Thessa made him walk upstream before she showed him the total.
“If you see the number first,” she said, “you’ll spend the morning looking for reasons it should stay that way.”
Iven put the folded account back into its sleeve. Edda smiled and led them along the spring road.
It was the two hundred and twenty-sixth day. Mist hung low over the northern tank, whose outer wall stood clean where Fara’s crew had repointed the damaged joints. The gallery duct had been replaced by a permanent ventilating arrangement with sampling points at the low places. The restricted work areas remained marked. Pet’s mesh barrier still protected the side crack, and someone had chalked a small crab beside the inspection note.
The tank held water above the shallow level Iven had left weeks earlier.
He stopped at the staff.
“Full test?”
“Repeated holds,” Edda said. “The usable level’s below the old flood mark. We don’t count the top space.”
