The drainage report cleared by mid-morning. Halden signed off on it after a quick review of the marked section, and the maintenance office scheduled a follow-up crew for the following week.
That left Squad 7 with an afternoon that had nothing on it.
Drake went to the armory to check his shield. Kara followed him because she wanted to argue about something — James didn't catch what. Luna went to the healing gardens. Xander took his notebook to the archive steps, which is where he'd been going lately when he wanted to be alone without being alone.
James finished his rotation report, submitted it, and walked back to the barracks.
---
The barracks were empty.
He stood in the doorway for a moment. The room was quiet in a way it usually wasn't — no Drake unlacing his boots, no Kara complaining, no Luna mending something, no Xander turning pages.
He sat down on his bunk.
The 90Hz hum was low today. It sat behind his right eye, a dull pressure that had become as familiar as the weight of his own arm. He didn't think about it. He just noticed that the room was easier to be in than usual.
He looked at the wall. The plaster had a hairline crack near the corner — he'd noticed it the first day they'd been assigned here, and it hadn't moved since. He knew exactly how much load it was carrying and exactly how much more it could take before it started to spread. He didn't need to look at it with his right eye. The information was just there.
He closed both eyes.
---
Twenty minutes.
He didn't know what to do with them.
He considered going to the training yard. He considered finding Drake. He considered walking to the eastern service road to see if the marked section had been picked up yet. All of those were things he could do, none of them were things he needed to do.
He stayed where he was.
He heard footsteps outside — someone crossing the yard, not in a hurry. He heard a door open somewhere down the corridor. He heard the wind moving through the eaves.
His right eye opened on its own.
The room resolved into structural lines — the beams, the joists, the load paths running down through the walls into the foundation. He could see where the barracks had settled over the years and where it hadn't. He could see that the bench leg was holding. He could see that the crack in the plaster was stable.
He closed the eye again.
---
He thought about standing up. He didn't.
He thought about the drainage channel — the bank that had been too unstable to clear. The maintenance crew would handle it. There was nothing else for him to do there.
He thought about Drake's shoulder. It had been bothering him more since 120. He didn't say anything about it, but he'd been shifting his weight differently. James had noticed.
He thought about Kara. She'd eaten less at breakfast than usual. Not much less. But enough that he'd noticed.
He thought about Luna's hands. They'd been cold yesterday when she was working the soil. She hadn't mentioned it. Neither had he.
He thought about Xander. Something was still sitting in his notebook that he hadn't written down. James didn't know what. He just knew Xander had been quieter than usual.
He thought about all of those things at once, the way he always did.
He didn't think about himself.
---
The door opened. Drake came in, shield over his shoulder.
"You're still here."
"Yeah."
"Thought you'd be at the yard."
"Didn't feel like it."
Drake set the shield against the wall and sat down on his bunk. He started unlacing his boots.
"Kara's still arguing with the armorer about something," he said. "I left."
James didn't answer.
Drake looked over at him. "You okay?"
"Yeah."
"You've been sitting here the whole time?"
"Yeah."
Drake looked at him for a moment. Then he went back to his boots.
"Okay," he said.
He didn't press. He didn't ask again. He just finished unlacing his boots, lay back on his bunk, and stared at the ceiling.
James stayed where he was.
The hum was still low. The crack in the wall was still stable. The afternoon light was moving slowly across the floor.
He didn't stand up. He didn't need to.
He just sat there.