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boot。
I managed to tug my shotgun from the scabbard on my back and shoot it through the torso at point black range。 Viscous tissues and
filmy flesh scattered in all directions and the thing flopped over。 By the time I had prized its jaws off my boot with my knife； the
carrion…eaters had begun to swarm over it and feed。
WE MOVED OFF again； down a gour…lined spur and into a cavern breathtak…ingly encrusted with glass…silk and billions of cavepearls。
'There's been fighting down here；' I told Aemos and Medea； raising my voice to be heard over the re…cycling cabin air as we pumped
the last of the coarse Cinchare gas…soup out。
'Who's fighting who？'
I shrugged； and sat back to tug one of the predator's broken fangs out of my boot leather。
'Well；' said Aemos； 'You'll be interested to know that the cavern with the wreck in it matched one of the spectroscope traces from the
Mechanicus transmissions exactly。'
'How long ago？'
'About two weeks。'
'So… Bure could have been the one who did the shooting。'
'Bure… or whoever's sending transmissions back to the annex。'
'But why would he take out a prospector pod？' I wondered aloud。
'Rather depends on what the prospector pod was trying to do to him；' said Medea。
Aemos raised his tufty eyebrows。 'Most perturbatory。'
ANOTHER THREE HOURS； another two kilometres down。 It was damn hot； and the air outside was thick with venting steams and gases。
Fumaroles； some large； some in scabby clusters； belched black smoke into the caves； riddling some areas like honeycomb。 Several
caverns and domepits were home to luminous acidic lakes； where the geothermals steadily simmered the water。 Gorges and the
occasional pitch showed flares of red light from lava rivers and asthenospheric cauldrons of molten rock。
We no longer had to rely on the lamps。 The cave systems were lit by streams of glowing magma； flaming lakes of pitch and
promethium and thick； sticky curtains and rafts of bio…luminescent fungi that thrived in the heated ducts。 The pod's air…scrubbers were
no longer able to remove the scent of sulphur from the cabin air； and the cooling system was inadequate。 We were all sweating； and so
were the interior walls of the cabin。 Condensation dribbled down the bare metal of the hull's inner skin。
'Dead stop； please；' Aemos said。
Medea cut the thrusters and let us coast slowly over a seething lake of lava that radiated a glare of almost neon brilliance from beneath
its blackened crust。
Aemos checked the chart against the spectroscope readings that the min…eralogicae assayer was sending to a small repeater screen in
the cabin bay。
'This is it。 The source location for the last transmission。'
'You're sure？' I asked。
He gave me a withering look。 'Of course。'
'Swing us around； slowly；' I told Medea。 We craned to look out of the pod's front ports； playing the lamp array up and down to make
sense of the stark shadows in the cavern walls。
'What are those？ Tube tunnels？'
'Auspex says they pinch out in a few hundred metres。 God…Emperor； it looks pretty primordial out there！' Medea wiped a trickle of
perspiration out of her eyes。
'What's that the lights are catching there？'
'Aemos peered to where I was pointing。 Amygdules；' he said。 'Cavities filled with quartzes or other secondary minerals。'
'Okay；' said Medea； unscrewing the stopper of a water…flask。 'Seeing as how you know everything… what's that？'
'Well； I… most perturbatory。'
It was a hole； perfectly circular； thirty metres in diameter； cut into the far rock wall。
'Edge closer；' I said。 'That's not a natural formation。 It's too… precise。'
'What the hell made a hole like that？' Medea murmured； nudging us in。
'An industrial mining drill could—'
'This far down？ This far from any mine infrastructure？' I cut Aemos short。 'Look at this place。 Only sealed units like this pod can
function at this depth。'
'Barely；' Medea commented； ominously。 She was keeping a weather eye on the hull…integrity read…out。 Amber runes were twitching on
and off。
'It's deep；' I said。 I looked at the display for the forward scanners。 'Goes off as far as we can read and maintains its shape and size。'
'But it's cut sheer through igneous rock… through the side of a forty kilometre square batholyth！ That's solid anthragate！' There was a
note of confusion in Aemos's frail old voice。
'I've got tremors；' said Medea suddenly。 The needles on the rolling seismograph had been scratching away for a good hour or more；
such was the background instability this deep down。 But now they were skritching back and forth wildly。
'There's a pattern to them；' Aemos said。 'That's not tectonic。 That's too regular… mechanical almost。'
I paused for a moment； considering our options。 'Take us into the shaft；' I said。
Medea looked at me； as if she was hoping she'd misheard me。
'Let's go。'
THE CUT SHAFT was so perfectly circular it was scary。 As we sped down； we could see that the inner surface of the tube was fused like
flowstone； with radiating patterns of furrows scooped into it。
'This was plasma…cut；' said Aemos。 'And whatever cut it； left an impression of its motivators in the rock before it cooled and hardened。'
The tube snaked occasionally； whilst maintaining its form。 The bends were long and slow； but Medea took them cautiously。 The
seismograph was still jiggling。
I took out a holoquill and wrote a phrase down on the back of a chart…pad。
'Can you convert this into simple machine code？' I asked Aemos。
He looked at it。 'Hmmm… 〃Vade elquum alatoratha semptus〃… you have a good memory。'
'Can you do it？'
'Of course。'
'What is that？' asked Medea。 'Some kind of sorcery？'
'No；' I smiled as Aemos got to work。 'It's like Glossia。 A private language； one that hasn't been used in a long time。'
'There；' said Aemos。
'Punch it into the vox…ponder and set it to continuous repeat；' I said。
'I hope this works；' said Aemos。 'I hope you're right。'
'So do I；' I said。
Instrumentation pinged。 'We're approaching the end of the bore…hole！' Medea called。 'Another kilometre； and then we're out into a huge
cavity！'
'Get that signal going！' I urged my elderly savant。
WE WERE ON it almost before we were ready。 A massive tube of machined metal； thirty metres in diameter and seventy long； with a
huge plasma cutting…screw at the front end and rows of claw…like impellers that cycled down its flanks like the active teeth of a
gigantic chainsword。 It had cut its way from the tube and was grumbling across the clastic silt of the chamber floor away from us；
pumping thick clouds of vapourised rock and steam out behind it。
'Emperor protect me！ It's huge！' Aemos exclaimed。
'What in the name of the Golden Throne is that？' gasped Medea。
'Slow down！ Slow down！' I cried； but she was already braking us back behind the leviathan。
'Oh crap！' said Medea。 Recessed hardpoints along the giant's flank had swivelled and opened； and multi…laser batteries had popped out
to target us。
I grabbed the vox…set's hand…mic。
'Vade elquum alatoratha semptus！' I yelled into the mic。 'Vade elquum alatoratha semptus！'
The weapons … which could have obliterated us in a single salvo … did not fire。 They remained trained on us； however。 Then heavy
shutter doors on the back end of the enormous machine opened slowly； revealing a small； well…lit hangar space。
'We won't get another invitation！' I told Medea。
With a worried shrug； she steered us inside。
I LED THE pair of them out of the pod into the arched dock…bay。 The shutters had locked shut behind us； and pungent sulphurous fog
pooled around our feet as it was pulled out of the bay by chugging air processors。
The bay was of a grand design； fluted with brass fittings and brushed steel。 There was a brand new prospector pod； painted oxide…red；
in the docking cradle next to the one that had received our singed specimen。 Three other cradles； new and black with oil； lay vacant。
All the light came from phosphorescent gas filaments in caged glass hoods around the room； and the effect was a flickering； lambent
glow。 An iron screwstair with padded leather rails led up to a boarding platform above us。
'That's a good sign；' I said。 The bas…relief roundel of the Adeptus Mechanicus was visible above the inner door lock on the platform。
We all started as lon