The neighborhood awakens to the sound of boilers and cautious footsteps. The communal boiler receives coal and distributes heat throughout the courtyards. The windows are opaque with soot. On the ground floor of a worn-out house, there is a workshop: blankets on the table, screwdrivers lined up, a pocket watch in the center. The clock mechanism is two minutes slow.
Elena lights the small stove, measures out coffee, and organizes tools. She opens the watch with her thumb, observes the balance wheel, the flywheel that marks the ticking, and confirms the delay. The glass has a new scratch. She rubs it with a cloth. The scratch remains. She adjusts a hinge with wire. The cover closes with a click.
There is a knock on the doorframe. Mrs. Penhaligon appears with a piece of bread wrapped in paper.
"I brought bread," she says. "It's enough for today and this afternoon."
"Thank you. They asked for a check of the communal boiler. I heard a hissing sound."
Penhaligon looks at the street before sitting down.
"The airship will pass by today. They have inspections scheduled."
"I know," Elena replies. "I'll finish the valve and go to the boiler room."
"Did you sleep?"
"Enough."
She leaves the bread on the table.
"People are moving slowly because of the surveillance."
"You can tell by the schedules," Elena says. "Yesterday they brought the siren forward."
Penhaligon takes a sip of coffee and looks at his watch.
"You always have it handy."
"It was my mother's. It's been two minutes slow for years."
"I swept the hallway. The ash will be back in an hour. I'll sweep again," he gets up. "I'll stop by later."
Elena nods. Penhaligon leaves. The street receives the airship's loudspeaker. The voice announces inspections, blood checks, transit schedules. The workshop maintains a steady temperature.
A cold draft enters. Maud appears in the doorway. She has a red mark on her wrist.
"May I?" she asks.
"Come in."
Maud sits down. She looks at the mark.
"I have an appointment at the Registry. This week."
"What do you need?"
"I want to know what I lose if I don't go."
Elena puts her watch in her apron pocket. She spreads out a piece of paper and draws with a pencil.
"Direct route along the wide street. Patrol every fifteen minutes. Interior route through courtyards and passageways. Fewer patrols, more detours."
Maud follows the line with her finger.
"If I go, I get appointments, check-ins, lists."
"Yes."
"If I don't go, I get search and punishment."
"Also."
"Then I'll ask for something else," says Maud. "Walk me to the door. I'm not asking you to save me. I'm asking someone to walk with me to the threshold."
Elena looks at her for a moment.
"I'll go with you. I can't promise results."
"I'm looking for company, not results."
They remain silent. The stove clicks. The street smells of damp coal.
"Eat," says Elena, breaking bread. "There will be traffic mid-morning. You'd better go out through the courtyard."
"Thanks," Maud saves a piece. "I'll be back at noon. I want to practice the inner route."
"I'll be here."
Maud gets up. Before leaving, she looks at Elena's pocket.
"Do you have your watch?"
"Yes."
"Use it today," she says. "It will help you."
Maud leaves through the back. Elena cleans the edge of the portable boiler pressure gauge. She changes a gasket. She tests for leaks. The hissing stops. She notes the repair in a notebook.
Three knocks, a brief pause, and another knock sound at the door. A pattern of controlled haste. Elena opens the door. Jonas Vale stands in the doorway with his raincoat and notebook. His right arm, a prosthetic, has well-lubricated joints.
"Inspection brought forward to six o'clock," he says. "Includes blood and identification checks. He mentions watches.
"I've read similar announcements. Today they sound closer."
Jonas takes half a step inside. He looks at the table.
"I'm here for two reasons. One official. The other personal."
"Start with the official one."
"I'll check your workshop at 4 p.m. Just routine."
"Understood. And the personal one?"
Jonas takes a brass rosette out of his pocket. The piece shows signs of wear. Inside, it is engraved with the word "HARROW."
"I found it in a file belonging to Director Gray. Orphanage mansion. Prototype section."
Elena takes the rosette. It weighs just right.
"I know this type of piece," she says. "I work with people who use them."
"The rosette links your last name to Caldereros. I bring you a warning: today they will ask for your watch."
"I know."
"If you hand it over, you lose more than an object."
"What else?"
"An alibi," Jonas replies. "It's in your best interest to keep the watch here with you until you understand why they're asking for it."
Elena puts the rosette back on the table. She doesn't respond. The airship announces the time over the loudspeaker. It's eleven o'clock.
"I'll be back at four," Jonas says.
"I'll be here."
He leaves. The workshop is left with the rosette on the wood and the clock in his pocket. Elena opens her notebook, copies "4:00 p.m. — inspection," and closes it. She sorts M1, M2, and M2.5 screws. She checks an inspection moth that was brought in days ago: mica eye, loose shaft. She tightens the screw. It works.
A mail tube falls into the hallway with a thud. It rolls to the threshold. Elena picks it up. Inside is a teletype tape with a red stamp:
INSPECTION BLOCK 11 — TODAY 6:00 p.m. ATTENTION: HARROW, ELENA IDENTIFYING PIECE: WATCH ON-SITE BLOOD VERIFICATION
The stamp breaks on contact. The tape crinkles. Elena leaves it next to the rosette. Another tube arrives, shorter. Rough cardboard, simple string. The second tape shows clear letters:
ROSETTE HARROW = RESISTANT WATCH — RETENTION 6:00 PM — J
Elena looks at both strips. She takes a deep breath. She opens the watch. The scratch on the glass, under the side light, suggests a G. The image lasts a second. She closes the lid. She puts the two strips in the spare parts book, between M2 and M2.5.
Penhaligon appears again.
"I saw the courier with the tube," he says. "Everything okay?"
"Inspection at six," Elena replies. They'll ask me for the watch.
"Shall I walk you there later?"
"Jonas is coming at four. Then I'll go with Maud to the Registry. Walk us to the corner."
"Okay."
The neighbor looks at the table.
"What's that piece?"
"A rosette with my last name. It came from an archive."
"Put it away," says Penhaligon. "It's best to keep the table clean today."
He leaves. The workshop remains tidy. Elena prepares a bag of portable tools: a thin screwdriver, a magnifying glass, tweezers, a small Danish wrench, two gaskets, grease. She puts the watch in the inside pocket of her apron. She rehearses two routes to the communal boiler room. She checks the latch on the back door.
At 3:50 p.m., the airship's loudspeaker repeats the bulletin. The voice recites the same text about inspections and transit. Elena drinks water. At 4:00 p.m. sharp, Jonas returns. He methodically inspects the workshop, checks the stove, tools, valves, and takes notes.
"Everything's in order," he says. "At 6 p.m. there will be two guards at the door. If they ask questions, stick to technicalities. Nothing else."
"I'll stick to technicalities."
"The watch?"
"I have it."
"Good," Jonas hesitates for a moment. "If you need a statement, I'll make one."
"If you ask for it, we'll use it," Elena replies. "Thank you."
Jonas closes the notebook. He leaves. The door is ajar. The clock ticks steadily on the fabric. The light dims. Mrs. Penhaligon reappears with a coat.
"I'm going to the corner," she says. "The side streets are quiet."
Elena turns off the stove. She puts away the bag. She tucks the tapes between the pages of the spare notebook. She closes the workshop. The hallway smells of hot metal. On the street, the first guards appear around the block. The loudspeaker announces five o'clock. A Moth, a mechanical paper drone, prints another order and drops it on the ground. Elena picks it up.
PROPERTY OF THE MINISTRY SINCE APRIL 1 — CLOCK — IMMEDIATE DELIVERY
The paper weighs little. The date coincides with the day her mother died. Elena puts the order in her inside pocket, looks at her neighbor and the corner where Maud will appear in a few minutes. She adjusts the strap of her apron, calculates times, and takes a deep breath. At six o'clock, someone will ask for the watch. Before that time, there are still two blocks and a decision to make.