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subsector's　trader　markets　had　crashed。　Trade　was　bad。　What　a　year。　Saint　Drache　was　martyred　on　Korynth。　Billions　starved　in　the
Beznos　famine。'
'I　have　access　to　history　texts；　Pontius；'　I　said　dryly
'I　was　on　Quenthus　VIII；　buying　fighters　for　my　pit…games。　They're　a　good　breed；　the　Quenthi；　long　in　the　hams　and　quite　belligerent。　I
was；　perhaps；　twenty…five。　I　forget　exactly。　I　was　in　my　prime；　beautiful。'
There　was　a　long　silence　while　he　considered　this　reflection。　Light…sparks　pulsed　along　his　wires。
'One　of　the　pit…marshals　at　the　amphitheatre　I　was　visiting　advised　me　to　see　a　fighter　who　had　been　bought　in　from　the　very　edges　of
the　Ultima　Segmentum。　A　great；　tanned　fellow　from　a　feral　world　called　Borea。　His　name　was　Aaa；　which　meant；　in　his　tongue；
〃sword…cuts…meat…for…women…prizes〃。　Isn't　that　lovely？　If　I　had　ever　sired　a　son；　a　human　one；　I　mean；　I　would　have　called　him　Aaa。
Aaa　Glaw。　Quite　a　ring　to　it；　eh？'
'I'm　still　on　the　verge　of　leaving；　Glaw。'
The　voice　from　the　casket　chuckled。　'This　Aaa　was　a　piece　of　work。　His　teeth　were　filed　into　points　and　his　fingertips　had　been　bound
and　treated　with　traditional　unguents　since　his　birth　so　that　they　had　grown　into　claws。　Claws；　Eisenhorn！　Fused；　calcified　hooks　of
keratin　and　callouses。　I　once　saw　him　rip　through　chainmail　with　them。　Anyway；　he　was　a　true　find。　They　kept　him　shackled
permanently。　The　pit…marshal　told　me　that　he'd　torn　a　fellow　prisoner's　arm　off　during　transit；　and　scalped　a　careless　stadium　guard。
With　his　teeth。'
'Charming。'
'I　bought　him；　of　course。　I　think　he　liked　me。　He　had　no　real　language；　naturally；　and　his　table　manners！　He　slept　in　his　own　soil　and
rutted　like　a　canine。'
'No　wonder　he　liked　you。'
The　frost　crackled　around　the　casket。　'Cruel　boy。　I　am　a　cultured　man。　Ha。　I　was　a　cultured　man。　Now　I　am　an　erudite　and　dangerous
box。　But　don't　forget　my　learning　and　upbringing；　Eisenhorn。　You'd　be　amazed　how　easy　it　is　for　a　well…raised　and　schooled　son　of　the
Imperium　to　slide　across　that　line　I　mentioned。'
'Go　on。　I'm　sure　you　had　a　point　to　make。'
'Aaa　served　me　well。　I　won　several　fortunes　on　his　pit…fights。　I　won't　pretend　we　ever　became　friends…　one　doesn't　become　friends
with　a　favourite　carnodon　now；　does　one？　And　one　certainly　never　makes　friends　with　a　commodity。　But　we　built　an　understanding
over　the　years。　I　would　visit　him　in　his　cell；　unguarded；　and　he　never　touched　me。　He　would　halt　out　old　myths　of　his　home　world；
Borea。　Vicious　tales　of　barbary　and　murder。　But　I'm　getting　ahead　of　myself。　The　moment；　the　moment　was　there　on　Quenthus；　in　the

amphitheatre；　under　the　spring　sun。　The　pit…marshal　showed　me　Aaa；　and　tempted　me　to　purchase　him。　Aaa　looked　at　me；　and　I　think
he　saw　a　kindred　soul…　which　is　probably　why　we　bonded　once　he　was　mine。　In　his　simple；　broken　speech；　he　implored　me　to　buy
him；　telling　me　graphically　what　sport　I　would　have　of　him。　And　to　seal　the　deal；　he　offered　me　his　tore。'
'His　tore？'
'That's　right。　The　slaves　were　allowed　to　keep　certain　familiar　items　provided　they　weren't　potential　weapons。　Aaa　wore　a　golden　tore
around　his　neck；　the　mark　of　his　tribe。　It　was　the　most　valuable　thing　he　possessed。　Actually；　it　was　the　only　thing　he　possessed。　But
no　matter…　he　offered　it　to　me　in　return　for　me　becoming　his　master。　I　took　it；　and；　as　I　said；　I　bought　him。'
'And　that　was　the　line？'　I　sat　back；　unimpressed。
'Wait；　wait…　later；　later　that　same　day；　I　examined　the　tore。　It　was　inlaid　with　astonishing　technology。　Borea　might　have　been　a　beastworld
by　then；　but　millennia　back；　it　had　clearly　been　an　advanced　outpost　of　mankind。　It　had　fallen　into　a　feral　dark　age　because
Chaos　had　touched　it；　and　that　tore　was　a　relic　of　the　decline。　Its　forbidden；　forgotten　technology　focussed　the　stuff　of　the　Darkness
into　the　wearer's　mind。　No　wonder　Borea；　where　every　adult　male　wore　one；　was　a　savage　waste。　I　was　intrigued。　I　put　the　tore　on。'
'You　put　it　on？'
'I　was　young　and　reckless；　what　can　I　say？　I　put　it　on。　Within　a　few　hours；　the　tendrils　of　the　warp　had　suffused　my　receptive　mind。
And　do　you　know　what？'
'What？'
'It　was　wonderful！　Liberating！　I　was　alive　to　the　real　universe　at　last！　I　had　crossed　the　line；　and　it　was　bliss。　Suddenly　I　saw
everything　as　it　actually　was；　not　as　the　Ministorum　and　the　rot…hearted　Emperor　wanted　to　see　it。　Engulfing　eternity！　The　fragility　of
the　human　race！　The　glories　of　the　warp！　The　fleeting　treasure　of　flesh！　The　incomparable　sweetness　of　death！　All　of　it！'
'And　you　ceased　to　be　Pontius　Glaw；　the　seventh　son　of　a　respectable　Imperial　House；　and　became　Pontius　Glaw；　the　sadistic　idolator
and　abomination？'
'A　boy's　got　to　have　a　hobby。'
'Thank　you　for　sharing　this　with　me；　Pontius。　It　has　been　revealing。'
'I'm　just　getting　started。
'Goodbye。'
'Eisenhorn！　Eisenhorn；　wait！　Please！　I—'
The　cell　hatches　clanged　shut　after　me。
I　WAITED　TWO　days　before　I　returned　to　see　him。　He　was　sullen　and　moody　this　time。
I　entered　the　cell　and　set　down　the　tray　I　was　carrying。
'Don't　expect　me　to　talk　to　you；'　he　said。
'Why？'
'I　opened　my　soul　to　you　the　other　day　and　you…　walked　out。'
'I'm　back　now。'
'Yes；　you　are。　Closer　to　that　line　yet？'
'You　tell　me。'　I　leaned　over　and　poured　myself　a　large　glass　of　amasec　from　the　decanter　on　the　tray。　I　rocked　the　glass　a　few　times　and
then　took　a　deep　sip。
'Amasec。'
'Yes。'
'Vintage？'
'Fifty　year　old　Gathalamor　vintage；　aged　in　burwood　barrels。'
'Is　it…　good？'
'No。'
'No？'
'It　is　perfect。'
The　casket　sighed。
'You　were　saying。　About　that　line？'　I　asked。
'I…　I　was　saying　I　was　most　annoyed　with　you；'　Pontius　returned；　stubbornly。
'Oh。'　I　casually　slid　a　lho…stick　from　the　paste…board　tub　I　had　backhanded　from　Tasaera　Ungish's　stateroom。　I　lit　it　and　took　a　deep
drag；　exhaling　the　smoke　towards　the　infernal　casket。　Nayl　had　injected　me　with　powerful　anti…intoxicants　and　counter…opiate　drugs
just　half　an　hour　earlier；　but　I　sat　back　and　openly　seemed　to　relish　the　smoke。
'Is　that　a　lho…stick？'
'Yes；　Pontius。'
'Hmmm…'
'You　were　saying？'
'Is　it　good？'
'You　were　saying？'
'I…　I've　told　you　of　my　slip。　My　crossing　of　the　line。　What　else　do　you　want　of　me？'
'The　rest。　You　think　I've　crossed　the　line　too；　don't　you？'
'Yes。　It's　in　your　bearing。　You　seem　like　a　man　who　has　understood　the　wider　significance　of　the　warp。'

'Why　is　that？'
'I　told　you　it　happens　to　all　inquisitors　sooner　or　later。　I　can　imagine　you　as　a　young　man；　stiff　and　puritanical；　in　the　scholam。　It　must
have　seemed　so　simple　to　you　back　then。　The　light　and　the　dark。'
'Not　so　obvious　these　days。'
'Of　course　not。　Because　the　warp　is　in　everything。　It　is　there　even　in　the　most　ordered　things　you　do。　Life　would　be　brittle　and
flavourless　without　it。'
'Like　your　life　is　now？'　I　suggested；　and　took　another　sip。
'Damn　you！'
'According　to　you；　I'm　already　damned。'
'Everyone　is　damned。　Mankind　is　damned。　The　whole　human　species。　Chaos　and　death　are　the　only　real　truths　of　reality。　To　believe
otherwise　is　ignorance。　And　the　Inquisition…　so　proud　and　dutiful　and　full　of　its　own　importance；　so　certain　that　it　is　fighting　against
Chaos…　is　the　most　ignorant　thing　of　all。　Your　daily　work　brings　you　closer　and　closer　to　the　warp；　increases　your　understanding　of
orderless　powers。　Gradually；　without　noticing　it；　even　the　most　puritanical　and　rod…stiff　inquisitor　becomes　seduced。'
'I　don't　agree。'
Pontius's　mood　seemed　to　have　brightened　now　we　were　engaged　in　debate　again。　'The　first　step　is　the　knoust
understand　the　basic　traits　of　Chaos　in　order　to　fight　it。　In　a　few　years；　he　knows　more　about　the　warp　than　most　untutored　cultists。
Then　the　second　step：　the　moment　he　breaks　the　rales　and　allows　some　aspect　of　Chaos　to　survive　or　remain　so　that　he　can　study　it　and
learn　from　it。　I　wouldn't　even　bother　trying　to　deny　that　one；　Eisenhorn。　'I'm　right　here；　aren't　I？'
'You　are。　But　understanding　is　essential。　Even　a　puritan　will　tell　you　that！　Without　it；　the　Inquisition's　struggle　is　hopeless。'
'Don't　get　me　started　on　that；'　he　chuckled。　Then　paused。　'Describe　the　taste　of　that　amasec　in　your　mouth。　The　quality；　the　scent。'
'Why？'
'It　is　three　hundred　years　since　I　have　tasted　anything。　Smelt　anything