The first inspection meeting began with an argument over whether the report should exist yet.
Juno had slept in a chair, badly, and woke with the side of her face marked by the seam of her coat. By the time she reached the temporary workroom, two technicians had found components running beyond their design tolerances. A third had no reliable reading because the instrument needed to inspect it had remained in a district still under restricted access.
The seal held.
Those three words had already begun doing too much work.
“We publish after repairs,” a human workshop representative said. “A list of faults now will be read as a list of failures.”
“It is a list of failures,” the dungeon engineer across from him answered.
“Not failures of the seal.”
“Then say which part failed.”
