Tila slowed as she approached the library floor. There didn't seem to be anyone following her, but she wanted to be sure.

She paused on the thick carpet of the final flight of stairs and listened. Sound moved differently in this environment, here it was all wood and fabric. She was used to the hard, hollow ringing sounds of the Juggernaut. That was a world of iron and steel, synthetic insulation and ceramic alloys. Everything on this planet, in this city, and in this house, was wrong. Even the gravity was a little off. But all three of them had made the adjustment without so much as a thought. It some ways it was close enough to home to be unremarkable.

But all her other senses complained about the unfamiliar. From the smell of the air, the sight of distant horizons, the taste of the water (although that, at least, was an improvement) and the feel of the ground beneath her feet, everything was wrong. It was wrong because it had been too long since she had walked under an open sky and moved through cities and streets and houses like this.

It would take time to get used to, so she had to take more care.

Still, no footsteps followed her up the stairs. No feet trod into the rich pile. But ahead of her, near the library, there was something she could hear.

Tila took the last few metres on her hands and knees, suddenly grateful for the carpet now that she was the one using it to mask her approach, and lifted her eyes above the landing.

Two agents walked down the hall away from her, toward the library. They stopped by a door. One reached for the handle while the other raised her pistol. She nodded, the door was flung open and she rushed in. Her companion followed at once.