Cuddling Olive with a pouty face belying endearment of her looking out for him, he remains seated with her, but tosses an egg-shaped device out unto the table. The egg unfurls into a multi-limbed mini-drone bristling with a miniaturized array of field-science tools, then treads back up to the edge of the table, right before Ramesh and Riggs.
To the mini-drone;%“ahem…”% “Go n’ take a look around, semple the cores of any timber used in the buildings, and record everything, including what I just said, then return back.” Turns to Olive. “…radiocarbon dates. It’ll be one more part of the affidavit backing these folks’s claim. Every bit of evidence helps.”