But oh, allow me one more indulgence. Let me imagine what happened the day after, when the Faithful finally had the Messiah delivered to the enemy. This is beyond the scope of my knowledge, I know. This is pure speculation. But in my time with the Messiah they have become dear to me; I have grown so fond of them. And so have you, I imagine. Let me put myself in their shoes as they are woken by the Imperial guards and taken down the shining, twisted silver corridors of the Capital. The Ninth Messiah Misery Nomaki walks without a spring in their step, despite the subgravity; in their heart they wonder what fate they are being led to. Has the Throne decided upon execution? Does a cold metal chair await them at the end of this journey, flanked by the unfeeling faces of doctors? Perhaps they are to be subjected to a lifetime of experimentation, like Sower Cabbage, like others they met on Angelsteeth. Or perhaps they are to be pardoned. They cannot know, and so they keep moving forward as they are wont to do. Here, they are brought to the lower decks of the Capital. Here, they are being led into a hangar where waits for them the strangest ship they have ever seen, an angular, rough-hewn rock with no windows, streaked through with red translucence like ruby. A Heretic ship. The Imperial guards hand custody of the Messiah over to a pair of Heretic guards in their birdskull masks. Misery Nomaki, cuffed in plastic, is brought up the ramp of the ship and into the maw of the first Heretic ship they have ever boarded. It is as dark and sloping and ineffably strange as they have imagined, and it looks just like the glimpse they had of Esse Temple’s ship. The ship, if even possible, seems bigger on the inside, comprising slanted corridors that seem to fold upon themselves. Misery Nomaki is sure they have walked two lengths of the hangar when they finally arrive at the cell that is to be their new home. And there, in the depths of the alien visage that is to be their new normal, they stop, heart hammering, half-bewildered and half-amazed. For in front of them stands the man they were sure they would never see again in the flesh. Jericho Malturin smiles at them, and it is clear he is in charge here. How the tables have turned. In his hand is the amulet Misery Nomaki’s mother found on a distant asteroid in the months before they were born. In the moment before they are shepherded into the cell, in the moment before the red-stone of the ship closes over the hole where a door should be, Jericho Malturin says: “Hello again, Misery. I think this time we should get to know one another properly.”

EPILOGUE