Page 86 of Pocket Wife

“I know.”

The bond holds between us, taut and bright.

On the slate, Adjudicator Salo’s voice cuts through static. “Miss Hartwell, the tribunal has ordered all Helix craft to hold position.”

“They are not holding,” I say.

Ahead, the north ridge comes into view.

So do the ships.

Three Helix transports hover low over the cistern field, their landing lights turning old stone white. Security officers have formed a perimeter around the cistern ring. A corporate engineer stands at the handwheel beneath a portable canopy, one gloved hand resting on a control panel fixed to the wooden cover.

A faint green pulse blinks beneath the engineer’s control panel.

There and gone before I can name it.

My stomach turns cold.

The old north cistern is not grand. A moss-dark ring of stone. A rusted rail. Blue prayer threads tied by children and elders. But beneath it lies the emergency reserve that feeds the clinic tanks, the school pumps, and the drought channels when the river runs low.

Helix is not only touching evidence.

It is touching water.

Torren slams the crawler to a stop before the perimeter.

I jump down before Rethan can offer a hand. Pain fires through my side. I ignore it and lift the tribunal slate high.

“This is Lucy Hartwell, resident representative of Solaris Valley. Helix craft are at the north cistern in violation of tribunal hold order.”

The lead officer turns. “This site is under emergency environmental stabilization.”

Rethan comes to stand at my shoulder. “On whose authority?”

“Corporate environmental compliance.”

“Corporate authority does not supersede a tribunal hold.”

“It does when infrastructure failure threatens safety.”

I study the cistern. Nothing smokes. Nothing leaks. The blue threads barely move in the dawn wind. “There was no failure until you arrived.”

The engineer at the handwheel does not raise his head.

Rethan’s voice goes quiet. “Step away from the cover.”

The officer ignores him. “All residents must clear the field. Interference with stabilization may result in detention.”

The crowd behind me draws closer.

I lift one hand without turning. “Nobody crosses the line.”

The order ripples backward. Feet stop. Carts creak. Someone begins crying, quietly and angrily. Nara stands near the front with her son wrapped against her chest, her face gray with fear. Celia leans on Samuel, bandaged arm pressed tight to her side, eyes fixed on the cistern as if Helix has put hands on her grandmother again.

Jessa raises the witness feed.

Screens from Stonebend, Lark Hollow, and Tamsin Ford open one by one.