Sera came on the link from the extraction route at the sixth hour, as the jacket filled.
She was at the second landing. Mara could hear the route behind her: the echo of a long stairwell, and somewhere below Sera, the drip of water on stone. She had been walking the route since midnight, checking the supply stores, and Sen had called her when the pipe crews’ reserve began to run.
“I’ll count it,” Sera said. “From here. All three stages.”
Mara had not asked her to. She did not argue.
“One count to each stage,” Sera said. “I call it, you open. I call the soak, you close. Nobody opens the next stage until I’ve called it. I’ve got your gauges on the route’s slate. Same as you.”
“Agreed,” Mara said.
The staged quench ran over the turning ring.
“Stage one,” Sera said. “Open.”
