Wallace heard Nirann clanking over as they were navigating through the tight knots of chatting locals now inhabiting her office. “Of course. Let's get inside.”

Once they were all standing on the transparent floor (or was it a wall?) of the ship, its consistency changed to suck just their party quickly inside. After a moment, the sounds of the concert faded, they were deposited back into the antechamber from which they’d entered Wallace’s office in the first place.

Skopec, left trapped there for an hour or more, came over. He was quiet now, but when he saw Freyr’s condition he gave Wallace a look of pure contempt. “Get her to the med bay, and plot a course back to their safehouse.” The Plenipotentiary commanded her servants, ignoring the Institute officer. “Hardly safe now. Everyone in this fucking city saw you. Didn’t they? Where the hell did you go?” Skopec snarled.

The dance floor which had appeared out of the lake for this impromptu 21st century post-hardcore gig disappeared as quickly as it arrived. Soundlessly, it sank beneath the lapping waves, leaving concert-goers to flounder aimlessly around in the oxygen-rich water.
[hr]
They arrived back at the top of their high tower to discover a much larger delegation of Institute personnel waiting for them. This time they had a high ranking government official with a formal grounding notice for Wallace. They detained the whole crew, despite the Plenipotentiary’s strongest protestations, and moved them off the ship and into an empty office area.

A few hours later, early in the morning, a state of emergency was declared in Réunion and multiple other large cities across Outremer. A no-fly zone was enacted for all civilian craft and military checkpoints sprung up to control the flow of people entering and leaving key areas.