The thinning air within the sealed Board chamber made each breath feel like inhaling cold water through a woolen sieve.
Lin Tao knelt at the base of the Central Ledger Pillar, his fingers moving across the polished black green jade with the steady care of a surgeon. The cold stone radiated a high-hum shaking that buzzed against the bones of his knuckles, a sound hum corresponding to ninety-six thousand cycles per second. Around them, the massive circular hall was quiet save for the distant, throbbing hum of the outer edge empty pocket scrubbers steadily draining the room’s air. Every thirty seconds, the massive bronze angled slats overhead shuddered with a hollow metal groan as the air-powered pistons forced another thousand cubic paces of breathable air into the outside exhaust chimney pipes.
Beside the dais steps, Tie Shan stood with his back to the obelisk, his star-iron pry-bar resting horizontally across his thighs. His breath fogged faintly in the chilling air. He condensed in tiny droplets on his thick mustache and the coarse hemp collar of his work tunic. His dark eyes remained fixed upon the twelve raised thrones. He tracked every nervous twitch of the Archons’ silken robes and every shift in their balance point.
