The settlement engineer pressed her thumb against the line on the community plan.
“This space is ours again before the last hour,” she said. “Not when your last cart arrives. Before our people need it.”
Kellan had already written the deadline twice. The second time he had put it beside the surface departure, subtracting the passage interval so a driver could not mistake the closing time for a final invitation to enter.
Tessa watched the leaders consider his calculation. They had offered the second route. Agreeing on its use required them to imagine the moment when frightened strangers would stand outside asking them to violate their own condition.
“We need someone at the surface who can say no,” the opposing resident said.
“Someone who knows why,” Tessa answered.
“Knowing won’t make them thank him.”
“No.”
