The road out of Caldrin ran between two hills that had once been the same hill.
The returned acknowledgment had reached the water office at dawn on the five hundred and thirty-seventh day. The request sent on the thirty-first had reached the outpost on the thirty-fourth; the reply had taken the three-day return leg. Dalen accepted the named visitors and the accompanying company-engineer role. Annet’s separate work order supplied her nomination within that role.
Iven stood on the wagon step and looked back through the cut. Furnace towers rose above the basin, their smoke flattened by a low wind. From this distance the roofs of South Bank were an uneven brown strip against the river. He could not pick out the room where Neri had kissed him goodbye. He could see the new water tower beyond it, bright in the morning sun.
Mara clicked her tongue at the mules. The wagon jolted forward and Iven sat down before it could throw him into the sacks.
“Comfortable?” she asked.
“No.”
“Good. The water inspector gets the cushion because she brought the map.”
Inspector Orla sat across from him with the cushion beneath her and the map open over her knees. She had worked the Eastwater Steps pumps for twelve years before taking the water-office appointment. Her boots had been resoled so often that the leather at the toes looked older than the rest of them. Beside her, Annet held a wooden case against the wagon’s bouncing side. Inside were gauges, a…
