The box returned from Brno unopened.
Nora knew before reading the form, from the way the sealing tape had been laid over the tape used for dispatch. At the Center, Salomé used a matte adhesive that tore into short fibers. This one was smoother, almost glossy, and bore a purple stamp from the Brno Municipal Archives at either end. Between the stamps, someone had written in French with a black marker: **RETURNED WITHOUT CONSULTATION**.
The receiving cart squeaked as she pulled it beneath the lamp.
“Don’t tell me you already recognize the tape,” Salomé said.
“I recognize ours.”
“That’s less worrying.”
“Not really.”
They had arrived early to process three loan returns before the room opened. Two contained copies of commercial registers unrelated to the black notebook. The third was supposed to give them access to a series of administrative duplicates requested before the Nováková crisis: circulation records from 1968 to 1972 that might shed light on how certain terms had been preserved after the individuals were anonymized.
Not S.A.-4 itself. Not Erika. Not a new ancestor of the word.
Just the machinery around it.
Nora had wanted this request precisely because it was boring.
On the return form, Ivana Havel had signed the previous day at 4:41 p.m.
**Consultation suspended pending reassessment of reidentification risks following public circulation of connections identifying individuals by name. Box unopened. Loan canceled.**
A second note below specified that cancellation implied nothing about the contents or the series’ future status.
Nora laid the form beside the box.
“She didn’t even open it to check whether the cards named anyone,” Salomé said.
“If she opens it to check, she’s already consulting a collection they’ve decided to reassess.”
“I know. I’m just observing that our procedures are starting to have procedures.”
End of excerpt. Discover the other stories in this universe.