A legal audit can’t rely on a book alone. Under Section Fifty-Two of the Imperial Custodial Transit Code, whenever abandoned commercial cargo is recovered, the claimant must execute a physical proof of the goods: counting the packages, verifying the manufacturer’s seals, inspecting the tare weights, and sampling the contents for spoilage or substitution.
Tomas Reed and Nessa Vale spent five hours executing the physical inventory of Gallery North.
The heat inside the vault remained thirty-five degrees below zero. To work without losing the use of their fingers, they worked in twenty-minute shifts, returning to the small charcoal fire bowl Kael had set up in the doorway to warm their hands over the glowing coals.
Tomas carried a pair of iron measuring tongs and an unshaped steel bone-scraper. He moved down the first row of sixty crates, examining every iron band and lead seal.
“Row One, Crate One,” Tomas called out. His breath formed thick white clouds that settled on the rough spruce wood.
Nessa stood at the portable writing desk, her fingers wrapped in fingerless wool gloves beneath leather mitts, her pen ready over a clean inventory quire.
“Marked: Wheat Flour, Fine Bolted,” Tomas read from the stenciled lettering. “Weight stamped: One hundred and twenty pounds net. Manufacturer: High-Arch Crown Mills. Seal mark: Royal Broad Arrow 44.”
