Jalen returned the next morning on crutches, carrying a discharge sheet he refused to let Rell touch.
“The hospital checked my leg,” he told Kellan. “No fracture. They told me to keep weight off it, use help on stairs, and come back if the swelling gets worse.”
“Did they clear you to work?”
“They said I shouldn’t carry anything and should use help on stairs.” He pointed to the station entrance. “The controls are on the upper level. I can reach them without taking the damaged passage.”
Kellan read the discharge instructions with Jalen’s permission. They did not authorize him to operate heavy equipment, but they did not prohibit seated work. Kellan called the site officer, who confirmed that the upper route had been inspected and remained open. Jalen could leave at any point; the pump would not run unless both he and Kellan agreed the inspection justified it.
Rell waited at the checkpoint with Dane. He looked at Jalen’s crutches, then at the discharge sheet.
“You could have called in sick.”
“I did. You didn’t answer.”
“I was arranging the station inspection.”
“Then you can tell me what they found.”
Rell handed him a copy of the inspection note. The lower passage remained closed. The upper route and control room were usable with restrictions: no load on the damaged section, no rapid change in water pressure, and a worker stationed at the shutoff while the pump operated.
Kellan read it over Jalen’s shoulder. “That’s not a blanket approval. We still check the joints and the valve.”
“I know,” Jalen said. “I wrote the first warning.”
Dane moved aside to let them through. Nia remained at the entrance with the communication line, the site officer’s number, and a fresh return time. Eli carried the tools and a chair for Jalen. Kellan took a small inspection kit and the signed pump-access agreement.
The upper route climbed around the closed lower passage. Through a gap in the railing Eli could see the supports they had left beneath the damaged beam. A strip of red tape blocked the stairs down. Water pooled beyond it, higher than it had been the previous day.
Jalen stopped at the railing. “It came up overnight.”
“Can we measure how much?” Eli asked.
“There’s a gauge on the control-room wall. It reads the channel level, not the whole tunnel.”
They continued. Jalen moved slowly on the crutches, refusing help until he reached the last step. Kellan steadied the chair while he sat. The control room contained a wall of switches, a pressure gauge, and a blue-handled valve connected to a thick pipe. A logbook lay on a shelf beneath a plastic cover.
Eli recognized the blue valve key in his pocket. He gave it to Jalen, who fitted it to a locked guard beside the handle.
“Don’t open it yet,” Kellan said.
“I wasn’t going to.”
They inspected the pipe joints together. Kellan found a damp patch beneath one coupling and traced it to a loose clamp. Eli used Weak-Point Sight briefly on the surrounding wall. A faint line appeared above the pipe, but it did not connect to the closed lower passage. He marked it on the map and described it to Kellan.
“The clamp needs tightening,” Kellan said. “The wall line gets watched. If either changes, we stop.”
Jalen directed Eli to the shutoff switch. “If I say stop, press the red button. Don’t wait for me to finish the sentence.”
Eli tested the button’s cover without pressing it. “If the radio cuts out?”
“Same signal as yesterday,” Kellan said. “Two pulls on the line for stop, three for emergency. We can see each other from these positions.”
They tightened the clamp with the correct tool, checked the gauge, and cleared the path to the door. Rell stood outside the control room with Dane. He had not offered another operator; his signature on the agreement gave them access, but he retained the right to shut down his station if the inspection showed danger.
Jalen unlocked the valve guard. “Small turns. Watch the pressure.”
He opened the valve a fraction. Water moved through the pipe with a low rush. The pressure gauge rose, then steadied. Kellan checked the joint. No new water appeared beneath the clamp.
“Another fraction,” he said.
Jalen turned the handle. The pipe knocked once. All three froze. Kellan put a hand near the coupling without touching the moving pipe and listened.
“Stop there,” he said. “Let it settle.”
The knocking did not repeat. Jalen waited until the gauge held steady, then opened the valve slightly farther. The pump started with a hum that filled the room. Eli watched the shutoff and the faint line above the pipe. He did not keep his sight active continuously; he checked at intervals and rested his eyes between them.
Dane watched the tunnel waterline from an approved dry position inside the gate and relayed his measurements to Nia, who reported them over the radio. At first it did not change. Then it dropped below the chalk mark by a few millimeters.
“Keep measuring,” Kellan said. “Don’t enter the water.”
Ten minutes later the level had fallen enough to expose the top of the first submerged step. Jalen adjusted the valve only when Kellan had checked the joint. The slow pace frustrated Eli, who could picture the clinic’s inventory and the supplies beyond the door. He kept his hand near the shutoff rather than asking them to hurry.
A sound rattled through the pipe. The pressure needle jumped. Eli pressed the red button before Jalen finished saying “Stop.”
The pump went silent. Water continued moving for a moment, then settled. Kellan inspected the clamp and found it had loosened slightly.
“Can you tighten it?” Rell called from the doorway.
“After we find out why it moved.”
Jalen pointed to a bracket above the coupling. One bolt had worked loose. Kellan secured it with a replacement from the station kit, then checked the adjacent fittings. They restarted the pump at the earlier setting and watched for another jump. The gauge held.
By the time the water exposed the lower steps, Jalen’s face had gone pale. He insisted he was only tired. Kellan asked him to stop the pump and rest while they checked the tunnel. Jalen closed the valve gradually, locked the guard, and accepted water from Eli.
“You don’t have to stay,” Eli said.
“I want to know whether the cache is still there.”
“You can wait at the entrance.”
“I can also tell you which switch not to touch when you decide you need more water moved.”
Kellan gave him a look. “We aren’t deciding that without you.”
They returned to the flooded passage. The water now covered only the lowest section. Kellan tested the floor with the weighted line, then used a pole to probe each step. A layer of silt had collected near the center, but the retaining edge remained visible. He placed a temporary marker at the deepest point and tied a rope along the wall for balance.
Eli crossed first without a crate. He checked the far door, which opened onto a raised platform. Three relief-service crates sat against the wall. One had fallen from the shelf and lay on its side in shallow water. The other two remained above the waterline.
“The seals on two look intact,” he called. “The third is damaged.”
“Don’t open them there,” Kellan said. “Bring out the intact crates first.”
Eli photographed their positions and the water mark. He and Kellan carried the first crate together, keeping it level and using the rope only for balance. At the loose plate they had braced the previous day, Kellan checked both supports before allowing the crate through. Neither had moved.
The second crate was heavier. They rested it on the raised platform, adjusted their grips, and crossed in short stages. Nia recorded each trip at the entrance. Asha, notified by radio, said the clinic could inspect the contents before agreeing to purchase anything.
The damaged crate took longer. Its bottom had softened, and the lid no longer closed securely. Eli wanted to carry it whole. Kellan shook his head.
“If it breaks over the water, we lose what remains and block the route.”
They brought an empty waterproof container from the entrance. Wearing gloves, they transferred sealed packets and wrapped instruments into it, keeping wet packaging separate. They did not declare anything usable; Marisol would have to inspect the contents outside. Asha authorized the transfer over the radio and asked them to photograph the damaged crate before leaving it.
Halfway across with the repacked container, Kellan stopped. A temporary support had developed a slight lean toward the path. The pin was still in place, but one foot sat in softer ground than it had that morning.
“Set it down on the platform,” he said.
Eli obeyed. They carried the container back to the dry ledge and checked the support without placing themselves beneath the beam. Kellan asked Nia to call the site officer. With the officer’s approval, they moved a broad timber pad beneath the foot, using the second support to hold the load while they adjusted the first.
The work cost them another fifteen minutes. Eli watched the water rise against the chalk mark and felt the pressure to rush. Kellan checked the pin twice before lifting the container again. They crossed with one person watching each support and left the borrowed pad in place beneath the loaded support until the structural crew could replace or safely unload it. The site officer recorded the adjustment so the next crew would know why it had been made and could decide whether to replace the support before moving any further load.
On the last trip, Eli noticed that the water had begun to rise again. The pump was stopped, and the channel was refilling. He told Kellan. They shortened the rest between lifts but did not run. After they carried the container through the gate, Nia helped them set it on a dry mat outside.
Jalen waited in the chair outside the control room. “Did you get them?”
“Two sealed crates and the contents of the damaged one,” Eli said. “We don’t know what’s usable yet.”
Jalen nodded toward the logbook. “My warning is in there. Before Rell sent me down.”
Rell had gone to speak to the site officer. Dane stood at the far end of the corridor, checking the barrier. Jalen opened the logbook to a page dated the day before the collapse. His entry described cracks in the lower passage and pipe movement during a test. Beneath it was a later assignment directing him to inspect the valve.
“Did Rell see this?” Eli asked.
“I gave him the book. He signed the next page, but he can say he didn’t read mine.”
Eli photographed the entry and the following page with Jalen’s permission. He included the date, the page number, and enough of the surrounding entries to show their sequence. Jalen kept the original in the station, under the plastic cover.
“Don’t tell him I showed you,” Jalen said.
“I won’t.”
“I need the job. I need to think before I make a complaint.”
Kellan checked the time on the photographs and wrote where the book had been found. He did not remove it. When Rell returned, Jalen had closed the cover and moved his chair away from the shelf.
Asha met them at the entrance. She checked the crate seals, signed the recovery record, and arranged transport to the clinic for inspection. The fixed recovery fee would be paid under the written terms; the price of any stock would be settled after Marisol determined what could be used.
Rell watched the crates leave. “The pump access was a fair exchange.”
Kellan looked toward the closed lower passage. “Jalen was trapped. Access was only part of what had to be handled.”
Rell did not answer. Jalen adjusted his crutches and followed the crates out, moving slowly but refusing another hand. Eli kept the photographs on his phone and sent a copy to a secure location he controlled. The pages showed a warning before an assignment. They did not prove what Rell had read, and they were not Eli’s permission to expose the worker who had shown them.