‘I will not permit you the opportunity to fail me again, plasmancer,’ snapped Simut. Green flares of energy pulsed across his body to spiral along the tomb ship umbilical. ‘I have been left no choice but to replace you with the Skorpekh Lord Zozar.’

A pulse of genuine dismay slipped across their cortical field connection.

‘The Silent King has ordered that we preserve the lower lifeforms where possible, my lord,’ protested Ah-hotep. ‘They may prove useful later, as potential vessels for biotransference or an indentured workforce.’

Disdain flowed through Simut, discharging itself as jade energy streamers.

‘You dare invoke the name of my cousin to intimidate me?’ The words of Tholotep cycled through the overlord’s memories, goading him. ‘I think that perhaps the flesh-memory is too strong within you. You harbour a residual sentiment for these lower beings.’

‘Not at all!’ The plasmancer floated higher, vertebrae-tail twitching with anger. ‘I…’ Ah-hotep’s protests died away amid a stutter of cortical static.

‘You would do what, plasmancer? Take my command from me? Usurp my rule for your own? I do not forget how you inveigled yourself into this endeavour. Do not outstay your usefulness.’

The plasmancer drifted back and forth a few times before descending to the floor of the chamber, her essence purring with placating outputs.

‘Grant me one more chance to seize the citadel without destroying the humans entirely.’

Simut would allow her no more opportunity for distracting manipulation.

‘I have made my determination – my will shall now be enacted!’ Simut rose from the throne and flung a hand out towards Ah-hotep. The jade beam that lanced from his palm carried the dismissal protocols. The instant they touched her cortical pattern the protocols activated the plasmancer’s translocation field. A final stab of desperation from Ah-hotep faded as her body became a green mist and then disappeared, leaving a momentary afterglow in the airless command-mastaba.

It was perhaps a spiteful act, Simut conceded, but the plasmancer needed to be reminded of her position now and then. He was losing patience with her incompetence and passive insubordination.

‘Phetos, begin the canoptek reanimation process for Zozar and his legion.’

The royal warden turned to his lord, a wave of revulsion playing across the cortical field.

‘I am protocol-driven to request confirmation of that command, Celestial Lord of the Seven Stars,’ intoned Phetos. ‘I caution against waking the destroyers. Once reanimation has begun the end result is unpredictable. Extended exposure to the skorpekh legion increases the risk of engram degradation of all high echelon nobility.’

‘Do it,’ said Simut, focusing his attention on the citadel below. On the wall display it grew in size, obliterating all other images, an artificial mount surrounded by crackling energy and blossoms of fire. ‘Tell Zozar to kill them all.’

The royal warden’s eyes fixed on his master as the imperative was instilled across the cortical bonds.

‘He will need no such encouragement, my lord.’