Litany of Winter

Rafael did not answer Neumann. He leaned over the rail instead.

”Bennett, condition below?”

Thomas looked to the place Anna had left beside the woman. ”Still breathing. Shallow.”

”Do not move her until Richter gets back. Weber, don’t touch anything else, and Keller, stay where people can find you.”

Martin, still stranded beyond the marked water, raised both hands. ”Gladly.”

”Peters, from now on, only log changes. Hoffmann, I want the witness’s exact words, not what we think they mean. LeBlanc stays with the dead man.”

Nobody argued.

Severin crouched beside the stretcher. Water still poured through the maintenance passage he had tried to use, though the level had stopped rising. Thomas kept one hand on the casualty’s shoulder to hold her on her side.

The woman’s breathing rasped against the brick, and Severin looked up.

From the lower gallery, the underside of the pump floor was a mess of iron beams and grated panels. He had already seen most of it without paying attention. Now one section above the valve assembly caught him. The frame around it was heavier than the rest, and the bolts did not match. Two were broad pins with ring handles instead of fixed heads.

A thick lifting chain hung beyond the opening.

He traced it upward. It disappeared through the grating beside a black iron beam polished smooth along its lower edge.

Severin stood and reached for one of the pins, but his hand stopped short.

”Rafael.”

Montoro appeared at the rail again. ”What?”

Severin pointed overhead. ”That section comes out. I think they lifted pump parts through here.”

Thomas looked up and studied the frame.

”What makes you think that?” Rafael asked.

”The pins. And the beam.” Severin moved beneath it and pointed again. ”Look at the edge. Loads wore it smooth. We used the same sort of thing in freight sheds when something was too heavy for the stairs.”

Thomas braced both hands against one corner, then followed the chain toward a geared block mounted above.

”Maybe,” he said. ”Not with this hook.”

Rafael asked, ”What do you need?”

”A sling. Two if we’ve got them. And I want to see the top before anyone pulls those pins.”

”I’ll check it.”

Severin glanced toward the flooded passage, then back to Rafael. ”If it opens onto the pump floor, we can lift her straight up.”

”If it opens safely,” Rafael said.

Severin nodded. ”If.”

Rafael disappeared from the rail as Anna came back down the eastern stair a minute later, breathing harder than before.

”How is she?”

”Same,” Thomas said. ”We found another way out. Maybe.”

Anna dropped beside the casualty and checked her again. ”Then nobody moves her until we know it works.”

Martin shouted from across the contaminated gallery. ”Montoro wants me at the east stair.”

”Go,” Severin called.

Martin looked at the water between them. ”I know that part.”

He disappeared up the eastern stair.

Rafael returned above the removable grating with Paul and Martin. Johann remained near the entrance where he could see the wall clock. Andreas came over from the witness and crossed behind them.

Paul knelt near the chain block but kept his hands off it.

”Opening’s dry,” Rafael called down. ”Pump floor around it is clear, and Weber says the chain runs outside the contaminated line.”

Thomas squinted at the block. ”Chain’s old.”

”It’s rated for eight hundred kilograms,” Paul said.

”Can it take the stretcher?” Rafael asked.

”Chain can. Hook can’t. Too narrow, and if the stretcher swings we lose her.”

Anna looked up from the woman. ”She stays level. No hanging her by the ends.”

Thomas nodded once. ”We rig underneath.”

Rafael turned. ”Keller, stores. Two lifting slings, rope, anything marked for load work. Peters, note it. Nothing moves until he’s back.”

Martin ran for the stores.

Andreas stopped beside Rafael. ”Witness says he saw one worker go behind the western pump before he heard a fall. That is all he actually saw. He never saw either worker near the object.”

Madeleine, still kneeling beside the dead casualty on the catwalk, looked across the chamber. ”Then we’ve been treating them as connected just because they happened in the same room.”

Rafael looked toward the valve-room doorway. ”Good. Keep them separate.”

Severin watched the exchange from below. The odd object was still there somewhere beyond the brick partition. One dead man, one breathing woman, contaminated water, a passage the rest of the team had not known about in time. Enough had already gone wrong without deciding the object had caused any of it.

Martin returned with two broad canvas slings and a coil of rope.

Thomas made Rafael lower both slings through the grating before touching the pins. Then Thomas and Severin fed them beneath the stretcher frame, one under the shoulders and one below the knees. Anna checked where the canvas crossed the casualty and moved the upper sling lower by a handspan.

”Not there,” she said. ”You’ll compress her chest.”

Thomas shifted it.

”Again.”

Thomas shifted it again.

Anna pressed two fingers beneath the webbing and nodded. Thomas ran the rope through the sling loops and showed Severin how to tie the ends into a bridle for the hook.

Above them, Paul took the chain block while Martin positioned himself where he could see Rafael and the opening. Johann moved close enough to hear Martin without abandoning the clock. Andreas cleared the lifting area, and Madeleine remained with the upper casualty.

”Nothing changes without being repeated back,” Rafael said. ”Weber?”

”Chain stays still until you order it.”

”Keller?”

”I repeat every change back.”

”Bennett?”

Thomas looked up. ”We don’t lift until I say the rig is taking evenly.”

”Richter?”

”If I say stop, stop the lift and keep her level.”

Rafael’s gaze found Severin last. ”Hale?”

Severin tightened the knot Thomas had shown him. ”I keep the front from swinging.”

”Anything else you’re seeing?”

It took Severin a second to realize Rafael meant it.

”The stretcher will catch that pipe if it rises straight.” He pointed at a dead line crossing the opening. ”Needs the head turned toward me first.”

Thomas checked it from below.

”Right. Quarter turn before the lift.”

Rafael nodded. ”Do it.”

The pins came out one at a time. The grating panel rose under two sets of hands and scraped across the pump floor. Rust fell through the opening in thin flakes.

Paul lowered the hook. Thomas seated the rope bridle in it and pulled the slack out by hand.

”Take weight.”

Martin repeated it to Paul. ”Take weight.”

Paul worked the chain block until the slings tightened.

The stretcher frame creaked.

”Stop.”

Martin echoed Thomas immediately. ”Stop.”

The chain went still, and Thomas crouched to check both slings. The lower one had shifted toward the casualty’s knees.

Anna touched the woman’s neck. ”Move that strap back.”

Severin and Thomas reset it. Nobody complained about the lost seconds.

”Take weight again.”

The chain clicked. Canvas tightened. This time the stretcher rose cleanly from the floor.

Severin kept both hands on the front frame. The load wanted to rotate toward the pipe.

”Turn her toward me.”

Thomas pushed from the other end. Severin guided the stretcher through the quarter turn until the frame cleared the pipe by less than a palm.

Above, boots scraped against grating.

”Half a metre,” Rafael called.

Martin repeated it. ”Half a metre.”

Paul pulled, and the casualty rose past Severin’s chest.

Anna moved with her as far as she could, fingers at the woman’s wrist. ”Stop.”

Martin repeated it, and Paul answered, ”Stopped.”

Anna leaned in, and for several seconds nobody moved.

Then she said, ”Continue. Slow.”

The stretcher climbed, and Severin released it only when Thomas told him to. Rafael and Andreas caught the frame before it could swing against the opening and dragged it onto the pump floor while Anna took the eastern stair at a run.

By the time Severin climbed after her, she was already beside the woman again, checking that she was still breathing.

Thomas hauled himself through the service opening last and sat on the edge for one breath before Rafael pointed at the grating.

”Put it back.”

Thomas laughed once without much humor. ”Of course.”

They replaced the panel.

Paul stood near the old control wheel. ”Diversion?”

Rafael looked to Martin.

Martin looked down through the rail. ”Lower gallery clear. Service opening closed. Hale and Bennett are up. Richter is with the casualty.”

Rafael looked to Paul. ”Repeat what you’re changing.”

”I’m closing the diversion I opened. That should stop water from entering the maintenance channel. The western feed stays where it is.”

”Do it.”

Paul closed the wheel, and the rush behind the wall weakened.

Anna stayed with the second casualty while the rest returned to what remained of the exercise. Paul tested the approaches to the valve room from the dry side. Andreas repeated the witness statement to Johann word for word. Madeleine came down from the catwalk after Neumann told her she could leave the dead casualty and stood beside Rafael at the valve-room entrance.

The unusual object sat on the floor inside, a fist-sized iron cylinder wrapped in stained cloth.

Paul tested the stone around it before anyone crossed the doorway. ”No training agent here.”

Madeleine pointed at a dragged mark beside the cloth. ”That could be from the object, or from whoever moved it.”

Andreas shook his head. ”Witness never said he saw anyone move it.”

Rafael looked at Severin, who glanced from the western pump to the object before answering.

”The worker went behind the western pump. That’s where the service door is.”

”And not where this is,” Rafael said.

”No.”

Rafael had Paul mark the safe approach. Andreas made Johann record the object’s position before Paul placed a numbered marker beside it. Nobody opened the cloth or decided what it had done.

Neumann let them work until the second casualty was carried through the main exit and the evidence route had been marked.

Then he raised one hand. ”Exercise over.”

Severin wiped rust from his palms onto his trousers. The dead casualty was still lying on the catwalk.

Neumann looked at the Nine. ”Leave the scene as it is. Collect your personal kit only.”

Martin glanced toward the incident book. ”Debrief?”

”Later.”

Neumann pointed toward the corridor. ”Classroom. Separate desks. You will each write an account before you discuss the exercise with one another.”

Severin looked at Johann’s neat pages beside the entrance, then at the pencil tucked behind his own ear.

He would have preferred another flooded passage.