Some of Garstand’s previous bonhomie returned. ‘Then you’re a member of select group. They do not show themselves often, you know. There’s not so many of them. They prefer the dead or those whose minds they have turned to do their work for them.’

‘I have seen that too. The walking dead. But after a time on Espandor, the plague lords came more frequently. Small groups at first, then in greater numbers. The last time there were twenty or more. I thought they would kill us all, but when they got into the trench, they… well, they disappeared.’

Garstand nodded along with Varens’ words in agreement. How could he know? Varens felt a stab of annoyance at him.

‘The same happened to us. There were only seven of them. They attacked, they slew, then they vanished.’ His eyes widened. In the lumen light spilling out from inside, Varens saw the whites had an unhealthy yellow cast.

‘Just like on Espandor,’ Varens said uneasily.

‘Were there any Adeptus Astartes near your unit? Space Marines?’

‘None.’

‘The same!’ said Garstand. ‘And I met another man, Rusen, with a similar story. He was on Efor. He said the plague lords came at his position, and they fought, and just before they killed everyone in his building, they just disappeared. Why do you think they did that?’

‘What?’ said Varens. Thinking about it made his head spin. He wanted to be left alone, but Garstand was oblivious to his quickening breath and shaking limbs.

‘Why did they come in such small numbers. Why did they vanish? Did you kill any?’

‘Several,’ said Varens. ‘I think. I don’t know.’

‘There’s something to it, don’t you think?’

‘A soldier sees coincidences in everything,’ said Varens. ‘Death makes us suspicious.’

Garstand pointed to the Great Rift, his beard bristling. ‘There are no such things as coincidences. Do you want to meet him? I think it would be a good idea. We could compare our experiences. There’s something going on here. How can the plague lords raise the dead so easily? Sorcery, Varens, sorcery! And it is everywhere.’

Garstand looked conspiratorially about.

‘Up there,’ he said, pointing at the Great Rift without looking at it. ‘All through Ultramar,’ he added, waving his hand vaguely at the sky. ‘And here.’ He slapped his hand on the balcony’s balustrade. ‘Rusen’s got a theory. Darkness on many worlds. Things slithering through the warp. This is no war of ships and men, though they make it look that way. He knows! They can, he says… They can get in your head. That they can use us somehow.’ Garstand went pale at the thought, his gaze distant and eyes furtive. ‘Come and meet him.’

Varens felt light-headed, like he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. Garstand wasn’t making any sense. ‘Meet who?’ he said quietly.