The men shared a glance, arranged in Hale’s office such as they were. A few more aides were present in the background of the meeting - the rest of the Committee were no longer present. These aides quickly explained the significance of this new figure, though it wasn’t necessary; they all already knew to a certain extent.

“Clean up these comms.” Hale snapped in private to them, before responding.

“Hello. I don't understand your meaning - could you elaborate?”

[hr]
The Institute doctors took Freyr to a specially outfitted room aboard the Barbarossa. It was darkened inside, with banks of interfaces throwing up faint blue light onto the ceiling. She could faintly make out a large hexagonal pod with the top slightly ajar. Steps led up to the opening.

“Please change into the clothing provided behind that screen.” One of them gestured; Freyr’s implants outlined the hand to make it clearer. She swallowed the rising tide of bile in her throat. “What is the meaning of all this?”

“We’ve developed some new methods of testing for psychological damage caused by contact with the Cradle.”

“I’d like a chaperone.”

“Very well, we’ll call your legal representative. Please go and change.”