The upper compound’s gate stood open for the inspection.
Its guards still counted everyone through.
Iven noticed both facts. He gave his name, kept his lance and waited while Nyla’s two local operators were admitted with their own tools. The agreement had named an inspection, not a transfer of weapons or authority. Venn’s captain did not try to improve it at the threshold.
Beyond the gate, North Counterhouse filled a long shelf above the warm feeder.
Work decks crossed between separate stone piers. Heavy couplings lay on low stands. Cable wheels rose over two counterweight shafts, their moving lines marked with bright bands so a tired worker could see the direction of travel. At the far end, a balance gallery linked three platforms that could be raised independently or joined for a large lift.
Iven could see why people trusted the place.
It was maintained. Tools had racks. Walkways had clear edges. A worker could reach the emergency stops without climbing over the material supposedly waiting to be repaired. Nothing about recognizing that required him to ignore the guard post above the public side road.
Adel met them beside the first coupling stand.
