Pori Halm painted `SEVENTY-EIGHT MINUTES` across her boiler window and drew a line beneath it with two wet fingers.
The walker held its right foot on the dead shell. Its left foot remained in Crossing Four soil. Neither recovery arm moved.
"A bridge with one release is another body," Kestrel said. "Give every load a person who can let go."
Tesk Arin studied the collapsed shell through his front glass. "Every load?"
"Every load that can drag somebody with it."
The shell lay across three different dangers. Its storage edge could fall through the two unfinished wall cuts beside seventy-six housed arrivals. Its crossing edge could pull the walker off red soil. A folded ridge near the middle covered the nearest lit room.
Farah refused a bridge name for the whole piece. She opened three equipment pages instead.
