Hardy sat at the head of the conference table, a mug of cooling tea to one side. Jevlak and Ayres occupied the chairs either side and Kincaid stood by the viewport, listening to the Starfleet captain in her engineering uniform on the screen. She had short hair and a contemplative look.

“Odysseus,” she said, her affection tinged with the weariness of someone working hard. “Your message mentioned an ancient semi-sentient Vezda tomb and the urgent need for containment. I assume this isn’t an elaborate joke.”

“I regret to inform you,” Hardy said, “that it’s very real and not at all funny. Captain Chen, allow me to introduce Lieutenant Jevlak, my temporary science officer, Commander Kincaid who led many of the tactical efforts, and Captain Ayres, previously of the Farragut, and our specialist on the cult of the Vezda tomb.”

Chen’s eyes flicked over them, assessing.

“I’ve read your preliminary reports,” she said. “You appear to have found us the archaeological discovery of the century.”

“Unfortunately it’s rather more active than historic. So we’ve wrapped it in a temporary cage,” Hardy said. “Four emitters arranged around the chamber, tuned to establish a inhibitor field around its influence. The reliquaries it was driving have gone dark and the Pilgrims, the people, it was influencing are free again to think their own thoughts, and reconcile their actions.”

Jevlak’s ridges pulled together.

“The field will hold for perhaps another seventy-two hours without further improvisation,” she said. “After that, component fatigue becomes a concern. We can keep it running longer with on-site adjustment, but this was never intended as a permanent solution. We need something built to do this and only this, properly.”

Chen nodded slowly. “What are the tomb’s current capabilities?” she asked. “Assume my people go in and begin tinkering. What can it actually do to them?”

“It can push patterns into receptive minds,” Jevlak said. “Subtle at first. Suggestion, reward, the sense of a presence that thinks with you. Then given time and proximity, it can overwrite large portions of personality. It can also drive a distributed network of smaller fragments to act as sensors and actuators. Fortunately, we have cut those off.”

“And there’s no way to guarantee that destroying it would even be possible,” Chen said mildly. “Aside from the ethics and the wrath of every archaeologist from Earth to the Expanse?”

Hardy spread his hands.

“Quite,” he said. “While we’re fond of ethics on this ship, we’re less fond of creating an uncontrolled spray of Vezda composite across the Expanse. Our preference is to put the entire tomb inside something that will keep it from affecting anyone, ever.”

Chen’s mouth twitched. “You’re asking me,” she said, “to build a coffin around a tomb. Very poetic.”

Jevlak leaned forward.

“A multi-layered shell,” she said. “Metamaterials tuned to scatter the specific subspace frequencies the tomb transmits. Then we anticipate passive dampers backed by active fields, so that even if the power fails temporarily, it remains constrained. Our experience is that the Vezda composite will try to interface with any straightforward technology.”

Chen listened. “We’ve done something similar,” she said slowly, “on a much smaller scale. Containment pods for partially active Iconian artefacts and some further classified contexts. The tomb is larger and more complex, but not entirely outside our experience. The main challenge will be building the shell on-site without compromising the integrity of the temporary restraints.”

Kincaid spoke for the first time.

“Who watches the watchers?” he said, “Captain, any affect is not instantaneous. I’d suggest that a contingent of Starfleet security, on rotation of not more than a few days in system at a time, would be a sufficient safeguard while the work is undertaken.”

Chen gave him a look of professional appreciation.

“I’m sure that Starfleet security will be more than happy to babysit us, thank you for the recommendation, Mr Kincaid,” she said. “Odysseus, I can have the appropriate Corps of Engineers’ ships with you in forty hours. Lieutenant Jevlak, I’ll want your emitters’ specifications immediately, and your latest readings on the tomb’s field strengths, to ensure my ships have the right raw materials.”

“Yes, sir,” Jevlak said. “I will also send you my complete notes on Vezda geometry. They are not restful reading.”

“We’ll cope,” Chen replied. Then she hesitated, adding, more quietly, “There will be pressure, you know. Once news of this gets around. There will be those who want to study it in situ, try to learn something useful.”

Hardy’s eyes cooled.

“There’ll also,” he said, “be a great many reports from this ship and others on what happens to people when they treat it as a helpful tutor. I intend to be very clear in my recommendation: this thing is to be contained, not consulted.”

Ayres’s voice was quiet. “We’ve seen what it does when allowed to sing into the Expanse,” he said. “Freighters were turned into slaughterhouses and an entire colony were enthralled by it. It’s an insiduous evil.”

Chen regarded him for a heartbeat. “I’ll note your views, captain,” she said. “They align, as it happens, with my own. The Corps of Engineers is in the business of safety first.”

She glanced back at Hardy.

“All right,” she said. “Please begin evacuating anyone from the temple who doesn’t absolutely have to be there. When my team arrives, we’ll design an encasement around the tomb. When we are done, the Vezda chamber will be inside a shell nobody can open even if a wayward admiral decides to try something.”

Hardy inclined his head. “That,” he said, “is as much as any reasonable captain could ask.”

“Good,” Chen said. “I’m glad you reached out to me, Odysseus. Look me up when you’re back on Earth. Chen out.”

The screen went dark. For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Kincaid let out a low, thoughtful breath. “We’re going to leave a barrow on the edge of the Expanse. A proper one. Something about which future generations will tell all manner of ghost stories.”

Jevlak’s eyes gleamed. “With any luck,” she said, “they will read the warnings.”

Hardy picked up his mug of tea, grimaced at the temperature, and set it down again. “Thank you, all of you,” he said. “We have, at least, taken out of circulation what seemed to be, for all intents and purposes, a malevolent god. That’s no small thing.”