Prozor met my eyes. ‘Most of us.’

‘A surface can snap back like an eyelid, quicker than a blink,’ Triglav said. ‘That happens, there’s no chance of getting out. But it can be slower too. In this case, they had about an hour to get off the world.’ He glanced at the other man. ‘You feel like chipping in, oh loose-tongued one, don’t hold back.’

‘No,’ Hirtshal said.

Prozor sank more beer. ‘Fang was always a difficult bauble to crack. Half the reason Rack’s never returned to it, even though he’s the only captain knows what’s really down there, and what it might be worth.’

‘Tell them the other half of the reason,’ Triglav said.

‘I made Rack promise we’d never go back. He wants to, I know. Cove’s got unfinished business there. But he can leave it unfinished while I’m on the crew. I ain’t reading the patterns for him on that one, not after what it did to us the first time.’

‘What was so bad?’ I asked.

‘Everything. Wasn’t a staircase on it like this one, just a shaft. Maybe there were stairs once, but they got worn away, and all that’s left are the walls of that shaft. Straight down, all the way to the swallower. Cap’n rigged up a winch, braced it off the top of the shaft. Now, a winch is a nice thing, but you can’t always use one. Bulky, for a start, and if you’ve got doors to get through before you hit the shaft – like they have here – then a winch is just too big to carry with you. But the Fang was easier, with the shaft open to space, so all we had to do was slide the winch in over the top and get it anchored good and solid. Had a bucket on it, so we could go up and down, and bring back the loot. But there wasn’t room in that bucket for more than one of us at a time. When word came in that the bauble was closing ahead of schedule . . .’ Prozor gave a little shivery shake of her head, as if the horror of that experience were coming back anew.

‘And the rest,’ Triglav said.

‘Six of us had to go back up that shaft. Cap’n insisted on being the last one out. I went up on the first trip – that was Rack’s order. He needed to save his Opener. I was golden.’ She paused, swallowed hard. ‘But there was a disagreement. Githlow was supposed to come up next.’

‘Tell them who Githlow was.’

‘My husband,’ Prozor said.

‘Githlow was an Assessor,’ Triglav said. ‘Damned good, too. Even Trysil’ll tell you that, and getting praise of out Trysil’s like trying to warm your toes by starlight.’

Hirtshal lowered his puzzle. ‘Githlow. Good man.’