The first version of the recorder heard a delivery truck better than it heard the gate.
Juno watched its line leap as the truck crossed the patched road outside the workshop. The local technician put a hand on the bench, felt the vibration and looked at her without saying what she already knew.
“That mounting point is useless,” she said.
“For the question you’re asking.”
“For the question I’m asking.”
He removed the clamp from the bench and turned the site plan toward her. Beyond the immediate gate zone, a service wall stood on older foundations separated from the loading road. It was not free of vibration, but it offered a stable fixing and a place for the reference instrument. The harbor authority could permit access from the public side without reopening the suspended scan station.
Juno drew the proposed arrangement over her discarded one. Two locations, two records, a handling log that would let them distinguish installation from observation. No outgoing scanning signal. The device’s diagnostic routine remained physically disabled during capture, its state checked by someone other than her. Local staff would inspect the circuit before it went near the gate.
“It won’t tell you what’s inside,” the technician said.
