Deathwatch by Steve Parker Page A

ever received. His Lordship never initiated comms before an assignment was properly completed. At least, he had never done so before.
    Ordimas licked his lips, suddenly dry.
    ‘Display message,’ he told the machine.
    Recipient: Asset 16
    Source: Priority A-2 DSC – Key ‘Sigma’
    Identicode: Classified ‘Uridion: Eyes Only’
    Most recent transmission received. Under review. New orders as follows:
    Contrive entry to active mining sector as part of work-detail. Gather observational intelligence. Everything relevant. One shift sufficient. Two days hence, rendezvous with Ordo representative, field code White Phoenix. Transfer all data to representative and exfiltrate. Expect off-world transport options limited. White Phoenix will advise.
    Protocols and data-files attached. Access by opticom only. Full auto-erase will begin immediately after transfer.
    That is all.
    Ave Imperator.
    White Phoenix? That assignation wasn’t familiar to Ordimas. He sensed an urgency in the message he couldn’t put his finger on. The work-party placement meant a stealth kill first. He didn’t look forward to using the drug. His genes were his curse, and he knew all too well that he would never be free. His unique chromosomal heritage had brought him to the attention of the Holy Inquisition in the first place.
    And once you’re in, you never get out.
    Familiar footsteps sounded outside, echoing along the alleyway, announcing the return of young Nedra. But something was wrong. Ordimas read dismay in the sound. Almost panic.
    Thrusting his face forwards, closer to the machine, he whispered, ‘Session end.’ The unit on the table closed and locked itself abruptly. With a hiss, the stasis-seal re-engaged. Ordimas hefted the case off the table and hastily slung it back under his cot. He was rising just as Nedra burst through the door.
    Ordimas turned and saw at once that his young charge was shaking. Nedra’s eyes were brimming with tears yet to spill. He stood fighting to hold them back.
    ‘I-I saw him, boss,’ he stammered.
    Ordimas didn’t need to ask who. He’d seen Nedra like this only once before.
    ‘Where?’
    ‘The meat market,’ managed the boy.
    Only a few blocks away! Ordimas felt raw hatred clench his stomach. A scowl twisted his lop-sided face. ‘Did he see you?’
    Nedra shook his head and the first tear spilled over, rolling and dropping from his cheek. Conscious of it as it splashed on the toe of one of his newly repaired shoes, the boy turned aside, not wanting his boss to see him break down. Other tears began to flow.
    ‘I’m sorry, boss,’ he sniffed. ‘I didn’t get any food. I…’
    ‘Peace, lad,’ said Ordimas, moving to the boy’s side. He laid a hand on Nedra’s shoulder. ‘It’s well that you found him. I’ve business with the bastard.’ And I may be able to kill two birds with one stone , he thought. ‘Come. Show him to me.’
    Nedra shook his head. ‘I can’t. He’s twice your size, boss. Big as a bull grox. Let’s just stay here. I’ll get some bread from Clavian’s on the corner. We’ll eat.’
    ‘No! You’ll take me to him. And don’t underestimate me, boy. There’s much about old Ordimas Arujo that none would guess, not even you.’
    Nedra turned again, gaping, tears forgotten. Ordimas had never spoken to him so sharply before. It was like being slapped. A stony, unfamiliar hardness had entered the puppeteer’s gaze. In those eyes, the boy glimpsed a cold confidence in the stunted, hunch-backed little man. There was no change in his physical stature, but Ordimas seemed strangely taller and stronger than he ever had before, unruffled and somehow suddenly dangerous.
    ‘I… I’ll take you there,’ said Nedra, though his own words shocked him. He seemed to be speaking them against his will. ‘I’ll show you, but please…’
    Ordimas allowed himself a predator’s grin. It had been over a year since he’d last killed. This ill-minded oaf, this abuser of the weak, was a