'I thought you might.'
If you answer helpfully, I can cut you a deal.'
What sort of deal?'
'I can take you to Gudrun. Give you a chance to make a new start. Or I can offer you employment, if you're interested.'
She smiled quizzically. It was the first positive expression I had seen on her. It made her more beautiful, but I didn't like her any better.
'Employment? You'd employ me? An inquisitor would employ me?'
'That's right. Certain services I think you can provide/
She took two fluid steps over to me and placed her hands flat against my chest. 'I see/ she said. 'Even big bad inquisitors have needs, huh? That's fine/
'You misunderstand/ I replied, pushing her back as politely as I could. Physical contact with her made the unnatural feeling of revulsion even
stronger. 'The services I have in mind will be new to you. Not the sort of work you are accustomed to. Are you still interested?'
She set her head on one side and considered me. You're an odd one, all right. Are all inquisitors like you?'
'No/
I ordered the servitor, Modo, to provide her with refreshment and left her in the crew-bay. Betancore was stood in the shadows outside the door, gazing in at her appreciatively.
'She's a fine sight/ he murmured to me as if I might not have noticed.
You forget Vibben so quickly?'
He snapped round at me, stung. 'That was low, Eisenhorn. I was just commenting/
You'll like her less when you get to know her. She's an untouchable/
'Seriously?'
'Seriously. A psychic blank. It's natural, and I haven't tested her limits. It's all I can do to be in the same room as her/
'Such a looker too/ Betancore sighed, gazing back in at her.
'Useful to us. If she passes certain requirements, I'm going to employ her/
He nodded. Untouchables were rare, and almost impossible to create artificially. They have a negative presence in the warp that renders them virtually immune to psychic powers, which in turn makes them potent anti-psyker weapons. The side-effect of their psychic blankness is the unpleasant disturbance that accompanies them, the waves of fear and revulsion they trigger in those they meet.
No wonder her life had been difficult and friendless.
'News?' I asked Betancore.
'Made contact with a sprint trader called the Essene. Master's one Tobius Maxilla. Deals in small units of luxury goods. Coming here in two days to deliver a consignment of vintage wines from Hesperus, then on to Gudrun. For a fee, he'll make room for the cutter in his hold/
'Good work. So we'll be on Gudrun when?'
Two weeks/
I spent the next hour or so interviewing Bequin, but as I suspected she knew precious little about any of the men. We gave her accommodation in a small bunk-cell next to Betancore's quarters. It was scarcely more than a box, and Nilquit had to remove piles of stowed equipment to clear it, but she seemed pleased enough. When I asked her if she had any possessions she wished to collect from the Sun-dome, she simply shook her head.