Rovi walked through the dim corridor toward the exit.
The sky outside had already grown dark.
The magnificent Hive Spire pierced the clouds, its red warning lights flashing.
In the distance, several enormous Imperial Transports hovered in orbit, like silent beasts waiting to feed.
The cold wind carried acid rain that stung Rovi's face.
He wrapped his thin robe tighter around himself.
The first step was done.
He was still alive.
As long as he was alive, he still had a chance.
Rovi felt the two pieces of Corpse Starch in his pocket, rewards as hard as stone.
He didn't return to the dormitory. Instead, he turned and headed for the Archives.
If he wanted to climb the ranks in the Ministry of Agriculture, he needed to learn more.
About the soil, the climate, Fertilizer, and every other detail about this planet.
He wouldn't sleep tonight.
Rovi pushed open the heavy door to the Archives and disappeared into the darkness.
At the same time.
At the top of the Spire in the Planetary Governor's Mansion.
A woman stood before a brightly lit floor-to-ceiling window.
She wore silver Power Armor and no helmet.
Her long silver hair spilled over her shoulder plates like a waterfall, and her violet eyes reflected the starry sky outside.
Alicia van Valantius.
She held a glass of wine in her hand but didn't drink.
"Have we gathered the Imperial Tithe?" she asked.
A Tech-Priest in red robes emerged from the shadows behind her.
Half his face was metal, and his voice emitter crackled with static.
"According to the data just uploaded by the Executive Council, the Granary Seven accounts are balanced."
"Balanced?" Alicia turned around and raised an eyebrow. "That idiot Kais managed to balance the books? Wasn't he always trying to force me to use the Family Reserves?"
"The data is logically sound, though somewhat creative," the Tech-Priest added. "For example, the large number of Machine Spirit Appeasement Fees."
Alicia gave a cold laugh.
"He really thinks I'm a fool. But as long as the tax official can't find fault with it, I can't be bothered to care."
She set down her glass and walked over to the Holographic Map.
The map showed the planet's various regions, most of them glowing red to indicate danger.
"Find out who did the books," Alicia said.
"They were signed by Supervisor Kase. According to the handwriting analysis and operation logs, the actual operator was a Rank Four Scribe."
"Name?"
"Rovi. Three years on the job, an unremarkable record. He collapsed from overwork three days ago."
"Rovi..."
Alicia repeated the name.
"Keep an eye on him," she said. "In this rotten Executive Council, anyone who can balance the books is either a great villain or a true talent."
"Yes, Governor."
The Tech-Priest withdrew.
Alicia turned back to the window.
A shooting star crossed the night sky.
"Emperor, protect us."
She whispered, her hand resting on the Boltgun at her waist.
"I hope this time I can find a few useful people."
"My time... is running out."
The Archives smelled of dust.
Rovi closed the two-hundredth copy of History of Soil Composition Changes.
The flame of an Electronic Candlestick flickered, then went out.
The energy allocation period was over.
Darkness instantly swallowed the rows of Data Cabinets.
Rovi didn't get up.
He sat in the darkness with his eyes closed, going over the data he had just memorized.
In Year M37, Fertility II had suffered an outbreak of "Withering Fever."
Records from the time showed that, in an effort to contain the fungus, the Adeptus Mechanicus had dispersed a highly concentrated Sulfide through the atmosphere.
The Sulfide would remain behind.
The residue reacted with modern high-efficiency Fertilizer, causing the soil to compact.
Rovi opened his eyes.
He'd found it.
This was the second safeguard he'd devised for the two hundred and seventy thousand tons of "losses."
If his "religious ceremony" excuse was questioned, he would bring up this "Historical Soil Compaction Issue."
This was science.
In Warhammer 40,000, it was theology, too.
A bell rang outside.
Morning Prayer was beginning.
Rovi stood up, his knees cracking sharply.
He returned the book to its place with a light touch, careful not to disturb the Servitor Skull resting in the corner.
He left the Archives and went to the public washroom to splash cold water on his face.
The face in the mirror was deathly pale, with dark circles under the eyes.
Today, judgment would come.
Granary Seven, Landing Platform Three.
The howling wind hurled grit against the Power Armor, where it crackled like gunfire.
Supervisor Kase stood at the front.
He had changed into a new robe, with a gleaming Loyalty Medal pinned to the collar.
Yet he was trembling all over.
Sweat streamed down his fat face, soaking a large patch of his collar.
Rovi stood half a step behind him, holding a thick ledger in both hands.
"Rovi." Kase's voice wavered in the wind. "You're sure there's no problem? That Religious Expenditure category will really work?"
"It'll work, sir," Rovi replied in a low voice. "The tax official doesn't care where the money went. He only cares whether the procedures were followed."
"What if he asks for details..."
"I'll answer. You only need to nod and sign."
A roar sounded from the sky.
The clouds split open.
A gray-black shuttle plunged down like a hammer.
Its landing gear slammed into the platform, and the blast of hot air nearly knocked Kase off his feet.
The hatch opened.
Two Armored Servitors stepped out first.
They held Boltguns in their hands, their red electronic eyes sweeping across the entire platform.
Then came a tall, thin man in gray robes.
He wore no Respirator Mask.
Half his head was made up of metal implants.
A Multispectral Lens served as his left eye, while his right was a cloudy human eye.
His right hand had been converted into a Mechanical Claw, with several Data Probes attached to it.
Marquez, Ministry of the Interior Tax Official and High Scribe.
Kase forced an ugly smile and hurried forward to greet him.
"Praise the Emperor! Lord Marquez, the Seventh Agricultural Zone of Fertility II welcomes your—"
Marquez didn't look at him.
His mechanical left eye rotated with a crackling whir, scanning the Granary's outer wall, the farm laborers kneeling on the ground, and finally Kase.
"Skip the pleasantries. My schedule is tight. I have four more planets to audit."
Kase froze.
With a trembling hand, he pointed behind him.
Rovi stepped forward and held out the ledger in both hands.
"Sir."
Marquez extended his Mechanical Claw.
The probes pierced the ledger's binding, as if tasting the paper.
Then he took the book and opened it.
He turned the pages at an astonishing speed.
Flip, flip.
He wasn't reading. He was scanning.
Rovi kept his head bowed and counted his heartbeats.
One hundred and twenty.
One hundred and thirty.
Suddenly, the pages stopped turning.
Marquez's finger halted on page fourteen.
"Explain."
His metallic voice showed no hint of emotion.
Kase's legs gave way, and he nearly fell to his knees.
He opened his mouth but couldn't make a sound, then instinctively looked at Rovi.
Rovi raised his head and looked at Marquez's flashing red eye.
"This was a necessary expense to appease Harvester Spirit Three, sir," Rovi said.
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