Five local channels woke, and the bridge stayed dark.
Mara was in the cradle. She had gone in the moment the new heart seated, through the shield door, into the chair on the left, with Sera’s rescue line clipped to her harness. The shield had closed over her. The graft was humming.
The new heart was in its seat. The bridge was not.
She felt it through the cradle plate. The new heart’s tone, coming up as Hearth’s flow came into it from the lattice. Low, clean. And the channels waking, one after another, as the flow reached them. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Five of the six local channels, taking Hearth’s load, sending it out to Cinder. She felt each one wake, a new note joining the tone.
The sixth was slower. The one whose seat the arm had struck last. It came, a beat after the others.
And the bridge stayed dark.
The bridge was still on the brace. Still being carried by the four burning segments, through Eshel’s bypass, around the housing. It had to come across, from the brace to the new heart’s sleeve, and the new heart had to take it. And it had not.
