Harl had built the trial chamber inside a packing crate.
The crate’s lid stood open on two straps. Inside, a small metal throat faced a flexible sheet stretched across a round frame. Below it, the drive turned an eccentric through a guarded coupling. The whole assembly sat on the padded mounting Neri and Dessa had signed off the night before.
“It looks less impressive with the lid up,” Harl said.
“It looks easier to stop.”
“That too.”
Vessa was sitting at the far side of the bench, cutting a fresh paper strip for the recorder. She held it up to the light, rejected a section with a crease and took another from the roll.
Iven put his tool bag beneath the bench.
The clinic’s spare output came through a regulated connection with a physical stop beside the operator’s hand. The blower demand remained on the larger side of the board. They had agreed on a ceiling for the trial, written it on the connection card and set the mechanical limit to match. If the experiment wanted more, it would wait.
