Chapter 988: The Seventh Clamp Finds Cava

The clamp on Todd’s wrist hauled him toward the oldest stake. Cava caught his belt before his shoulder struck the iron ring. His left hand hung palm-up inside the cuff, the Kavel half pressed into its crease. His right fist held the yoke tooth.

One cord ran from the cuff to the stake’s lower ring. Six more ran from the stake into the settlement walls. The nearest bowed plaster beside the Clinic Five speaking tube, rattling its bracket every time the pull tightened.

Each jerk twisted the cuff around Todd’s wrist. The clamp’s open jaw pivoted until its teeth faced the crown cuts on Cava’s shoulder. The cord dragged him toward her, and if the jaws caught that mark, the route would take a second address. Her ankle strap still tied her to the stake, though it had slipped to her heel. The damaged recovery jaw held the upper ring; Ruvan’s red belt crossed the lower one.

"Put your heel under the ring, Todd, or this stake will drag you with it."

Todd braced his boot against the iron. "I know where my heel goes, so tell me what I can hit without crushing my wrist."

Cava bent to study the clamp. She knew the corners and punch marks on Griswald’s return plates, not the latch beneath this jaw. The narrow gap might take one as a wedge. She had never opened a clamp under load.

The cord jerked and stole half a boot-length from Todd. Cava caught his belt before the pull dragged him into the stake, planting her bad heel harder against the ring. Each shift drew the strap across the skin above her boot. She kept the heel there.

Corven’s bent plate lay by the recall slot. Its crown stamp carried Griswald’s seventh account. Ruvan had cut Corven’s name into the packed dirt beside it; the brass named no worker.

Cava knocked twice against the speaking tube. Talli answered from Clinic Five.

"The cord at my end is pulling the tube bracket sideways; what has it caught on your side?"

"The matching cord came through our west wall and snagged the linen cart’s sheet; the wheels are dragging toward Bera’s cot, and the handle keeps jerking out of my hand."

"Ask Bera where she wants the cot, and wait for her answer before moving it."

Talli relayed the answer. "Bera wants the cot two feet toward the doorway; keep her waist belt fastened until the cot clears the doorway."

"Wait for her signal before moving, and keep the cord clear of her injured side."

"Move it now. My waist belt is fastened, and I’m ready," Bera said through the tube.

"I heard you, Bera; I’m moving the cot two feet toward the doorway," Talli said.

Cava heard the cot wheels cross a floor seam through the tube. At the next pull, the cuff twisted against Todd’s wrist; his belt jerked against Cava’s knuckles.

"This stamp ties Corven to the account; under the catch, the brass will split," Cava said.

"Use the plate. I can’t keep my wrist in this cuff while we guess what Ruvan wants," Todd said.

She took the plate from beside the slot. On freight crews, she changed addresses from the safe end. There had always been another set of hands between her and the load. Todd’s wrist had gone raw inside the cuff.

At the safe end, she held plates with both hands and kept a clear floor between herself and the cart. Ruvan waited on the far side of the raised maintenance gate, recall knife in hand. Todd’s cuff clicked each time he tried to turn his wrist. Cava set the brass edge against the catch and checked the angle once. Her fingers could no longer feel how close they were to the teeth.

"Keep your trapped fingers loose while I test the catch with Corven’s plate."

"They aren’t cooperating, but I’ll keep them clear of the teeth."

Cava slid the bent edge beneath the outer catch and pushed until the brass held. Her thumb pinned one corner. The two numb fingers hovered above the plate, unable to feel how close they were to the edge. The clamp bit down. Todd stopped sliding, but the cord kept pulling.

He fed the yoke tooth between the plate and the jaw. The clamp kicked against it. Todd turned his wrist away from the teeth; the metal scraped his sleeve and split the cloth along his forearm.

Cava shifted her palm to hold the plate square as its stamped corner buckled. The long cut bent out of line beneath her thumb. "The plate is folding under my thumb; one more push will break my hand."

"Todd, keep the tooth steady while I lift the catch and give your wrist room to turn."

She found a fraction of movement under the clamp and levered the plate. The outer catch rose just enough for Todd to twist. A tooth raked his wrist; his sleeve bunched in the gap, then the jaw shut before his hand cleared.

The brass split through the crown stamp. One half wedged under the catch; the other struck the packed earth beside Ruvan’s recall slot. Cava pulled at the hinge, but the catch snapped back into its notch and tightened the cuff. The cord jerked Todd toward the post before she could free either piece. She got her fist back into his belt.

The speaking tube rattled in Cava’s hand. At the clinic end, a wheel struck a floor seam.

"Bera’s cot is clear; she wants the sheet cut, and I’ve got the shears."

"Cut the sheet at the cart, step clear when it rolls, and leave the doorway open."

A snip carried through the tube, then the sheet tore loose. A cart wheel cracked against the Clinic Five wall. Talli called through the tube, "The rear wheel broke, and the cord came free." Cava saw the cord slide through the plaster seam and draw tight. The stake’s lower ring kicked sideways toward Clinic Five. The clamp twisted against the trapped plate half, shifting its outer catch without freeing Todd’s wrist. The crosswise yoke tooth bent at its square end, and Todd pulled it free with his good hand.

"The tooth bent in the jaw; I’m using it once more before it fails."

Cava watched the stake tilt. Ruvan’s belt tightened around the lower ring as the damaged recovery jaw shifted on the upper one. Its single good tooth began to climb out. If it slipped, the post would roll toward the wall cord.

She hooked her heel beneath the jaw’s handle and shoved its tooth back onto the ring. The jaw held. Her ankle strap pulled taut across her heel.

"Set the square end under the catch; I’ll hold the ring with my heel, then give you the nod."

Todd passed her the bent tooth. Cava fitted its square end beneath the catch, clear of his wrist, then leaned into the recovery jaw. The belt creaked around the lower ring as the post ground against her heel.

Once her heel held the jaw in place, Cava nodded. He bore down. The catch lifted against her brace and opened the cuff wide enough for his knuckles. He rolled his hand free; metal cut a thin line across his wrist before releasing him.

The clamp snapped shut on the broken plate; its cord slackened, but all six wall lines remained tight. The Clinic Five strand still pulled at the plaster beside the tube.

Todd’s injured hand curled halfway around the Kavel half and stopped. Cava pulled the bent tooth free and pressed it into his good hand.

"Tuck the tooth under your belt so your right hand stays free."

He tucked the tooth under his belt, leaving the Kavel half in his other palm.

Ruvan came through beneath the raised maintenance gate with his recall knife. He stopped beside Todd and looked at the cut across his wrist before turning to the clamp. The plate halves were still caught at different angles; he eased the wedged one free with the knife’s spine. He set both pieces beside Corven’s name in the dirt, fitted the broken stamp together once, then left the pieces apart. The knife point snagged on a pebble when he traced the letters deeper, and he moved the stone before finishing the last stroke.

The tube clicked. Talli’s voice came through. "Bera’s cot is clear. She wants the linen cart left where it broke until we can brace the wall."

One of the six wall cords rasped over packed dirt, dragging its brass tag toward the maintenance gate. The stamped face showed one long cut, six short marks, and a chipped crown. Cava recognized Griswald’s seventh-account mark. Todd reached for the tag with his injured hand; Cava caught his sleeve before he could grab the taut cord. It kept sliding and pulled the tag beneath the raised gate Ruvan had ducked under.

Ruvan crouched beside the raised gate. Cava could see only the taut cord disappearing beneath its stone sill.

"The stamp tells us whose account, not where this line ends," he said.

The cord’s next pull dragged the lower ring toward the gate. The stake rolled across Cava’s ankle strap and pinned the knot against the yard stones. She pulled her heel back; the knot tightened against the stones and held her there. Cava shoved the recovery jaw back against the ring. As the stake turned, the recovery jaw’s last tooth rode up the ring’s curve.