The habitation voices brought the Sable dock watch officer back onto the record.
It took Mara a moment to understand. She was at the plate beside the screen, writing Hearth’s gauge reading for Ysol in her own hand, and the walls began to speak above her, near the cage, warm, many-voiced.
“The Sable dock watch officer,” habitation said. “Is on the record.”
Mara looked up.
On the well’s screen, beside habitation’s line, a new entry had appeared in the record. A post rather than a name: Sable station: dock watch officer. With a date beside it. The date of Sable’s retirement.
“The dock watch officer,” habitation said, “held the lock on Sable’s evacuation dock. The lock that kept the dock sealed while the transports were expected. The officer’s pattern was combined, at the closure. Into us. With the others.”
Mara stood still.
“The lock,” habitation said. “The officer’s lock. Does it still hold?” A pause. “Name the living who depend on that lock.”
