The swarm of glittering crystal platforms moving around the Spire of Secrets is, I’m told, infinitely beautiful. I’ve got no time to appreciate it, though. The keepers at gate 90 are on strike and 36 is jammed; we’re running up a backlog of retrievals. The load I’ve got are mostly in the mid-levels, so I grab the labels and start pulling out the packages from their individual safes.

Request 290XA, a large one. Probably piled-up hurt. 290PL is juicy, an affair; probably worth watching when that gets laid out. 291HR, though, is the one I’m most curious about. The attached label says XX-900, so I wave it at the platform and it obligingly descends down to the base of the Spire. Here only keepers of at least the tenth degree can enter, and the glittering of the crystal vaults that make up the walls of the Spire can seem almost muted.

Here lie the deepest, most dangerous secrets. I nod at two guards by the main door, who heave it open and follow me inside, weapons ready. Secrets have broken out of vaults before.