Mechanicum

'She's further south,' answered Palus with a measure of relief, 'skulking around the edge of the Gigas sub-hives at the end of the Barium Highway.'

'Good ambush site,' noted Kuyper. 'If anything's going to come up on us, it'll be from there.'

'And they'll find Basek waiting for them,' added Lacus the steersman with relish.

Cavalerio nodded. Princeps Basek commanded Vulpus Rex, the finest Warhound Titan of Legio Tempestus, a fleet killer of engines far larger than its hunched feral size would suggest.

Pulling up the schematics of the surrounding landscape from the Manifold and meshing them with the topographical view afforded him through the Titan's senses, Cavalerio saw that Kuyper's assessment was correct. Only the Barium Highway was wide enough to allow an engine to pass without demolishing half the dwellings.

The confused tangles of glowing outlines that depicted the edges of the sub-hives were, however, outdated and likely to be inaccurate, so it never paid to be complacent where the safety of an engine was concerned. So much was built or demolished that most maps of the sub-hives were rendered obsolete on a daily basis.

'Bring us about on a heading of two-two-five,' ordered Cavalerio, feeling his muscles twitch as the mighty form of Victorix Magna swung about and began a stately march along the edge of Maximal's domain. 'Magos Argyre, what's our reactor status?'

'Assessment: borderline,' said Argyre, the Titan's enginseer, who stood immobile in his rear-mounted compartment behind the princeps's dais. 'We should not have marched, Princeps Cavalerio. The reactor's spirit is troubled and it is dangerous to walk without having recited the full litany of calming prayers to soothe its troubled heart.'

'So noted, Magos,' said Cavalerio. 'Bring us to slow march speed.'

'Slow march speed,' repeated Argyre.

Cavalerio monitored their surroundings through the depths of the Manifold, drinking in data from pressure sensors, atmospheric samplers, infrared panels and microwave receptors. His understanding of the world around him was unparalleled, his awareness unmatched by any other entity on the plains of Mars.

He tried to keep his attention focused on the ground before him, for the landscape around Maximal's forge was treacherous, but he found his attention continually drawn to the ugly, bruised skies above Olympus Mons.

'What are you up to, Kelbor-Hal?' he muttered.

'My princeps?' asked Kuyper.

'Hmmm? Oh, nothing, I was just wondering out loud,' replied Cavalerio.

Kuyper had caught his interest in Olympus Mons, their communal link to the Manifold allowing no secrets to exist between them.

'It's the Grand Mountain, isn't it?' asked Kuyper, using the Titan drivers' old name for Olympus Mons. The moderati of Victorix Magna twisted in the reclined couch at the Warlord's chin mount to face Cavalerio. 'She frets about something.'

'The Grand Mountain,' agreed Cavalerio. 'She speaks with the voice of Mars and something troubles her.'

'My princeps!' called Sensori Palus. 'Vox contact from Ascraeus Mons. Princeps Sharaq urgently requests to speak with you.'

'On the Manifold,' ordered Cavalerio.

A ghostly hash of green light swam into focus before the reclining princeps, a holographic image of Princeps Sharaq standing in the Chamber of the First. The image jittered like a jammed signal, the words fading in and out as though the code was somehow corrupt.

'What is it, Sharaq?' demanded Cavalerio. 'We are on-mission.'

'I know, Stormlord, but you must return to Ascraeus Mons immediately.'

'Return? Why?'

Sharaq's answer was blotted out by a squealing blurt of code like an animalistic bellow of rage, his image distorting as if in the grip of a rippling heat haze.

'…Mortis. They march!'

'What? Repeat last,' snapped Cavalerio.

Sharaq's image suddenly sharpened, and Cavalerio heard the next words as clearly as if his fellow princeps had been standing before him.

'Legio Mortis,' repeated Sharaq. 'Their engines walk. And they are heading towards Ascraeus Mons.'

1.08

Dalia stared in fascination at Ipluvien Maximal, wondering how much of him was mechanical and how much was human. From the little she could see of his body beneath the coolant robes he wore to preserve the integrity of the machine parts of his body, the answer was not much. There was precious little left of the magos that spoke of their shared racial kinship.

'You have never seen an adept of the Mechanicum like me?' asked Maximal.

'No,' said Dalia. 'Most of the ones I've seen still look human. You sound human, but you don't look it.'

Maximal turned to Adept Zeth and blurted a crackling burst of code, the viewscreens attached to his host of mechadendrites flashing with his amusement.

'Oh, I'm sorry,' said Dalia. 'I didn't mean to speak out of turn, I was just curious.'

The robed magos turned back to her. 'You understand binaric code? Without modifications?'

'I've picked it up,' said Dalia, embarrassed at the scrutiny.