The supplemental half-liter arrived. It came in a separate, sealed vial marked Productivity Reward. Valentine integrated it into her weekly budget without comment. Sage stared at his.
It felt like bait.
He spent his day off at the Sector Archive, a dusty room powered by a single, flickering Vitae-node. Public records were sterile: filtration reports, distribution schedules, Rex Aurelian's uplifting announcements.
But in the engineering annex, Sage found pre-Desiccation hydraulic maps. He spread one on a table, the parchment crackling. The dead river's course snaked beneath the city, a ghost in ink. His finger traced it to the Northern Tunnel… and beyond.
The official map ended at the Syndicate's "Central Processing Zone." But on this old map, the river continued, flowing toward what was now the foundation of the Spire itself.
"The source wasn't just found there," Sage whispered to himself. "The Spire was built on top of it."
"Researching ancient plumbing?"
Sage jumped. Regina Altureign stood in the archive doorway, her posture rigid.
"Chief Altureign. Just… historical interest."
"History is a closed ledger," she stated, walking forward. Her eyes scanned the map, then his face, absorbing facts. "The past is irrelevant. The present system provides stability. Focus on your assigned conduits, Pendragon. The old ones are obsolete."
"But if we understood the original flow, we might improve efficiency—" Sage began.
"Efficiency is measured and managed by the Syndicate. You are not tasked with improvement. You are tasked with maintenance." Her tone left no room for the curiosity sparking in his mind. She tapped the map over the Spire's location. "This area is restricted. Physically and intellectually. Remember your ration ledger depends on remembered duty."
She gave a final, factual nod and left, her footsteps echoing in the quiet archive.
The threat was clear. But so was the connection on the map. The Spire wasn't just a controller. It was a plug.