Freyr chuckled humorlessly with Vreta, looking surreptitiously around her. There was no sign of Agent 595; Freyr supposed she was packing her things. Dr Lang then fixed Vreta with a steely stare. 

“Lets just say i have a bad feeling about this. I need to return to my division headquarters in New Antioch, where we have the best possible view of any changes to the Cradle macrocosm. There [i]is[/i] a risk of disentanglement if this new object decides to try and escape with it, but we’re completely powerless on the outside. I can use more people I trust on the inside. People with...nerve.”

Freyr didn’t quite know how to word the Rothian’s surprisingly competent handling of stressful situations. It was certainly something she could use more of - her hand still shook from their descent down the side of that mountain. She supposed 595 was right that he must be some kind of secret agent; at least that might mean the two of them would cancel each other out.

The Barbarossa pulled up slowly alongside a geo-sync docking station and they latched together. Only the slightest vibration registered in the lab. “Ladies and gentlemen, we need to go! Freyr, Dr Khatri packed your bag and sent it on. You were never going to do it anyway.” Dr Wetherall called from across the lab, slipping his coat on.