‘Furthermore, he has continued experimental implantation and monitoring of the thus-far unused gene-seed in experimental test subjects. That of the Second, Third, Fourth, Eighth, Eleventh, Twelfth, Fourteenth, Fifteenth, Sixteenth, Seventeenth and Twentieth Legions all show no sign of degradation or incidence of unwelcome tendencies within the recipients. All is well, my lord, Archmagos Belisarius Cawl reassures you. He is so satisfied that I am instructed to repeat his request that those gene-lines be put into full production and be allowed to serve the Imperium as the Emperor intended.’

‘No,’ said Guilliman firmly. ‘I cannot allow it.’

‘My lord, the characteristics of your brothers are too valuable to discard. The Emperor’s original schema of warriors bred to specific purposes is sound, and should be exploited. Under the current circumstances, we are operating with half our weapons unavailable to us. The plan is unbalanced. Putting the remaining eleven augmented Primaris gene-lines into production would allow far greater tactical and strategic flexibility of Space Marine forces, particularly when working in concert.’

‘I say again, no. Do not progress any further with this research.’

‘The warriors were not at fault. The science is not at fault. Their primarchs were. Chapters from your gene-line have also fallen in the past millennia, lord regent, and we do not censor them.’

‘I said no!’ said Guilliman forcefully.

There was a silence full of hums and clicks.

‘As you command, my lord,’ said the machine eventually. ‘Archmagos Belisarius Cawl will comply.’

Can I truly believe that? thought Guilliman. All magi of the Adeptus Mechanicus hungered for knowledge. When they had it, they could rarely refrain from using it. On this particular matter, he did not trust Cawl one whit.

Guilliman’s manner betrayed nothing of his thoughts.

‘Is there anything else?’ he asked.

‘That concludes the selection of responses engendered by today’s code reception.’ said the Cawl Inferior. ‘I shall prepare myself for encoding of your orders to Archmagos Belisarius Cawl,’

Things clacked and turned somewhere, awaiting Guilliman’s words. Another simple code would be projected to a second ghoulish mind aboard Cawl’s Ark ship. In the same way that Cawl’s message had been delivered to Guilliman, pre-set responses would activate within this other unit in response to the code. Or so Cawl insisted.

‘Here are my orders.’ Guilliman had no time nor any need for the preamble the Cawl Inferior had subjected him to. ‘The enemy fleet at Raukos has been crushed. The Indomitus Crusade is over. I will shortly return to Macragge to face my brother Mortarion, who has come forth from his lair. You are to continue your efforts to unravel the secrets of the pylons. We will persevere in this war, but ultimate survival of mankind can only be assured by undoing the damage Abaddon has inflicted on the fabric of reality. Concentrate on this above all else.’

‘That is all?’

‘That is all.’

‘I shall deliver the coding to activate those elements of the message.’