Malusov Station, Zuccollo Cluster

10 Days Later...

The roar, bouncing around the firing range, faded. Two rails crackled faintly. Red numerals scrolled across a screen. 2526 m/s.

"Yesss!" Andalusia van Callet safetied the infantry railgun, set it on the shelf and bounced up and down. "Did you see that, Lilli? Well past the two and a half thousand mark. We did it!" Beaming, Lusia pulled off her ear coverings and the two little buds beneath them. "Expectations exceeded—hahaha! The Archmagos will be tickled pink." Lusia loosened the strap on her ballistic goggles and pulled her dreadlocks through it. "Formulae please, Lilli." A screen attached to a harness on Lusia's chest ran through mathematical formulae. "Mm-hm, lovely stuff. And how small can we make a capacitor for an infantryman to carry with battle order, Lilli? Lilli, you're quiet."

"Mistress, the luddites return."

"Oh, no…" Lusia tossed her gloves next to the railgun and unlatched her harness. "Lilli, lock up please. I'll come back for the gun."

"Yes, mistress."

Every day. Exactly the same time! Lusia climbed up to the laboratory's observation chamber, a circular room filled with telescreens fitted to articulated arms. "Lilli, unlock the pod. I'm going outside to talk to them."

"Yes, mistress."

"HERETEK! HERETEK! HERETEK!" Fifteen techpriests – stick-thin, pale-skinned, and covered in augments – gathered at the foot of the stairs leading up to Lusia's pod and banged staffs on the floor.

Test the railgun out on these idiots. See if they call me Heretek then. Shoulders back, chest thrust out, Lusia strolled down to the crowd. "Hello again. I'd have prepared a demonstration but it appears you've already started."

"Heretek! You'll burn for spurning the Omnissiah's light!"

"OMNISSIAH! OMNISSIAH!"

"Oh for…" Lusia threw back her head and rolled her eyes. "Listen, with Chaos past Cadia, they now have an open road in to the rest of the galaxy. How do you think we can beat them by not innovating, expanding our knowledge?"

The techpriests continued to bang their staffs on the floor and shake books and fists at Lusia. "A demonstration of our own, mistress?" Lilli said in Lusia's ear.

Lusia gathered up her skirts and lifted them up to her chin. "Woooh!"

"AARGH!" The techpriests fell against one another. One collapsed in to another's arm and fainted. A stain spread across one's crotch.

"Ha-ha-ha!" Lusia dropped her skirts. "Spineless old men, Lilli."

"Yes, mistress."

With the techpriests falling over themselves to get away, Lusia trotted back up the stairs to the lab. "Five days. Five damned days, Lilli." Lusia flopped in a wheeled chair and flicked her dreads over the back. "Dogma, Lilli, will be the death of us."

"Unwavering beliefs, mistress."

"Lilli, I know what it means." Lusia scooped up a tablet and popped the stylus out from a slot. "Just… feels like smashing my face against bedrock, expecting it to give."

"The price of success, mistress."

Lusia tracked her stylus down a page titled Infantry Combat Weapon System XR-7. "Rechargeable power cells and the tungsten ammunition stuffed in the same magazine. Hmm…" Lusia lifted her leg and rested a foot on the desk in front of a screen. "Can't go back now." Lusia spun the stylus through her fingers. "Say. Would this be better suited for specialist anti-armour teams to carry in the field perhaps?"

"Will this project not be forwarded for mass-production, mistress?"

"Getting a little ahead here, Lilli. The Archmagos's caseless bullpup went nowhere either. Could we be trying to be too clever here? A miniaturised, lightweight bolter? An intermediate cartridge with depleted uranium? Plasma even?"

"Is that a joke, mistress?"

"Ah-huh, no. I can't think of any sensible-thinking person who'd want a proper plasma individual combat weapon. Too unstable. Keep it particle beam or kinetic energy. Tell me, do you think gunpowder is very fortieth millennium?"

"Why fix that which is not broken, mistress?"

"True. I'd be far more wary of a soldier with a slug rifle capable of automatic fire than one with a railgun only capable of firing one shot per barrel. Thirty to fifty rounds of cartridges between five and eight millimetre over one tungsten projectile capable of neutralising a tank or titan." Lusia rolled her tongue. "Mmm, I think there's more money in keeping the XR-7 an anti-armour weapon. Our tech's just not there or been lost somewhere along the line." Lusia's lips folded inwards beneath her mask. "What a bunch of bedwetters we've become. Nappy-sniffing, ignorant, stagnant circus of bollock-ticklers."

"Mistress?" A screen pivoted and an arm extended towards Lusia.

"What is it?" Lusia pushed the stylus back inside the slot and laid the tablet down. "Another mother's meeting?"

"Visitors, mistress."

"Lilli, that's an external camera."

"Yes, mistress. The station's home network has detected an anomaly in the system."

"The enemy?" Lusia lifted her foot from the desk and swivelled towards the screen. "All I see is vacuum, Lilli."

"It was only for a moment, mistress. A brief energy surge."

"Cloak? Don't tell me the enemy has cloaking devices now. That'd really annoy the Archmagos." Lusia took her cloak from the back of the chair and picked up her halberd. "Hold everything down here, Lilli. I'll get to the bottom of this."

Zarkaniy

"No, said Kholani. It's the right way. The only way. If you don't take my hand, the life that we know will collapse, and there'll be no-one left to save Tybursk." My eyes left the page and locked on to Susannah's.

"Oh, no you can't leave it there!" Susannah propped herself up on her elbows. "James, finish the chapter."

"Nah-haha, you've had your fill." I fitted the cloth bookmark and shut the book. "Something to look forward to, innit?"

"Heh-heh. You're a son of a bitch." Susannah yanked her pillow around and thumped me in the shoulder.

"Oi, bad shoulder!"

"That was your left shoulder, liar. I've been through worse." Susannah's big grin faded. "Someone's after you."

"Who?" I clamped the book under my arm and got up off the chair. Den Ulman approached, a Merotech in his hands.

"Hello, sir. Sorry, didn't want to interrupt."

"No, no, it's alright."

"If this is a bad moment—"

"Oi, number ten. It's fine. Call me James anyway."

"Err, I can't on duty, sir. You are a commissioned officer."

"Still acting like a sergeant, James?" Susannah scratched at discolourations in her cheek.

"Hmm, guess so." I shook Ulman's hand. "How ya doing, Den?"

"Me? I'm fine. How's the arm?"

"Flapping. Bit stiff, sore, what have you…"

"Happy to have it back."

"Yeah-heh. What can I do for you?"

"Commander Sorge would like to see you."

"Too busy to toddle over 'ere himself then?"

"Pfft, I guess. We're all in his debt for the way he handled Satwa. I can do him a favour now and then."

"Right…" I stuck my free hand in my pocket. "I'll – err – have a bimble in that direction then."

"The commander was quite specific. He did say immediately, sir."

"No choice then." I sighed. "Yep, that's the commander. Still got me danglin' by the bollocks."

"Maybe he wants to give you a medal."

"Hah! He's fucked if he thinks he's pinning any gongs to my shirt."

"Maybe…" Ulman leaned close. "Maybe he wants to give Susannah a commission."

"Nah, he don't have the authority to do that. Took him ages to get mine processed—so he says."

"Everything alright, Trabant?" Susannah sat upright on her bed. "James?"

"Yeah-yeah, I'll be 'round for scoff tonight. We'll finish that chapter tomorrow, Susannah; promise." I followed Ulman out of Susannah's ward and over to mine. "Need sunlight, mate. Can't be cooped up much longer like this."

"Well, it's Malusov Station first then a few more days to Haven. Grass, sir. S'what I miss the most."

"Hunh, yeah. Trees."

"They chopped 'em all down on Cadia. It was just flat steppe what we saw. Miserable. Almost as bad as Henna-Morata."

"I know."

The Cyvox sat on my bedside cabinet with the tapes beside it, as did the damaged horse and the cavalry tags. "Thanks for the loan, Den. Susannah and I enjoyed 'em."

"Susannah?"

"She was in a bad place not that long ago. Same place as me. I think the tapes helped."

"Don't think it was just the tapes, sir." Ulman smiled and pulled at a velcro flap.

"Um, I put something on the blank tape—the one with the empty side. It's secret, Den."

"I'd have preferred it if you'd asked me first. Those tapes can't be wiped."

"Uhh, I—I know. Um, but it could be useful in—in the future."

"Hm." Ulman's dark brows edged closer.

"If you listen to it, will you promise not to tell the commander?"

"You—you recorded one of your conversations?"

"Ssh."

Ulman picked up the last tape and turned the blank side over. "I… see."

"It could help. It's just gotta be in the right hands, is all."

Ulman dropped the tape inside the open pouch and closed the flap. "Are you heading up to him now?"

"Got to, haven't I? You coming?"

On the tram, Ulman held his Merotech between his knees, his fingers tight around the tubular handguard. A burp escaped his lips. "Eurgh, excuse me. Didn't know you did woodwork as a hobby."

"Not me."

"A friend?"

"Mm. Best friend."

"Looked like it was made from the same wood as those tags."

Outside the windows, the light-streaks slowed and became round. When the doors opened, I left Ulman behind and wandered out on to the habitation deck. "Sorry, I—I didn't know." Ulman jogged after me.

"Nah, it's alright. How are your mates?"

"Yeah, good."

"And how much cake 'ave you been scarfin' down?"

"No—ha-ha! Think my body would give out if I tried gobbling too many carbs. You look like you need some more meat on you, way your uniform's hanging off."

"Err, don't have much appetite these days."

"Oh, not even for chocolate cake?"

"No. Den, could I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure."

"Should I keep visiting Susannah every day? Am I—am I being too close?"

"It'll feel strange what you're doing eight to ten months down the line. You'll probably wonder why the hell was I her crutch back then? It's because you've both been through the grinder. That's the only real reason you've got common ground."

"So—so should I give it a few days between each visit? What do I do, Den?"

"I think you should keep doing what you're doing, sir. Once we're down on Haven, Susannah will have all sorts to keep her busy. Right now, when she's weakest, is the time to be there for her. That goes for you too."

"Wouldn't call her weak, Den…"

"You're there too, sir. It's this door here."

"Thanks."

"Sir?"

"Yeah?"

"It may feel right to you—to you and to her—but don't spoil a good friendship. It never pans out how you think it will."

"Okay. Thanks, Den."

"See you around, sir."

I pressed the buzzer and leaned down to the speaker. "Lieutenant Larn, sir."

"Come."

No smile or drink offer met me inside Commander Sorge's office. Instead, documents sat on the desk facing me. "Sit down please, James." Sorge clicked a pen and passed it over. "Have a read of that document. Sign once you're done."

Confidential. Huge black letters stared at me. Beneath the title were numbered paragraphs. Unauthorised disclosure of the information contained in the attached document could be against the defence interests of the Imperium of Man. I skimmed over the need to know beneath and turned the cover sheet over. Nemesis Tessera… Xenos… Unauthorised co-operation…

"This report will never leave this cabin."

"Why print it?"

"Read on."

Further down, after the involvement with the Eldar at Nemesis Tessera was a subject line: Cadia, and beneath it, everything on xenos operations in the Cadian System. How the hell does he know all this? I swiped through three pages filled with information. Inquisitor Osvat Radu Zeleska declared missing in action, suspected target of xenos assassins. No trace of xenos infiltrators could be found in the aftermath.

"Everything in that report will be inside the incinerator in a few minutes' time. Your silence, James, would be preferable."

"Sir, I don't understand. Why bother with this?"

"Sign the dotted line, please."

"I've signed your dotted line—"

"That guaranteed your placement and your commission. This guarantees your silence."

"If I don't?"

"You'll be declared complicit in a conspiracy to undermine Imperial military interests in this sector and I shall be forced to sever my ties to you." Sorge folded his arms and leaned forwards. "James, do you understand the consequences of unauthorised co-operation with enemy aliens? Not just here with you and I, but back home too. If the general public got wind of Imperial soldiers arm-in-arm with the enemy, there would be strikes, rioting, all sorts of unrest spreading through peaceful star systems, far more widespread than we can deal with at this point. Overt bonds with the xenos will wreck the Imperium."

"Maybe it's time to change, sir."

"Change? You want to change public opinion? They'll tear you apart, James. The people will fight like wild animals to keep their views on xenos intact. Any change in relations or softening of attitudes will crush the Imperium from the inside. The whole rotten hive will collapse in on itself before it will change. Change no longer exists."

"Do you hate the Imperium, sir?"

Sorge opened his hand and planted it on the desk. "Sign."

I flipped the report over and read a second entry that exorcised the xenos entirely. Destroyers from 11th Fleet lifted the Guard from Nemesis Tessera and bore them to Cadia. At the bottom of the report, in a separate paragraph: Osvat Radu Zeleska was posthumously awarded the Order of the Gatekeeper for valour shown during the Battle for the Cadian Gate.

Beneath the commendation, I scratched out my signature and passed the report to Sorge. "Sir, I formally request you release the Inquisitor's staff from captivity."

"Denied." Sorge removed the paperclip from the report and shoved the paper in to an incinerator. "We call it loose ends, James." I dug in to my pocket and dropped my officer's pips on the desk. "I wondered where those got to." Sorge opened a thin case and removed a cigarette. "Invisibility is no longer a luxury you can exercise. As an officer, you are owned by the Imperium, and you are the rat caught in the headlamps twenty-four hours a day, young man, even moreso now."

"Loose end, am I?"

"If you wish it. We're coming up on Malusov Station. R&D outpost, a lot of unknowns there wondering why a subaltern in enemy uniform is following two naval officers around. If asked, you'll give them the story you've read on that document and committed to memory. No xenos were ever on Nemesis Tessera or Cadia, or even Grendel. If you were in any way involved in operations with xenos, you would not be disposed to discuss. You will deny it. Deny any existence of xenos and joint human-xenos operations."

"Sir."

"I am lunching with the Obrist and his staff in forty minutes. Join me."

"Sir."

"Dismissed."

The lunchtime company consisted of Commanders Sorge and Barakat, the Obrist and his twenty officers. Sandwiched between Sorge and Barakat, I leaned backwards and looked down the Urgraf sitting on opposite benches. No Seroni then? Barakat caught my eye and smiled knowingly.

"How's the spread, Innes?" Sorge dipped his knife in to a round pot and dug out a dollop.

"Mmm, splendid, Richard. Honestly can't remember the last time we've had the luxury. Paté, is it?"

"First class! Do you like it, James?"

"Yes, sir." I bit in to my slice of toast. Crumbs gathered in my lap.

"First names here, James. It's alright." Innes nudged the pot in my direction. "Grab it while it lasts."

"What kind of R&D do they do, sir?"

"Oh, good question—haha! I've no idea." Sorge pushed my glass of apple juice closer to me. "Are you finishing it, James? Trust me, if you won't I will. Such a rare luxury to come across."

"I saw something called a pine-apple once. Horrid-looking thing. Covered in spikes on the outside. Quite impossible to bite in to as one would an apple. You needed a damned hacksaw to get in to it, but I can tell you it was sweeter than anything I had ever eaten—too sweet to be brutally honest. You'd have three or four small chunks and the acid does your mouth in." Innes poured water from a jug in to his cup. "Ever had pine-apple, James?"

"No, sir." My stomach burbled. "Mm, s'cuse me sirs. My, er—my stomach."

"You alright, James?" Sorge offered his arm. "Siddown, man, you look like you're about to come a cropper."

"I'll—I'll be back, sir." I swung my legs over the bench and wandered along the lunching Urgraf. Benches and tables slid sideways. The doors leading out of the mess spun upwards then slammed closed behind me.

"You alright, mate?" An Urgraf walked past me on the bulkhead. I craned my neck and stared up at him. "Bad bug?"

"Hurgh." I stumbled sideways. Wash basins and mirrors sprouted from the walls. Blue eyes met mine. Water trickled down pale, scarred skin. The hard, rounded edge of the basin cracked against my chin and the ceiling whirled around.

Malusov Station

Lusia, alone in the cage, dragged the gate across and stepped out on to the station's communications centre. Two Skitarii guarded a blast door. One fired static at Lusia. "State your business on this deck."

"My business?" Lusia replied in plain speech. "Working. What are you doing?"

"Valid reply not found."

"Hah-hah. Keep it up." Lusia passed the sentinels and entered Communications. The deck stood at the pinnacle of the spire, and commanded a 360-degree view of the whole station. "Enginseer van Callet? Surprised you would be showing your face up here." Magos Basil Guglielmana retracted his half dozen snaking appendages from the station's central cogitator. Around him, other Magi and Servos were bathed in green light blazing from screens. Cables covered the mesh deck and dangled from the ceiling. The smell of unwashed, necrotic flesh seeped through Lusia's bulging mask. "Or was it something else you were showing earlier?"

"Hmph! How else do you scare away a mob of old men, Basil?" Lusia put her hands on her hips and thrust her head forwards. "I fancy they've never entertained a single innovative thought in their shrivelled-up, walnut minds."

"Don't call me Basil!" The Magos's appendages circled one another and became entwined. "Graagh! Sort yourself out. Well, go on then, spit it out, Enginseer."

"You—you sort yourself out. I've no desperate hurry." Lusia leaned against the back of a cogitator. Her own backpack with its four appendages remained in her quarters.

"That axe perturbs me. Did you need to bring that up here?"

"Halberd. Come on, Basil, it's a sign of office. You carry your smelly little urn around swinging from its chain—oh no, sorry I mistook that smell for something else."

"Let me just…" The Magos slapped his appendages away and straightened his robes. "Your sponsor granted you a place in this division. It did not grant you freedom of the tongue. Go away!"

"We have a visitor."

"What? The enemy?" The Magos's appendages shot outwards and the claws on the tips chattered. "General Alert!"

"Wait, we don't know yet! My Virtual Intelligence picked up a brief energy surge on the fringe of the system."

"Your what?! No wonder there were protests outside your laboratory. Omnissiah, your Archmagos will be receiving a report on this!"

"Don't bother, I'll write it myself. Fear not, Basil, I am carrying out my master's orders to the letter. Can we turn our eye-lenses to matters closer to home?"

"Grrrr…" The Magos filled a socket and swiped a trio of screens around, blocking his view of Lusia. "Nothing on long-range augur. Probably an asteroid."

"Negative on that. It's a cloaking device. Have you ever heard of a Chaos warship with an intact cloak? They're so clumsy and ham-fisted, it's a wonder any of their complex machinery still works."

"Are you done, Enginseer?" The Magos poked a finger around the far-left screen. "I don't require non-essential personnel in my unit."

"No, a bath now and again wouldn't hurt though."

"What did you say?" The Magos leaned around the screens.

"I'll be going." Lusia walked backwards and turned to the door. Inside the lift, Lusia slid a finger behind her neck and touched the implant. "Lilli, are you there?"

"Yes, mistress."

"Summon the others. This may need our attention."

"Yes, mistress. The usual rendezvous?"

"Mm-hm."

The ponderous, grinding lift bore Lusia down from the spire and inside the station's mid-section. Narrow catwalks, suspended hundreds of feet above hangars, looked down on a sea of olive grey, military tents housing wounded ferried in from the Cadian System. Omnissiah, I'm so glad that isn't my division working down there. Lusia touched her AdMech medallion sitting against her breast. Heroes, the lot of them.

Lusia's rendezvous, a drink dispenser in a corridor above the hangars, stood solitary. A few benches looked across the corridor at one another. Another Enginseer, in a hooded, crimson robe identical to Lusia's, sat on a bench; Purvi Varsani. "Oh, Lusia, I got the call. What's going on?"

"Hello, Purvi. Recaf?" Lusia placed three credits in to the dispenser's tray and pushed it in.

"Erm, not for me thank you. I don't normally take caffeine before lunch."

"Mm." Lusia leaned down and took the plastic cup. "There's always just that tiny bit too much in the cup, and you…" Black liquid spilled over the rim. "Ahhh." Lusia transferred her cup to her left hand and sucked on her fingers.

"Ruchi, Malgosia, and Stef are coming, are they?"

"Mm-hm, should be."

"Is it urgent?"

"Well, the Magos doesn't think an anomaly appearing in-system is anything to be concerned about."

"Anomaly?"

"All the signals of a cloaked ship breaching the boundaries. My money is on Imperial spies come to snoop on the Archmagos's projects. They'll be disguised as a medical vessel, I suspect."

"There's Malgosia and Stef." Purvi stood up and tugged her belt down.

"Lusia! Who have you been flashing?" Malgosia Reih's glowing monocle dropped from her right eye and hung from a chain.

"Mm." Lusia sipped her black recaf. "I demonstrated the boldness of innovation to the luddites—without a halberd."

"Where is your shame, Lusia?" Stefani Amit's eyes slanted downwards and darkened. "A proper follower would not—"

"—Fine, nor would she reverse-engineer Tau EM weaponry and build it back from the ground up in to an infantry weapon."

"Urgh!" Stef slapped her hand against her face. "No wonder they are gathered outside your lab day and night."

"Recaf, Stef?" Malgosia slotted credits in to the dispenser and tapped the buttons.

"No thank you, Mal."

"Black recaf… spot the Heretek."

"I'll gladly live with that moniker if it amounts to pushing our projects on to the production line."

"And how is the railgun coming along? Found a way to allow it more than one shot before the whole barrel needs changing?"

"Did the caseless rifle project ever amount to anything?" Stef said. "I thought you had brought the prototype with you from Cadia."

"I didn't have the chance to bring anything material. I lost my previous body in a firefight. The Archmagos took copies of the blueprints with him, so that's all stored in his consciousness."

"Have any of the Archmagos's projects been accepted for field-testing, Lusia?" Purvi said.

"Two. One, back in '989 and the other three years ago."

"What were they?"

"Longer-lasting batteries for infantrymen's voxcasters and a clip-on muzzle brake for IM .338 rifles; a Krulbek device we called it."

"So, there was some success then." Purvi smiled. "I'd be proud of that."

"Yes, but the Krulbek was intended for full-auto .338s. Every armourer I've spoken to has sworn that their slug rifles are all locked to semi straight from the production line, so it's useless. And any units still with heavy-barrelled .338s in a section automatic role are PDF not expected to fight. Might as well have designed an effing condom for Ogryns."

"Language!" Malgosia squeezed her cup, sending recaf over the rim. "I bet they got an eyeful, those idiots protesting. Oh, how is your new designer body, Andalusia?"

"Ruchi?" Purvi raised herself on tiptoes and waved. "Ruchi!"

"Hello, hello." Ruchi Mathanara clasped Stef's hand. "Is this a new one? Recaf break fifteen minutes before lunch. Hello, Purvi, Mal. What's this about a new body, Lusia?"

"That's—that's not what we're here for, Ruchi—ohh!" More recaf spilled. "I'm… trying to tell you that visitors will be arriving. We don't know who or how many. I'd like us to be in contact with one another throughout in case they are spies. If you'd please follow me. We're going to my pod."

"Why couldn't we have met over there? Dragged us all this way," Stef muttered to Malgosia.

"Pfft, gathering around a recaf machine must look less conspiratorial." Malgosia slurped her drink.

"Hoo-hoo-hoo! Better not let the boys see us here."

"Oh, who are these boys then? It's just a bunch of old men frightened to death by what's under Lusia's skirts."

"Hee-hee!"

The five Enginseers trod the ground so recently occupied by the protestors and climbed the steps up to Lusia's pod. "Did somebody have his lunch out here?" Stef lifted her foot and swiped at her heel. "Got an admirer, Lusia?"

"Teach you to go around barefoot, Stef!"

"Footwear displeases the Omnissiah."

"Oh, don't talk such nonsense. Let's get you measured out sometime."

"Everyone sanitise." Lusia paused in the small, circular antechamber outside her lab and coated her hands in gel. "Come on, Stef, you touched your feet."

"And which drill instructor have you been seeing in off-hours, Lusia?"

"Ooh-hoo, tell, Lusia, tell!"

"Well, at least it shouldn't be difficult to cook for an imaginary boyfriend." Malgosia, grinning, slapped gel on the back of Ruchi's neck.

"Mal, it's not sunscreen!"

"She'll need it if she so much as looks out of a window when we're back at Orsolya."

"Well, a DI's no whiff on stamina. I like a fleshy who can keep up."

"These fantasies. Do you come up with them every lunchbreak?" Lusia pulled on gloves. "Sounds like you've rinsed the sponge dry, rather."

"Know what else is dry?" Malgosia poked at Stef. Both giggled.

Blanks screens filled Lusia's little observation chamber. At her command, Lilli powered on and green light flooded the chamber. "Alright, let's have outbound communications please, Lilli," Lusia said. "Inbound too."

Behind Lusia, Malgosia tugged at a few strands of hair left on Ruchi's head. "Oh! I put my hood down…" Ruchi batted Malgosia's hand away. "Can't you leave well alone, Mal?"

"Heh-heh."

"Should have brought something to read." Purvi perched herself on the edge of the surface supporting the monitors behind Lusia. "Lusia, are we really needed?"

"Don't you want to know who it is that's out there?" Lusia drew a highbacked swivel chair up and sat down. "I for one…" Lusia's fingers clattered on a keyboard. "…Would very much prefer our secrets preserved, or would you rather they were leaked to the military? I can't think of anything worse than long-noses snooping over our shoulders."

"I can." Stef rubbed a file along her nails. "Press."

"Omnissiah forbid if the papers got wind of your little think-tank here. That'd end the Archmagos' career if one of his disciplines was exposed reverse-engineering captured alien weaponry."

"Speakers please, Lilli." Lusia rolled herself back from the monitors.

"…Malusov Station, this is Zarkaniy. We are holding at 350 000 klicks. Request permission to enter your airspace."

"Zarkaniy, we do not see you on Auger. Transmit your present position and heading."

"That's the Magos!"

"Ssh, Purvi."

"Received. State your cargo and purpose."

"Cadia evacuees. Five-hundred approx. We are two-thirds of the way to Haven."

"State your name and affiliation."

"Commander Richard Sorge, Imperial Naval Intelligence—"

Lusia slapped the desk. "Knew it. Knew they'd come for me!"

"Lusia, we're listening." Ruchi put a finger to her mask.

"—Have a disciplinary case I want off the ship. Do you have in-house containment?"

"Affirmative, Commander."

"A disciplinary case?" Malgosia pinched her chin.

"Deck space for a Devourer Dropship would be preferable. It's our smallest transfer."

"Understood, Commander. Please transmit your verification codes and await our reply."

"Devourer Dropship? They're not Space Marines, are they?"

"I don't know, Stef. Could either you or Purvi keep an eye on the arrival and update me once they've disembarked?"

"Lunch first."

"I'm sorry?"

"Lunch," Malgosia said. "We're having leftovers today. Stuff that needs eating up."

"And the meeting with the Magos, Lusia. We've a meeting at 1400."

"You lot—the least inquisitive Enginseers I've ever met. There's a mystery. You should be jumping at the chance to find out more."

"I'd be jumping if it granted me passage to Haven," Ruchi said. "Away from the buzz-saws splattering blood up the wall every minute."

"Ruchi, they're doing the best they can do. Who knows, maybe there will be room aboard this Zarkaniy for the wounded."

"Hah! Negotiated by the Magos? I've known Servos more persuasive than him."

"Basil the Negotiator, hurhurhurhurhur."

"Oh, oh, oh." A pixelated bug face crawled across the 480 x 480 monitor. Antenna wiggled and the mouth bobbed open. "He knows."

Blocky text rolled across the screen beneath the bug. STAY OUT OF MY NETWORK YOU-

"What's that last bit?" Ruchi leaned over Lusia's shoulder. "F-U-star-star-star-star-star, C-U—" Lusia sprung from her chair and pressed her hands against the screen.

"Hahaha! Ohh, Lusia." Malgosia patted Lusia's shoulder and headed for the door. "Lunchtime?"

"Mmm, I'm hungry." Purvi and Ruchi followed.

"Coming, Lusia?" Stef hovered.

"You go ahead, Stef. I've just go to…" Lusia called up a cross-section of the station. "Lilli, tell me which hangar is the most likely destination for a Devourer-Class Dropship. Correlate data with Zarkaniy coordinates. Let me just transfer them to you…"

"Yes, mistress."

A high-pitched whine filled my ears. I hunched my shoulders and bit in to my lips. Thick braces held my wrists and ankles tight against the arms and legs of a chair. Bursts ripped from a headset clamped down on my ears. A coiled wire trailed down my neck and inside my shirt. Through stinging eyelids, I glimpsed a tiny red light shining in the darkness in front of me.

"Who are you?"

"A soldier."

"You're an office boy."

"I'm an officer."

"Play-acting the life of another."

"…No." Lights snapped on, dimming then brightening. The screaming pitch blasted through the headset. I cocked my head and winced.

"Who is Oruc Veen?"

My chest trembled. "Ah-actor."

"Who is Oruc Veen?"

My fingertips dug in to the chair's arms. "He's an… Actor." Clamping my teeth together, I threw my head back. "He's a crotchety old fart that can't get it up!" Blood ran over my lip and down my chin. My boots drummed on the floor.

"WhoisOrucVeenWhoisOrucVeenWhoisOrucVeen?"

Bells crashed in my ears. "Where is Osvat Radu Zeleska?"

My jaw wobbled. "With the Emperor." Spittle launched from my teeth. The wailing headset vibrated. The braces dug in to my shaking wrists.

"Where is Osvat Radu Zeleska?"

"He's… He's… He's…" My chin hit my breast. The skin on my forehead burned. "On Cadia." A woman shrieked. Children wailed. Nails screeched on a blackboard. I jerked my head forwards. The headphones remained stuck. Tilting my head, I knocked the metal cup against my shoulder. Drool leaked over my cut lip and mixed with blood.

"What are the Ynnari?"

Eldar. I sucked blood from my lip. "M—mercs." Lights flashed. The phones bled noise in to my head.

"What are the Ynnari?"

"Fuck if I know—Bloody fairies for all I care!" I tore at the arms and rocked the chair. "If this is the way you treat an officer, I'd hate to be a sarn't still." White light broke through my eyelids. "LOOK ME IN THE EYE!" The phones fell silent. Sporadic screams blared in my ears. The red eye watched from the shadows.

"Who is Izuru Numerial?"

My lower lip quivered and stretched. The bonds around my chest tightened. Tears seeped from my eyes and crept down my cheeks. My nails clawed the arms and gouged marks in to it. Two tiny, orphans with pale faces and dark hair stared at me. I'm so sorry. I couldn't save her.

Needles bored in to my head. All along my body, my skin tingled and itched. Sweat glued the back of my shirt to the seat. I made fists with my toes and scraped them along my insoles. Screams punctuated the silence. Lights flashed on and off. Blood running down my neck, I rocked back and forth.

Fingers ripped the straps around my chest, wrists, and ankles loose. My boot shot out and thumped a leg and I lunged at a figure in red. The headset jumped back and clattered against the floor. "James—Umph!" Spit landed on a bulging respirator. A palm slammed against my cheek and bowled me sideways. My shoulder hit the floor. "Dammit, James!" A forearm wrapped around my throat. My feet kicked out. "James. James, don't struggle!" I thrust a clawed hand behind my head and scratched at eye lenses. Gurgling, I dug my fingers in to a rubberised mask and pulled it askew. "That's it. Let it out. Let it out."

Lusia relaxed her grip on James's limp body and withdrew her forearm. "Damn it, James." Lusia extricated herself and set her mask straight. A garbled squawk bubbled from the fallen headset. "Bastards." Lusia seized it and ripped the cable out. "Bastards."

"Lusia? Lusia, are alright in there?"

"I'm fine!" Lusia knelt by James and scooped him in to her arms. "Oh, you dirty cowards."

Men in grey uniforms slumped unconscious in an observation suite. A script sat beneath an address system. "Lusia, I can't find any insignia. Why aren't they wearing any insignia?" Malgosia tugged at a collar and thrust the interrogator back in to his seat.

"Hired guns, Mal." Lusia smacked the door release behind her. "Deniable assets."

"Questions here." Purvi waved the script. "Doesn't seem like they got anything useful out of him."

"Why torture one of their own?" Ruchi seized a head by the hair and tilted it sideways, revealing a tiny letter beneath the ear. "Blood type?"

"Can't be the worst sin they've committed." Stef peered out of the open door. "We are still clear." Two soldiers wearing black assault vests lay just inside the room. Matte black ceramites with horizontal white stripes on the backs lay next to them. "Do we take the guns?"

"Leave the guns, take the body." Lusia laid James on a hover-sled and drew a bodybag around him.

"Is he dead?"

"Not by a long shot. This one's a tough biscuit."

"He barely looks old enough to shave."

"Alright, everyone out!" Lusia waved the others out. "Lilli, nullify the past ten minutes' feed."

"Yes, mistress."

"Ruchi, Mal, can you make sure our way ahead is clear?"

"Lusia, our meeting." Purvi flashed a holographic chrono. "We are already ten minutes late."

"We'll go once we've got James to my lab." Lusia zipped the bag up to James's nose.

"James?"

"Come on. Out, out!" Lusia shunted the sled through the door and swung it to the right. "Stef, close up, please."

"Who is he, Lusia?" Purvi trotted beside Lusia. "I mean, is one boy worth such trouble?"

"Don't ever ask me that again, Purvi. You weren't there."

"Weren't where?"

"Cadia. The one blasted place he won't want reminding of. Omnissiah strike those heathen bastards down."

"Lusia!"

"I said it. And I'll say it again and again. Whoever ordered this is waking up with his foreskin stitched to his eyes and his penis rammed down his throat."

"Should I bother to write a will in case we are all for the chop?"

"Someone's for the chop, I can tell you."

"Lusia, are you…?"

"No, Purvi, I am not." Lusia massaged her stomach. "Sick inside."

"Skitarii!" Malgosia and Ruchi came running back. "Lusia, patrol."

"Keep going. There's nothing amiss." Lusia steered the sled to one side. "Mal, keep going."

"Winging it, are we? By the Machine God, this was a terrible idea!"

"Oh, you're happy for this injustice to go ahead, are you, Mal?"

"Pah!" Malgosia flounced around the corner.

"It's all locked up, Lusia." Stef came up behind Lusia and Purvi. "Are we heading out?"

"With discretion please, Stef."

"I can take the sled if you want."

"No-no, I've got it." Lusia's fingers tautened. Two Skitarii prowled towards her.

"Madam Enginseers."

"Good day," Lusia fired back in Tech.

Throughout the station's precinct, two-man patrols shambled, but nobody questioned the full bodybag lying on the sled. Still, Lusia only began breathing easier once she had carried James up the stairs and through her pod to her lab.

"Looks skin and bones, he does," Stef said.

"Imperial Guard rations. The absolute minimum cost at keeping the body operational."

"I tried some of their rations once." Purvi tossed a cushion from an L-shaped leather couch. "Closest I ever came to contracting Salmonella."

"Keep that. I need it under his head."

"Sorry." Purvi went and fetched the cushion.

"Ha-ha! Salmonella?" Ruchi leaned over the back of the couch. "Purvi, that should be on your medical record."

"Are you sure this boy is Imperial Guard? I don't recognise his uniform." Purvi wiggled the cushion beneath James's head. "He's no Cadian, not with that camouflage."

"It's Lizard Pattern. Could be he had to change uniforms quickly. He was wearing it when we first met." Lusia straightened James's legs and laid his hands on his chest. "It's no big matter now, Purvi."

"The whelp is safe. Can we go now?" Malgosia spun a roll of thread seal tape on her forefinger.

"You'll call him nothing but his given name," Lusia growled. "None of you can touch him. None of you can even look at him!"

Malgosia dropped the tape on a workbench and retreated, her hands up. "Alright then. I had no idea you had such an attachment to this skin-and-bones-job. I'd love to continue this discussion in-transit."

"The meeting." Ruchi clapped her hands. "Omnissiah, we're how many minutes late?"

"What will we tell the Magos?" Stef said.

"I'll say we're lovers and for him to deal with it," Lusia snapped.

"Lusia, you're frightening us." Purvi touched Lusia's shoulder. "We want to help."

"You can help by leaving. He won't want so many new faces clustering around him when he awakens."

"And just how is he supposed to recognise what you keep hidden under that mask? He will remember something else, surely."

"That is private business."

"I smell Archmagos-flavoured conspiracy." Malgosia's eye lenses narrowed to slits and tilted down. "Hmph. Can't tell the girls."

The four Enginseers trailed Lusia out of her lab and in to a corridor with a long window looking inside. "Lock the door please, Lilli."

"Um, I hope there's nothing in there that boy can—"

"That boy is a soldier, and a very brave one at that. What he went through on Cadia is nothing to ridicule—"

An object crashed against the glass, leaving a jagged line in it. "God-Emperor!" Purvi jumped and snatched at her medallion. Ruchi clapped a hand over her mouthpiece.

"OH MY—!" Stef shied away from the crack.

"Lilli, the door! Unlock the door!" Lusia pelted back to the lab entrance.

"Suppose a cattle gun wouldn't be out of the question—"

"Shut up, Mal!" Lusia rushed in to the lab. "James, James, it's me, Lusia—Andalusia!" Blood staining his chin and neck, James held a stool above his head. "Look." Lusia loosened her mask and lowered her hood. "It's me. Valued Enginseer to his eminence, the Archmagos. Archmagos Dominus Belisarius Cawl." Lusia tugged her mask away from her face and balanced it on her breast. "That was us at the top of the tower, together, doing the Archmagos's work. What nobody else could."

"Lusia, he's not the man you knew." Purvi's fingers curled around Lusia's arm.

"Lusia, I think he's gone."

Lusia threw off Purvi's hand, spun, and flapped her arms. "Out! Out!"

"LUSIA!"

The stool thudded against Lusia's head and she toppled forwards. "Oomph! No, leave him be!"

"Throne of—!" Malgosia caught Lusia. The stool clattered and rolled across the floor.

James lurched backwards, collided with a workbench, and took off.

"I'm sounding the alarm." Ruchi dove at a box fitted to the wall by the door.

"Ruchi, no!" Lusia flung herself at Ruchi and pinned her arms to her sides. "Get the f—! Get away from that. You're not calling it in!"

"Erm, he's run off."

"No loud noises!" Lusia let Ruchi go. "Let me go after him—" Glass shattered further inside the lab. "Oh, no…" Lusia ran through the workshop and in to a display room containing cabinets. Glass carpeted the deck. A section covering antique weapons had caved inwards and one of the wooden racks was bare. "James, where are you?"

"Omnissiah, don't tell me those are loaded."

"No-one's made black powder for centuries, Stef. They're display pieces."

"James, I want to help you." Lusia ran through a garden and crossed the corridor in to a generator room. "I swear on my life, I will do everything I can to protect you."

"Oh, come on, Lusia, he's not human anymore."

Lusia barrelled at Malgosia and propelled her backwards. "GET OUT OF HERE!"

"Lusia—oh!" Malgosia's back hit the wall.

"If I ever see you again…" Lusia jerked her thumb. "I'll rip that mechadendrite from its socket and shove it up your crack. Give you a new tongue to whine with!"

"Mal, Mal." Ruchi took Mal by the shoulder and steered her away from Lusia. "We'll see the Magos now, yes? See the Magos."

Lusia stumbled over to the massive generator and flung her foot at it. Purvi and Stef glanced at each other. "Can we—"

"If you want to help, Purvi, get me a blanket and some hot tea—with milk too. Stef, go with Purvi. Don't need anyone else clomping around here. Poor James is terrified out of his mind, for Throne's sake."

"He's not our problem, Lusia."

"No, he's my problem. I won't see injustice served to one who aided our cause."

"And how did that go, Lusia? Who feels the brunt of the fallout now?"

"Are you pinning that on me?"

"Are you trying to make amends for a failed operation; is that it?"

Lusia growled something inaudible and stalked off through the habitation unit. "James, please…" Lusia righted a chair and tucked it under a circular table next to the built-in kitchen. The door of an overhead cupboard at the end of the unit was ajar. I thought I closed this. Lusia stooped and peered inside. "James?"

"Lusia, I've found a blanket." Stef walked in to the hab unit holding a shiny blanket.

"That's an insulation blanket. I need a proper blanket, Stef, come on!" Lusia shut the cupboard door and stood up. "Ohhh…." Lusia parted her dreadlocks and pressed against where her artificial skin had broken. "Blast it." A milky white liquid stuck to Lusia's fingers. "Oh, James." Lusia wiped the fluid off on her sleeve and pressed her thumb in to the inner corner of her eye. At time like these I wish I could cry.

"Lusia? Purvi, can you fetch Lusia, please?"

"Lusia. Found him." Purvi folded up the blanket and threw it in the sink.

"Is she coming?"

"Where is he, Stef?" Lusia brushed past Purvi.

"Cold Storage, Lusia."

"…How did he get in to Cold Storage?" Lusia pulled Stef along. "Stef, how? It was locked!"

"I… I must have left my keycard—"

"Omnissiah, Stef!" Lusia belted up to the circular hatch and latched on to the edges. "Pull!"

"How on Eros did he slip through that gap? It's tiny!" Stef and Lusia dragged the hatch open. Cold air flooded the corridor. "Phwooh, must be twenty-below in there."

"Stay here. I'll bring him out. Make sure that tea's ready."

"Oh, be careful please."

"Compassion, Stef. There won't be any more shouting. I promise."

"Lusia?" Purvi ran up carrying a blanket. "Took it from your washing basket, Lusia, sorry."

"No worries, Purvi."

"Do you need—?"

"No, no thank you." Lusia sidled through the gap and in to a room packed with sealed containers on high shelving. Fog swirled around the hem of Lusia's robe. How low is the mercury in here? Ten, twenty below? Lusia hung the blanket over her arm and folded it in to a manageable shape. Poor thing. How old is he? Twenty?

James huddled in the corner of a room outside a decontamination chamber. One-piece suits and respirator masks hung from pegs and a thin frosty sheen glinted on the walls. Pressed in between the corner and a waste bin, James held the antique weapon between his knees. Frozen lines shone on his cheeks.

"Oh, James." Lusia avoided James and headed over to the hanging suits and straightened them. "I am overjoyed to see you again, and I'd really like to offer you some warm tea. You are my guest and it's only fair." The blanket dangling from her forearm, Lusia folded it smaller and brought it over to James. "Little chilly in here. It doesn't bother me but… Well, I wouldn't want you to catch cold now." Smiling, Lusia wiggled the blanket around James's shoulders. Her fingers closed around James's wrist and rubbed. "Cold hands. Colder than mine. I've had friends lose fingers to cold because they underestimated it. I know you won't make that mistake." Lusia's slid her hand around James's tight fingers. "They're cold, aren't they? Let me give warmth." Air tickled James's white skin. "Other side? Can I look at the other side?" Lusia lifted James's fingers away from the rifle's body one by one. "Mm, that's better." James's thumb came away and Lusia eased the rifle out of James's reach and laid it on the floor next to her. "Tea's probably well-brewed by now. I might be able to scrape together some biscuits if you ask me nicely."

James fell forwards. Lusia's hands dove under his arms and drew him in to her bosom. "We look out for our friends, James."

Feet crunched against the frost layer. "Lusia, I have a sedative." Purvi held a narrow tube with a needle on the lower end.

Lusia replied in Tech. "Leave it. Purvi, it's for Orks. It'll kill him. Take the rifle, please. We're coming out."

Bearing James in her arms as she would a child, Lusia left the cold behind and nudged the hatch closed with her foot. Leather creaked beneath James's body when Lusia laid him on semi-circular seating surrounding a small dining table in the hab unit. Now, where is that tea? Lusia lifted a tea-bag out by its tab and disposed of it. Damn, it's over-brewed. Oh well. Discolourations populated the surface of the tea. Lusia dipped a spoon in and stirred. Rest up, my friend. Many topics call for our attention, and there is not a lot of time in which to discuss them.

"On to page six." Magos Guglielmana very slowly turned the page and smoothed the yellowed parchment out. "The Culicula Policy. Rollout date is fixed for zero-six, nine-eight-nine, nine-nine-nine-point M41. Monitor Continus has control. Monitor Continus?"

The Magos, along with thirteen other AdMech, sat around a table, each space fitted with a foldout screen. Instead of employing the cogitators, the Magos had a nine-inch thick logbook open on the table and an old-fashioned quill sitting inside an inkpot. Lusia, sitting between Malgosia and Stef, rested her chin in her hand. Her unused pen nestled between the pages of her notebook. The end of Stef's pen wiggled and she tore off her page and moved it over to Lusia.

Monitor Incontinus has control of his bowels. Lusia's chest shook. She pressed the back of her hand against her lips and swept the page off the table. Opposite Lusia, Monitor Continus, multi-armed and hunched over, scratched at a scroll of parchment and laid his quill down. A mouthpiece hung from a chain around his neck and layer upon layer of torn-up, faded robes piled on to his bloated body. Tech burbled from a dust-coated speaker.

"In Gothic, Monitor."

"Repeat, Magos."

"In Gothic, Monitor."

Oh, for… Lusia's thumb pressed down on the end of her pen. The bloody Culicula Policy. Expenditure cuts while the enemy rides bareback through the whole Segmentum!

"Turn to page thirteen. Follow through to page thirty-one."

Nineteen pages! You cannot be serious. Lusia bit the end of her pen. Biocogitatus Girish slumped in his chair, his head cocked and his chest rising and falling slowly. Malgosia scribbled something and pushed a torn-off page at Lusia. Please can you ram this up Basil's lower socket and nail it to his ribcage!

Lusia returned with: I'll gladly give him something to hang his used diapers on thank you. Underlining her reply, Lusia passed it back to Malgosia, who smirked. Stef sipped from a glass of water. Purvi and Ruchi passed doodles to one another beneath the table.

"Interrogative. To what extent will the Spector-Loxn Policy of zero-four, nine-seven-one, nine-nine-eight-point M41 affect the Culicula Policy? Interrogative. Will the percentages stack?"

No, no, no, don't ask questions. He'll be talking all day. Lusia's teeth pressed together and she wrote three letters on her page. Malgosia stuck two fingers in her mouth and jerked her head.

"Enginseer van Callet, you wish to input?"

Lusia spun her pen. "Magos Guglielmana? Interesting about the fresh-baked policy. I'm… curious how our guests factor in to the day to day running of Malusov. You know, the unscheduled visitors we had at lunchtime."

Hoods turned to the Magos. "We—we would consider that, er, confiden—classified, classified!"

Malgosia snorted. "Your hand applied your signature to the dotted line, did it, Magos?"

"N—no, a naval commander named Sorge brought aboard a general prisoner. The general prisoner was transferred to our secure facility. The commander and his escort then departed."

Omnissiah, he doesn't know. "I see. Everything is ship-shape then, Magos?"

"You want to know whether everything is ship-shape, Enginseer? I wasn't aware I had to run my affairs past you. Do you enjoy the pitchforks and torches outside your door day and night?" Laughter rippled around the table. Malgosia chuckled alongside them.

"I find it keeps me sharp, Magos. I don't know about you, but the last action I saw was at Cadia."

"Yes, well, most of us make do with the bodies our mothers gave us, Enginseer." The Magos tapped his dry nub against the table.

"Most of us make do with the ideas the Machine God blesses us with." The Magos stabbed the quill against the table, cracking the spine. "It's what we're born with. It's what we die with."

"You walk a perilously thin line, Enginseer—"

"At a time like this, I do believe delving further in to the R&D of individual weapon systems is preferential over cost-cutting and other bean-counting drivel."

"Heretek," murmured the Biocogitatus.

"In a streak of tremendous irony, the turn of the millennium has yielded great swathes of the Cadian System and other outlying systems to the enemy, as you will hopefully be aware of."

"You continue wallowing in your little think-thank all you wish, madam. You and that program you've named. Keep the shackles on it. Wouldn't want an accident to happen now, would we?"

"I am under orders, and I will continue to obey those orders for as long as I am capable of, Magos. It's a fresh playing field out there. New rules, new teams."

"Save us the sports analogy, Enginseer!"

"You—you really—all of you really astonish me."

"Not nearly as astonished as the Archmagos will be when I refer you to the AdMech Board of Conduct."

"Refer away!" Lusia flipped her logbook shut and got up from her chair. "I've got nothing else to say." Lusia clamped her logbook beneath her arm, pushed her chair in, and swept around the table.

"Observe pages thirteen to thirty-one."

"Oh, d'you smell that?" Lusia paused by the door and pointed a finger at the ceiling. "Doesn't come across a little stagnant in here, does it? Hm." She shrugged and left the conference chamber. Feather-fellating fartbags.

"Lilli?" Lusia entered her pod and shrugged off her cloak and hung it up. "Lilli, how is our guest?"

"Occupied, mistress."

"Occupied? How d'you mean?" Lusia shoved her logbook in to a safe and set the lock. "Lilli?"

Dry bristles scraped across the floor of the display room. James, standing up with his back to Lusia, swept glass fragments in to a small pile on an open cloth. "Oh, James, I didn't…"

James shoved a mound in to the main pile and leaned his broom against the display case. "Not dreaming, am I?"

"No. I'm sorry, James."

"I'm sorry for dragging you in this." James folded the cloth's corners over and tied a knot.

"No—no! James, you didn't need to do this."

"I'll pay." James picked the sack up by the knot. "Pay for this."

"Can I—? James, did you cut yourself?" Lusia held out her hand. "I'll take that."

James clung on to the sack. "Mm-mm."

"Okay, okay." Lusia raised her palms. "Would you like another drink?"

"I've had one, thanks."

"Shall we…?" Lusia led James back to the hab unit. An empty mug sat on the table, leaving a brown ring on the surface. James dumped the sack in to waste and sat down. "I'm—I'm very happy to see you." Lusia smoothed her robe beneath her and moved on the seat. "Sorry for the confusion before. The Archmagos kindly commissioned a new body for me. Not—er—not every day you can slip in to something fresh and clean as a new body—ha-ha!" Lusia rested her arms on the table and crossed her thumbs. "Just me here. Me and Liselotte. Say hello, Lilli. Run it through Public."

"Hello, guest."

"…Hello?" James's eyes roved around the ceiling.

"My artificial consciousness. I coded her myself from the ground up. Three hours that took. Slow."

"Oh."

"Hungry?"

"No, er, no thank you, ma'am."

"It's alright. You can call me Lusia."

"Um. Mmm." James planted an elbow on the table and pressed his brow against his hand.

"May I ask where you're going?"

"Haven."

"Ohh, I've been looking to wangle a posting to Haven. Or—Orsolya, was it?"

"Mm."

"Orsolya would be perfect. Anything to get me away from the closed minds and the unimaginative old farts here—ha-ha!" Lusia swallowed. "Another drink, James?"

"I'm alright, thanks."

"Very well." Lusia went over to the worktop and flipped open the kettle's lid. Steam gushed from the interior. "Do you like honey and lemon?" Lusia picked a circular tin from a cupboard and unscrewed the lid. "James?"

"Never had it."

First time for everything. Lusia added more water to the kettle and clicked the button. "Just a bit of zest. Little bit of tang in the morning gets me going."

"You grow things?"

"Some. It's not agricultural though. It just brings a bit of colour to the place." Lusia noticed a plastic packet containing brown seeds lying on the table. "Oh, you have my curiosity now. Give me a second. I'll just put this on to brew." Pale yellow liquid filled Lusia's mug near to the brim. "Now, tell me more." Lusia sat down and cupped her chin. "I'm interested."

James played with the packet. "I've—I've never grown anything in my life. Nothing special anyhow."

"I'd love to take a closer look. Do you mind?"

"Mm, yeah." James passed the packet across. "It's a mountain flower."

"Where did you—? No, sorry. Er, do you know the name?"

"Forgot." James rubbed a fingertip across a cut on his lip. "I made a promise. I—I made a promise to grow it. Can't even remember the bloody name now."

"I understand."

"You don't."

"I understand why you wish to see this bloom." Lusia folded the packet in half and opened a leather pouch at her waist. "I understand what it means to you. That is all."

"You'd do it?"

"It's the very least I could do."

"You've already fouled up his plans."

"Whose plans? Is it this commander I've been hearing about?"

"Mm-hm. This—this farce was s'posed to get me to start behaving like a proper officer. As if a big-eared boy from the back-end of nowhere can wear pips."

"Let's not talk about this now. Leave it for a day at least. There's no hurry. You are safe here."

"I do and I don't want to stay here. He's got Trip and Susannah at his mercy. If I'm not there, he'll wipe them clean off the board." James wiped the dark-purple ring beneath his eye. "If you're not an asset, you're a liability."

"Would you like a shower? Warm shower to loosen the muscles?" Lusia smiled. "Hot water and soap."

"Y-yeah. Yes, please." James sniffed.

"I'll show you." Lusia led James to a washroom with a walk-in shower. "Fresher is just there. Only one lever. Cold one way, hot the other. Towels are on the rack. Need anything just shout."

"Mmm, thank you."

"No problem."

"Lusia."

Lusia's smile disappeared on her way back to the hab unit. Poor thing. Nobody should be put under that at such a tender age. What was the commander thinking, setting up a mock-interrogation! Scarred for life now, I'll imagine.

"Lilli, Noosphere, please. Dim the lights too." Lusia folded herself in to a reclining leather chair in a cell just off the hab unit. A curved monitor extended on an articulated arm. Password: Reclamation. Lusia's fingers skipped across the air. "Andalusia van Callet."

"Verified," Lilli said.

"Glad to be connected again, Liselotte. For how long do the blossoms bloom?"

"Second step verification approved. Welcome, Mistress Enginseer."

"Lilli, I'm after a service record. Richard Sorge, a commander in Imperial Naval Intelligence. Can you find me his curriculum vitae?"

"Further data requested."

"Lilli, all I have is a name, a rank, and an organisation. We've gone with less."

"That information requires amaranth-level clearance, mistress."

"Amaranth? I can never remember these levels." Lusia played her finger across a trackpad. "Run a general search on the name Richard Sorge please, Lilli."

"One hit, mistress."

"Bring it up onscreen." A news article appeared. Grukan Naval Barracks Bombed. "That's thirty-five years' old."

"Positive identification in the commendations, mistress."

"Where?" Lusia scrolled down to a collection of black and white picts attached to the article. "Okay, are these the deceased?"

"Yes, mistress. Obituaries below."

"Where are the commendations?"

"Second page."

Lusia crossed a break and settled on a list of names. "Sorge, Reichert A. Here we go. Awarded Wounded Lion for wounds sustained during the bombing. Further awarded Cerulean Skull for rescuing two cadets from a collapsing building. Hmm, talk about a jump-start to your career. Twenty-two years' old. Must've tapped in to Rejuvi, our commander, if he's still in the field. Anything else, Lilli?"

"Nothing else available for public viewing, mistress."

"There must be something else—something! You don't disappear from public record straight after graduating from the naval academy. In fact, there is no record of Sorge graduating."

"Possible Scandal, mistress? If he was connected to powerful figures through familial ties, a scandal would significantly diminish their political standing. No doubt, his name would be scrubbed from the cadet roster."

"Maybe." Lusia bit down on her fingertip. "I didn't think Naval Intelligence would be so secretive."

"Dark Operations involvement would warrant a tightly-sealed dossier, mistress."

"Dark Ops…"

"A barrier on the ladder of succession, mistress. An agent would be forever damned to obscurity and a middling rank were he to tread that path."

"Employment of mercs for wetwork ticks a few boxes." Lusia crossed her legs. "Now we've prodded the hornets' nest, the whole hive will come at us in an aggressive capacity."

"How long will it be before the Magos runs his mouth, mistress?"

"Mm, our one line of defence. I think a change of scene would suit our needs better." Lusia disconnected herself from the Noosphere and swung down to the floor.

"Should we have ended the humans' lives?"

"Is murder your first advocate for a solution, Lilli?" Far away, a two-note alarm blared. The hab unit's lights dimmed. "General Alert."

"Affirmative, mistress."

"Out comes the hive."