rock in the Governor’s system. This is a cumulative poison. Small doses have no effect, but once the level of poison builds up to a certain level, the victim dies as if from brain failure. From the amount of poison present, another three or four doses would have been enough to kill him. It appears that this poison had been administered over a period of several years. This was a direct attack on the Governor only too. The poison was protein encoded to bypass his toxo-implant. His implant was quite crude by normal standards, but would have protected him from most of the usual toxins.” The Interrogator cast his eyes downward to signify that he had finished his report.

“Thank you Interrogator Grauman, you have been as thorough as always. I will speak to Councilor Hauser now.” Grauman left and Councilor Hauser was shown in. He seemed to be in good condition. He bowed deeply to the Inquisitor.

“My Lord?” He did not wait for the Inquisitor to speak.

“Did you kill Governor Jaeger?”

There was a slight hesitation before Councilor Hauser replied emphatically “No. I did not kill him. To the best of my knowledge nothing I or anyone I know did, killed Governor Jaeger last night.” The Councilor’s choice of words was interesting.

“Governor Jaeger summoned you for a meeting last night. What did he want to talk about?”

“I do not know my Lord.” The sentence was left hanging in the air, but the look from the Inquisitor indicated that this was not sufficient. The sentence needed more support.

“I do not know, my Lord. I was fetched from my cell and taken up to an ante-room. The guards left. I heard some noises in the room outside and perhaps in the room next door. After about two hours the guards came and took me away again.”

“You saw no one else?”

“There was the Governor’s aide and some of his servants in the corridor when I arrived. I saw no one else.”

“Do you know the guards?”

“Not by name, my Lord, but I would recognize them again.”

Things were not going very well. Somebody was lying. Proctor Paramedes appeared loyal, Councilor Hauser could be Examined easily enough and High-Deakon Croton seemed truthful. The Inquisitor needed to think about things more. While he did so, he had Councilor Hauser taken back to his cell.

The Inquisitor arrived back at the ceremony on time to hear the last eighty-five verses.

**********

The High-Deakon was still in full song and the last verse of the prayer was delivered with the same strength, fire and clarity as the first. For a moment, the Inquisitor feared that the High-Deakon was about to embark on a new prayer, but instead he turned to face the Inquisitor. The fire of the Emperor’s Spirit burned in his eyes. He said a long and complex blessing, some words of which were not in High Gothic and so the Inquisitor did not understand them, Old Spartan perhaps. The Inquisitor reached across to Scriptor Karpus and took the Ikon case and after holding it high for all to see, presented it to the High-Deakon. As he did so, he opened the case’s door so that the High-Deakon could see that the Ikon of Pella was indeed inside. The High-Deakon fell to his knees and intoned another prayer that the Inquisitor did not recognize as the door was closed and the Ikon case passed into his hands. He collected himself for a moment, almost as if drawing on the strength of the Ikon, and stood up and turned to face the throng. The reserved and respectful nature of the prayers and hymns changed to ones of joy and excitement. The Ikon of Pella was back at home at last.

The High-Deakon advanced through the throng like a ship through light ice, cutting his way directly to an altar carried on the backs of eight priests. They knelt as he placed the Ikon case, still closed on the altar, then they stood up, raising the Ikon case above the height of the crowd where all could see it. The High-Deakon gave another Blessing to the crowd and took his place in front of the altar as the Holy Procession made its way down the ramp and out onto the street outside. In the lead was a squad of People’s Guard to clear the way. Behind them was a chorus of priests rhythmically banging gongs to set cadence for the procession. Scattered throughout the procession were other priests with gongs keeping the beat. Behind the priests came a solid block of censer bearers, their incense purifying the way. The choirs behind them sang the purest hymns to purify the spirits of those the procession passed. Then came the High-Deakon and his assistants followed by the altar itself, its purity maintained by more censer bearers and choirs on either side. More priests and choirs followed behind and still more censer bearers marked the division between the Ecclesiarchy and the people who chose to show their devotion by accompanying the Ikon on its journey through the city to the Shrine. The dense clouds of incense made it impossible to see more than thirty or forty yards, so the whole procession marched in the fog of its own passing.

The Inquisitor was disappointed that so much time had been taken for such a simple act, and yet anyone who had been there could attest to the sense of Sanctity and Holiness that came over the crowd when the Ikon was displayed. Anyone who chose to remember would know that the Inquisition had brought the Ikon back to Pleasant Hill, and it was at their pleasure that the Ikon had been returned, if only temporarily. With the death of the Governor and the return of the Ikon, the great plans of Justice had been delayed. It seemed that small events had conspired to delay the great. Tomorrow was another day and Justice delayed was still Justice, so long as it was not delayed too long. The Inquisitor dismissed Proctor Paramedes and the bulk of his guard and returned, with Scriptor Karpus, to his own chambers. Although Interrogator Grauman had been diverted by his examination of the Governor’s body, his Examiners an other assistants would doubtless have been busy and there would be another summary to review. There was also the evening meal. Although the Inquisitor commonly fasted as a way to purify his own spirit, he preferred to do so on his own terms. Today was not a such a fast day and now he was hungry.