Chapter 37 — Nineteen Minutes
Senka took Priya back to the stair where she had abandoned her.
The Canon itself was gone. Only its extracted stair remained, fixed inside the lower archive as evidence.
It rose fourteen steps from the floor and stopped beneath a painted sky.
Priya stood at the bottom.
Senka climbed halfway, using the wooden thumb on her right hand to steady herself against the railing.
"You left from here," Senka said.
"You told me to."
"Yes."
"You keep saying abandoned."
"It gets your attention."
"It makes the record inaccurate."
"That is why we are here."
Lio Fen waited near the archive gate with his slate lowered. He had been chosen to confirm Priya’s name, not follow every conversation.
Mira remained on the witness roster but was not present.
Priya’s hand-engraved badge pressed against her skin.
The gate behind them displayed:
PRIYA ODHIAMBO.
Stable.
For now.
Senka placed her lunch bowl on the ninth step.
"You remember the report?"
"Collapsed transit structure. Two trapped personnel. One exit route."
"Three trapped personnel."
Priya looked up.
Senka sat.
"Me. You. Nale."
"Nale was local support."
"Nale was a person."
"I know."
"The report did not."
Priya climbed the first step.
The stair vibrated beneath her boot.
A memory travelled through the extracted structure.
Stone breaking.
A painted sky folding into the walls.
Senka holding a support beam while Priya ran toward the crossing.
A young local porter beneath the lower landing.
Nale.
Priya remembered his face.
She did not remember him leaving.
"What happened to him?" she asked.
Senka stared at her.
"That is the reason I stopped answering your letters."
"I sent three."
"You sent seven."
Priya looked at Lio.
He said, "Identity-witness procedures do not include correspondence counts."
"Good."
Senka scraped food from the side of her bowl.
"You returned with a brace after nineteen minutes. You extracted me. The report lists no local casualties."
"I did not write that section."
"You signed it."
Priya’s jaw tightened.
"I had a concussion."
"I had lost a thumb."
"That is not a competition."
"No. I won."
The answer was too dry to be Toby’s. Senka ate another spoonful.
Priya climbed higher.
On the eighth step, her surname flickered at the gate.
Lio said, "Odhiambo."
It steadied.
Senka did not repeat it.
Priya noticed.
"You are one of my anchors."
"I am also at lunch."
"The procedure requires availability."
"It requires contactability. It does not require me to become a public utility."
Priya stopped beside her.
Senka’s wooden thumb had been carved with tiny archive numbers. Each marked a record she had corrected.
"What do you want?"
"The original field strip reopened."
"For Nale?"
"For Nale and Esrin."
Priya frowned. "Who is Esrin?"
"Second porter."
"No."
"Yes."
"There was one."
"That is what the report says."
Senka set the bowl down.
"I remember two."
Priya reached automatically for total attention.
The suspension seals burned beneath her sleeves.
She stopped before the ability opened.
Lio saw the movement.
He did not record it.
Senka looked at Priya’s wrists.
"You cannot check me."
"Not safely."
"Good."
"That is not good."
"It is for this conversation."
Priya sat on the step below her.
"Why now?"
"Because your name started falling out of the registry."
"That is unrelated."
"It reminded me records are only as permanent as the people permitted to correct them."
"You could have filed without me."
"I did."
"What happened?"
"They cited your signed report."
Priya looked at the painted sky.
The old commendation had advanced her career. Successful emergency extraction. Rapid field judgment. Preservation of editorial personnel under collapse.
No local casualties.
If Senka was right, the commendation stood on missing people.
"If I reopen it, they may suspend the award," Priya said.
"I assumed you would survive."
"They may review my conduct."
"Yes."
"You expected me to agree immediately?"
"I expected you to become defensive. You have been efficient."
Priya almost laughed.
It hurt her ribs.
Senka slid a metal record strip across the stair.
REQUEST FOR HISTORICAL CORRECTION.
Priya could sign. Her writing privileges had not been removed. Only her field use and attention remained suspended.
She read the request.
It did not accuse her of murder.
It stated:
Personnel accounts conflict regarding the number of local support workers present during the Kestrel Stair collapse.
The official record may be incomplete.
Independent inquiry requested.
Priya took the stylus.
Her surname flickered at the gate again.
This time Senka said it.
"Odhiambo."
Priya signed.
The stair shook.
A loose stone beneath the seventh step opened.
Inside lay a small brass name tag.
NALE.
No tag for Esrin.
Senka picked it up.
"I put this there before extraction."
"You hid evidence?"
"I preserved a name after your team began sealing the Canon."
"That was still evidence."
"Yes."
"You should have reported it."
"I did not trust the report."
Priya looked at her.
There was no clean side to stand on.
Lio approached only after the tag had been placed inside an archive sleeve.
"Does the identity procedure require adding Archivist Senka’s historical dispute?" he asked.
"No," Priya said.
Senka answered at the same time.
"Yes."
They looked at each other.
Lio waited.
Senka said, "I do not want my witness statement treated as proof that Priya and I trust each other."
Priya nodded.
"Record that."
Lio did.
The archive gate displayed her full name.
The empty ODHIAMBO classification did not appear.
Priya watched Senka carry the preserved tag toward processing.
"You remembered two porters," she said.
Senka stopped.
"Yes."
"Why preserve only Nale’s name?"
Senka looked at the brass sleeve.
"Because I remembered Esrin after your name split."
Priya felt cold despite the archive heat.
"You think my injury created the memory?"
"I think your injury made me question which record had been deciding what I remembered."
"That is not evidence."
"No."
Senka continued toward the desk.
"That is why I need you alive, suspended, and annoyed."