Nemesis

‘Sir!’ Skelta burst into the wardroom before Laimner could finish his sentence. ‘He’s here! The, uh, man. The baron’s man.’

Laimner’s attitude transformed in the blink of an eye. ‘What? But they’re not supposed to be here until tomorrow morning.’

‘Um,’ Skelta gestured at the door. ‘Yes. No.’

Yosef turned to see two figures entering behind the jager. The first was an ebon-skinned man who matched Sabrat for height, but was broader across the chest, with the thickset look of a scrumball player. He had ash-coloured hair that fell to his shoulders and an oblong data monocle that almost hid a faint scar over his right eye. At his side was a pale, thin woman with a bald head covered in intricate tattoos. Both of them wore the same green and silver livery Yosef had seen on Bellah Gorospe, but the man’s cuffs bore some kind of ornate flashing that had to be indicative of rank. The woman had a golden brooch, he noted, in the shape of an open eye. As he looked at her she raised her head to meet his gaze and he saw the unmistakable shape of an iron collar around her neck, like one that might be used to tether a dangerous animal. It seemed crude and out of place on her.

The man surveyed the room; something in his manner told Yosef he had heard every word of the argument that had preceded his entrance. The woman – it was hard to determine her age, he noted – continued to stare at him.

Laimner recovered well and gave a shallow bow. ‘Operatives. It’s a pleasure to have you here on Iesta Veracrux.’

‘My name is Hyssos,’ said the man. His voice was solemn. He indicated his companion. ‘This is my associate, Perrig.’

Daig was gawking at the woman. ‘She’s a psyker,’ he blurted. ‘The eye. That’s what it means.’ He tapped his lapel in the same place where Perrig’s brooch was pinned.

Yosef saw that the eye design was subtly repeated in among the woman’s tattoos. His first reaction was denial; it was common knowledge, even on the most parochial of worlds, that psykers were forbidden. The Emperor himself, at a council called on the planet Nikaea, had outlawed the use of psionic sensitives, even among the Legions of his own Space Marines. While some stripes of psyker were approved under the tightest reins of Imperial control – the gifted Navigators who guided ships through the immaterium or the telepaths who carried communications between worlds, for example – most were considered mind-witches, dangerous and unstable aberrants to be corralled and neutered. Yosef had never been face to face with a psyker before this day, and Perrig unnerved him greatly. Her gaze upon him made him feel like he was made of glass. He swallowed hard as at last she looked away.

‘My lord baron has sanction from the Council of Terra to employ an indentured psionic,’ Hyssos explained. ‘Perrig’s talents are extremely useful in my line of work.’

‘And what work is that?’ said Daig.

‘Security, Reeve Segan,’ he replied. Hyssos’s manner made it clear he knew the name of every person in the room.

Yosef nodded to himself. He knew that the Eurotas clan wielded great power and influence across the Ultima Segmentum, but he had never guessed it had such reach. To be granted dispensation against so rigid a ruling as the Decree of Nikaea was telling indeed; he couldn’t help but wonder what other rules the Void Baron was free to ignore.

‘I had expected you to go straight to the Eurotas compound,’ Laimner ventured, trying to recover control of the conversation. ‘You’ve had a long journey–’

‘Not so long,’ replied Hyssos, still sweeping the room with his gaze. ‘The baron will arrive very soon. He will want a full accounting of the situation. I see no reason to delay.’

‘How… soon?’ managed Skelta.

‘A day,’ Hyssos offered, his answer drawing Laimner up short. ‘Perhaps less.’

The Reeve Warden licked his lips. ‘Well. In that case, I’ll have a briefing prepared.’ He gave a weak smile. ‘I will make myself available to the baron on his arrival for a full and thorough–’

‘Forgive me,’ Hyssos broke in. ‘Reeves Sabrat and Segan are the lead investigators in the case, are they not?’

‘Well, yes,’ said Laimner, clearly uncertain of how he should behave towards the Eurotas operative. ‘But I am the senior precinct officer, and–’

‘But not an investigating officer,’ Hyssos went on, his tone level and firm. He gave Yosef a brief glance through his monocle. ‘The baron prefers to have information delivered to him as directly as possible. From the men closest to it.’

‘Of course,’ the warden said tightly, catching up to the realisation that he was being dismissed. ‘You must proceed as you see fit.’

Hyssos nodded once. ‘You have my promise, Reeve Warden. Perrig and I will help Iesta Veracrux to bring this murderer to justice in short order. Please pass that assurance on to the High-Reeve and the Landgrave in my stead.’

‘Of course,’ Laimner repeated, his smile weak and false. Without another word, he left the room, shooting Yosef a final, acid glare as he closed the door behind him.