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this great distance； just a blur in the heavens； it put a chill into me。 If the two…headed eagle symbolises all that is good and noble and
right about the Imperium of Mankind； that rancid blur symbolised all that was abominable about our eternal foe。
LAUGHTER AND WARM voices greeted Fischig as we went aboard。 Aemos shook him repeatedly by the hand and Bequin planted a
quick kiss on his cheek that made him blush。 He exchanged a few playful put…downs with Nayl and Medea； and asked Husmaan if he
was hungry。
'Why？' the scout…hunter asked； his eyes widening in anticipation。
'Because it's supper time；' said Fischig。 'Betancore； get this crate into the air。'
We were going to that safe place he had mentioned。
I HAD NOT been aboard the sprint trader Essene for some five years。 A classic Isolde…pattern bulk clipper； the ship was like a spacegoing
cathedral； three kilometres long； and looked as majestic holding low anchor above Cadia as it had when I first saw it； nearly one
hundred years before； in the cold orbit of Hubris。
Medea coasted us in towards the cargo hatch of the gigantic craft。
'A rogue trader？' asked Inshabel cautiously； looking over my shoulder at the ship ahead。
'An old friend；' I reassured him。
SHIP MASTER TOBIAS Maxilla was； I suppose； my most unlikely ally。 He'd made his living shipping luxury goods officially； and
unofficially； along the space lanes of the Helican subsector。 He still did。 He was a merchant； he maintained； to any that asked。
But he had a pirate's taste for adventure； a yearning for the halcyon days of early space…faring。 I had hired his ship during the affair of
the Necroteuch； to provide nothing more than transport for my team； but he had got involved； with increasing glee； and he'd stayed
involved ever since。 Every few years over the last century； I had hired him to run passage for me or some of my staff； or he had
contacted me to ask if his services were needed。 Just because he was bored。 Just because he was ''in the neighbourhood''。
Maxilla was an educated； erudite man with a subtle wit and a taste for the finest things in life。 He was also a charming host and a good
companion and I liked him immensely。 He was in no way a formal part of my staff。 But he was； I suppose； after all this time and all
those shared adventures； a vital part。
The year before； when it had been decided that Fischig would embark on this long chase after the Cadian leads； I had asked Maxilla to
provide him with transportation； for as long as it was needed。 He had agreed at once； and not because of the generous fee I was
offering。 To him； it sounded like a true adventure。 Besides； it promised a chance to give the old Essene a proper long run out； beyond
its normal route of the Helican stars。
A genuine voyage。 An odyssey。 That was what Tobias Maxilla lived for。
HE WAS WAITING in the cargo hold to greet us even before the extractor vents had finished dumping out the cutter's thruster fumes。 He
had dressed for the occasion； as was his way： a blue velvet balmacaan with huge sleeves and a jabot collar； a peascod doublet of
japanagar silk； patent leather sabattons with gold buckles； and a stupendous fantail hat perched on his powdered periwig。 His face was
skin…dyed white and set with an emerald beauty spot。 His cologne was stronger than the thruster fumes。
'My dear； dear Gregor！' he cried； striding forward and taking my proffered hands with both of his。 'A signal joy to have you back
aboard our humble craft。'
'Tobias。 A pleasure； as always。'
'And dear Alizebeth！ Looking younger and more fragrant than ever！' He clasped her hand and kissed her cheek。
'Steady now； you'll smudge… your make up。'
'Wise Aemos！ Welcome； savant！'
Aemos just chuckled as his hand was shaken。 I don't think he ever kneake of Maxilla。
'MrNayl！'
'Maxilla。'
'And Medea！ Ravishing！ Quite ravishing！'
'You certainly are；' Medea said playfully； allowing one of her circuit…inlaid hands to be kissed。
'You knew we were coming； Maxilla。 You might have smartened up a bit；' said Fischig。 Amid laughter； they shook hands。 I realised
their relationship had changed。 They had been together for a year on this mission。 Fischig had never really connected with Maxilla：
their backgrounds and lives were too divergent。 But clearly； a year in each other's company had brokered a true friendship at last。
That pleased me too。 An inquisitor's band works better when it is close knit。
Maxilla turned to Husmaan and Inshabel。
'You two I don't know。 But I will； as that's what dinners are for。 Welcome to the Essene！'
MAXILLA'S SCULPTURAL GOLD servitors； each one a work of art； had prepared a late supper for us in the grand dining lounge。 A pate
zephir of crab； fresh from the Caducades that morning； ontol flowers poivrade in their husks； fillets of Cadian boar hongroise；
followed by an ebonfruit talmouse with cream and Intian syrup。 The gilded sommelier served petillant Samatan rose； heavy…bodied
Cadian claret； a sweet and sticky Tokay from a lowland dos on Hydraphur； and stinging shots of Mordian schnapps。
Our humours were good； and the impromptu supper gave us time to step back from the work at hand and relax。 None of us spoke of
the case； or the demands that it was likely to make of us。 To rest the mind often clears it。
I was going to need clarity now。
WE RETURNED TO Kasr Derth the next morning in the gun…cutter。 The steel dawn over the wide island group of the Caducades was cut
by the rising edge of a burning； red sun。 As we swept in over the craggy mainland； the peaks and edges of the moors were caught with
a pink alpenglow。
Despite the fact that we were broadcasting the correct clearances； we were challenged six times in the half…hour descent。 At one point；
a pair of Cadian Marauders rolled in and flanked us as they checked us over。
Military security dominated the Cadian way of life。 Every non…military transport； shuttle and starship was placed under acute
observation； especially those that behaved suspiciously or wandered from the authorised flight routes。 Aemos told me that a pinnace
carrying the Deacon of Arnush； visiting Cadia for a promulgation seminar； had been shot down over the Sea of Kansk six months
earlier； simply because it failed to give the correct codes。 It made me wonder how our unknown foe had got his minions on and off
Cadia。
Unless； like us； he had an identity and a rank that easily turned aside routine security checks。
WE WERE DIVERTED sixty kilometres west of Kasr Derth because a war was going on。 The dawn light was filled with the flashes and
light streaks of a mass rocket attack。
Eight regiments of Cadian Shock； just a few days away from shipping out to a tour of duty on one of the inner fortress worlds of the
Cadian Gate； were staging a live firing exercise。
We finally set down on the minster's launch pad over an hour late。 The war…bells in every tower and shatrovy in the Kasr were ringing
to signal that the roar of battle from the nearby plains and moors was just a practice。
We divided our efforts。 Fischig took Aemos to the Minster's archivum to study the records we had ordered copied the night before and
do further research。 Bequin； escorted by Husmaan； went to search the stacks of the Ecclesiarchy's records in the apostolaeum。 Inshabel
and Nayl visited the Administratum's catalogue of records。
I went with Medea to the Ministry of Interior Defence。
THERE ARE NO arbites on Cadia。 A permanent state of martial law governs the world； and as a result； all civil policing duties are
overseen by the Interior Guard； a sub…office of the Cadian Imperial Guard itself。 In Kasr Derth； the region's administrative capital；
their headquarters is the Ministry of Interior Defence； a grey…stone donjon adjoining the fortress of the martial governor； right at the
heart of Kasr Derth。
Members of the Interior Guard are chosen at random。 Worldwide； one in every ten soldiers recruited into the Cadian forces is
transferred into the Interior force at the end of basic and preparatory； whatever their achievements and promise。 As a result； some of
the most able troopers ever raised on this planet of warriors serve out their time on the home world itself； and Cadia boasts one of the
most effective and skilled planetary defence forces of any Imperial world。
We were seen by a Colonel Ibbet； a powerful； lean man in his forties who looked like he should have been leading the charge into the
Eye of Terror： He was courteous； but mistrustful。
'We have no files on illegal or suspect immigration。'
'Why is that； colonel？'
'Because it doesn't happen。 The system does not permit it。'
'Surely there are unfortunate exceptions？'
Ibbet； his grey and white camoed uniformed starched and pressed so sharply you could have cut yourself on the creases； steepled his
fingers。
'All right； then；' I said； changing tack。 'What if someone wanted to get onto the planet anonymously？ How could that be managed？'
'It couldn't；' he said。 He wasn't giving at all。 'Every identity and visit…purpose is logged and filed and any infractions quickly dealt
with。'
'Then I'll start with the files annotating those infractions。'
RESIGNEDLY； IBBET SHOWED us into a codifier room and assigned us a military clerk to take us through the records。 We sorted and
checked for about three hours； slowly becoming bored with the interminable lists of orbital boardings； air…space interceptions and
ground…based raids。 I could tell that a thorough review of these records alone was going to take weeks。
SO THAT'S WHAT we did。 We spent ten and a half weeks scouring the archives and catalogues of Kasr Derth； working in shifts and
living out of the quarters on the gun…cutter。 Every few days； we returned to the Essene for a little rest and reflection。 It was the dead of
winter by the time we were finished。
FOURTEEN
WINTER BRINGS A CHANCE。
THE DAMNED HAS A NAME。
THE PYLON AT KASR GESH。
WINTERTIDE ON CADIA。
There had been glinting ice…floes in the gun…metal waters of the Caducades that morning； and light snow had fallen on the moors。 At
that time of year； the foul corona of the Eye of Terror was visible even during the fleeting hours of daylight。 The unholy mauve
radiance of the nights became a violet fuzz in the cold daylight； like a badly…blotted ink stain on white paper。
It made us feel like we were under surveillance all the time。 The Eye； bloodshot； angry； peering down at us。
Worst of all were the moor winds； cold and sharp as a Cadian's bayonet； blowing down from arctic latitudes。 The high lakes were all
frozen now； and lethal pogonip fogs haunted the bitter heaths and uplands。 In the Kasr itself； it seemed like the locals had a morbid
fear of heaters or window insulation。
Chilly gales breathed down the hallways of the minster and the Admin…istratum building。 Water froze in the pipes。
Despite it all； the war…bells sounded every few days； and the moors rolled with the sounds of winter manoeuvres。 I began to imagine
that the Cadians were simply shooting at each other to keep warm。
Ten and a half long； increasingly cold weeks after we had begun our systematic search of the Kasr's records； I was making my now
habitual morning walk from the minster of the Inquisition to the headquarters of the Interior Guard。 I wore a thick fur coat against the
cold； and spike…soled boots to combat the sheet ice on the roads。 I was miserable。 The search had left us all pale and edgy； too many
fruitless hours spent in dark rooms。
There had been so many promising leads。 Links and traces of the Sons of Bael； unauthorised starship traffic； suspicious excise logs。
They had all dwindled away into nothing。 As far as we could make out； no living member of the Sons of Bael； or any living associate
or family member； remained。 There had been no pylon…related cult activity； not even registered xeno…archaeological work。 I had
interviewed specialist professors at the universitary； and certain tech…priests from the Mechanicus who were shown in the records as
having expert knowledge of the pylons。
Nothing。
With Inshabel； Nayl or Fischig； I had travelled the region； as far afield as Kasr Tyrok and Kasr Bellan。 A worker in the gunshops of
Kasr Bellan； who had been identified as a Bael cult member； turned out to simply have the same name； misfiled。 A wasted ten hour
round trip by speeder。
Aemos