I have no ship and my charter has been revoked by the planetary governor, pending inquiries into my financial situation.'

'I will rephrase that. I require a specific ship and a specific captain. I require you and your ship.'

'That might be difficult.'

'I understand that money can always change things here.'

'With enough money, anything can be arranged.'

'I have enough of your money.'

Janus laughed, not quite sure whether he was dealing with somebody who was either very naive or very clever. 'I am glad we are in the privacy field. It would not do to be saying such things too loudly in a place like this. There are some here who might start to think about ways of parting you from it.'

'Then I too am glad you were courteous enough to respect our privacy.'

'How much are you prepared to pay? I must warn you that there are some… administrative difficulties that must be overcome before my ship is allowed into free space again.'

'Whatever difficulties there are, I am sure they can be overcome.'

'Talk is cheap.'

The stranger shrugged, a peculiarly boneless gesture, and extended a black gauntleted hand. The fingers flickered open and Janus caught sight of something glittering there that almost took his breath away.

'Dreamstones,' he whispered. If those were real, they were worth a fortune. Perhaps enough to buy a new ship if he could not get the Star out from under embargo. 'May I see one?'

The stranger pushed one of the things into Janus's hand, in such a manner that it was hidden from sight. Janus felt a strange tingling when it touched his flesh. Ghostly fingers flickered up and down his spine. He seemed to hear the echoes of strange distant music in his head. Once, long ago in a far different place, he had touched a dream-stone. It had been the prize of his patron's famous collection, and it had felt just like this one. No doubt this was real, unless he was under some sort of a spell. There were collectors out there who would pay a rich man's ransom for this; sorcerers who would pay more. He started to slip it into his pocket, but the stranger gestured and without thinking, without any voluntary control over his own muscles, he returned it.

'I must come highly recommended.'

'You have the highest recommendation,' said the stranger. Janus could have sworn there was amusement in his voice.

'Who?'

'My own.'

Janus wondered whether to challenge the statement but decided against it. If this was a maniac, he was an extremely rich one, and he might as well listen to the man's proposition.

'What do you need a ship for?'

'To take me into the Eye of Terror. To Belial IV.'

Janus looked at the stranger. It was not every day you met a madman who sounded so lucid. 'You're insane,' he said.

'Be that as it may, it is where I want to go, and you will take me.'

'You think so?' Janus could think of no place in the universe he would rather avoid than the Eye of Terror. It was a place avoided by all the ships of the Imperium and any sane person, a massive turbulent cluster of lost star systems, cut off from the realms of humanity by awesome warp storms, inhabited by the most degenerate of all the worshippers of the Dark Gods of Chaos. A place mapped on all the old star charts with the legend: Abandon hope all ye who enter here. Before Typhon he might have considered the stranger's proposition. With the voices troubling him, and the visions haunting him, he would just as soon cut off his arm than go there.

'I know so,' said the stranger. 'I have seen it.'

'You're not doing anything more to convince me of your sanity.'

'Our destinies are intertwined, Janus Darke. Our life paths meet at this moment, as they were doomed to since the dawn of time. I will go to Belial and you will take me.