The improvement could be heard.
For most of the morning the barrier had carried a thin, uneven hiss, a sound like water passing through a cracked pipe. Eli had stopped noticing it until it changed. The broken rhythm drew together. Blue light deepened along the upper span, and the sag above the western brace lifted until the line stood straight against the chamber stone.
A steward near the rail laughed aloud.
Across the enclosure, the settlement engineer watched her own indicator instead of the light. She had expected some improvement; she still leaned closer when the reading settled. The independent operator said a number quietly. Juno made him repeat it before she wrote it down.
“Output rose,” the engineer said.
Nobody at their stand denied it.
The first hunter accepted his reward.
His interface flashed white at the edges. He rocked back on his heels, caught himself, and spread his fingers as if warmth had entered them. The crowd’s applause concealed what he said. Eli saw the expression, though: surprise turning to pleasure, the kind people tried to hide when they feared pleasure might be taken away.
