The first creature left through the upper seam. The second did not leave at all.
Iven watched through the door’s clouded glass as the larger shape climbed the wall and vanished into the dark. The smaller one remained beneath the pipe, its forelimbs braced against the damaged mounting. It scraped steadily at the edge of the plate.
“Can it hear us through the door?” Dessa asked.
“I don’t know,” Kesh said. “It could feel the floor. Or smell us. Or it could be busy and not care.”
“Those are all excellent answers.”
“They’re honest ones.”
The shift engineer had held the heat reduction for nearly an hour. The note she sent afterward was less generous than the first: the terrace kitchens had switched to stored heat, but the storage would last only through the next meal cycle. Restoring flow to the upper line without a secure bracket risked tearing the mounting. Leaving the flow reduced indefinitely risked a different failure.
Brell read the note twice. “We need the plate on before the valve opens.”
“And a safe way to put it there,” Neri said.
The bridging plate lay on the shelf with its two sets of brackets. Neri had designed it to span the damaged mounting and attach to solid framing on either side. It could keep the pipe from striking the wall. It could not stop a creature from standing in the precise place where a worker needed to put the lower bolt.
Iven looked through the glass again. The smaller creature had pulled away a piece of old sealant. Dark fluid ran down behind it and dripped onto the grating. The creature lowered its head to the fluid, then raised it at a faint click from the wall.
“It’s doing something with the wound,” Sera said.
“That doesn’t mean it wants us to help,” Kesh replied.
“No. But if we cover the mounting without closing the tear, the fluid will collect behind the plate.”
Neri folded her arms. “And if we leave the pipe loose, it’ll strike the tear every cycle.”
The problem had edges. Iven preferred that to a problem that hid its shape until a tool went through it.
He traced the chamber layout on Neri’s drawing. “We can take the load off the bracket with the maintenance jack. Put the plate against the solid frame. Leave a small drain below the damaged edge, away from the pipe. Then Sera can decide what to do with the tissue without dismantling the support.”
“Only if we can reach it,” Dessa said.
Kesh studied the drawing. “The smaller one followed the first into the chamber. It came after the pipe was quiet. It may leave if the first calls.”
“Or it may not,” Brell said.
“Yes.”
“Can you make the call?”
Kesh looked at her. “I can make a noise. I can’t promise it means the same thing.”
They chose a simpler plan. They would open the door only wide enough to slide the torn drill guard into the chamber on a hook. Kesh would pull it toward the upper seam, away from the mounting. If the creature followed, they would close the door and wait. If it attacked the hook or came toward the door, they would withdraw.
The guard had been left inside when they fled. Kesh’s hook was long enough to reach it from the threshold if the creature stayed near the mounting.
Brell took the whistle. Neri and Dessa moved the plate behind a barrier. Iven seated brace, spring, and piston. Sera stood beside the first-aid case with a clear route to the passage.
Kesh lifted the bolt. The door opened a hand’s width.
The creature stopped scraping. Its head rose. For a long moment it stayed where it was, the dark fluid shining beneath its jaw.
Kesh extended the hook toward the torn guard. Metal touched metal with a faint click. The creature’s head turned.
“Slow,” Brell murmured.
Kesh caught the guard and drew it across the grating. The scrape was not loud, but it carried. The creature took one step toward it, then another. Kesh pulled the guard toward the far wall.
The creature followed.
Iven kept his hand on the door. It could be closed quickly, but not if he trapped the hook. Kesh lifted the guard slightly and moved it toward the upper seam. The creature raised its forelimbs and climbed after it.
A sound came from behind the wall: a short rasp, then a heavier knock. The creature paused. It turned its head toward the seam and climbed higher.
“Now,” Kesh said.
She released the guard and withdrew the hook. Iven closed the door. The bolt slid home with a sound that felt much louder than it was.
They waited. Through the glass, the chamber appeared empty. Iven checked the opening beneath the pipe, then the seam above it. Nothing moved.
Brell held up three fingers. Everyone counted silently. At the end, she lifted the bolt again.
They entered with the plate, jack, and tools. Kesh remained at the door with the whistle and shield. Neri and Dessa carried the plate. Iven went to the pipe and set the jack beneath it, taking care not to push against the damaged mounting. He raised the jack until the pipe’s weight eased off the bracket.
“Ready,” he said.
Neri held the plate in place. Dessa marked the first bolt hole on the solid frame. The hole had been drilled earlier into a separate piece of metal; they were not cutting into the wall itself. Iven tightened the upper bolt while Neri checked the gap around the pipe.
“The drain is clear,” she said. “Lower bracket.”
Dessa knelt to fit it. Something clicked inside the low opening.
Kesh blew once.
Everyone stopped. Iven kept his hand on the bolt but did not turn it. Dessa rose from her crouch. The click came again, followed by a soft scrape.
The smaller creature emerged beneath the pipe.
It had not climbed through the upper seam after all. It must have doubled back through a passage inside the wall. Iven felt a brief, sharp irritation at himself for believing the empty chamber meant an empty approach. He put the feeling aside. There would be time to criticize the plan if they got out.
The creature’s head turned toward Dessa. She stood between it and the door.
“Don’t run,” Kesh said.
Dessa did not. She lifted the lower bracket slowly, putting the metal between her body and the creature without presenting it like a weapon.
The creature advanced. Its hooked feet found the edge of the grating. It struck the bracket once, then pulled. Dessa let go. The piece dropped with a clang, and the creature dragged it beneath the pipe.
Brell blew twice.
Neri moved toward the door. Dessa followed her, keeping the barrier between herself and the creature. Iven released the upper bolt and stepped back from the jack. They had fitted only half the plate, but half a plate could be removed later if necessary. Nobody’s life was worth defending a bolt.
A second shape dropped from the upper seam.
It landed between Kesh and the doorway, pale armor striking the floor. Kesh raised her shield. The creature hit it hard enough to drive her into the doorframe.
Iven sprang forward. The short impulse carried him across the space before the creature could turn. He struck the exposed leg joint with a piston blow. The creature reeled, then snapped toward him. He caught its head on a plate brace and felt the impact through his shoulder.
“Through!” he shouted.
Neri pulled Dessa past Kesh. Brell followed them. Kesh shoved the door open farther, trying to make room for Iven without exposing the passage.
The smaller creature left the bracket and came toward him. Iven had the larger one’s weight against his brace. He could not hold both in the narrow space for long, and he did not have winch draw seated. He pushed the larger head sideways against the jack rather than toward Kesh. The jack rocked but stayed upright.
The smaller creature darted beneath the pipe. It seized Iven’s coat near his hip and pulled. Cloth tore. He twisted away before its jaw reached skin, then planted his right foot against the grating and struck down with the heel of his hand. The piston impulse hit its shoulder plate and drove it back.
The larger creature recovered. It struck again, this time low. Iven jumped sideways with spring step, let the creature pass, and brought his hammer against its broken shoulder. The blow was ordinary steel and muscle, but the damaged plate cracked farther. The creature faltered.
He could have followed with another strike. Kesh was already through the doorway. The others were clear. Iven backed after her, keeping his brace between himself and the creatures.
The smaller one sprang. Iven caught it on the shield of force, turned, and shoved it toward the wall. It struck the mounting rather than the pipe. The partly installed plate rang.
“Move!” Brell shouted.
Iven moved. He crossed the threshold, and Kesh slammed the door. Brell drove the bolt home. Something hit the other side hard enough to shake the frame, then struck again lower down.
They stood in the passage, breathing. Iven’s coat had a torn flap near the hem. His left arm tingled from the impacts; the graft was warm but not unstable. He checked his fingers and found that they still closed properly.
Dessa sat on the floor with her back against the wall. “I don’t like them.”
“You don’t have to,” Kesh said.
“I know. I thought I should say it anyway.”
Sera examined Kesh’s shoulder where the shield strap had pressed into it. There was a bruise forming but no obvious break. She turned to Iven and inspected the tear in his coat.
“Skin?” she asked.
“Still inside the coat.”
“Show me.”
He did. A shallow scrape crossed his hip where the cloth had pulled. Sera cleaned it with a severity that suggested she was treating both the injury and his habit of minimizing it.
Neri checked the door bolt. “The plate is held by the upper fastener. The lower bracket’s inside.”
“And the jack,” Iven said.
“Yes. I know where I left it.”
Brell looked down the passage toward the service hatch. “The engineer will ask whether we finished.”
“Tell her the truth,” Sera said.
“I generally do. It doesn’t always help.”
The pipe’s vibration changed. The reduced flow had held steady until now, but a new pulse traveled through the wall beneath their feet. Iven looked at the note. The engineer had promised two hours. They had not used all of them.
“Someone opened the valve,” he said.
Brell was already moving. She sent one worker up the stair and another to the nearest emergency shutoff. The shutoff served only the local branch; closing it would protect the chamber but deprive the nearby workshops of heat until the upper line was adjusted.
The worker reached the wheel and found it jammed. He pulled once, then called for help.
Iven went with Brell. The wheel sat in a shallow recess above the grating. Its spindle had been painted so many times that the edge of the housing was almost sealed to it. He knocked the paint loose with his hammer, fitted his spanner to the square end, and pulled. The wheel moved a fraction.
“Together,” Brell said.
They turned it until the valve closed. The vibration faded. Somewhere above them, a pipe knocked once and then settled.
The worker sent upstairs returned with the woman in the blue apron. She was breathing hard.
“The terrace line dropped faster than the engineer expected,” she said. “A supervisor ordered the flow restored. She stopped it when your man reached the valve room.”
“Which supervisor?” Brell asked.
“I don’t know his name.”
“Find it.”
The woman looked as if she might object, then saw Brell’s face and nodded.
Sera opened her sample case. “The tissue will still be there when we can reach it. We don’t need to make another attempt while the valve room and this chamber are giving different orders.”
Neri agreed. She asked Dessa to take a fresh plate from the workshop, since the first was now partly installed and inaccessible. Brell arranged a temporary heat source for the workshops served by the closed branch. It was a poor substitute and would need fuel by evening, but it kept the decision from falling entirely on the people closest to the risk.
Kesh sat on a crate and inspected her shield. One wooden layer had split. She ran a finger along the break.
“I told you the second might have left,” she said to Iven.
“You said it might not.”
“I wanted the first answer.”
“So did I.”
She looked up. “You could have killed the larger one.”
“It was between us and the door. I hit what I had to.”
“I’m not accusing you.”
“I know.” He leaned against the wall beside her. “I don’t know what they’re doing in there. I do know they’ll hurt someone who gets close enough.”
“Both things can be true.”
“Usually the inconvenient things are.”
Kesh smiled briefly, then returned to the broken shield. She would need a new layer before going back into the chamber. Iven offered to help, and she accepted on the condition that he did not turn it into an excuse to repair the mounting alone.
By evening, Brell had a written account of the unauthorized valve change, the shift engineer had arranged a longer reduction, and Neri’s replacement plate was ready. None of it made the creatures less dangerous. It gave the people facing them a little more control over the next attempt.
Iven walked home past the rope shop. The new shore held the upper wall straight. A lantern burned beside Arlen’s door, and someone had placed his tin cup on the sill. He paused long enough to make sure the temporary heat-pipe bracket remained secure.
The young tenant came out carrying a tray. “I put the screw in.”
“I can see that.”
“It’s a screw. Not a nail.”
“I’m glad my advice has reached at least one person today.”
The tenant set the tray beneath the lantern. It held a piece of bread and a folded scrap of paper. He did not explain either. Iven did not ask.
Far below the lane, the pipe would be quiet for a few hours. The creatures would still be there. Tomorrow, the crew would have to decide how to work around both facts.