The squadron of dropships docked with the first wheel, coming to rest in a large low-gravity reception bay filled with ships and equipment. With a prickle of disquiet, Auger noticed that one of the parked spacecraft was a Slasher vessel. It was ostentatiously sleek: long and lean like a fast-swimming squid, with something of the same translucent elegance. Mechanisms and markings twinkled through the cobalt-blue lustre of its outer hull. Surrounded by the robust but clumsy artefacts of her own government, the Slasher craft looked insultingly futuristic. Which, in a way, it was.

Auger couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason for her unease. It was unusual to see a Slasher ship in Tanglewood, especially with the heightened tension of recent months. But it did still happen now and then, and whenever there were diplomatic exchanges it was generally more efficient to use Slasher transport.

But in Antiquities? That, she had to admit, was a little unusual.

She pushed the unease from her mind, concentrating on the matter at hand. While various aggressive sterilisation procedures took place—the ships scrubbed for any latent traces of Parisian contamination—Auger scoured the rescue crawler until she found a pen and a pad of standard-issue Antiquities reporting paper and set about writing her statement regarding what had happened underground. As always, it was necessary to strike a balance between a cavalier disregard for the rules and a professional understanding that some rules were more flexible than others.

She had pretty much finished the report by the time the sterilisation procedures were completed. An airlock bridge was attached to the rescue craft and the lights around the outer door flicked to green, signalling that it was safe to disembark. The recovery crew were the first out, anxious to get off-shift to trade drinks and tall tales with their comrades.