Magnus Gravis

      by Atis Kleinbergs

      Ref: Inq/66541941955/AK
      Date: 0612998/M41
      Intercepted Transmission

      + + + + + + + + + +

      To: Adeptus Ministorum ­ Expositus Solus: Cardinal Phantine
      From: Ordained Missionary Uriel Bane
      Date: 4756998/M2
      Priority: Magnus Gravis
      Transmitted: Riga Prime
      Transmitter: Astropath Prime Josephus
      Received: Astropath-terminus Phaziel
      Re: Heresy on Riga Prime
      Ref: Primer Imperialis (Ref: Adeptus Ministorum 0451.001.01//Sealed Data 9904.ref.745698a//Scriptus Codex: Adeptum 001b.657)Segmentum 263

      Thought: The loyal slave learns to love the lash.

      My dearest Cardinal,
           I write this in great haste, for I do not know to what extent I am in danger, nor to what degree this transmission may be compromised. I care not so much for my own safety. My life is but the breath of the Emperor. And, in as much, I fear that I may not long be able to serve in the glory of his nameŠ
           As you well know, I was dispatched to Riga Prime along with Sisters Alexia and Calista of the Orders Dialogus, in an effort to spread the Emperor's Glory to the unenlightened of that feudal world. Upon arrival, we were graciously met by Commander Constantine. He showed us the grounds of the Administratum, and presented us with translated copies of the Primer Imperialis. (This, as your holiness must well know, is the core of what all Citizens of the Imperium must learn: The Word and the Light of the Golden Throne; the Structure and Disposition of the Imperium of Man; the structure of the Fleet, the Forces Militant, and the general Rules of Engagement.) These volumes were the vanguard of enlightenment for Riga Prime, as they had been on many worlds before. They were to be distributed to the inhabitants of Riga Prime, in a language that was comprehensible to them. After that, it was the job of missionaries such as myself to further teach the Glory of the Emperor of Man.
           After further pleasantries, Commander Constantine bade us farewell and to make ourselves comfortable. The Sisters Alexia and Calista and I began to pore over the translation of the Primer. It was our hope to familiarize ourselves with the nuances of this particular translation. We studied long into the evening, and finally bade one another good night.
           I was awoken that night to the sound of knocking on my door. I opened to be greeted by the concerned visages of the Sisters Dialogus. Sister Calista had been up late, studying the text, as she was unable to sleep. In her readings, she happened to chance upon a passage in which she found what appeared to be a mistake. She brought it to the attention of Sister Alexia, who checked her text for the same abnormality. And so they found the same grievous error in both books. Not only were the translated phrases out of place in both volumes, they were dangerously out of context as well! The Sisters had thought it important enough to seek me out in my chambers and bring this matter to my attention.
           Your Grace, I must admit that I was unsure what to think when I first saw those words. Perhaps, I thought, it had been a meant as a joke by some lowly scribe? Perhaps there had been a horrible mistake in translation? Yet upon reflection, there seemed to be far too many elements in place for it to be merely an oversight. In fact, it seemed that it was done intentionally.
           In the morning, the three of us approached Commander Constantine about the matter. He did not understand our concern, and merely laughed it off as a scribe's mistake. When I mentioned that I may have to contact the Ministorum, he grew somber and was quick to dismiss the need for such action. He excused himself, stating that the Administratum was at our disposal, but that he had other matters to attend to.
           Incensed at this aberration, of this impurity in the Emperor's Great Word, the Sisters Dialogus and I sought the source of this outrage in the vast halls of the Imperial Scriptorium, where scribes translated the Primer into the vulgar argot of Riga Prime. Once there, we sought audience with the Emendatori, specifically Emendatrices Priestly and Fox & Emendator Thornton. We were shocked and very disturbed to learn that these Emendatori, who had been entrusted with the oversight of the project, were not to be found. A Senior Scribe stated that they had "vanished under mysterious circumstances." Indeed. Upon further inquiry, we discovered that all of the scribes working under the Emendatori were either absent or suddenly "transferred" off-world. Left with nothing but our vexation to question, we examined what copies of the volumes were still at the Scriptorium. They all contained the same heretical script, and showed signs of corruption and taint. Each had a distinctive malodorous quality. Many of the volumes, in fact, fell apart from the bindings at our slightest inspection. Blasphemy!!!!!
           Your Holiness, I am unsure as to the security of this transmission. To all others who might read this missive and scoff, you are already damned! Damned by your own ignorant negligence!!!! Merely look at page 263 of the Primer! The page heading is the sole of its kind in all of the immensity of the tome...and yet, you were oblivious to it until now. Does it not send chills through your soul to know that the same book you read in your own blind naiveté is now the tool which sows the seed of corruption in untold myriads of readers.
           Your Grace, forgive me. I am aware of the unstable nature of these transmissions. I am wary that this one may not reach you, due to the increased warp activity around Riga Prime. It is for those reasons that I wish to warn anyone who may happen upon this missive of the danger. Some may claim that the words may be merely an edict espousing the virtues of extreme ascetism and discipline...for the purpose of life is, after all, to suffer. That we may be nearer the Divinity of the Emperor in his own suffering. I fear, though, that it is something far more sinsister. The Sisters Dialogus have been missing for some four days now. I fear there is treachery afoot, and that it has sought us out, creeping malignantly nearer by the moment. I beg your hasty assistance, before the hour of damnation falls upon Riga Prime.

      Your Humble Servant,

      Uriel Bane

      + + + + + + + + +

      End Transmission


           Uriel smiled to himself as he surveyed the ruined interior of the Scriptorium. He walked past the bodies of many scribes, some hunched over the now blood soaked tomes that they had slaved a lifetime upon. "To guard in death what they guarded in life..." Uriel smirked to himself. Others smoldered in the flames fueled by piles of burning libram. Dank and acrid smoke swirled up and around the massive stone pillars that still held the vaulted ceiling aloft. Rose to meet what few books, if any, still remained in the massive, ceiling high stacks upon which they had been stored. He would have a hard time explaining this wreckage to Commander Constantine. But, perhaps with the Cardinal's help, he wouldn't have to.
           He stepped out of the flame-illuminated Scriptorium into the darkness of Emendatorium, the inner chambers of the building. It was here that projects were overseen and carefully guided. It was here that the Emendatori had seen fit to allow this taint to be spread. It was time to go minister to Sister Alexia's wounds. She had, after all, ministered to his. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness, he made his way past great tables covered with what had been projects for the Emendatori. Uriel paused to glance at one of the ancient tomes. It was a copy of the Ecclesiastical Proscriptions he had studied in his youth. He could barely make out the arcane High Gothic script in the reflected glow of the flames that danced outside the chamber:
           "Thou shalt Obey thy Master in all Matters"
           Uriel smiled and quietly mouthed the words aloud.
           He turned in the direction of the shuddering, gurgling breath. Seeing Sister Alexia's face, he strode over to the far wall. He gazed for a moment on her quiet countenance. How beautiful she was, he thought to himself. Leaning over, he paused a moment before gently licking her lips. Colder, now that her face had been flayed from her skull, but exquisite. He gently ministered to the deep cuts in her lips, his tongue cleaning what blood was still congealing. If only she hadn't struggled, he thought. The missionary traced his fingers along the outline of her face, noticing how the iron nails marred the porcelain skin. Noticed where the pierced stone wall still dripped red. Too bad she'd refused his offer, Uriel thought. She would have enjoyed the experience far more. Running his fingers along the fresh gash which crossed his face, he savored the sensation as he brushed over his now defunct eye. At least he had a permanent reminder of herŠ
           The bloody, crumpled, faceless mass at the missionary's feet that had been Sister Alexia gave one last shudder and expired. Uriel sighed. Pity, he thought to himself. But there was still work to be done. Dropping his hassock to the stone floor, he stood naked, inspecting his wounds. He picked at the long scabs that had formed across his chest, arms and back, revealing the fresh, milky-pink flesh beneath.
           Uriel felt the room ripple. It was time...
           "The bait is cast. The trap is set," Uriel said. "They will soon be here, my Master. Have I done well?"
           In the corner of the chamber, the darkness stirred. It coalesced, hissed, and purred. "Yessssss, my pet..."
           The missionary heard the lash cut the air as the first stroke bit hard into his flesh.
           "Veeerrrrrry well..."
           Uriel's back began to weep crimson tears of obeisance. The lash cut again, harder. And again.
           "Veeerrry well indeed."

      End.

      Copyright Atis Kleinbergs, 1998.

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