'Captain, I could give someone a bad name just by standing next to them.’

That made Loken smile. He was beginning to like the man.

'I've spoken with the Warmaster's equerry about you, Karkasy.’ Loken said. There is a potential for probation here. If a senior Astartes, such as myself, vouches for you, then you could stay with the expedition.’

There'd be conditions?' Karkasy asked.

'Of course there would, but first of all I have to hear you tell me that you want to stay.’

'I want to stay. Great Terra, captain, I made a mistake, but I want to stay. .1 want to be part of this.’

Loken nodded. 'Mersadie says you should. The equerry, too, has a soft spot for you. I think Mal-oghurst likes an underdog.’

'Sir, never has a dog been so much under.’

'Here are the conditions.’ Loken said. 'Stick to them, or I will withdraw my sponsorship of you entirely, and you'll be spending a cold forty months lugging your arse back to Terra. First, you reform your habits.’

'I will, sir. Absolutely.’

'Second, you report to me every three days, my duties permitting, and copy me with everything you write. Everything, do you understand? Work intended for publication and idle scribbles. Nothing goes past me. You will show me your soul on a regular basis.’

'I promise, captain, though I warn you it's an ugly, cross-eyed, crook-backed, club-footed soul.’

'I've seen ugly.’ Loken assured him. The third condition. A question, really. Do you lie?'

'No, sir, I don't.’

This is what I've heard. You tell the truth, unvarnished and unretouched. You are judged a scoundrel for this. You say things others dare not.’

Karkasy shrugged - with a groan brought about by sore shoulders. 'I'm confused, captain. Is saying yes to that going to spoil my chances?'

'Answer anyway.’

'Captain Loken, I always, always tell the truth as I see it, though it gets me beaten to a pulp in army bars. And, with my heart, I denounce those who lie or deliberately blur the whole truth.’

Loken nodded. 'What did you say, remembrancer? What did you say that provoked honest troopers so far they took their fists to you?'

Karkasy cleared his throat and winced. 'I said... I said the Imperium would not endure. I said that nothing lasts forever, no matter how surely it has been built. I said that we will be fighting forever, just to keep ourselves alive.’

Loken did not reply.

Karkasy rose to his feet. Was that the right answer, sir?'

'Are there any right answers, sir?' Loken replied. 'I know this... a warrior-officer of the Imperial Fists said much the same thing to me not long ago. He didn't use the same words, but the meaning was identical. He was not sent home.’ Loken laughed to himself. 'Actually, as I think of it now, he was, but not for that reason.’

Loken looked across the cell at Karkasy.

The third condition, then. I will vouch for you, and stand in recognisance for you. In return, you must continue to tell the truth.’

'Really? Are you sure about that?'

Truth is all we have, Karkasy. Truth is what separates us from the xenos-breeds and the traitors. How will history judge us fairly if it doesn't have the truth to read? I was told that was what the remembrancer order was for. You keep telling the truth, ugly and unpalatable as it might be, and I'll keep sponsoring you.’

* Ф *

FOLLOWING HIS STRANGE and disconcerting conversation with Kyril Sindermann in the archives, Loken walked along to the gallery chamber in the flagship's midships where the remembrancers had taken to gathering.

As usual, Karkasy was waiting for him under the high arch of the chamber's entrance. It was their regular, agreed meeting place. From the broad chamber beyond the arch floated sounds of laughter, conversation and music. Figures, mostly remembrancers, but also some crew personnel and military aides, busded in and out through the archway, many in noisy, chattering groups.

The gallery chamber, one of many aboard the massive flagship designed for large assembly meetings, addresses and military ceremonies, had been given over to the remembrancers' use once it had been recognised that they could not be dissuaded from social gathering and conviviality. It was most undignified and undisciplined, as if a small carnival had been permitted to pitch in the austere halls of the grand warship. All across the Imperium, warships were making similar accommodations as they adjusted to the uncomfortable novelty of carrying large communities of artists and free-thinkers with them. By their very nature, the remembrancers could not be regimented or controlled the way the military complements of the ship could. They had an unquenchable desire to meet and debate and carouse. By giving them a space for their own use, the masters of the expedition could at least ring-fence their boisterous activities.

The chamber had become known as the Retreat, and it had acquired a grubby reputation. Loken had no wish to go inside, and always arranged to meet Karkasy at the entrance. It felt so odd to hear unrestrained laughter and jaunty music in the solemn depths of the Vengeful Spirit.

Karkasy nodded respectfully as the captain approached him. Seven weeks of voyage time had seen

his injuries heal well, and the bruises on his flesh were all but gone. He presented Loken with a printed sheaf of his latest work. Other remembrancers, passing by in little social cliques, eyed the Astartes captain with curiosity and surprise.

'My most recent work.’ Karkasy said. 'As agreed.'

Thank you. I'll see you here in three days.'

There's something else, captain.’ Karkasy said, and handed Loken a data-slate. He thumbed it to life. Picts appeared on the screen, beautifully composed picts of him and Tenth Company, assembling for embarkation. The banner. The files. Here he was swearing his oath of moment to Targost and Sedirae. The Mournival.

'Euphrati asked me to give you this.’ Karkasy said.

Where is she?' Loken asked.

'I don't know, captain.’ Karkasy said. 'No one's seen her about much. She has become reclusive since...'

'Since?'

The Whisperheads.’

'What has she told you about that?'

'Nothing, sir. She says there's nothing to tell. She says the first captain told her there was nothing to tell.’

'She's right about that. These are fine images. Thank you, Ignace. Thank Keeler for me. I will treasure these.’

Kakasy bowed and began to walk back into the Retreat.

'Karkasy?'

'Sir?'

'Look after Keeler, please. For me. You and Oliton. Make sure she's not alone too often.’

'Yes, captain. I will.’

Six WEEKS INTO the voyage, while Loken was drilling his new recruits, Aximand came to him.

'The Chronicles of UrshV he muttered, noticing the volume Loken had left open beside the training mat.

'It pleases me.’ Loken replied.

'I enjoyed it as a child.’ Aximand replied. Vulgar, though.’

'I think that's why I like it.’ Loken replied. 'What can I do for you?'

'I wanted to speak to you.’ Aximand said, 'on a private matter.’

Loken frowned. Aximand opened his hand and revealed a silver lodge medal.

'I WOULD LIKE you to give this a fair hearing,' Aximand said, once they had withdrawn to the privacy of Loken's arming chamber. 'As a favour to me.’

Той know how I feel about lodge activities?'

'It's been made known to me. I admire your purity, but there's no hidden malice in the lodge. You have my word, and I hope, by now, that's worth something.’

'It is. Who told you of my interest?'

'I can't say. Garviel, there is a lodge meeting tonight, and I would like you to attend it as my guest. We would like to embrace you to our fraternity.’

'I'm not sure I want to be embraced.’

Aximand nodded his head. 'I understand. There would be no duress. Come, attend, see for yourself and decide for yourself. If you don't like what you find, then you're free to leave and disassociate yourself.’