'She is machine…wise； yet she has no augmentation？' Bure questioned me。
Medea stripped off her gloves and showed him the intricate circuits inlaid into her hands。
'I beg to differ； magos。'
He took her hands in his and gazed in hungry wonder。 Drool…like ropes of clear lubricant oil trickled out between his chrome teeth like
spittle。
'A Glavian！ Your enhancements are… so… beautiful…'
'Thank you； sir。'
'You've never thought to permit any other augmentation？ Limbs？ Organs？ It is quite liberating。'
'I… get by with what I've got；' smiled Medea。
'I'm sure you do；' Bure said； suddenly swinging round to face me。 'Welcome to my translithopede； Eisenhorn。 You too； Aemos； my old
friend。 I must admit I can't conceive what brought you here。 Is it the Lith？ Has the Inquisition sent you to deal with the Lith？'
News of my disgrace clearly hadn't reached him； and for that； I was thankful。
'No； magos；' I said。 'A stranger quirk has brought us here。'
'Has it？ How odd。 When I first detected your signal … in dear Hapshant's old private code … I couldn't believe it。 I nearly shot you
down。'
'I took a chance；' I said。
'Well； that chance has led you to me and I'm glad。 Come； this way。'
His skeletal silver hands ushered us towards the door lock。
Bure had no lower limbs。 He floated on anti…gravity suspensors； the hem of his orange robe hanging a few centimetres above the
plated deck。 We fell in step behind him and walked the length of a long； oval companion…way lined with brass bulkheads and more gas
filament lamps。
'This burrowing machine is a wonder；' Aemos said。
'All machines are wonders；' Bure replied。 'This is a necessity； the primary tool of my work here on Cinchare。 There were； of course； a
number of lesser prototypes before I made the necessary refinements。 This translithopede was engineered from my designs by the
Adeptus fabricatory on Rysa and shipped here for my use three standard years ago。 With it； I can go where I please in this rock； and
unlock the secret lore of Cinchare's metals。'
Magos Bure had been a metallurgy specialist for two hundred years； his knowledge and discoveries almost worshipped by his brethren
in the tech…priesthood。 Before that； he had been a fabricator…architect in the titan forges of Triplex Phall。 To my certain knowledge； he
was almost seven hundred years old。 Hapshant had occasionally hinted that Bure was far older than that。
Not a shred of the magos's flesh remained。 The vestigial organic parts of Geard Bure the human being … his brain and neural systems …
were sealed inside his gleaming mechanoid body。 I had never learned if this was a matter of design or necessity。 Perhaps； as is the case
with so many； disease or grievous injury had forced such extreme augmentation upon him。 Or perhaps； like Tobias Maxilla； he had
deliberately discarded the weakness of flesh in favour of machine perfection。 Knowing the technophiliac disposition of the
Mechanicus priesthood； the latter seemed more likely to me。
My late mentor； Inquisitor Hapshant； had encountered Magos Bure in the early part of his career； during the celebrated mission to
secure the STC Lectionary from the ashrams of Ullidor the Techsmith。 As I have remarked； the Inquisition … indeed most august
bodies of the Imperium … find dealings with the Cult Mechanicus problematic at best。 Its power is legendary and its insularity
notorious。 The cult is a closed order which guards the secrets of its technologies jealously。 But Bure and Hapshant developed a
beneficial working relationship based on mutual esteem。 On several occasions； Bure's specialist wisdom assisted my mentor in the
prosecution of important cases； and on several others； the favour was returned。
That is why； a century before； I entrusted an item of particular importance to his expert custody。
THE CONTROL CHAMBER of the wheezing translithopede was a split…level chapel where a raised command podium； like a giant brass
pulpit； overlooked two semi…circular rows of busy control stations。 The rivetted iron walls were painted matt red and etched with the
various aspects and runes of the Machine God。 The forward wall was shrouded in long drapes of red velvet。
Six oil…streaked servitors worked at the chattering control stations； their hands and faces plugged directly into the systems via thick；
metal…sleeved cables or striped flexes marked with purity seals and parchment labels。 Glass valves and dials flickered and glowed； and
the air was heady with the scent of oils and sacred unguents。
Two relatively human tech…adepts in orange robes were overseeing the activity。 One was linked directly into the vehicle's mindimpulse
unit through a trio of neural plugs； and he murmured aloud the rites and scriptures of the Adeptus。 The other turned and
bowed as we came onto the podium。
He had a wire…mesh speaker where his mouth should have been。 When he spoke； it was in a pulse of binary machine code。
Bure responded in kind； and for a few moments they exchanged tight bursts of condensed data。 Then Bure floated over to a brass
lectern built into the podium's rail and opened his robe。 Two probing neural cables extended from his chrome sternum like suckerworms
hunting for prey and connected swiftly with the polished sockets on the lectern。
Now Bure was also conjoined with the translithopede's mind…impulse unit。
'We make good speed；' he told us。 He twitched； and the velvet drapes at the far end of the chamber drew aside automatically； revealing
a large holographic display。 Secondary images overlaid the main one； showing three…dimensional charts and power'speed graphics。
The main image was just a dark rushing blur laced with crackles of blue energy。
This was the view directly ahead of us； the rock disintegrating before the awesome destructive force of the plasma cutting…screw。 We
were travelling straight through solid rock。
'Perhaps it's time we discussed what's going on here；' I said。
'We hunt；' sad Bure。
'You've been hunting for a long time； magos；' said Aemos。 'Eleven weeks now。 What are you hunting for？'
'And why is Cinchare minehead derelict？' I added。
Bure paused as he selected the correct electrograft memory。 He was almost lost in the euphoria of mind…impulse union。
'Ninety…two days ago； as far as I am able to reason it； an independent prospector called Farluke； working under license for Ortog
Promethium； returned from a long tour of assay rock side and presented his masters with a unique discovery。 They tried to keep it
secret for a while； hoping； I believe； to exploit it for their own ends。 That error in judgment was costly。 By the time they realised their
mistake； and shared their data with the Adeptus； it was already too late。'
'What had Farluke found？' asked Aemos。
'It is called the Lith。 I have not seen it； but I have studied extracts recovered from the bodies of tainted men。'
'Recovered？' breathed Medea； unnerved。
'Posthumously。 The Lith is a hyper…dense geode of approximately seven hundred tonnes。 It is； as I understand it； a perfect decahedron
four metres in diameter。 Its mineral composition is exotic and inexplicable。 And it is alive。'
'What？ Magos！ Alive？'
'Sentient； at least。 It is infused with the wretched filth of Chaos。 How long it has lain undiscovered in the depths of this world； I do not
know。 Perhaps it has always been here； or perhaps it was hidden in pre…Imperial times by unknown hands to keep it safe… or to
dispose of it。 Perhaps； indeed； it is the reason Cinchare has broken from the order of its stellar dance and drifted； rogue and wild；
through the stars。 I had hoped； initially； to find it and recover it。 Its composition alone promised a wealth of precious knowledge。 But
now I hunt for it… simply to destroy it。'
'It has corrupted this world； hasn't it？' I said。
'Completely。 As soon as it came in contact with men； it began to twist their minds with its malign power。 It subjugated them。 The
Ortog work teams sent down to examine it were the first。 What is； to all intents and purposes； a cult sprang up spontaneously。 Each
initiate had a splinter of rock shaved from the Lith buried beneath his skin in a simple； brutal ritual。'
'We've seen the marks。'
'Disorder spread through Cinchare minehead as the cult grew。 The Lith couldn't be moved； but splinters were brought up and used to
infect more and more of the workforce。 Once tainted； the workers began to disappear； setting off on pilgrimages down into the mines
to make worship to the Lith。 Many never made it。 Most have simply vanished。 I've tried to follow their tracks； sometimes encountering
hostile cult elements bent on protecting their deity。 But Farluke's original data is unreliable。 I cannot find the Lith's true location。 I fear
it is just a matter of time before the cult manages to extend its reach beyond Cinchare。 Or…'
'Or？'
'Or they will complete some arcane task instructed by the Lith and awaken its power in full… or allow it to connect with its own kind。'
We considered this grim possibility for a moment。 Aemos quietly pulled up an entry on the screen of his data…slate； undipped the
device from his wrist； and handed it to Bure。
'Does this help？' he asked。
Bure stared at the slate。 His green eyebeams dilated into hard； bright points。
'How in the name of the Warpsmiths did you…'
'What is it？' I asked； stepped forward。
'The location of the Lith；' said Aemos proudly。
'How did you get this？' Bure cried； his vox undercut by excited binary chatter。
'The cult needs to know where it is。 The reference was clearly marked in the charts I downloaded from the security office。 I didn't
realise its significance until now。'
'You just downloaded this？' Bure said。
'I believe they thought they had no reason to hide it。 It wasn't encrypted。'
Bure threw back his chrome skull and laughed； a screeching； mocking cackle。 'Eleven weeks！ Eleven weeks I have scoured and
searched and fought my way through the bowels of this rock； hunting for clues； and the answer was up there all the time！ In plain
sight！'
He turned to Aemos and laid a steel hand on the savant's stooped shoulder。 'I have always admired your wisdom； Uber； and recognised
why Hapshant valued you so… but now I realise that great wisdom comes from simplicity。'
'It was luck； nothing more。'
'It was bold simplicity； savant！ A moment of direct； clear thought that quite dwarfs my labours down here。'
'You're too kind…' Aemos mumbled。
'Kind？ No； I am not kind。' Bure's eye…lights swelled and flashed。 'I will cut my way to the heart of the Lith； and then its spawn will see
how unkind my soul can be。'
TWO HOURS LATER； after Bure's servitors had taken us to a sparely furnished cabin and provided us with flavourless； odourless nutrient
broth and hard cakes of fibre bread； we were summoned back to the control chamber。
Outside； a small war was going on。
I had already sensed we had decelerated from tunnelling speed by the reduced throb of the impellers； and now I saw why。 We had
bored out of the rock into a towering vault lit by spurting pools of magma and flaming spouts of gas。 On the chamber's holographic
screen； I could see distorted； jarring images of the cavern outside。 Silent laser fire was jabbing at us。
Bure was linked to the podium's lectern。
'We've found their nest；' he said。 'They resist。'
As I watched； two