The dockworker who had put down the coal was wearing a red armband.
Iven recognized him beside the rope store. The young man looked away too late.
Across the quay, the western patrol tender lay against a detained barge. Two gray-green guards stood by its gangway while the captain checked a list with the barge’s master. The gun boat remained farther out, its sternwheel beating steadily against the current. Freight could not cross the upstream bridge, but people still walked it in both directions.
It was the fourth morning since the restriction began. The detentions had acquired tags, petitions and men who wanted to do something before another shift lost its work.
Iven had come with Mara to witness a joint inventory. A council clerk wanted to establish which fittings had actually been seized. The barge captain wanted everyone to stop losing her money. The western officer had agreed to an inspection without agreeing to release anything.
The man with the armband stood beside three others.
One carried a canvas roll too rigid to be tools.
Iven stopped.
