‘Almost immediate command,’ replied Gobleka. ‘Gods, that speaks to considerable preconditioning. Just as I suspected, he wasn’t just suitable, he was ripe. He’s been one of us for a very long time. A heretic long before the ordos declared him such.’

The agony hit Eisenhorn. He shook, and his body stiffened into a savage rictus, his back arched, his wrists pulling uselessly at the chain of the cuffs.

He did not stop speaking.

Something lit inside him. A harsh radiance began to swell, spearing out from his core. Within seconds, he was shining like a lamp, a figure made of light not flesh, his old black clothes a vague silhouette in the glare.

There was a thump and a series of rattling clanks. A chattering sound, a chirring, a cackling, ticking hum. The gears of the Loom around them began to turn. The cogs began to spin.

The Loom roared back to life.

Twenty-Five

TWENTY-FIVE

Chaopterae Metalepta

They had stopped to let Voriet rest again when the Great Machine resumed function. The sudden clattering roar and movement made them all flinch.

‘If this has restarted…’ Voriet began.

‘…the animations might restart too,’ finished Drusher.

Nayl nodded. He checked the autorifle he’d taken from Blayg’s corpse and took out his Tronsvasse.

‘Which do you want?’ he asked Macks.

‘You got clips for both?’ she replied.

He nodded.

Macks pointed to the combat rifle, and Nayl handed it over.

‘Don’t I get a gun?’ asked Drusher.

Nayl and Macks looked at him.

‘We’ve only got two,’ said Nayl.

‘It was sort of a joke,’ said Drusher. ‘I’m tired.’

‘We’re all tired,’ Nayl agreed. ‘One last push. One last ascent. I think we can make it up to the gantry and get to the tower exit. Just a bit of a climb left.’

He looked at Voriet. The interrogator, deathly pale, nodded affirmatively.

‘We may have to fight our way past the Cognitae,’ said Nayl.

Macks was putting the last of the spare clips in her jacket pockets.

‘I don’t have any problems with that,’ she said.

‘Or rescue Eisenhorn,’ said Drusher.

‘If he’s alive,’ said Macks. Drusher could hear the doubt in her voice.

‘Well, let’s do it like we mean it,’ said Nayl.

‘That’s odd,’ said Drusher. They looked at him.

He was peering at an insect that was crawling along the platform’s metal handrail. It was small, less than two centimetres long, a locustform specimen.

‘I haven’t seen any insects in here,’ said Drusher.

‘So?’ asked Macks.

‘I’m just saying,’ said Drusher. He picked the insect up and let it scurry over his hands, examining it.

‘Chaopterae metalepta,’ he said. ‘Short horned plains-hopper. Family Acrididae. Not native.’

‘To where?’ asked Macks sourly.

‘To Gershom,’ said Drusher. ‘And from what I saw out of the window, not here either.’

‘What window?’ asked Voriet, slowly getting to his feet.

‘Just a window,’ replied Drusher.