An alert via the Hyperion’s ground link manifested as a tickling sensation in the back of Dakota’s throat.

She’d been floating in the silence and dark of her own ship for the better part of an hour, the Piri Reis’s effigy-form having since disappeared once more back into its wall-niche. Her mind at first had been full of thoughts of revenge, but these had given way in the end to icy determination.

Their treatment of her, she realized, was partly because they were afraid of her. It was good that they were afraid of her.

After a while, she sank into a kind of Ghost-induced machine meditation, a near-vegetative state, her consciousness set adrift and only peripherally aware of the constant flow of maintenance routines keeping the Hyperion running.

As she half-dreamed, images slipped by her mind’s eye, mostly incomprehensible. She recalled the brief moment of connection she’d felt with whatever lived deep inside the derelict’s stacks. Even her Ghost was struggling to assimilate or make sense of that intense, overwhelming flood of sensory data. But understanding was nevertheless coming, albeit slowly.

She came to full awareness as the alert signal became more urgent, demanding her attention. She kept her conscious mind at one remove while her Ghost handled the situation, working at machine-speed in a familiar, occasionally disturbing anticipation of her own thoughts and actions.

Something significant was happening on board the derelict: the energy output from its systems was growing exponentially. It was, Dakota realized with awe, channelling through its hull bursts of energy so vast they might more typically be associated with solar flares.

It became rapidly clear that any contact with the personnel on the derelict had been lost. Dakota hesitated for long seconds. Arbenz was likely already aware of the situation developing, but if he wasn’t, he would punish her for failing to pass on what her machine-senses were now telling her.

What, exactly, to do?

A moment later that decision was out of her hands. Automated systems were already spreading the alert to the surface base, as well as to the Agartha.

‹There are very unusual graviton fluctuations taking place beneath the ice,› Piri Alpha informed her, emanating from within the derelict…›

She next became aware that orbit-to-ground drop-ships were being powered up on board the Agartha, for the Hyperion’s sister ship had a full complement of crew. Dakota pulled up a live feed displaying the subsurface ridge on which the derelict rested. Nothing there appeared out of the ordinary. It looked as peaceful, as quiet, and as dead as it had when she had first set eyes on it.

But something was in there. She didn’t know if it was something alive, but it was certainly aware of her. Even from orbit, she could sense it, like some ancient beast padding just beyond the reach of a campfire’s light.

Even from this far, she knew it wanted something from her. Just what, precisely, she couldn’t yet begin to guess.

‹Dakota, I am picking up encrypted communiquйs from the Agartha. An initial scan of their contents post-decryption suggests they may be important. Would you like to see them?›

Please, Piri.

The wall framing the entrance had now become a ceiling, putting any chance of escape far out of their reach. The interface chair stuck out from what had been the floor, but had now become a wall. Kieran and Corso stood next to each other, panting heavily: only a few seconds had passed since the gravity had flipped.

Corso could feel it beginning to shift again. His stomach churned with nausea as his senses grappled to cope with these sudden shifts. Now, the surface under them-until very recently itself a wall-slowly tilted towards the far corner.

Corso scrabbled at the wall underfoot, but it was hopeless. The material from which the derelict was constructed offered little purchase.

Random pieces of equipment began to slide at first slowly, then faster, into a far corner. The entrance still remained resolutely out of reach far above.

Corso became aware of a low hum, slowly building in pitch and volume, which rapidly became a bone-rattling vibration. A tiny part of his mind that remained calm speculated that they’d set off some kind of alarm.

The second flip, when it came, was as sudden and unexpected as the first. The wall on which they crouched suddenly became the top of a hollow cube, with the entrance to their right, but still far out of reach.

They fell, dropping like stones from one side of the room to the other.

Corso hit hard enough to stun him, but Kieran had less luck. He collided heavily with the interface chair, before tumbling on down to land next to Corso like a broken doll.

The entrance was still out of reach above their heads. Corso tried desperately to think of some way to get to it…

Things were emerging out of the walls, floor and ceiling, whose pale surfaces had begun to swirl. It was as if they had become transparent enough to reveal a liquid in different shades of cream flowing and ebbing beneath.

Then the surface of the wall furthest above them began to warp, extruding long, curving spines that began to weave like time-lapse films of plants growing. These and other, unidentifiable, shapes, that Corso couldn’t help but interpret as malevolent.

Kieran coughed and shifted groggily, and then his eyes flickered open. He put a hand to his chest and winced.

‘The next time the room starts shifting,’ Corso told him, ‘do exactly what I say.’

‘What do you mean?’ Kieran stared at him.

‘The first time the room flipped, it dropped us into that corner,’ Corso said, pointing upwards. ‘Then into this corner. It’s too early to really guess if there’s a pattern to the way it flips, but there’s a chance, if it happens again, it’ll land us this time on the same wall as the entrance.’

They didn’t have to wait long to find out.

The intervening seconds passed in silence amid an awful, growing tension. The surface on which they lay then began to ripple gently, and Corso choked back his urge to scream when he felt something tendril-like brush against the inside of his thigh.

Then their tools and equipment once again began to slip away…

The world tipped again, but in the direction Corso had hoped. As they tumbled downwards, Corso aimed himself towards the entrance, knowing the opening would remain out of reach, a few metres above them, if he didn’t make it -