come. Time to cut the head off the intelligence department. Together with Faith’s seemingly unstoppable slide into chaos, the inevitable confusion that followed would keep everyone’s head down, probably for months. He looked benignly down the Council table at Marek.
“Thank you, Councillor. For my part, I don’t think we should read too much into the reports. Those Kraa-less Fed bastards are always up to something that never comes to much, so unless anyone has anything to add, I suggest that intelligence keep an eye on things and we leave it at that. Councillor Marek?”
“Yes, Chief Councillor.” Marek struggled to keep the relief out of his voice. No doubt, he had expected Merrick to dish out his usual thrashing for bringing vague and unsubstantiated rumors to the Council table, but not this time, it seemed. “We’ll see if anything turns up, but as you say, the Feds are always chasing after some shadow or other, so that’s probably all it is.”
“Fine. And that brings us to our last agenda item, the situation on Faith.” Merrick’s voice, which had been amiable and relaxed in the exchange with Marek, hardened into steely sarcasm as he turned to look directly at his nemesis.
“Well, Councillor Polk! It seems that the marines have taken the situation under control with only at last count, let me see, 426 civilian, 231 DocSec, and 32 marine deaths and Kraa only knows how many thousands of wounded. Oh, and I forgot, Planetary Councillor Herris. I’m not sure what category we would put his imminent demise under, but I think we can add him to the list. Councillor Khan?” Merrick looked down the table at the man responsible for the internal security of the Hammer Worlds.
Khan nodded. “Yes, Chief Councillor. Herris was tried this morning and sentenced to death without leave to appeal. Sentence has been confirmed by the Supreme Tribunal and will be carried out tomorrow morning.”
Merrick smiled broadly. “Well, that’s what happens when you treat this Council with disrespect.” He could barely keep the triumph out of his voice. “You must be as relieved as the rest of us are, Councillor Polk, not just that the situation on Faith is back under control but that Planetary Councillor Herris has paid the price for his incompetence and corruption.”
The impotent fury in Polk’s eyes lifted Merrick’s spirits no end. He enjoyed impotent fury as long as it was in other people.
“Yes, Chief Councillor,” Polk muttered reluctantly.
What else could the spineless bastard say? Merrick thought.
“However,” he continued, “it must be said that the situation on Faith is far from secure. I don’t think I need to remind anybody of the Great Schism. The Supreme Council thought they had that under control, and look how it ended up. And I’m not just talking about the heretics, either.”
A small shiver ran down the back of every man at the table. The power and wealth that accrued to councillors were substantial, but they were well matched by the risks. Within days of the end of the Great Schism, James MacFarlane had overthrown the Council and had installed himself as chief councillor before hunting down and hanging every councillor by one leg from the nearest tree in time-honored Hammer mob fashion, with the people howling their triumph over the corpses as they swung slowly in the wind.
Merrick watched and enjoyed the fear so visibly obvious in the eyes of all present. “Yes, well. Now that I have your attention, let me just say this. Councillor Marek!”
Marek jerked upright.
“Ah, good, Councillor Marek. You are paying attention. Now, I am sure it’s abundantly clear to everyone here that you made the situation worse by refusing to provide the Council with honest reports on the causes of the unrest on Faith and the resultant heavy loss of life. So”-Merrick dropped his voice to a sibilant whisper, forcing the men around the table to lean forward to hear him-“I believe it is impossible for you to continue. I require your resignation. Now, if you wouldn’t mind.”
As Merrick slipped the knife in, the shock on Marek’s face was instant and total, but he could only sit there immobile, unable to believe what he had heard. As the full import of Merrick’s demand finally sank in, he turned in desperation to his patron, mouth working but saying nothing.
Polk said it for him. After a moment’s indecision, he was on his feet, his mounting fury visible to all. “I will not allow this! I insist you withdraw. I-”
Merrick’s hand went up to silence Polk.
“Well, Councillor Polk. Some might say that I should hold you personally responsible for the situation on Faith. Some might say that for months you resisted any and every attempt I made to have that corrupt pig Herris removed before the situation got completely out of hand. Some might say that perhaps it is you who should be asked to resign. But for the moment at least, I wouldn’t suggest such a thing. But if you wish me to open the matter up for debate, I will be happy to do so.”
Polk stood silent for a second as Merrick watched him run the numbers in his head. True, if it came to a ballot, the pro-Polk faction might have the votes if Merrick tried to remove him; he was the only man on the Council able to restrain Merrick in any way. But that didn’t make seeing one of his own get the ax any easier to swallow.
Slowly Polk sank back into his seat, the bitterness of defeat obvious to all. “No, Chief Councillor. That won’t be necessary.”
Marek just stared at him, sudden terror stretching his face taut, his eyes wide and staring, a thin sheen of sweat across his face. He couldn’t speak. It was obvious to everyone that Polk had just decided to abandon him, and without Polk he was nothing but a dead man. He looked desperately to Polk’s men, but there was no support there.
Merrick’s smile of satisfaction was cold and cruel. “Resign, Councillor. Resign now! Or I shall put the matter to secret ballot. Believe me when I say that I think it would be most unwise to do that. And remember, if you are tempted to count votes, you cannot vote on your own removal.”
For a long minute, nothing was said. Nobody spoke in defense of Marek, and no one would. It was over, and they all knew it. Finally, Marek, taking a huge breath to steel himself for what would come next, got slowly to his feet, turning to look Merrick right in the eye.
“Chief Councillor. I hereby tender my resignation. I have served Kraa to the best of my ability, and all I ask is that I be allowed to live out my days in peace.”
No fucking chance, Merrick thought viciously. You know the rules, you corrupt self-serving bastard. Former councillors who died peacefully in their beds were a rarity, and Merrick had no intention of allowing Marek to be one of them. Former councillors knew too much. Former councillors were owed too many favors by too many people to be anything but trouble. And history showed that even if they intended to live out their days in peace, former councillors were always drawn back into the maelstrom of Hammer politics. They owed and were owed too much to stay out of things. But there was time to deal with Marek later.
There was nothing more to be said, and as the silence stretched into awkwardness, Marek slipped from the room, a shrunken shadow of the man who had sat down at the Council table barely an hour earlier.
Saturday, October 3, 2398, UD
They came for him in the early hours of the morning.
Herris had not slept, ignoring the tray of slop pushed into his cell in favor of watching the sky through the tiny cell window. As the cell door banged open, he turned, standing unafraid and surprisingly calm, lit from behind by the sun as it burned its way into the bleak plascrete cell. The young DocSec lieutenant seemed nervous, the hand holding the death warrant shaking slightly as he began to read, his voice a near gabble under the stress of the moment.
“To the governor, McNair State Prison, Commitment.
“By my authority, you are hereby instructed that Kaspar Anjar Herris, 5300-718994-91F, now in your charge and having been found guilty by the investigating tribunal of conduct prejudicial to the Doctrine of the Hammer of Kraa and sentenced to death without leave to appeal, which sentence has been duly confirmed by the Supreme Tribunal for the Preservation of the Faith, is to be executed in the manner authorized by law at 05:3 °Commitment Standard Time on the third day of October 2398.
