She ducked into a side tunnel lit by weak amber strips and kept talking over her shoulder.

"Archive zone isn't a tower, by the way. Not really. Tower's a face. Intake sorting, memory wash, route control, old records, new lies, all braided through three levels and a spine drop. People from the soft gardens call anything sealed a tower. Makes them feel the problem is in one room." She shot him a look. "You planning to fix the whole age with one good theory?"

Elias said, "I was planning to find a way in."

Mara snorted softly. "There it is. Fool."

A burst of sound rolled through the wall to their right, heavy machinery cycling somewhere below. Mara put up a hand and they both stopped. The floor trembled once, then settled. Elias heard faint voices far off, then the clatter of something on rail. Patrol or work crew; he could not tell. Mara counted under her breath, then crossed the corridor at speed and waved him after her.

He made the dash, slower than she did. When he reached the far side, she caught his satchel strap and yanked him flat against the wall before a wash of white inspection light slid over the passage they'd just left. It passed on. His mouth had gone dry.

"That," she said quietly, "was close enough to matter."

Elias lowered his voice and said, "You could have mentioned patrol timing sooner."

Mara shot back, "You could have stayed in your garden."