shielding. The wall here was less of a solid barrier than an incredibly large contiguous fortress, one that was garrisoned and active and home to hundreds of thousands.
The gate opened on the far side, and the Talion emerged into the dull grey of the Terran dawn. The landscape beyond the walls was open, scoured of the usual hard press of hab-towers and hive spires by ancient ordinances prohibiting building right up to the ancient wall-line. In that rarest of things on this world – open space – thousands of people had gathered. They were chanting something in semi-unison, mobbing the walls in stages before falling back. I could see Werrish’s troops down among them, holding the tide back in thin lines of pale grey.
There was no risk of such a rabble penetrating the wall themselves. The danger was that they would overrun the urban zone leading back from the perimeter, triggering a degradation of the secure cordon and making clearance operations necessary. Even from the flyer’s closed cockpit I could taste mania in the air, a stench that rose higher than the fervid chants.
The sky above us was, as ever, filled with aircraft, adding their own contrails to the film of soot that hung over us. I could see Arbites scrutiny landers among them, hovering watchfully. Beyond the disturbance rose the behemoths of the eternal city, a jungle of both squalor and magnificence. Glancing ahead at it, I suddenly had a vision of dry tinder, heaps of it, piled up against the foundations of our walls, ready for the spark.
‘That crowd is preparing to charge your men,’ I observed, noting a basic swarm-pattern developing amid the mobs.
Werrish nodded wearily. ‘I’ll order another volley. We have air support now.’
He had ordered his forces logically. They were spread out in a long ragged line against the base of the wall, with reserve units dug in on either flank. They looked to be equipped with lasguns for the most part, and evidence of their use was everywhere – a tidemark of bodies where the crowd had last pushed up against them.
I brought the lander down towards ground level. I could see the leaders of the rabble now, stirring the crowds up to charge at the hated bringers of discipline. Some of the mob were carrying burning braziers, others power staves that snapped with faint curls of plasma. One of them was wearing pale blue robes, streaked with dust and dirt. His eyes were blank, like pearls, and his bald pate had a false third eye daubed across it.
Things were escalating. The throngs were furious, and a great many of their number had already been shot. I estimated perhaps eight thousand were present versus a few hundred of Werrish’s soldiers. Most of the front-rank rioters would die in a rush, but a lasgun could only down so many before its bearer was overwhelmed.
The senselessness of it saddened me. Those gathered there could have had no true idea what they were rioting about; their latent rage and fear had been whipped up by more cynical souls. The chants rose in volume. The braziers spat with dirty flame. The skies above us ran with the faint crackle of lightning, lancing from the turning gyre over the Sanctum Imperialis. It was all ready to explode.
‘Do not fire,’ I told Werrish, bringing the flyer ever lower and making the dust skitter in the downdraught. ‘Kill these thousands today, and there will be tens of thousands tomorrow. Tell your troops to hold position.’
I set the flyer’s machine-spirit to override, opened the cockpit blister, pulled free of the seat and leapt earthwards. We were only a matter of metres from the ground by then. I dropped to one knee on impact, then rose up smoothly and began to walk.
I was surrounded on every side. For a few moments, I went unimpeded. The closest of the mortals stared at me, open-mouthed. Then the more perspicacious, recognising slowly what I was, started to shout in alarm, then to run, to fall on their faces, to stumble and panic. More turned and fled, shoving their way through the rest to get away. The vast crowd began to fold in on itself, suddenly riven by inexplicable terror at its heart.
I paid them no attention. They were like a swarm of insects – huge but incapable of doing me harm. Many were not even properly armed, just carrying machine tools or improvised spears, and their screaming turned swiftly from anger to terror. Some even cried