to
carry nothing that would mark us out from the twist population。 Tech…levels were low in the shanty。 A plasma gun might have ended
this quickly； but stories would have got round。
The scaly giant was on me again； and I fell through the rotting flakboard of a fence in my efforts to evade his swing。 I found myself
lying amid the debris in the back yard of one of the loathsome hab…rents。 A light went on in an upper window and abuse； stones and
the contents of a chamber pot were hurled at me。
The giant came on； swinging his club from side to side。 The nails and blades were darkly caked with dried blood。
He backed me towards the rear of the rent dwelling and made to swing again。
No！ I commanded； using the will。 He stopped dead。 The rain of abuse and excrement from above stopped too。
It would take him a moment to reconfigure his mind and find his anger again。 I moved right at him； punching a knuckle…curved fist at
the place where his nose should have been。 There was a crack of bone and a spray of blood。
The giant went down hard on his back； his nasal bone slammed back into his brain。
Nayl seemed to be enjoying his uneven duel。 He was jeering at his attackers； deflecting the sickles with his sword and blocking the
strenuous attacks of the mace with his knife。 I saw him spin and belly…kick the male away； then turn to give the ghastly； snorting
female his full attention。
But more figures were emerging from the night。
Ugly； abhuman scum dressed in rags。 Three； four of them。
I called a warning out to Nayl and pulled out my blackpowder pistol。 It the black market on
Front's Planet； but even so I'd dumbed it down to Eechan tech levels by replacing the engraved furniture with a shaped piece of
packet…wood。
The flintlock mechanism was in good order； though。 It cracked loudly with a fizz and a flash； the recoil punishing my wrist； and the
ball went point…blank through the forehead of the nearest twist； exploding the rear of his cranium in a surprisingly messy fountain。
But it was a one…shot piece and there was no time for reloading。
Two of the remaining outlaws came right at me； the other turning to come in on Nayl's flank。
I broke the teeth of the first one to reach me with the rounded butt of the pistol； and ducked the second's poorly judged slice with a
rapier。
Backing away； I drew my own blade。 Also a rapier。 Shorter by a good ten centimetres than my opponent's but balanced and guarded
with a hand…net of articulated metal struts。
Our blades clashed。 He was good； trained to his skill by a life of slaughter in the underhive。 But I… I had me on my side。
I dazzled him with the ulsar and the uin ulsar； and then drove him back with a four…stroke combination of pel ighan and uin pel ihnarr
before ripping the blade out of his dazed fingers with a swift tahn asaf wyla。
Then the ewl caer。 My blade transfixed his torso。 He looked confused for a second and then fell down； sliding dead off my blade。
His broken…faced accomplice； blood spilling from my pistol whipping； flew at me and I span； decapitating him with the edge of my
blade。 The Carthaens believe side…blade work is lazy； and stress the use of the point。
But what the hell。
Nayl had killed the third attacker with a bodypunch； and as I turned； he locked both of the female's sickles around his twisting knife
and ran her through with his main blade。
He turned to me and raised his bloody shortsword to his nose in a salute。 I returned it with my rapier。
The siren of an arbites groundcar was wailing along the alley。 'Time to be gone；' I said to Nayl。
'I THOUGHT YOU were dead！' Bequin cursed as Nayl and I burst in to the room in the ''Twist and Sleep''。
'We had some fun on the way home；' Nayl said。 'Don't worry； Lizzie； I brought the boss back safe。'
I smiled and fixed myself a small amasec from the bureau。 Bequin hated to be called ''Lizzie''。 Only Nayl had the balls to do it。
Aemos was hovering by the window。 Somehow； the rags of his twist disguise suited him。
'Most perturbatory… the arbites are coming this way。'
'What？'
Nayl moved to the window。
'Aemos is right。 Three land cruisers pulled up outside。 Officers coming in。'
'Hide yourselves； now！' I ordered。
Aemos hurried through the communicating door into the other bedchamber and threw himself down on the cot。 Nayl blundered into
the adjoining bathroom and used a tooth mug and loud groans to suggest he was busy throwing up。
Alizebeth looked at me frantically。
'Into bed！ Hurry！' I ordered。
The arbites kicked open the door and played their flashlights over the bed。 'Hive arbites！ Who's in here？'
'What is this？' I asked； dragging the sheets back。
'Streetfight killers… witnesses said they came in here；' said the arbites sergeant； advancing towards the bed。
'Me； I been here all night。 Me and my friends。'
'They gonna vouch for you； twist？' asked the sergeant； raising his weapon。
'Wass goin' on？ Too much light！' said Bequin； emerging from the dirty linen on the bed。 Somehow she had removed her dress beneath
the sheets。 Clad in brief underwear； she slithered on top of me。
'Wass you doin'？ Stoppin' a girl makin' her way？ Shame on you！'
The sergeant ran his flashlight beam up and down the length of her body as it clung to me。 I smiled the inane smile of the lucky or
well…oiled。
He snapped the light off。 'Sorry to interrupt you； miss。' The door closed and the arbites thumped away。
I looked down at Bequin with a wink。 'Good improvisation；' I said。
She leapt off me and grabbed her clothes。 'Don't get any funny ideas； Gregor！'
I'D HAD FUNNY ideas about her for years； truth be told。 She was beautiful and sublimely sexy。 But she was also an untouchable。 It hurt
me to be close to her； physically hurt。
I hate that fact。 I feel a lot for Bequin and I long to be with her； but it was never going to happen。 Never； ever。
That's one of the truly great sadnesses of my life。
And hers too； I hope； in my more self…aggrandising moments。
I lay in bed and watched her drag on her dress again； and I felt the pang of desire。
But there was no way。 No way in the galaxy。
She was untouchable。 I was a psyker。
That way pain and madness lay。
TEN
RUMINATIONS ON LYKO。
THE CHEW〢FTER。
THE HIGHEST BIDDER。
TUMULTUOUS SAP…STORMS hammered the twist…town in the pre…dawn； blanketing the sky with swirling vapours and shaking the tiles
and shutters with the gross weight of their heavy pelting goop。 Thunder rolled。 In the aftermath； veils of mist swathed the countryside；
and the stillness was alive with gurgling and dripping and the swarming scurry of sap…lice and storm…bugs。
Nayl went out early with Aemos and bought paper pails of warm food from the twist…town commissary just down the street； which
was already serving the work lines forming for the shift change in the mills。 By the time they returned； we had been joined by Inshabel
and Husmaan； who had slept through the night's altercation with the arbites in a shared room down the hall。
I'd yet to formally notify the ordo that Inshabel had joined my band； but he was now very much part of it。 I felt he had the right to be
here on this mission； for Roban's sake； and for his own。 He had brought the news of Esarhaddon to me； directly and selflessly。 Few of
my team yet referred to him by his rank … it would be a long while until anyone eclipsed the memory of Interrogator Ravenor … but he
had meshed well； with his bright mind and healthy； caustic wit。 He was already providing me with more solid service than Alain von
Baigg had ever managed。
Duj Husmaan had been a skin…hunter on his homeworld of Windhover when Harlon Nayl had first met him。 That was back in Nayl's
bounty…chasing days； before he'd joined my cause。 I'd recruited Husmaan eight years before on Nayl's recommendation； and he'd
proved to be a resourceful； if superstitious； warrior with a great sense for pathfinding。 Nayl had personally selected him from the
individuals in my retinue as muscle for this venture； and I had no quibble with the choice。
Husmaan was a slender man of medium height with coppery skin and white； sun…scorched hair and goatee。 Here on Eechan； like all of
us； he'd drabbed down his clothing to ragged black twist robes。 He ignored the bundle of disposable wooden forks that Aemos had
brought back from the commissary and started to eat the hot food from his paper pail with his fingers。
I picked at my own food idly； wondering how close we were to Lyko。
LYKO HAD BEEN a fool and had damned himself。 The damaging revelation that it hadn't been Esarhaddon who had been torched on the
lawns of the Lange palace could have been circumvented if Lyko had kept his head。 He could have claimed it a mistake； another
example of the heretic psyker's treachery。
But Lyko had run。 Out of fear； or chasing some timetable； I didn't know。 But he'd run and； in so doing； incriminated himself。
I'd gone to his residence； a rented hab high in the spires of Hive Ten； the moment Inshabel had alerted me to the deceit。 But Lyko had
cleared out； taking his people with him。 His hab was empty and abandoned； with just a few scatterings of trash left behind in the
stripped rooms。
I had set my staff to work tracing him； a tall order given the planet…wide data…access problems in the wake of the rioting。 I had decided
almost at once to pursue him alone； without informing the Inquisition。 You may see this as odd； almost reckless。 In a way； it was。 But
Lyko was an inquisitor of good repute； held in high regard； and with many friends。 There was scant chance I could tell the ordos I was
undertaking a hunt for him on the basis he was harbouring a notorious rogue psyker without the fact reaching him； or without his
friends making trouble for me。
Those friends of his； of course； included Heldane and Commodus Voke： the stalwart trio that had captured the thirty…three rogues on
Dolsene in the first place。 How empty that ''heroic'' action now seemed to me。 I had been so impressed when Lord Rorken had shown
me the report。 Perhaps the ''capture'' had been easy； or even staged； if Lyko was secretly in league with Esarhaddon。 Perhaps it had all
been part of an elaborate conspiracy to perpetrate the atrocity of Hive Primaris。
I was dogged by grim； unanswerable speculations。 I had no way to prove Lyko was corrupt； not even now； though I certainly
suspected it。 He might have been an unwitting pawn on Dolsene； or at the Lange palace； or he might have been in it all along。 It was
possible too that his departure from Thracian was a coincidence that I had misinterpreted。 It wouldn't have been the first time an
inquisitor had moved undercover without announcement。
It was even possible that he too had discovered the deceit after the event； and was moving fast following some lead to make amends
for his mistake。 Or that he was fleeing the shame… or…
So many possibilities。 I had to play the odds the safest way。 I was sure Lyko was guilty to a greater or lesser extent； so I would follow
him。 Even if he was simply chasing Esarhaddon too； it would lead me in the right direction。
And I couldn't inform the Inquisition； or talk to Voke or Heldane。 My uncertainty was such that I couldn't even trust them not to be
part of it。
A COMPLEX TRAIL of almost subliminal clues had put me on his tail。 I'll spare you the bulk of the details； for they wo