False Gods

held them out to Loken. 'Anyway, this is want you wanted,’

'You think I wanted this?' said Loken, hurting the pamphlets across the billet and looming over him. 'Are you insane?'

'Not at all, my dear captain,' said Karkasy, affecting a calm he didn't feel. 'I have you to thank for this.'

'Me? What are you talking about?' asked Loken, obvi­ously confused. Karkasy could see the chink of doubt in Loken's bluster. He offered the bottle of wine to Loken, but the giant warrior shook his head.

'You told me to keep telling the truth, ugly and unpalatable as it might be,’ said Karkasy, pouring some wine into a cracked and dirty tin mug. 'The truth is all we have, remember?'

'I remember,’ sighed Loken, sitting down on Karkasy's creaking cot bed.

Karkasy let out a breath as he realised the immediate danger had passed, and took a long, gulping drink of the wine. It was poor a vintage and had been open for too long, but it helped to calm his jangling nerves. He pulled a high backed chair from his writing desk and sat before Loken, who held his hand out for the bottle.

'You're right, Ignace, I did tell you to do this, but I never imagined it would lead us to this place,’ said Loken, taking a swig from the bottle.

'Nor I, but it has,’ replied Karkasy. 'The question now becomes what are you going to do about it?'

'I don't really know, Ignace,’ admitted Loken. 'I think you are being unfair to the Mournival, given the cir­cumstances we found ourselves in. All we-'

'No,’ interrupted Karkasy, 'I'm not. You Astartes stand above us mortals in all regards and you demand our respect, but that respect has to be earned. It requires your ethics to be without question. You not only have to stay above the line between right and wrong, you also have to stay well clear of the grey areas in-between,’

Loken laughed humourlessly. 'I thought it was Sinder-mann's job to be a teacher of ethics,’

'Well, our dear Kyril has not been around much lately, has he?' said Karkasy. 'I admit I'm somewhat of a late­comer to the ranks of the righteous, but I know that what I am doing is right. More than that, I know it's necessary! You feel that strongly about this?' 'I do, captain. More strongly than I have felt about any­thing in my life,’

'And you'll keep publishing this?' asked Loken, lifting a pile of scribbled notes.

'Is there a right answer to that question, captain?' asked Karkasy. Yes, so answer honesdy,’ 'If I can,’ said Karkasy, 'then I will,’ 'You will bring trouble down on us both, Ignace Karkasy,’ said Loken, 'but if we have no truth, then we are nothing, and if I stop you speaking out then I am no bet­ter than a tyrant,’

'So you're not going to stop me writing, or send me back to Terra?'

'I should, but I won't. You should be aware that your poems have made you powerful enemies, Ignace, ene­mies who will demand your dismissal, or worse. As of this moment however, you are under my protection,’ said Loken. You think I'll need protection?' asked Karkasy. 'Definitely,’ said Loken.

'I'm told you wanted to see me,’ said Euphrati Keeler. 'Care to tell me why?'

'Ah, my dear, Euphrati,’ said Kyril Sindermann, looking up from his food. 'Do come in,’

She'd found him in the sub-deck dining area after scouring the dusty passages of Archive Chamber Three for him for over an hour. According to the iterators left

on the ship, the old man had been spending almost all of his time there, missing his lectures – not that there were any students to lecture just now – and ignoring the requests of his peers to join them for meals or drinks.

Torgaddon had left her to find Sindermann on her own, his duty discharged simply by bringing her back to the Vengeful Spirit. Then he had gone in search of Captain Loken, to travel back down to Davin with him. Keeler didn't doubt that he'd pass on what he'd seen on the planet to Loken, but she no longer cared who knew of her beliefs. Sindermann looked terrible, his eyes haggard and grey, his features sallow and gaunt. You don't look good, Sindermann,' she said. 'I could say the same for you, Euphrati,' said Sinder­mann. You've lost weight. It doesn't suit you.'

'Most women would be grateful for that, but you didn't have one of the Astartes fetch me back here to comment on my eating habits, did you?'

Sindermann laughed, pushing aside the book, he'd been poring over, and said, 'No, you're right, I didn't.'

Then why did you?' she asked, sitting opposite him. 'If it's because of something Ignace has told you, then save your breath.'

'Ignace? No, I haven't spoken to him for some time,’ replied Sindermann. 'It was Mersadie Oliton who came to see me. She tells me that you've become quite the agitator for this Lectitio Divinitatus cult.' 'It's not a cult'

'No? Then what would you call it?' She thought about it for a moment and then answered, 'A new faith.' •

'A shrewd answer,' said Sindermann. 'If you'll indulge me, I'd like to know more about it'

You would? I thought you'd brought me back to try and teach me the error of my ways, to use your iterator's wiles to try and talk me out of my beliefs,’

'Not at all, my dear,' said Sindermann. You may think your tribute is paid in secret in the recesses of your heart, but it will out. We are a curious species when it comes to worship. The things that dominate our imagination determine our lives and our character. Therefore it behoves us to be careful what we worship, for what we are worshipping we are becoming,’

'And what do you think we worship?'

Sindermann looked furtively around the sub-deck and produced a sheet of paper that she recognised immedi­ately as one of the Lectitio Divinitatus pamphlets. That's what I want you to help me with. I have read this several times and I must admit that I am intrigued by the things it posits. You see, ever since the… events beneath the Whisperheads, I… I haven't been sleeping too well and I thought to bury myself in my books. I thought that if I could understand what happened to us, then I could rationalise it,’

'And did you?'

He smiled, but she could see the weariness and despair behind the gesture. 'Honestly? No, not really, the more I read, the more I saw how far we'd come since the days of religious hectoring from an autocratic priest­hood. By the same token, the more I read the more I realised there was a pattern emerging,’

'A pattern? What kind of pattern?'

'Look,’ said Sindermann, coming round the table to sit next to her, and flattening out the pamphlet before her. Your Lectitio Divinitatus talks about how the Emperor has moved amongst us for thousands of year, yes?'

Yes,’

'Well in the old texts, rubbish mostly – ancient histories and lurid tales of barbarism and bloodshed – I found some recurring themes. A being of golden light appears in several of the texts and, much as I hate to admit it, it sounds a lot like what this paper describes. I

don't know what truth may lie in this avenue of investigation, but I would know more of it, Euphrati.' She didn't know what to say.

'Look,’ he said, pulling the book around and turning it towards her. This book is written in a derivation of an ancient human language, but one I haven't seen before. I can make out certain passages, I think, but it's a very com­plex structure and without some of the root words to make the right