Chapter 87: The Berth Reserved in Advance

The cassette began hammering inside its sealed cradle.

Not vibrating. Hammering.

Each blow crossed the custody frame, traveled through the shelf, and answered from inside the service-bay wall. Above E-2’s bed, another red segment vanished from the protected clock.

Five minutes.

Elias watched through the bay glass. His right leg lay elevated across the evacuation chair, splinted from thigh to shin. Swelling pressed the straps deep enough into his trousers to make Sen’s expression increasingly homicidal.

“Mark live engagement,” he said. “Then hold every exit.”

Tovan’s stylus cut across the paired slate. “Marked.”

Mara moved before the final stroke landed.

Cassian dragged down the receiving-rail lever. Its brass teeth stopped halfway, kicked against his palm, and tried to climb.

At the return pipe, Tovan threaded a witness chain through the wheel and snapped a numbered seal shut. Mara stamped the waste-chute pedal until its internal flap bucked against her boot, then forced the locking pin through. Pellin dropped the maintenance-hatch crossbar.

Something struck the hatch from the far side.

The bar jumped in his hands but settled into its brackets.

“Four-exit infrastructure hold active,” Tovan said. “Receiving rail held by Rook. Return pipe under independent seal. Waste chute held by Venn. Maintenance hatch barred by Pellin.”

Beside them, E-2’s independent breathing circuit continued its patient hiss.

Mara returned to the bed and slipped two fingers beneath the heated mask fitting. “Your air is separate from the bay mechanism. Something is trying to send your authorization through that wall. We can intercept it without disconnecting you, but the fitting may heat and the process may hurt. One squeeze means continue. Two means stop. Do you understand?”

E-2 squeezed once.

“Do you consent?”

A second single squeeze.

“Witnessed,” Tovan called.

Mara looked through the glass at Elias.

“Your bay,” he said.

“If I call a stop?”

“Everything stops.”

“And afterward?”

“No corrections from the injured seating section.”

“That would require him to survive me,” Sen said.

E-2’s eyes creased above the mask.

Mara squeezed the patient’s hand. “Good. Mockery remains our most reliable treatment.”

The clock lost another segment.

Four minutes.

A shriek of heated metal tore through the room as the second latch opened outward.

A brass tongue sprang from the wall and struck Mara’s forearm guard. Wet ventilation air rolled through the slot, carrying the bitter residue of respiratory stock. Behind the tongue, a black carrier the length of her hand shot along a toothed guide toward the return pipe.

“Carrier moving!” Pellin shouted.

The return wheel twisted against Tovan’s chain. Cassian’s lever slammed upward hard enough to split the skin across his palm. Beyond Pellin, the maintenance hatch shuddered under another blow.

The bay was testing every escape route.

“Rail down,” Mara ordered.

Cassian leaned over the lever. “It has initiated Office reclamation.”

“Then disappoint the Office.”

“My institution has endured harsher language.”

“Not while bleeding on my floor.”

Mara wrapped the carrier in heat cloth. It recoiled at once, dragging her glove toward the slot.

Across the glass, Elias’s fingers closed around the chair arms. The distance to the bay was less than twelve paces. His body began calculating before his judgment could stop it.

Sen pressed one hand onto his shoulder.

“Command from here,” she said.

“I am commanding.”

“You are measuring the walk.”

“I can do two things badly at once.”

The carrier snapped outward. Mara caught its rear ring, but the guide kept cycling beneath it, chewing through the cloth.

“Tovan. Clamp on my count.”

He dropped beside the slot with the evidence clamp open. “Ready.”

Overhead, the upper return branch pulsed.

The cassette answered from its cradle.

A second pulse followed, and the bay-access ledger began feeding a narrow ribbon through its glass throat. Black wax spread across the paper.

Cassian’s gaze fixed on the impression. “Board emergency continuity class.”

“Current?” Elias asked.

“The bay recognizes it as current. That does not establish who issued it or whether the Board authorized this use.”

Tovan recorded both statements.

Five fields emerged on the ribbon.

WARD SOURCE: E-2 RECEIVING BERTH: C-NINE CARE STATUS: TRANSFER IN PROGRESS DESTINATION RECIPIENT: MASKED LIVING RESPONSE REQUIRED

“Three minutes,” Pellin warned.

The carrier jerked sideways. Rather than contest its full force, Mara yielded half a handspan.

“Now.”

Tovan snapped the clamp behind the leading collar.

The carrier reversed. Sparks leapt as the clamp skidded across the floor, but its jaws held.

“Secured,” Tovan said through clenched teeth.

Mara planted one boot against the wall and hauled. Mechanical contractions dragged the carrier toward the upper branch. Smoke curled from the heat cloth around her gloves.

“Medical stop remains mine.”

“It remains yours,” Elias said.

Cassian drew a black access instrument from beneath his coat. “Reclamation will release the rail and withdraw the carrier unless the sequence is countermanded.”

“Can you do that?” Tovan asked.

“Alone.”

“No.”

The rail lever rose another finger-width beneath Cassian’s bleeding hand.

Tovan extended his free palm. “Instrument and sequence enter independent custody. Mara executes. I record. Rescuing the carrier does not make it yours.”

Cassian studied him for one beat, then surrendered the instrument.

“Outer ring twice. Center withheld. Route mark reversed. Board class declared under disputed living identity.”

The sequence went onto the slate before Tovan passed the instrument to Mara.

“Your institution will object,” she said.

“It objects professionally.”

“That was nearly a joke.”

“I have lost blood.”

Mara fitted the instrument into the latch while keeping her other hand on the carrier. Tovan aligned the clamp. Cassian forced the rail down until blood ran between his fingers.

“Execute,” Elias said.

Mara’s head turned.