The whole incident caused some highly vocal distress and outrage for the Oglari, allegedly entirely on behalf of their valued allies and grateful charges, the Uwanui. Apologies for the misunderstanding were dutifully expressed by the Rapid Random Response Unit, its home GSV and other respected Culture worthies, but further favours and indulgences were now owed or at least expected by both the Oglari and the Uwanui.

Apparently, neither Contact nor Special Circumstances was particularly impressed with these developments.

“These things accrue,” Tefwe muttered to herself.

“All on-boarded?” the You Call This Clean? asked.

“I experienced everything the other two experienced, so I suppose so,” she said. “But I got killed, for fuck’s sake.”

“That was the surprise.”

“Thanks. Think I’ll go back to Storage now. Full asleep. No dreams.”

“Certainly.”

“And next time you want to wake me up—”

But the ship had already started putting her under. It strongly suspected that there had been only one more word to come in that sentence of Tefwe’s, and that it would have been the word “don’t”.

Yes, but … plausibly deniable, the ship decided.