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It is the 41st millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods, and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truly die. Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor’s will. Vast armies give battle in His name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless Planetary Defence Forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from aliens, heretics, mutants - and worse. To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruellest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods. CHAPTER ONE Gunthar Soreson had never been so scared in his life. He asked himself what his heroes would have done in his place – those muscular, square-jawed warriors whose exploits he followed in the newsreels. Would they have been scared too? Maybe, he thought, but it wouldn’t have held them back. They’d have done what they had to do and faced the consequences, good or bad. He wanted to be brave like them. He told himself he could be. He thrust his hand into his trouser pocket, before he could change his mind again, and his fingers closed around the cold, hard shape of the ring. Arex groaned, ‘Oh no.’ Gunthar started, snatching back his hand as if the ring had shocked him. Had she seen his movement or read his intentions in his face? Had she guessed what Gunthar had been about to ask her, and was this her reaction to it? She had dropped her fork, cupped a hand over her face. She was making herself look small in her seat, trying not to be noticed. In a stage whisper, she directed Gunthar’s gaze: ‘Two tables behind me. To the right. No, my right. That man, the one in blue, with the beard and the bald spot. Is he looking this way?’ Gunthar shook his head. ‘No.’ ‘I think we’ve met. Some reception at the High Spire. He was, I don’t know, a proctor commissioner, something like that. Are you sure he’s not looking at me?’ ‘I’m sure,’ said Gunthar. ‘He’s just eating his meal. It’s dark in here. That’s why I brought you here, for the privacy. I can hardly make out his face. I’m sure he can’t have recognised you, from the back, from a single meeting.’ ‘You’re right. I’m imagining things.’ Arex dared a glance over her shoulder, and her round face softened with relief. ‘Of course it’s not him. What would a man like him be doing somewhere like this?’ Something in Arex’s tone, the derisive emphasis she put on those words, left Gunthar stung. ‘You’re here,’ he pointed out. ‘I’m incognito, remember?’ she said, lifting the fork again, twirling a length of borana root around it. ‘I don’t want to be found – and this is about the last place on Hieronymous Theta anyone would think to look for the Governor’s niece.’ ‘Yes,’ said Gunthar woodenly. ‘I expect you’re right.’ They were right up near the top of one of Hieronymous City’s shorter towers, as high as Gunthar had ever climbed. The skyways outside had been hardly crowded, even at this time of the early evening. He had saved for weeks to afford the bribe that had got him past the doorman of this eatery. It was the first place he had been to that served real meat, not the synthetic stuff. There was room between the tables, and plenty of servitors, attentive to their customers’ every need. Still, it wasn’t enough. Arex was used to better than this, better than Gunthar, even since his promotion, could provide. ‘I’m sorry for being so jumpy,’ she said. ‘It’s just Uncle Hanrik. I can only imagine what he might do if he knew I was here, this far from home.’ ‘I know,’ sighed Gunthar. ‘I know.’ What had he been thinking, making plans, dreaming of a life with her? How could that have worked? They lived in different worlds – and Gunthar would never be welcome in Arex’s world, just as she could never be happy in his. He left the ring in its pocket. He insisted on seeing her home – as near as he could take her, anyway. There was still so much he wanted to say, so many questions to ask her. Why was she here? Was this only a game to her, these regular meetings? A thrilling adventure on the lower floors. Did she ever think about where it might lead? But Gunthar could feel the ring’s dead weight in his pocket, and he was still scared, scared of the answers she might give. They took an autocab towards the gubernatorial sector, but abandoned it a few hab-blocks away before the proctors could show too much interest in them. They talked about Gunthar’s work, and he found himself reeling off statistics, telling Arex about the annual yield in each of his mines until he was sure he was boring her. Not that she showed it. Arex was an expert at feigning interest. She had to be, someone in her position, all those dull official functions she had to attend. He remembered the function at which they had met, the opening of a refinery plant. Arex, backlit by the red glow of a pit of molten metal, laughing politely at something a shift manager had said to her. The twinkle in her green eyes. Her chestnut hair, bobbing on her shoulders. He remembered his first stumbling words to her, how she had just smiled and pretended he was making perfect sense. He remembered stumbling into her on a swaying metal gantry, choking on the hot, dry air, an awkward moment defused by Arex’s good humour and that smile again. Was she only feigning interest in him? They strolled between plasteel and glass towers on an expansive skyway, treading on the white chevrons that marked out the pedestrian lane as grimy, bubble-shaped autocabs hummed by to each side of them. There were fewer skyways up here, but fewer people to walk them too. ‘So,’ said Arex suddenly, ‘you’ve seen no… trouble? In the mines, I mean?’ ‘Trouble?’ echoed Gunthar, instinctively on the alert. ‘No, nothing. Nothing like that. My men work hard, and yields are holding steady. What have you heard?’ ‘Nothing,’ said Arex quickly. ‘I was just… Something my uncle said, that’s all. He was talking to… well, I’m sure it was nothing, like you say. It doesn’t matter.’ They were at a crossway, and Arex drew Gunthar towards a row of lifter cubicles. They found one empty, and stepped inside. Even up here, the lifters stank of human sweat and excrement, the legacies of their journeys below. ‘I shouldn’t…’ Gunthar stammered. ‘If you’re going back up to the High Spire, I should… This is as high as I can really…’ ‘Who said I was going up?’ said Arex. She fingered the rune panel in the wall, and the cubicle door rattled and squealed shut behind them. A moment later, they were descending fast, and Gunthar thought Arex must have entered some private code to prevent the lifter from stopping for more passengers at the intervening levels. ‘I always drop a few floors, this close to home,’ she said. ‘There’s a place I can climb up, not far from the High Spire, where no one ever looks. It’s easier than trying to get past the proctor patrols and the pictcasters up above.’ ‘We’re dropping more than a few floors,’ said Gunthar nervously. ‘Don’t be such a worrier,’ said Arex. ‘I thought you were born down here.’ ‘Not this far down,’ squawked Gunthar, but she didn’t seem to hear him. Her eyes were shining with excitement. This was an adventure for her. Gunthar was relieved when the lifter brought them to a jarring halt and a mechanical voice informed them that, should they wish to proceed further, they would need a high-level encryption key to return to this floor. ‘You shouldn’t listen to what they say,’ said Arex as the door rattled open and she and Gunthar emerged onto a teeming skyway far darker and dirtier than the one above. ‘It’s not so bad down here, once you get used to it.

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