The bright lights of the Ground Floor Restoration Division usually comforted Galathea. Today, the laboratory felt subtly off.
She examined a centuries-old ceramic vessel when an assistant hurried over with a preservation solvent. One glance-- and one sharp whiff-- told her the formula was wrong. The acetone concentration would strip the artifact's protective glaze.
Before she could finish inspecting it, another employee reported that three artifact crates had been delivered to the wrong loading dock, forcing the team to haul them across the building by hand.
Minutes later, the climate-control system briefly malfunctioned, sending the humidity monitors into alarm before correcting themselves. Then an express courier arrived hours ahead of schedule, explaining the automated routing system had mistakenly flagged his routine delivery as urgent.
None of the incidents were serious.
Together, however, they felt strangely deliberate.
