The commander nearest the gate wanted the vehicles sent to his neighborhood first. He had watched cracks open in a passage that had been sound that morning. People could see the damaged wall from their windows. If another surge came while transport went elsewhere, he would be the one standing in front of them.
The other coordinator let him finish, then gave Tessa the number of residents who could not use the stair route without assistance. Among them were two people whose chairs would not fit the narrow service turn. Her volunteers could carry some people, slowly. They could not carry everyone before the reduced protection began.
Tessa laid a finger on each neighborhood on the map. She was below ground, beside a live junction, and neither commander’s streets belonged to her. What she could do was stop their competing appeals from concealing the information needed to move.
“Give me the vehicle positions,” she said. “Which ones can take a chair without transferring its user?”
The transport dispatcher had three vehicles listed. Only one was at the location on the board. A second was still unloading at the school. The third had a damaged rear platform. It could carry seated passengers who could transfer with help; it could not take the chairs the coordinator had described.
