Kellan arrived at the gate carrying a folded map and a wrist brace.
“The clinic checked it,” he said before Eli could ask. “Strained, not broken. I can work, but I’m not lifting a full load with that hand today.”
He held out the revised agreement. Nora had reviewed the insurance wording and identified a reporting deadline. Asha had confirmed the assessment payment on receipt of a report and a site officer’s entry record. The recovery split and equipment costs were written separately. Either worker could stop an unsafe lift without losing the assessment fee.
Eli checked the signatures. “Your copy?”
“In my bag.” Kellan tapped the map. “The public diagram shows the cache room and the flooded tunnel. It doesn’t show what supports the floor above either one.”
The gate stood beneath a raised railway line. A temporary office had been set up beside it, with a desk for permits and a board listing teams inside. Asha met them there. She wore a relief-service vest and carried a list of the cache’s contents.
“The original team left three crates,” she said. “One holds dressings and instruments. The other two contain medication and cooling packs. We don’t know whether the seals survived the flooding.”
“Who owns the pump?” Kellan asked.
“The station was part of the site before the gate formed. Another team has the current contract to inspect it and the adjacent route.”
“Can we use it?”
“You’ll need their permission. My agreement gives you access to the cache route, not their control room.”
Asha gave them the contact for the rival team leader, a man named Rell, and warned that the map was based on the first survey. The water had risen since then. She signed their entry sheet and repeated the requirement to report back by the agreed time.
Kellan laid the map across the office desk. “This line here—does it represent a wall or a raised channel?”
Asha looked closely. “The surveyor called it a retaining edge. I don’t know how high.”
“Then we’ll measure it before we put weight on it.” He drew a small arrow beside the line. “If the floor carries load toward this support, the water may be hiding damage at the base.”
Eli watched him sketch a second line. “My sight may show strain in the wall.”
“And it may not show the soil or water moving beneath it. We’ll check both.”
They passed through the gate with two lamps, rope, a measuring tape, and the minimum tools they could carry without committing to a lift. The entrance chamber opened into a concrete corridor. Water stained the lower walls, and a faint current of cool air moved toward them.
Eli used Weak-Point Sight on the first support. A bright line ran along a crack at its base. He marked it on the map and described it to Kellan.
Kellan crouched on the opposite side. “Look at the beam above.”
The beam appeared sound to Eli’s sight. Kellan pointed to a metal plate where the beam met the wall. One bolt had pulled away from its washer, leaving a narrow gap.
“If the load shifts, the plate can rotate,” he said. “The stone isn’t the only thing holding it.”
Eli had been concentrating on the bright fracture and had missed the ordinary metal fitting. He examined the plate without using the ability. The bolt was visibly loose once Kellan showed him.
“Can it be secured?” he asked.
“Possibly. Not with what we brought, and not while we don’t know what’s above it.”
They backed away. Kellan drew the beam, plate, and support on the map, then added arrows showing the likely load path. He marked the cracked base and the loose bolt separately.
“What would you use?” Eli asked.
“Two temporary supports. One here, one outside the path where we’ll carry the crates. We need room to move if either shifts.”
They continued as far as the flooded tunnel. Water covered the floor from wall to wall, dark beneath their lamps. A handrail descended into it and disappeared after three steps. The current was slow but visible where it carried a scrap of paper past the rail.
Eli crouched near the edge. His sight revealed strain in the wall above the waterline, but the surface reflected his lamp and obscured the lower structure. He could not tell whether the floor beneath the water remained intact.
Kellan dropped a small weighted line from the first step. It touched bottom, then slid several inches toward the center.
“There’s a slope or a current under there,” he said. “Maybe both.”
“Could we wade?”
“Not with a crate until we know what’s underfoot. If the water’s carrying fine material out, the floor could give when we load it.”
A low mechanical sound came from beyond the wall: a pump starting and stopping, or something tapping a pipe. Kellan listened with his head tilted.
“The station may still have power,” he said. “That doesn’t mean it’s working properly.”
Eli pointed his lamp toward a door across the water. A relief-service marker had been painted above it. The cache lay beyond that point, according to Asha’s map. The crates might be dry on a raised shelf, or they might already be ruined. He could not tell from here.
Eli took a photograph of the waterline with the ruler against the first step. Kellan made him hold the ruler vertically instead of against the sloping edge. The difference was small, but enough to matter if they came back and tried to compare levels.
“Do you think the crates are still dry?” Eli asked.
“They were on shelves in the survey. How high?”
“Asha didn’t say.”
“Then we ask. If the water reached them, we don’t carry a box of soaked medicine out and call it recovered.”
Eli put the ruler away. “You seem to know a lot about loading stations.”
“I helped build drainage channels and worked on repairs after the first gate disturbances. Most of the work wasn’t interesting until someone wanted it done quickly.” Kellan shifted the brace on his wrist. “Then every person who had never lifted a beam became an expert on how long it should take.”
“Have you worked inside a gate before?”
“Twice. Once on a reinforced entrance, once on a rescue route. The second crew paid on time. The first still owes me for a day they called training.”
“Did you claim it?”
“I tried. The supervisor said I hadn’t signed in. I had, but he kept the sheet.”
Eli looked toward the entrance. A watcher outside could provide a separate record this time. “We have copies of our entry and the agreement.”
“And a person who can tell someone we’re late.” Kellan put a hand on the rail without leaning on it. “That doesn’t replace a safe route. It means we have a chance if the route fails.”
A ripple crossed the water. Both men went quiet. It struck the step, reflected from the wall, and reached them again. Kellan dropped the line a second time. The weight touched bottom closer to the edge than before.
“Could be debris shifting,” he said. “Could be the current. We don’t know.”
Eli wanted to take another look through the water with his ability. His eyes were already beginning to ache, and the reflection had not improved. He recorded the ripple and the time instead. The mark would give them something to compare if they returned after the pump was inspected.
They withdrew to the entrance and reported what they had found. Asha had a second appointment across town and could not remain at the gate. She reviewed Kellan’s drawing, signed the assessment entry, and asked them to send the full report after the job.
“Can you get us access to the pump?” Eli asked.
“Rell controls the station route under his contract. I’ll call him, but I can’t order him to let you in.”
While she called, Kellan inspected a rack of rental equipment beside the permit office. The temporary supports were heavier than Eli had expected. He tested the locking pins with his good hand and asked the attendant for their load ratings and inspection dates.
The attendant showed him the tags. One support had an overdue inspection. Kellan rejected it and chose another. The rental fee was higher than Eli’s estimate.
“We can use one,” Eli said, looking at the budget.
“We need two if we brace the beam and leave the carry path clear.”
“That leaves less for the supplies.”
“Yes.” Kellan set the support back on the rack. “It also leaves us alive to buy them.”
Eli ran the numbers again. They could afford two supports if he reduced the amount he planned to contribute to the clinic immediately. The assessment fee would reimburse part of the cost once paid. He called Leah before using any money set aside for the clinic. She confirmed that the equipment deposit could come from the unrestricted fund, with the amount and return condition recorded.
Eli checked the rental receipt against the serial numbers stamped on both supports. The attendant corrected one digit before they signed. Kellan tested the pins once more and asked how the deposit would be returned if a support was damaged in use. The attendant wrote the procedure on their copy. Eli folded it into the same sleeve as the job terms. He had learned how quickly a missing receipt could turn a deposit into another argument after the people and equipment were already back outside.
Asha returned from her call. “Rell will meet you at the station checkpoint. He hasn’t agreed to access.”
Kellan hired a local worker named Nia to watch the entrance. She would record their entry and expected return time, keep the communication line at the gate, and call the site officer if they failed to report. The fee came from the agreed equipment and support budget. Nia read the instructions, then asked what she should do if the line went quiet before the deadline.
“Call us once,” Kellan said. “If there’s no answer, notify the site officer. Don’t enter alone.”
“And if I hear fighting?”
“Notify the officer immediately.”
Nia wrote both instructions on a card. She tested the line with Eli while he walked to the far end of the entrance chamber. His voice came through with a burst of static, then cleared. They tested a second time from behind the first bend; the signal weakened but remained usable.
Back inside, Kellan and Eli carried the supports in stages. Kellan used his uninjured hand to guide one end while Eli took more of the weight. At the loose plate, they set the first support beneath a solid section of beam. Kellan adjusted the height slowly, listening for movement.
“Don’t crank it tight,” he said. “We want to support the load, not force the beam upward.”
Eli held the base while Kellan secured the pin. The second support went beside the carry path, leaving enough room for a crate to pass without catching. Kellan tested each base, then stepped back.
“Temporary,” he said. “If water reaches the feet or either moves, we stop.”
Eli used his sight again. The bright line at the cracked base remained, but the strain around the beam appeared reduced. He described the change without calling the support safe. Kellan checked the bolt and made his own note.
At the flooded tunnel, the water had risen by the width of a finger against the first step. The entrance attendant confirmed that no one had operated a pump from that side. Kellan marked the new level on the wall.
“We need the station,” he said.
A narrow walkway branched from the tunnel toward Rell’s checkpoint. A light burned there, and two figures stood behind a barrier made from stacked cases. One raised a hand as Eli approached.
“Contract area,” the guard called. “No access without the leader’s permission.”
“We’re here to speak to Rell,” Eli said.
The guard checked the barrier latch before answering, pulling it shut when a loose strap caught in the hinge. Then he looked past Eli toward the flooded passage. For a moment his face changed. He turned back to the barrier before Eli could ask why.
“Wait there,” he said, and disappeared through the station door.