‘I burn things,’ Darke had replied. Then she’d looked away from him, and that had been that.

Then there was Aylen Marjuk, whom Radimir had pegged immediately as a stone-cold killer. Former Astra Militarum, he’d either seen something during his service that his commanding officers hadn’t realised he’d seen, or had come to enlightenment at some point after his discharge or, more likely, desertion. He watched everyone, always had one hand on the military-issue laspistol he kept holstered on his left hip, and radiated the sort of passionate belief that Radimir thoroughly approved of. Aylen Marjuk wanted the Imperium to die, even if he wasn’t forthcoming about exactly why. He also stuck close by the shoulder of Sulaman Eichner, and was possibly one reason why the apparently amiable senior archivist hadn’t endured a serious challenge to his position.

Finally, to Radimir’s complete lack of surprise, there was Emerson Tobias.

Tobias looked even worse than on his wanted poster. Hair that had once been artfully unkempt was now an unwashed mop; cheeks that had been smooth had become gaunt; eyes that had been shadowed had become sunken. He was a killer as well, Radimir could practically smell it on him, but Tobias was a self-aggrandising blowhard. Had Radimir been a gambling man, he’d have wagered good money that Tobias had fallen in with the Children of the Serpent simply because he had nowhere else to go. He didn’t have the spine for what was coming.

‘What do you need from us?’ Eichner asked respectfully, when Radimir had taken his measure of the room. They were gathered in the halls of a generator chamber. It was apparently where Svet lived, on the basis – according to Eichner – that the only people who ever came in to clean or maintain it were his three brothers.

‘I need access to the logs at the space port,’ Radimir said. ‘Specifically, I need to know the movements of Navigators from House Brobantis. Which ships they are assigned to, when they are scheduled to arrive and depart. The space port will have that information because the security forces need it. I also need it.’

‘Why?’

It was Emerson Tobias, predictably. He sneered as Radimir looked over at him, displaying a set of even white teeth that had remarkably escaped the decline visible on the rest of his face.

‘What sort of glory can come from that?’ Tobias demanded. ‘Sulaman said you were here to reward us for our loyalty. I think you’re here to use us to pursue a personal grudge.’

‘Do not confuse your lack of comprehension for my lack of purpose,’ Radimir told him coldly. ‘Your reward will come, if you prove true. If I were to try to explain the details of my purpose to you, your brain would ooze out of your ears.’

Tobias stood, with a dramatic flourish of his coat sleeves. ‘I’ve killed seventeen men and women, stranger. Seventeen! All for the glory of the Great Powers! You?’