‘Good,’ said the bald man, ‘because, you know–’

‘I let a wild thing out, and you were in the way,’ said Drusher to the younger, blond man.

‘Ah, but you knew Voriet was in the way,’ said the bald man, ‘and you knew what would happen.’

‘Yes,’ said Drusher. He hesitated, then looked over at the blond man.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

Voriet shrugged.

‘It’s fine,’ he replied. ‘It was smart thinking, actually.’

‘Yeah,’ growled the bald man. ‘If we’d been a road-mob, you’d have eagled the crap out of us.’

‘What is this about?’ Drusher asked. He was looking directly at Macks, the only person in the room he felt he could consider a friend, and even then, not much of one. ‘Who are these people?’

The blond man got to his feet. With his free hand, he took out a rosette and showed it to Drusher.

‘Interrogator Darra Voriet, Ordo Hereticus,’ he said. ‘These are my associates Medea Betancore and Harlon Nayl.’

Valentin Drusher didn’t hear much beyond the word ‘ordo’. It felt as though a trapdoor had opened under him and plunged him into a world where there would never, ever be enough anxiety meds.

‘We have need of assistance,’ said Nayl, the big bald man. ‘A specific area of technical expertise. You came highly recommended.’

‘By the marshal, I presume?’ asked Drusher, wiping his lips. Macks had produced a hip flask of amasec and let Drusher take a swig to steady his nerves.

‘Yes,’ said Voriet.

‘I don’t do consultations,’ said Drusher.

‘What are you, retired?’ sneered Nayl. ‘Living in your beachfront property, training eagles?’

‘N-no–’

‘I think I just heard you complaining there were piss-all opportunities for employment here on Gershom,’ said Nayl.

‘Does this pay?’ asked Drusher.

‘Yes,’ said Nayl, ‘in the form of deep satisfaction, and pride at having served the Emperor of Mankind and His Inquisition.’

‘I thought so,’ said Drusher.

‘There’s a stipend, and expenses,’ said Voriet.

‘Is there?’

‘Maybe,’ said Nayl. ‘Name a fee. Bear in mind you’re labouring under the false impression that you have any choice in this. The Inquisition needs your help. It’s not a yes/no option.’

Drusher looked across the table at Macks. Panic was beginning to set in.

‘Why did you bring these people here?’ he hissed. ‘What have you got me into? Why are you doing this to me again?’

‘They need a magos biologis, Valentin,’ she said.

‘Well, they can find someone else,’ said Drusher. ‘I’m not going to get dragged into another one of your insane adventures.’

‘Come on, Valentin. Outer Udar was fun. And Tycho City? We went to the zoo.’

‘So you have history?’ asked Medea Betancore.

‘We do,’ said Macks. ‘Which is why I brought you to him.’

‘A history of “insane adventures”?’ said Betancore. ‘In, what was it… Outer Udar and–’

‘It’s possible he was referring to the three years we were married,’ said Macks.