was how it turned weak minds。 This was how it had polluted and tainted the population of Cinchare minehead。 The whispering… the
formless； shapeless words of power that drew mankind into the embrace of the warp…
An idea struck me。 I like to think it was an idea born out of the same pure simplicity that Bure had celebrated in Aemos。 A perfect；
simple possibility。
I shrugged from my mind my fears for the life of Aemos and the magos。 The blasphemy might already have torn the translithopede
apart in the cavern far behind me。 If they were not beyond hope； then this was the best I could do for them。
Risking a free hand； I reached sideways and activated the pod's vox…ponder； setting it to record。 Then； concentrating on my steering
once more； I began to speak； clearly and loudly； dredging words up from my memory。 Long ago； on my birth planet； DeKere's World；
as a child； standing in the long hall of the primary scholam with the other pupils； reciting together…
A collision warning blared； and I veered to the left in time to glimpse a prospecting pod that filled my cockpit windows for a moment
before racing past。
Two bright yellow cursors had appeared on my auspex display。 The beacon locators of prospecting pods； like the ones that had chased
us into the mine system。
The one that had tried to collide with me was turning wide over the lava lake。 The other was coming in on an intercept course。 I swung
round to face it and then gulled away at the last minute。 The pass was close； close enough to see the Ortog Promethium symbols on its
flank。 Close enough to see Enforcer Kaleil's face through the cockpit ports。
The first pod； an Imperial Allied symbol just visible through the heat…flaked paint； came in and blocked my route to the shore and the
Lith。 Its driver； unidentifiable； had smashed the window lights out and was firing a lascarbine out from the cockpit。 Despite our
comparative speeds； I felt several shots land home； banging into the pod's fuselage。 I steered away； trying desperately not to break my
recitation as I concentrated on the air duel。
I began to chant the words like a mantra。
As I turned from the Imperial Allied pod； I met Kaleil's vessel head on。 I rolled hard to evade； but still we clipped and the whole pod
shook。
Warning lights lit up across the control console。 I had thruster damage and reduced manoeuvring ability。 The lava lake flashed up to
consume me but I climbed hard； away from the ash beach。
All the while； my recitation continued。
The Imperial Allied pod was on my tail； streaking the air with las…shots。 We whipped hard around the anthragate pillar； but I couldn't
shake him。 I tried to think what Medea would do。 What Midas would have done。 For a moment； my words faltered as I planned and
executed my frantic response。
The pod was right behind me。 I braked hard； and managed to spin the anti…grav machine in place using the attitude jets； dropping my
nose as if curtseying to my attacker。 And I ignited my mining laser。
The Imperial Allied pod was far too close to my rear to effect a turn or a brake。 I think he was trying for a collision； but I was just too
high for him。 He ran in under my hull at full thrust； so close he tore the lighting array and the auspex antennae off the underside of my
pod。
He also ran straight through the incandescent spear of my mining laser。 It sliced the Imperial Allied pod lengthways and sent the
disintegrating halves spinning away into the white hot magma below。
My pod was half crippled now from the pair of impacts。 I continued my recitation； hoping the brief lapse wouldn't matter。
With its antennae gone； the auspex was blind； but I could see Kaleil anyway。 He was gunning across the lake straight for me。
I hovered in place。 There was a time for action and； as I had already gambled； a time for words。 I switched off the vox…ponder and
keyed the open channel。
'Kaleil？'
'Horn！'
'Not Horn… Inquisitor Eisenhorn。'
Silence。 He was two hundred metres and closing at a speed that would wipe us both out。
I pressed the vox…mic close to my mouth and used every shred of my will。
'Don't；' I said。
The Ortog Promethium pod veered and then dived straight down into the lava lake。 A halo of fire broke up from the slow； undulating
splash it made in the liquid rock。
I LIMPED MY pod over to the ash beach and set down about twenty metres short of the Lith。 Medea moaned in her sleep。 I dreaded the
dreams that might be boiling through her subconscious。
'Get out of my head！' I snarled aloud at the Lith's persistent whispering。
It took me a moment to rewind the vox…ponder recording and set it to a continuous loop。 Then I diverted its signal into the echosounding
sonar system that the pod used to supplement its auspex in assay and location work。 I twiddled the dials until the powerful
sonar was aimed directly at the malevolent decahedron。
Conveyed in fierce ultra…sonic pulses； my recording blasted the Lith。 The Emperor's Prayer of Abrogation Against the Warp； learned
by rote by every good schoolchild of the Imperium。 An innocent blessing against the darkness； a banishment of Chaos。 I doubted it
had ever been used so actively。 I doubted my scholam tutors had ever conceived of such a use for that simple； sing…song declaration。
'Words；' I murmured。 'Your corrupt whispers against my words of power。 How do you like that？'
I pushed the sonar gain to maximum。 In terms of sonics alone； the pulses would have stunned a man to unconsciousness and snapped
his bones。
For a good minute or more； I feared it was having no effect。
Then the whispering ceased。 It became a subsonic moaning of rage and anguish； and finally agony。
The Lith's surface became discoloured； as if mottled by mould。 It shuddered； cracking the obsidian around it。
Then its inner luminescence sputtered and went out； and it became indistinguishable from the black volcanic glass that surrounded it。
WHEN THE LITH died； so did its servants； and so did the blasphemy。 Checking that Medea was now just sleeping soundly； I nursed the
damaged pod back down the cavern in time to see the last stringy remnants of the foul worm combusting and sliding off the
translithopede's buckled hull。 The air was thick with dirty cinders and the smoke of burning fat。
The burning corpses of cultists littered the chamber floor。 Motionless stalkers stood in their midst； cycling on pause； waiting for the
next command。
BROKEN AND TWISTED； the great burrower was at least intact。 When I brought the pod into the dock…bay； Bure's own tech…adepts
themselves emerged to take care of Medea's unconscious body。
The companionway floor was raked over at an angle。 Bure's engineer priests were still trying to repair the inertial dampers。
Acrid smoke filled the air； unpleasantly scented by the fat…fires outside。 Aemos met me in the doorway of the control chamber and
hugged me briefly in a rare display of affection。 Bure had shed his orange robe。 A sinister； stark； inhuman silhouette； he watched our
very human exchange from the edge of the podium； backlit by fires raging in the workstations below。
'We're fine now； old friend；' I said to Aemos。
He broke the embrace； as if guilty。 'You did well； Gregor。 Marvellously！ I… I didn't mean any disrespect…'
It was at times like that I wished I could still smile。 I am too used to my face being the impassive mask Gorgone Locke gave me。
Using my will gently； so he might understand the truth of my words； I said； 'No disrespect taken； old friend。'
Aemos smiled sheepishly and turned away。
His suspensors hissing； Bure glided over to me。 To my surprise； he hugged me too。 It was brief and clumsy； his servo arms conveying
no warmth。 I felt terrible sorrow for him then。 His human core had been moved by the events and he had seen and copied Aemos's
impromptu display of affection。 Just then； I believe； he passionately wanted to be human again。 Just for a moment。 But his vicing arms
had no more emotion in them than the tight handshake with which he had first greeted me。
He swung away； his arms to his sides。 His green eye…lights flicked back and forth over the repair teams as they worked to contain the
damage。
'I have never said；' he began； his voxed voice toneless and cold； though it tried to be neither of those things。 'Hapshant。 He thought the
world of you； Eisenhorn。 He told me once that he believed you would eclipse his career with your own。 I think he was right。'
'Thank you； magos。'
He turned around to look at me。 His eye were tiny spots of emerald fire。
'You never did say what brought you here。'
'Recent matters somewhat overtook us； magos。'
'Yes。 But still； you never did say…'
'I have to explain the… circumstances that have changed in my life； magos。 I will explain them carefully； in the hope that you will
understand and not think badly of me。 But first… I gave you something to safeguard and study； a century ago。 I'd like to see it again。'
IT WAS IRONIC； as if some karmic balance was at work。 Of course； I didn't believe in such things。 Bure had burrowed and tunnelled his
way fruitlessly through the heart of Cinchare for eleven weeks； only to have Aemos casually present him with the Lith's location。 And
we had gone deep into the mines to find Bure only to learn that what I had come to Cinchare for had been safely locked away in the
annex of the Adeptus Mechanicus all along； had I but looked for it。
IT TOOK THIRTY hours for the ailing translithopede to make its way back to the surface。 Once we'd broken through the blue gypnate
crust at the Imperial Allied mineworks； I sent Aemos and Medea back to the cutter to check in with Bequin and the others； still waiting
aboard the Essene at high orbit。 I hoped they hadn't done anything foolish in my absence。
BURE TOOK ME to the annex。 His encoded touch brought the sanctum to life； and lit long hallways to either side of the Mechanicus
chapel。 He led me down one of these； the illumination plates still flickering as they warmed up after such a prolonged period of disuse。
The magos linked his thoracic neural cables to a wall socket and disengaged a lock。 A heavy； armoured door slid open。 Then another；
inside the first； then a third； a sturdy iris valve that withdrew segmentally into the wall frame with a noise like swords sheathing。
'This is what you want；' said Bure。 'He has been most informative； over the years。'
'I'll review your reports later； magos；' I said。 'Leave me with him now。'
Bure withdrew。
I stepped through the iris valve and down three grilled steps into the cell； feeling the nauseating static prickle of the psychic
dampening fields。 Every surface was dusted with ice…crystals。 There was a crackle of synaptic energy。
'Hello； Eisenhorn；' said a hollow； vox…projected voice。 It came from a casket that squatted on a basalt block in the centre of the room。
Both casket and stone were caked in ice。 Tiny lights darted and blinked inside the casket's open lid。
I prepared myself。 Then I replied。
'Pontius Glaw。 We meet again。'
TWENTY
INTERVIEW WITH THE DAMNED。
BURE； WARSMITH。
ORBUL INFANTA。
'LET ME MAKE sure I understand you； Eisenhorn；' said the disembodied voice of Pontius Glaw； slowly and contemptuously。 'You think
I'm going to help you？'
I cleared my throat。 'Yes。'
Pontius laughed。 Synapse leads connected to the gold circuits of his