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around his neck； the mark of his tribe。 It was the most valuable thing he possessed。 Actually； it was the only thing he possessed。 But
no matter… he offered it to me in return for me becoming his master。 I took it； and； as I said； I bought him。'
'And that was the line？' I sat back； unimpressed。
'Wait； wait… later； later that same day； I examined the tore。 It was inlaid with astonishing technology。 Borea might have been a beastworld
by then； but millennia back； it had clearly been an advanced outpost of mankind。 It had fallen into a feral dark age because
Chaos had touched it； and that tore was a relic of the decline。 Its forbidden； forgotten technology focussed the stuff of the Darkness
into the wearer's mind。 No wonder Borea； where every adult male wore one； was a savage waste。 I was intrigued。 I put the tore on。'
'You put it on？'
'I was young and reckless； what can I say？ I put it on。 Within a few hours； the tendrils of the warp had suffused my receptive mind。
And do you know what？'
'What？'
'It was wonderful！ Liberating！ I was alive to the real universe at last！ I had crossed the line； and it was bliss。 Suddenly I saw
everything as it actually was； not as the Ministorum and the rot…hearted Emperor wanted to see it。 Engulfing eternity！ The fragility of
the human race！ The glories of the warp！ The fleeting treasure of flesh！ The incomparable sweetness of death！ All of it！'
'And you ceased to be Pontius Glaw； the seventh son of a respectable Imperial House； and became Pontius Glaw； the sadistic idolator
and abomination？'
'A boy's got to have a hobby。'
'Thank you for sharing this with me； Pontius。 It has been revealing。'
'I'm just getting started。
'Goodbye。'
'Eisenhorn！ Eisenhorn； wait！ Please！ I—'
The cell hatches clanged shut after me。
I WAITED TWO days before I returned to see him。 He was sullen and moody this time。
I entered the cell and set down the tray I was carrying。
'Don't expect me to talk to you；' he said。
'Why？'
'I opened my soul to you the other day and you… walked out。'
'I'm back now。'
'Yes； you are。 Closer to that line yet？'
'You tell me。' I leaned over and poured myself a large glass of amasec from the decanter on the tray。 I rocked the glass a few times and
then took a deep sip。
'Amasec。'
'Yes。'
'Vintage？'
'Fifty year old Gathalamor vintage； aged in burwood barrels。'
'Is it… good？'
'No。'
'No？'
'It is perfect。'
The casket sighed。
'You were saying。 About that line？' I asked。
'I… I was saying I was most annoyed with you；' Pontius returned； stubbornly。
'Oh。' I casually slid a lho…stick from the paste…board tub I had backhanded from Tasaera Ungish's stateroom。 I lit it and took a deep
drag； exhaling the smoke towards the infernal casket。 Nayl had injected me with powerful anti…intoxicants and counter…opiate drugs
just half an hour earlier； but I sat back and openly seemed to relish the smoke。
'Is that a lho…stick？'
'Yes； Pontius。'
'Hmmm…'
'You were saying？'
'Is it good？'
'You were saying？'
'I… I've told you of my slip。 My crossing of the line。 What else do you want of me？'
'The rest。 You think I've crossed the line too； don't you？'
'Yes。 It's in your bearing。 You seem like a man who has understood the wider significance of the warp。'
'Why is that？'
'I told you it happens to all inquisitors sooner or later。 I can imagine you as a young man； stiff and puritanical； in the scholam。 It must
have seemed so simple to you back then。 The light and the dark。'
'Not so obvious these days。'
'Of course not。 Because the warp is in everything。 It is there even in the most ordered things you do。 Life would be brittle and
flavourless without it。'
'Like your life is now？' I suggested； and took another sip。
'Damn you！'
'According to you； I'm already damned。'
'Everyone is damned。 Mankind is damned。 The whole human species。 Chaos and death are the only real truths of reality。 To believe
otherwise is ignorance。 And the Inquisition… so proud and dutiful and full of its own importance； so certain that it is fighting against
Chaos… is the most ignorant thing of all。 Your daily work brings you closer and closer to the warp； increases your understanding of
orderless powers。 Gradually； without noticing it； even the most puritanical and rod…stiff inquisitor becomes seduced。'
'I don't agree。'
Pontius's mood seemed to have brightened now we were engaged in debate again。 'The first step is the knoust
understand the basic traits of Chaos in order to fight it。 In a few years； he knows more about the warp than most untutored cultists。
Then the second step： the moment he breaks the rales and allows some aspect of Chaos to survive or remain so that he can study it and
learn from it。 I wouldn't even bother trying to deny that one； Eisenhorn。 'I'm right here； aren't I？'
'You are。 But understanding is essential。 Even a puritan will tell you that！ Without it； the Inquisition's struggle is hopeless。'
'Don't get me started on that；' he chuckled。 Then paused。 'Describe the taste of that amasec in your mouth。 The quality； the scent。'
'Why？'
'It is three hundred years since I have tasted anything。 Smelt anything。 Touched anything。'
I had feared my gambit with the amasec and the opiate too obvious； but it had drawn him in。 'It feels like oil on my tongue； soft； bodyheat。
The aroma precedes the taste； like peat and pepper； spiced。 The taste is a burn in the throat that lights a fire behind my heart。'
The casket made a long； mournful sound of tantalised regret。
'The third step？' I prompted。
'The third step… the third step is the line itself。 es a radical。 When he chooses to use Chaos against Chaos。
When he employs the agencies of the warp。 When he asks the heretical for help。'
'I see。'
'I'm sure you do。 So… are you going to ask me to help you？'
'Yes。 Will you give me that help？'
'It depends；' the casket murmured。 'What's in it for me？'
I stubbed out the lho…stick。 'Given what you've just said； I assume your reward would be the satisfaction of seeing me cross that line
and damn myself。'
'Ha ha！ Very clever！ I'm enjoying that part already。 What else？'
I turned the glass in my hand； swilling the amber spirit around。 'Magos Bure is a talented man。 A master of machinery。 Though I
would never release you from imprisonment； I could perhaps ask him for a favour。'
'A favour？' Pontius echoed with trembling anticipation。
'A body for you。 A servitor chassis。 The ability to walk； reach； hold； see。 Perhaps even the finessing extras of sense actuators：
rudimentary touch； smell； taste。 That would be child's play for him。'
'Gods of the warp！' he whispered。
'Well？'
'Ask。 Ask me。 Ask me； Eisenhorn。'
'Let us talk for a while… on the subject of daemonhosts。'
'DO YOU KNOW what you're doing？' Fischig said to me。
'Of course；' I said。 We had taken over the security office in Cinchare minehead as our base。 Bequin and Aemos had set the place
straight and got it running properly； and Medea； Inshabel； Nayl and Fischig patrolled the area regularly。 Bure had provided servitorstalkers
as additional guards； and a vox…uplink had been established with the orbiting Essene to forewarn us of any arriving space
traffic。
It was late one afternoon in the third week of our visit to the mining rock。 I had just returned from my daily visit to Glaw's cell in the
Mechanicus annex and I stood with Fischig by the windows of the office； looking down into the plaza。
'Really sure？' he pressed。
'I seem to remember him asking us the same thing when we sprang him from the Carnificina；' said Bequin； coming over to join us。
'Thanks to Osma and his ridiculous witch…hunt； we've been forced into a corner。 If we can come through this successfully； we will
redeem ourselves。'
Fischig snorted。 'I just don't like it。 Not dealing with that butcher。 Not promising him anything。 I feel like we've crossed the line—'
'What？' I asked sharply。 I had told them only the very sparest details of my conversations。
'I said I felt like we'd crossed the line。 What's the matter？'
I shook my head。 'Nothing。 How are the rest of the preparations going？'
I sensed Fischig wanted to have it out； but it was really too late for that。 I deflected him with the subject change。
'Your magos friend is working。 Nayl took him the blade yesterday and showed him your notes and diagrams；' he said。
'The communiques are all written； encrypted and sealed； ready to be sent；' said Bequin。 'Just give the word； and Ungish will transmit
them。 And I have the declaration here。' She handed me a data…slate。
It was a carta extremis formally declaring Quixos Heretic and Extremis Diabolus； naming his crimes and given in my authority。 It was
dated the twentieth day of the tenth month； 340。M41。 There was no location of issue； but Aemos had made certain all the other
particulars were phrased precisely according to High Imperial Law and the statutes of the Inquisition。
'Good。 We'll send that in a few days。' I knew that the moment the carta was published； my agenda would be known。 The scheme I was
embarking on might take years to complete； and all that time I would be hunted。 I really didn't want to stir things up so soon。
'How much longer will we be here？' Bequin asked。
'I don't know。 Another week？ A month？ Longer？ It depends on how forthcoming Glaw decide