On day 1567, the South Beds smelled of warm stone and cut stems. Neri had expected terraces. Instead she found long low rooms under a broken ridge, each roof half rock and half repaired tile, with open strips between them where winter light could reach the leaves. Water moved below the walking boards. Its noise was gentle enough that she heard someone sharpening a hoe in the next room.
The keeper met them carrying a basket of roots.
“I am Pell,” she said. “If you want the old receiver, you must walk through the food first.”
Neri introduced Iven and Ama, then showed the little board on which she had written the examination’s limits. No opening of the regional branch today. No change to the beds’ water without Pell standing beside the valve. A measurement could be stopped as soon as the local use changed.
Pell read the board, looked up, and said, “Good. You can put your bags beside the stairs.”
There was no dispute over a document. The difficulty was already growing in the ground.
They walked between rows of pale climbing beans and squat plants whose thick leaves stored water. Young shoots occupied the warmest wall. Two men lifted spent trays onto a wheeled rack. One had removed his shirt despite the cool morning outside. Pell gave the basket to a girl at the washing trough and took a thermometer from its cupboard.
