The commander of the first district put all the available heavy equipment beside his own mark.
He did not pretend it was fair. He said the strongest warning deserved the strongest response, and if the first barrier failed quickly, fairness would not bring the people behind it back. Eli watched the small pieces of wood gather on one side of the table. They represented devices that had to be carried, maintained, and defended by people already tired.
Across from him, the third district’s commander kept one finger on an empty square.
“My current reading is quiet,” she said. “That is not the same as no danger.”
Eli asked the first commander what he would leave at the other locations if they failed in the wrong order. The man named local crews and a few remaining devices. Juno compared those names against the actual roster. One crew had already committed to an anchor. Another’s shift ended before the proposed warning window. Moving them would require another agreement, not another wooden marker.
Eli gathered the inaccurate pieces away from the plan.
“We need a minimum response at all three,” he said. “Then a mobile reserve that can move when independent observations show the greatest danger.”
