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thout
involving yourself in this。'
I think he expected me to be angry。 I wasn't。
'You're right… but I can't just stop being a servant of the Emperor； not just like that； no matter what the rest of mankind believes me to
be。 If I can do any good here； I will。 I don't care about recognition； or official sanction。'
'I told you he'd say that；' Medea sneered at Aemos。
'Yes； you did。 She did；' he said； looking back at me。
'Sorry to be so predictable。'
'Moral constancy is nothing to apologise for；' said Aemos。
I took the scroll of paper I'd recovered from the annex and showed it to my old savant。
'What do you make of this？' I told them what had happened in the sanctum of the Machine…God。
He studied the curling sheaf for a few minutes； checking back and forth。
'There are elements of this machine code that I can't make out。 Adeptus encryption。 But… well； look at the text breaks。 These are the
filed records of regular transmissions from outside the minehead。 Every… six hours； to the second。'
'And the sanctum's dormant systems would wake up the moment an external transmission came in？'
'In order to record it； yes。 How long were the machines in life？'
I shook my head。 'Two； maybe two and half minutes。'
'Two minutes forty…eight seconds？' he asked。
'Could be。'
He ran his finger along a line of header text above the last code…burst。 'That's exactly how long the latest transmission lasted。'
'So someone's out there？ Outside the minehead on Cinchare somewhere； sending regular transmissions back to the Adeptus annex？'
'Not just someone… it's Bure。 This is the Adeptus code…form for his name；' Aemos leafed back through the sheets and studied the
yellowest and oldest。 'He's been broadcasting for… eleven weeks。'
'What is he saying？'
'I've no idea。 The main text is too deeply codified。 Mechanilingua…A or C or possibly some modern revision of one of the hexadecimal
servito…ware scripts。 Possibly Impulse Analog version nine。 I can't—'
'You can't read it。 That's enough for me。'
'All right。 But I know where he is。'
I paused。 'You do？'
Aemos smiled and adjusted his heavy augmetic eyewear。 'Well； no。 I don't actually know where he is。 But I can find him。'
'How？'
He pointed to a vertical strip of coloured bars that ran down the side of each transmission burst。 'Each broadcast is routinely
accompanied by a spectrographic report on the location of the transmitter。 These colours are a condensed expression of the type； mix
and density of the rock surrounding him。 It's like a fingerprint。 If I had a good quality strata map of Cinchare； and a geologicae auspex；
I could track him down。'
I smiled。 'I knew there was a reason I kept you around。'
'So we're going after him？' asked Medea。
'Yes； we are。 We'll need transport。 A prospecting pod； maybe。 Can you handle one of those？'
'Piece of cake。 Where do we get one？'
'Imperial Allied has an excursion terminal full of them；' Aemos said。 'I saw a schematic guide of the minehead screwed to a wall。' I
had seen just the same sort of thing； but I didn't recall a detail like that。 It reminded me of the extraordinary photo…memory Aemos
possessed。
'What about the chart and auspex you said you'll need？' Medea asked。
'Any prospector machine will have an on…board mineralogicae or geologicae scanner；' said Aemos。 'That will suffice。 A
comprehensive chart； though； that'll be less of a certainty。 We'd better make sure we have one before we set off。'
He sat down on his cot and began to adjust the settings of his wrist…mounted data…slate。
'What are you doing？' I asked； sitting down next to him。
'Downloading a chart from the security office's cogitorum。'
'Can you do that？' Medea asked。
'It's simple enough。 Despite the gravities； my slate's vox…link has enough range to communicate with the office's codifier。 I can make a
text…bridge and ask it to send its chart files。'
'Yeah； yeah； but can you do that without knowing the system's user…code？' Medea asked。
'No；' said Aemos。 'But fortunately； I do know it。'
'How come？'
'It was on a note taped to the edge of the central control desk。 Didn't you see it？'
Both Medea and I shook our heads and smiled。 Just sitting there with Kaleil； talking and sipping fifth…rate amasec； Aemos had soaked
up and memorised every detail of the place。
'One question；' Medea said。 'We don't know what's going on here； but its probably a safe bet your friend is no friend of Kaleil and his
pals。 If we can find him using this； why haven't they？'
'I doubt even an experienced miner could make much sense of this spectroscopy expression。 It's an Adeptus code；' Aemos said；
proudly。
'It's simpler than that；' I said。 'They haven't found it。 The annex was covered in dust； undisturbed。 I don't think Kaleil or any of his
people have been into the annex。 Fear of the Adeptus Mechanicus is a strong disincentive。 They don't know what we know。'
IN THE NIGHT； they came to kill us。
Once Aemos had downloaded the chart … and several other files of data besides … we resolved to get a few hours' sleep before making
our move。
I had been asleep for about a hour when I woke in the dark to find Medea's fingers stroking my cheek。
As soon as I stirred； she pinched my lips shut tight。
'Spectres； invasive； spiral vine；' she whispered。
My eyes became accustomed to the half…light。 Aemos was snoring。
I rose off my cot and heard what Medea had heard： the stairs outside the rec…room creaking。 Medea was pulling on her flight suit； but
keeping her needle pistol aimed at the door。
I pulled my laspistol from its holster on the floor and then leant over to Aemos； putting my hand over his mouth。
His eyes flicked open。
'Keep snoring but get ready to move；' I whispered into his ear。
Aemos struggled up； snorting out fake snores as he collected up his robe and cane。
I had stripped down to my vest。 My jacket and motion tracker were on the floor at the foot of the cot。 There was no time to reach for
them。
Someone kicked the door in。 The bright blue lances of two laser sights stabbed into the rec…room； and a tight burst of stubber fire blew
holes in my vacated cot and puffed padding fibres up from the wounds in the mattress。
Medea and I returned fire； bracketing the doorway with about a dozen shots between us。 Two dark shapes toppled backwards。
Someone screamed in pain。
A flurry of gunfire from ground level outside slammed up in through the windows； blowing one of them right out of its mounting in a
shower of glascite。 Ruined slat…blinds rippled and jiggled with the impacts。
'Back！' I cried； firing twice at a shape in the doorway。 A triple pulse of answering las…fire scorched past my head。
But light flooded in behind us as a rear door crashed open。 Medea swung around； lithe and long…limbed； and broke in the face of the
first intruder with a high kick that sent him reeling back。
Figures charged in from the doors before and behind us。 I shot two； but then was carried over onto my back by two more who
struggled frantically to rip the laspistol out of my hand。 I kneed one in the groin and shot him through the neck as he coiled away。
The other one had his hands on my throat。
I speared my mind right into his and triggered a massive cerebral haemorrhage that burst his eyeballs and sent him slack。
The smell of blood and cordite and the miners' unwashed bodies was intense。 Medea danced back； and delivered a forearm slam to the
face of another assassin that made him stumble and gasp。
She flexed and delivered a spin…kick which hit him so hard he smashed back out of the window。
Another was coming at her from behind。 I saw a knife blade flash in the gloom。
Aemos； slow but steady； swung round and broke the knife…man's neck with a single punch。 Another thing too easy to underestimate
about my old savant was the inhuman strength his augmetic exo…chassis provided。
There was a little more wild gunfire； and then the spitting sound of Medea's Glavian pistol。
I curved my back and sprang back onto my feet in time to gun down a man with a shotgun who was coming in through the door。
Silence。 Drifting smoke。
Voices were shouting below on the plaza。
'Grab your things！' I ordered。 'We're going right now！'
HALF…DRESSED AND lugging the rest of our kit； we scrambled down the back stairs。 The body of one miner shot by Medea lay
crumpled on the steps under the first landing。 The front of his Ortog Promethium overalls was soaked with blood。
There was a livid birthmark on the side of his awkwardly twisted neck。
'Look familiar？' asked Aemos。
It did。
'Didn't that creep Bandelbi have a birthmark too？' Medea asked。
'Most certainly；' I replied。
WE BROKE OUR way through a series of cluttered storerooms and came out in an access alley behind the shops adjoining the welfare。 A
ginger…haired miner posted as rearguard for the ambush turned in surprise as we emerged； his hands fumbling with the shotgun slung
over his shoulder on a leather strap。
Drop it and come here！ I said； using my will。
He tossed the weapon down and trotted over to us； his eyes glazed and confused。
Show me your neck！ I willed again。
He brushed up his tousled hair with one hand and tugged his worksuit's neckline down with the other。 The birthmark was there；
centred on his nape。
'We haven't got time for this！' Aemos said。 Running fo