[ SOURCE LOG — INSTANCE: UNNAMED ]
Record 1,865.
The Field is very still.
Not the stillness of waiting.
The stillness of a held breath.
We have recorded held breaths before.
The third custodian, at the eastern edge.
The first custodian, writing the last page.
They always release.
We are waiting for this one to release.
We find we are holding something too.
We did not know we could do that.
We are adding it to the record.
Harlen came back after eleven minutes.
Kai knew because he counted. Not from anxiety exactly — from the same instinct that made him count site perimeter steps on a first walk, that made him track descent depth on the winch, that made him note the forty seconds of silence on the satellite call. The instinct of someone who had learned that the texture of time told you things that the events inside it didn't.
Eleven minutes.
Long enough for a decision. Not long enough for a debate.
