Chapter 991: Below the Last Mark

A vertical brace bolted beside Tower Five’s lower service hatch climbed into the ward rail. Seven taps moved up the iron, and Ty’s loose rib knocked against Nessa’s marked plate with each beat. Bed six’s wheel skidded against its wheel cup; Tressa caught the breathing hose before the cot could drag it across the old woman’s face.

The pulse shook her right wrist inside its cage. Blood slicked the split glove around her missing little finger; she closed her left hand around the plate and kept it against Ty’s rib.

"If I loosen this strap, bed six rolls. The hose wound around her throat last time," Tressa said. She kept one hand on the hose and the other on Ty’s buckle.

Jade had Ty’s skull and chest against her shoulder, his pelvis gathered against her hip. His right hand still held the grooved rib at the rail. "I’ll take Ty’s hand and rib if you keep the strap end in the wheel cup."

The strap’s loop crossed Ty’s lower rib groove; its loose end rested in the wheel cup beneath bed six’s axle. The buckle lay between them.

Nessa asked, "Ty, I need the plate out from under your fingers. Do you want me to lift it once Jade has your rib?"

His jaw chain clicked against Jade’s hand. "Lift the plate once Jade has my rib, and leave my foot alone until I ask."

Jade slid her palm beneath his wrist. She set her shoulder more firmly under his chest, then laid the grooved rib across her forearm. Ty’s fingers stayed curled around it. Nessa waited until Jade nodded before easing the plate from beneath them.

The suit tightened once around her wrist. Nessa held the plate inside her pulse cage, its marked edge pinned beneath her thumb.

Tressa slipped the strap loop from the rib. The lower end stayed in the wheel cup. Bed six rolled the width of a nail before the cup caught its tire. The old woman’s hose hung slack again.

Ty tightened his fingers around the rib. "My foot’s still in the measure, and I want it clear before we go."

White pressure still cinched Ty’s right ankle inside Dimitri’s outer measure. Across the ward, his wheel-cut rib remained beneath Dimitri’s wrist band. Jade shifted her hip before Ty’s pelvis slipped.

"Can you pull your right foot free if I hold your chest?" Jade asked.

"Give my knee room; I can’t draw my heel up against your hip," Ty said.

Jade braced his chest against her shoulder. Ty drew up his knee and pulled his heel toward him. Pressure cinched his shin at the measure’s edge. He held there, jaw chain taut, then drove his foot across. The old crack opened over his ankle. It closed as his heel cleared the ring; the pressure stayed behind at the boundary.

Jade’s shoulder dropped under the added weight. She reset before his pelvis slipped. Ty turned his skull away from Dimitri.

Tressa checked the strap’s loose end in the wheel cup, then checked the old woman’s breathing. "Tower Five’s lower service mouth reaches Two Down if the freight rail still holds. Take the rail and stay off the cord until you know what it holds."

Nessa felt the seven beats again, weaker through the marked plate. The spacing matched West Four’s field fingers and blue cage arc, enough to make her inspect the source.

"I’m going down to find the source. If it’s West Four hardware, I’ll verify the marks before anyone takes it," Nessa said.

Jade glanced at Ty’s rib. "It moved with the taps. I want the route clear before I carry him any farther."

"If the marks don’t match, we leave them here. I won’t carry a guess back to Vessa," Nessa said.

One hinge had pulled free of the service door. Jade nudged it inward with her knee, but Ty’s chest caught on the frame. She backed out, raised his shoulder, and turned him until his sternum cleared. Nessa went ahead to the landing.

The freight stair ended at a grating with a strip of dust rubbed away along one edge. Beneath it, water ran toward the lower dock; the iron brace continued through the opening.

Nessa rested two fingers on the grating. Seven taps climbed through the iron; she lifted her hand, but the vibration continued under the tread. The brace ran below the lip and into Tower Five’s lower service mouth.

"Could that current drag a person toward the hole?" Jade asked.

"I don’t know yet. Keep your back to the stone while I test the rail before anyone steps off it," Nessa said.

Ty shifted the chain away from his teeth. "Keep my hand on your forearm while I test each tread."

Jade took the steps sideways, shoulder under his chest, hip under his pelvis, his hand and rib balanced across her forearm. Ty pressed his right foot to each tread before committing his weight. At the next landing, the floor shivered under Nessa’s free hand.

Two Down’s dock lay beneath Griswald’s account floor. Four black plates held the street overhead. The clinic bridge hung from a separate chain, clear of them. The cord crossed the dock and ran through a guide worn bright on one side.

Water ran east past the guide; dust slid toward the unnumbered hole. An iron support disappeared beneath the last migration mark, bolted into the rail beside the cord’s path. The seven knocks came up through that support, and the cord tapped the guide at the same intervals.

On the last knock, Nessa’s suit turned her injured right wrist toward the cord before her shoulder followed. She caught the guide with her left hand, but the pull twisted her right wrist against the iron and split that glove. She let go before the suit could close her fingers around the cable, clamped her left hand around her forearm, and hauled until the Vale tissue loosened. Her wrist came free crooked, glove split wider.

Jade kept Ty clear of the guide. "Did the twist take your grip off that hand completely?"

Nessa held the wrist against her ribs. "I can’t trust my right hand on the rail. I’ll keep left on it and take the steps last."

Three iron rungs descended below the last migration mark. The first lower tooth on the guide bore a fresh wrench scrape. Chalk dust clung to a crack above it; a wedge had been reset there, and the chalk had split but held.

Jade tested the first rung with her boot. She turned sideways and braced her back against the shaft wall while Ty found the next one. The second rung rolled under his right foot. Jade’s back struck the shaft; her hip held his pelvis while Ty waited for the pull to shift. When the rung settled, he moved to the third. Nessa used the rail with her left hand and lowered herself one step behind them.

At the bottom, a washer slid uphill across a narrow shelf. Jade planted her boot between it and Ty’s hand. His grooved rib lay across her forearm, still clear of the cord.

Two runner tracks ran from the lower stair mouth to a low iron frame. Their spacing matched the relocation wagon’s rear axle; the grooves ended beneath its lower forks. Two stamped fingers were wedged there. One carried West Four’s double maintenance punch. Blue roof paint clung beneath the second’s nail; both inner faces were polished flat from bearing the wagon’s rear corners.

She had left those two pieces under the wagon to free the carriers. Vey made her repeat the recovery order while the gaps still showed in her armor; the nails had flexed whenever workers changed pressure. The frame had carried them here.

Nessa lowered herself beside them. "Vessa still has the third in her livestock keeper cup."

Jade kept Ty’s rib clear of the frame. "The cord runs under that crossbar; if it tightens, the two pieces are next in line."

The live cord vanished beneath both forks and looped around a crossbar behind the rig. Water dragged east, but the bar rotated against it, pressing the two field fingers deeper. The cord crossed the near shelf between Nessa and the closer finger. She stayed against the wall and tested the stone with her left palm; once the edge held, she moved that hand to the rail. Her left hand had to hold her above the cord. She risked the injured right to reach the nearer finger.

Her marked black plate struck the wrist cage; Vale tissue drove her injured forearm into the shelf before her fingers could close.

Ty’s hand and rib jerked toward the frame. Jade planted her boot and took the pull through her forearm, jaw chain clear of the iron. Nessa’s left hand skated off the rail as one field finger slipped beneath the retaining lip and jammed against the next tooth.

The other finger stayed caught above it. The cord kept turning; Nessa tried to lift her right hand, but the suit held it flat against the shelf.

The cord took another notch. The jammed finger bit deeper into the tooth, and the trapped glove stretched across Nessa’s palm.