Wei Jian shut the file, shaking his head. “All done then?”

“Contained and secure.” The man opposite him responded. He was clean cut, dressed in a black suit befitting his position, a scarlet coloured tie and blue cuff-links which had the image of a crescent moon on them… or possibly a fancy C. He carried an air of authority which sat uneasy when it ought to have been Wei Jian with the power.

“And their families?”

“Notified,” the suited man answered. “Standard Terraforming story.”

Jian signed, “This is standard?”

“The less they know, the better.”

Jian shook his head. “So, we just bury it?”

“Already is buried,” the man answered. “The drones blew the thing, caved the tunnel. It’s filled in, done.”

“I don’t understand how you can be so cold, Eight men died, although there’s no mention of any bodies.” Jian said. “Your men.”

“They knew the risks,” the man answered plainly.

“Did they?” Jian asked. “So their loss is acceptable?”

“In cases like this, anyone is expendable, so long as it serves the greater good.”

“And this does?” Jian said. He couldn’t believe this was his life now, his role.

“This is an important world,” the suit said. “For the Alliance and their goals… their ultimate reach, and here you are at the centre of it, looking after it. A position like yours will be highly sought after.”

Jian felt a veiled threat in there but didn’t push it.

“You’re doing a good job,” the man said. “With respect, I’d take this as a win.”

Jian struggled to come to terms with it. “The whole point of this thing was to rectify the issues in that district, to stop the whole world from being labelled a black rock.”

“It’s a minor mark on a clean sheet, of no account. Business will carry on. Alliance ships will continue to be built. You’ll make your money.”

Jian tried to ignore that last part. He didn’t like the insinuation but he had no energy to argue. “And what if more problems show up in future?”

“What? Toxic fumes? The company will install air purifiers. Gravity issues, they’ll tie stuff down. Maybe just section off that area. Call it a nature reserve.”

“If anything grows,” Jian said.

“Call it an ancient Indian graveyard if you like, that’s what worked back in the day, right?”

“Sure, and have kids sneak in on a dare.”

“If they get hurt, it only proves the point that people should stay out.”

Jian shook his head. Boros was supposed to be his world. It had been bestowed upon him, and now he got the impression he’d been given a clock.

“You requested my services to fix the situation,” the suited intermediary said. “It’s fixed.”

Jian sighed. “So be it.”

“Besides, I have other clients to see.”

Other clients, Jian pondered. He wondered if they too would be asking for sacrificial lambs.

The suit got up to leave.

“Just one more thing,” Jian said. “The images received. The structure down there. Who built it?”

The businessman was already gathering his coat and suitcase before choosing to volunteer an answer. “Maybe the first settlers.”

Jian gave a look of disbelief.

“Do you even care?” the man asked.

“I wouldn’t have asked,” Jian answered.

The man shook his head. “It’s not impossible that this world was once inhabited by someone else. Probably long gone since before we ever set off from Earth-that-was. Maybe even predate mankind. Who knows.”

“Shouldn’t that sort of thing be preserved?”

“For what? To have everyone question their place in the universe? What good would come of that?” The man gestured at the file on Jian’s desk. “We write the history now. This is our time.”

The man departed and Wei Jian was left to stare at the file on his desk, the only official record of what had happened.

He opened up the middle drawer of his desk and pulled out the shredder. Placing the file in the shredding case, he switched it on and heard the hum of the paperwork disintegrating.

Thousands of miles away, the ground of the sectioned-off district shifted, as a flume of fog puffed out of the soil and drifted into the sky above.