‘Rack wanted to see what was in it, though. Meant going down further than anyone else. We made four trips in, and each time we reached a deeper set of vaults. On the fourth . . . well, we found somethin’. More than a league and a quarter down. Rooms. Lots of rooms. And a different kind of loot than any of us had seen before. Stuff I ain’t heard of before or since.’

‘Such as?’ I asked.

‘Nasty stuff. Gold boxes. Like cases of treasure, except engraved with skulls and bones, done like corpses with the meat comin’ off them. Crouching lions, with fizzogs half gone. All grinny and sockety. Monkey faces, too. Put the deep shivers in us all. Something about those boxes said keep away. Got worse, the closer you got to ’em. But Rack had the spur in him then. Had to know what was in those boxes. So he cranked one open. Cove was shaking just to be that near, but credit to ’im, he did it. Wasn’t no lock on it or anything, just a hinge. And inside . . .’

‘What?’

‘Ghostie stuff,’ Prozor said. ‘More of it than you or me or anyone else has ever seen in one place. And there wasn’t just that one box. There were dozens of ’em. We opened a few, when we could stomach it. Wasn’t easy.’

‘Ghostie stuff?’ I said.

‘The Ghosties go back a long way. First or Second Occupation, maybe earlier. They were people . . . maybe. But not like us. They did things we can’t do or even think of doin’. Wrong things. Things against the common laws of nature. Mostly they didn’t leave much behind, just a shivery reputation. Some coves say the whole reason for baubles is to keep Ghostie stuff from spilling back out into the worlds again, except now the baubles ain’t doing such a peachy job of it. You ever seen Ghostie stuff, Fura?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Queer thing is you don’t really see it. Ghostie stuff’s sly. When you stare at it right on, it ain’t there. You only catch a glimpse of it side on, when you’re not trying.’

‘Is there Ghostie stuff on the ship?’

‘Jusquerel wouldn’t touch it if there was. It’s powerful. Useful, sometimes. Weapons and armour we can’t even dream of now. Some coves’ll take a chance on it. But it ain’t to be trusted.’

‘But you brought some of it back.’

‘No. Wasn’t time. Rack thought there was, but the auguries was off. We were still down in those vaults when the field started thickenin’ up again. Whatever fear that Ghostie stuff put into us, it was nothin’ compared to the fear of being locked in a bauble.’

‘But you had time,’ I said. ‘To get out. Even if you didn’t have time to bring out the loot, you could still save yourselves.’