“Hang in there,” Auger told him on the suit-to-suit. “They’re breaking through. We’ll be home and dry any moment now.”

The crackle and static accompanying the boy’s response made him seem a million light-years away. “I don’t feel too good, miss.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Headache.”

“Just stay still. Those suit seals will do their job if you don’t move.”

Auger stepped back as rescue crawlers from the Antiquities Board emerged from above, forcing ice aside with piston-driven claws and picks.

“That you, Auger?” came a voice in her helmet.

“Of course it’s me. What took you so long? Thought you guys were never coming.”

“We came as fast as we could.” She recognised the voice of Mancuso, one of the recovery people she had dealt with in the past. “Had trouble getting a fix on you this far down. The clouds seemed to be having some kind of argument tonight, lots of electromagnetic crap to see through. What exactly were you doing this deep?”

“My job,” she said tersely.

“The kid hurt?”

“His suit took a hit.” On her own faceplate monitor she could still see the diagnostic summary for Sebastian’s suit, hatched with pulsing red hazard indicators near the right elbow joint. “But it’s nothing serious. I told him to lie down and keep still until rescue arrived.”

The lead crawler was already disgorging two members of the rescue squad, clad in the faintly comical suits of the extreme-hazards section. They moved like sumo warriors, in squatting strides.

Auger moved to Sebastian, kneeling down next to him. “They’re here. All you have to do is keep still and you’ll be safe and sound.”

Sebastian made an unintelligible gurgle in reply. Auger raised a hand, signalling the nearer of the two suits to approach her. “This is the boy, Mancuso. I think you should deal with him first.”