Davinch turned and ran for the fallen gun. Nayl pounced and brought him down hard on the deck. They grappled. Nayl had mass on his side, but Davinch was quick with his legs. He hooked his right leg and flipped Nayl off him. Nayl got up, only to take another glancing kick to the face. He stumbled sideways.

Davinch bounced his rangy body onto its feet. Like a dancer, he threw a high spin-kick that hit Nayl in the chest and staggered him backwards. Davinch reversed his spin and threw another kick from the opposite direction. Nayl barely blocked it.

Davinch stayed on his toes. He spun around with another kick, almost in pirouette.

Nayl blundered backwards.

Try that shit again, he thought.

Davinch tilted his balance slightly and whirled into another spin-kick.

Nayl caught him squarely by the kicking ankle.

He locked it, twisted his grip and threw with full force. Utterly overbalanced, Davinch sailed backwards with a scream and went over the rail.

Somehow, he held on. White-knuckled, legs swinging, he clung to the cross struts of the handrail and began to haul himself back onto the platform.

He was half over the rail when he saw Nayl facing him, aiming the fallen laspistol.

‘This one isn’t out,’ said Nayl.

He put four las-bolts through Davinch’s head and torso.

Davinch swung backwards, stiffly, like a falling drawbridge, and plunged into the darkness.

Gobleka dragged Macks to her feet. He’d slung his autorifle across his back and drawn Eisenhorn’s Scipio. He pulled her against him, his arm around her throat, and put the muzzle of the pistol against her head.

‘How many more?’ he asked.

‘Go screw yourself,’ she replied. He tightened his grip and made her choke.

‘Let’s walk,’ he said, shoving her along. A shield was useful. ‘You’ve got a friend up here. A bald guy. He’ll be pleased to see you.’

His dry laugh died away.

Ahead of them, an animation was stepping off the connecting staircase and turning to walk along the control deck towards them. It was Blayg. Green light shimmered around his dead flesh. Two more followed it, Cronyl and a halting, slower skeleton.

Gobleka froze.

‘I’m a friend!’ he yelled. ‘Back away!’

They kept coming.

‘Back away!’ Gobleka ordered. He shouted an un-word order of command that stung at Macks’ ear.

The animations did not falter.

Gobleka switched aim from Macks’ head to Blayg. He fired, and the shot dropped Blayg in his tracks.

Macks seized the moment as soon as the gun moved away from her head. She elbowed hard into Gobleka’s gut then lashed out, clamping the top of Gobleka’s right wrist with her left hand and driving her right hand up into his tricep. The force almost bent his elbow the wrong way. Gobleka shrieked, the Scipio flying out of his hand.