Inshabel shrugged. ‘You sent her after Gobleka. You knew he would find out about her. Find out who she was. The family tie, the legacy link. Father and daughter, sworn allies of the old bastard. He wouldn’t be able to resist killing her and using her as bait. Which means he’d show himself. What a cunning way for you to get Goran Gobleka of the Cognitae to give away his location.’

‘It wasn’t like that,’ said Eisenhorn.

‘No, it wasn’t, papa!’ Thea cried.

‘He killed her with an ursid,’ said Nathan, staring straight at Eisenhorn. ‘In a cage. Threw her in alive. Oh, but not before he had tried the antigenic on her, and watched for days as she screamed through the Torment. Another failed test subject. So into the ursid cage with her.’

‘Nathan–’ Eisenhorn began.

‘My child, Gregor, my child. Used as an instrument to advance your obsession. Used and thrown away.’

‘As are we all!’ cried Nayl, toasting. Everyone raised their glasses, and shouted the words.

‘What kind of man uses his friends that way?’ asked Lores Vibben, standing at the edge of the firelight, staring at the flames.

‘No one uses his friends that way, Vibben,’ said Midas.

‘You had a daughter too,’ Vibben said to him.

‘I’m sure she’ll be here any moment,’ said Midas. He took a sip of his drink. ‘Won’t she, Gregor? My sweet little Medea. It can’t be much longer before she joins the party too.’

Eisenhorn turned from the firelight. Its raging heat was still inside him. He walked away from the little camp into the vast blue gloom of the desert night. The moon glared down at him. He heard laughter and voices behind him.

‘Gregor!’ Endor ran to catch up with him. ‘Gregor, where are you going?’

‘I’m not part of that,’ said Eisenhorn.

‘Don’t be daft. You’re the reason it’s happening,’ said Endor.

‘This is the Torment,’ said Eisenhorn. ‘This is the deep-stage corruption of the antigenic, breaking down my mind. Delusion. Collapsing memories. Psychic decay. Annihilation of will.’

‘Hey, we all have bad days,’ said Endor. ‘It’s not your fault, just circumstances.’

‘Titus?’

‘Yes, Gregor?’

‘Old Hapshant…’

‘Him? Throne rest his bones,’ said Endor. He took a swig from the bottle of joiliq he was carrying.

‘Why did he choose us?’ Eisenhorn asked. ‘To be his interrogators, all those years ago?’

‘Because we were the very best!’ Endor exclaimed. He raised his arms and did a little capering jig in a circle around Eisenhorn.

‘Seriously, Titus.’

Endor shrugged.

‘He saw something in us,’ he replied.