The records gallery’s seal came down behind Yan with a sound like a lid settling on a box. The lantern marks along the wall blinked once. Then the thin image of the furnace console, which had hovered at the edge of his sight, vanished.
For an instant the quiet felt larger than the gallery. Yan kept moving. The loss of the relay meant Qinghe could no longer send her voice through the prepared line. It did not mean the reserve had failed. She had gauges at the console, Gu had the physical cutoff, and the coil circuit had been tested before he lifted his hands.
A clerk stood beside the sealed door, one palm pressed to the wood. He looked as though he had expected the barrier to trap Yan inside. “It closes every line in this gallery,” he said. “Wuchen ordered it after the western district refused him.”
“Did he order the station reconnected without a new reading?”
The clerk glanced toward the records stacks. “The order says the old value is sufficient.”
“Then the order is wrong.” Yan walked past him. “Show me the station list.”
The clerk hesitated only a moment before leading him to a narrow cabinet. He slid out a roll of stamped paper, keeping his fingers clear of the inked seals. The list named three villages in Wuchen’s command, each paired with a mark for the local release. One had a split copper housing. Another had warped under heat. The third showed a line…
