Anchor caught the seating plate before its upper edge lifted clear of the catch. Eli felt the object resist, one small hard fact against the shifting pressure around it. The talent did not mend the stone. Dust continued falling through the new crack, and the lower prop scraped another fraction across its seat.
“Pulse begun,” Tessa said.
The technician slid the opposed catch inward while the plate was still aligned. The engineer called the gap. Eli held his attention on the chalk cross rather than the whole tilting assembly. If he imagined the mount as one piece, he could feel himself reaching for a load he had never been assessed to carry and a stillness the talent could not promise.
Tessa gave the release cue. He opened his left hand. The plate settled onto the tightened catches. The assembly sagged, stopped, and held its changed angle on ordinary metal. The first pulse had bought enough time to keep that angle from becoming a fall.
“Physical bearing,” the technician said.
Eli stepped back and answered the current-position questions. No new intrusion. More effort than the unloaded seating test. He told Tessa that too, with the mount’s small movement still sharp in his hand. The alternate continued at the live bridge. He did not turn toward the alternate’s station when its acknowledgment sounded.
