"Education aside," Haxtes says, ending that line of inquiry. "From the house we could look east towards the snowy peaks of the Mastari range." You can see the mountains rising in the east, their upper slopes draped in a white blanket of snow. "We went hiking there in the autumn. Sometimes we went summer skiing, high up where the snow never melted." Haxtes makes a slow, snaking motion with his hand, starting at shoulder level and ending at desktop height.

Skiing? You didn't see that tangential coming. You're only passingly familiar with the concept of skis - two long, narrow planks strapped to the feet - a very peculiar mode of personal transportation, used on a smattering of feral planets, and a handful of more civilized worlds that remain locked in eternal ice ages.

Haxtes pauses, turns to look at you, and then addresses you rather more directly. "Did you ever go summer skiing in your childhood, Marcus?"

You don't reply. You've no particular desire to go down this path. Perhaps if you ignore the query he'll try something else.

Haxtes pauses to give you an opportunity to change your mind. Still you decline, until finally he resumes. "If you didn't, you missed out on something wonderful." He sounds regretful on your behalf. It's his most expressive statement to date.

Another pause, longer this time. When you still do not reply, he continues, somewhat reluctantly if you're to judge. "The rest of the family would get up in the predawn dark and get everything ready. My brother Jax and Mother would prepare food and other paraphernalia. Father would prepare the skis." Images from inside the house - it is as cosy on the inside as on the outside - play out inside your mind. "Then he would wake my sister and she would make her way into the family hopper, while Father picked me up and carried my still-sleeping body from the bed and strapped me into my seat. One of the few advantages of being the youngest child."

The Adeptus Mechanicus is well versed in the lore of gravitic manipulation, and produces numerous vehicles that can defy the pull of gravity, but for a family of modest means to matter-of-factly own a hopper is rather uncommon. Another Akakian peculiarity, to go with their love of education?

Haxtes continues. "When finally I woke up, we would be landing on a pristine white field of snow, high up in the mountains. The sun would be coming out to greet us, painting the world with magic crayons." The view of the snowy mountains, bathed in the reds and pinks of the rising sun is quite majestic and oddly calming. "I'd gulp down a quick breakfast and then we would get our skis. The weather would be perfect, minimal wind and the sun would shine all day. We would race down the mountain again and again, effortlessly carried to the top by the hopper that came for us on servitor-pilot when called."

Fleeting images of high-speed movement across wide expanses of white snow. The sensation is unfamiliar, but exhilarating. He's right: you've definitely missed out on something. If you were on your own time you might be tempted. But you're not. You're on the God-Emperor's time, and he doesn't gladly suffer his servants to waste time on frivolities.

"At noon we would eat a large meal together and we would talk and laugh and everything would be just perfect." Haxtes sounds pleased when recalling the event. "Afterwards father and Jax would find a more challenging place to ski, while Mother rested, and Eli...Eli would mostly just sit in the sun, soaking up its warmth like a lizard."

His sister is indeed quite attractive - a pale dark beauty - if a little too young for your tastes. The mother, however, she you would gladly have bedded. She is a mirror image of her daughter, only older and infinitely more alluring. Jax looks just like Haxtes does, only a bit taller and more heavily built. The father is harder to peg down. He's there, but always out of focus, or appearing too briefly for you to get a good impression of him. There are some potentially interesting interpretations here, but you've neither the time, nor the inclination, to delve deeper.

Haxtes' voice becomes more neutral. "Since I was not old enough to go with Father and Jax, and not inclined to just sit around doing nothing, I would go on exploring on my own - I'd just go on skiing downhill, looking for new places, secure in the knowledge that Father would come for me eventually."

He suddenly shuts his mouth. Quite firmly. His eyes have become hard. Silence grows between you. It becomes a heavy weight crushing down upon you. With each passing moment it grows more cumbersome. You can feel the connection between you and Haxtes slipping.

Slightly anxious that the contact with the tome might be interrupted you finally reply. "No, I never did go summer skiing. I never went any type of skiing. I barely know what skis are. I grew up with a family, that is true, but we were not in a position to have the sort of freedom or wealth required for such frivolous pursuits." A grim smile crosses your features. "And after the Arbites and the Black Ship there were even fewer skiing opportunities. Not a lot of skiing in the Scholastia Psykana curriculum."

You're surprised at the venom in your own voice. Bitterness conjured forth from dim memories, of a family that provided you with none of the warmth or love your soul craved.

The connection is back, stronger than ever.

"No? Unfortunate. As I said you've really missed out on something. If you'd like to give it a try, the tome contains a full recording of one of my childhood exploration trips. It was quite eventful."

You get the feeling that it's not just a story of snow and skis. That he's hinting that there may be something of substance hidden within. Well, you'll not be so easily deflected from your divinely appointed path. "I think I'll pass," you say, mixing finality with politeness.

Haxtes raises an eyebrow. "You can pull it up any time you like. But it will require a deeper level of immersion than the one you're at right now, so I suggest doing it later, after you've become more familiar with the way the recording works."

Tempting as summer skiing might sound; you decline the offer by ignoring it. You're here for a reason, you're here for the lore of immortality, sent here on the behest of your master. Deep immersion to go skiing does not enter into it. Not now, and certainly not later. "Not interested," you say with even greater finality - and far less politeness.

Haxtes face becomes impassive, his body language fully neutral, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "Suit yourself. Though you will come to regret that decision. Mark my words."

Lack of inflection or not, that last statement came out sounding like a threat. You get the distinct impression Haxtes is not used to being gainsaid - and that his standard reaction pattern in that regard is an elevated aggression level.

You do a quick analysis of Haxtes' behavioural patterns, faint and muted though they might be. He seems unusually composed and calm, most of the time. Yet he is also clearly somewhat short-tempered and prone to reacting with violence, rather than acting through diplomacy. There is also his penchant for alcohol consumption. Substance abuse is often indicative of deep seated emotional issues, issues that, somewhat ironically, often come to the fore as a result of excessive drinking.

Is alcohol abuse, brought about by traumatic experiences in his past, the cause of Haxtes' occasional loss of control? Is it an integral part of his personality, a flaw that you manipulate to further your own agenda? Or is the recording just putting on a show for you? The attire, the guns, the irreverent attitude, the drinking, is all of it part of a carefully crafted illusion? But if so, an illusion intended to do what? Trick you in some way? Test you? Deceive you?

There is more than meets the eye here, on more than one level. You've already established that Haxtes is a security measure, a gatekeeper, but you must conclude you've yet to fully understand its form and function.

Whatever the gatekeeper is designed to accomplish, you must admit that he's having an effect on you. In the short span you've spent together, Haxtes has nearly managed to get under your skin on more than one occasion. He's even managed to stir up memories of a childhood you long since burned from your mind.

The appearance of those memories came as something of a surprise. You severed the associative links between your childhood and the rest of your memory strata during the final year of your education. With exacting precision you used careful application of psy-fire to make incisions, cutting the connections between unwanted memories and the cognitive areas of your brain. The memories are still there, it's just your ability to associate with them that is gone.

Burning out the memory segments would have been far easier, but would have left you with gaping holes in your personality, much like a brain-scrubbing would. Your mind, however, was deemed far too valuable for such a crude treatment. So instead the instructors taught you how to use conduct precise self-psyrgery into your own mind. The pain involved was considerable, but the technique is undeniably effective when it comes to removing troublesome memories and personality defects.

So why this sudden re-emergence of a past long banished? Even a brief analysis points firmly at the link between you and the tome. If you burned your own bridges so to speak, then it follows that the tome is building new connections for you. In turn this indicates the link between your mind and the tome is deeper and more complex than you previously realized.

Even more reasons for you to be cautious. Yet you cannot afford to be overly careful either, not if it will prevent meaningful progress. After all, you've here for a reason. You're after the forbidden knowledge hidden within this tome. More specifically you're after the lore of immortality. Knowing just how imperative your task is to the furtherance of your master's holy work, is reason enough to risk everything.