The gauge held at three hundred and fifty-two.
Iven looked at Sera, then back at the cuff. He had spent the previous days on light archive and convoy work, with ordinary meals and enough rest to fill the reserve. The reading had risen slowly through weeks of practice. Today the measured ceiling stood seven charges above the last recorded maximum.
“Again?” he asked.
“After the check interval,” Sera said. “We don’t improve a measurement by making it impatient.”
They waited, checked the instrument against its ordinary reference and repeated the reading. Three hundred and fifty-two. Five channels remained five. The library held twenty-four physical patterns and the passive return, none replaced by the modest increase in room to work.
Iven smiled.
He liked getting stronger. He did not need to turn every gain into a revelation or pretend it meant nothing because the next valley would still be large.
By midmorning, he was on the river with Pera and the copied First Vent drawing.
