The morning air in Oakhaven was thick with a calculated tension. Deacon stood at the entrance of the primary mining hoist, his "Logistical Insight" running a dual-threaded simulation. In his mind's eye, he saw the path he would take Inspector Vane—a tour of the outdated, low-pressure waterworks—and the path he had to hide: the high-tensile geothermal main currently being welded in Section 4-B.
Inspector Vane arrived precisely at dawn, his purple robes stark against the industrial grey of the town. He carried a silver-tipped cane that Deacon recognized as an aetheric resonance sensor. If that tip touched a pipe carrying the "Deep-Pulse" steam, the vibration would give away the geothermal source instantly.
"Shall we begin, Lord Cassian?" Vane asked, his voice thin and dry. "I am particularly interested in your safety-relief valves. The Silver Circle tells me your Northern designs tend to... neglect the pressure-release protocols."
Deacon gestured toward the western auxiliary tunnels. "We prioritize redundancy over aesthetics, Inspector. This way. We'll start with the primary reservoir pumps."
As they moved through the damp, torch-lit corridors of the auxiliary works, Deacon played the role of the frustrated administrator. He pointed out small, harmless leaks in the old brass fittings and produced stacks of meticulously forged maintenance logs. Vane poked at the joints with his cane, his eyes narrowing as he searched for the high-pressure signatures he expected.
"This is all very... quaint," Vane remarked, tapping a lead-sealed junction. "But these pressures are barely sufficient to drive a laundry mill. Where is the power source for the Steam-Stamps you displayed in the Capital? Surely these pumps aren't capable of such output."
"The Stamps are currently running on a temporary coal-fired boiler in the east wing," Deacon lied, guiding Vane away from the southern ventilation shafts. "Efficiency is a struggle, as I'm sure your Guild reports mentioned."
While Deacon led the Inspector through the maze of decoys, two hundred feet below them, Miller and the elite welding crew were facing a crisis. A temporary seal on the primary geothermal main had developed a hair-line fracture. The 180°C steam was hissing into the confined tunnel, turning the workspace into a lethal sauna.
Miller, wearing a heavy leather apron and a primitive glass respirator, signaled for the "Hot-Weld." They couldn't shut down the flow; the back-pressure would crack the quartz layer in the mine. They had to weld the iron sleeve while the pipe was at full temperature.
In the tunnels above, Vane stopped suddenly. He tilted his head, his silver cane hovering an inch above the floor. "Do you hear that, Lord Cassian? A rhythmic thumping? It feels... subterranean."
Deacon felt his pulse skip, but his expression remained a mask of boredom. "The rhythmic thumping of a mountain town, Inspector. We're currently clearing a new drainage trench in the lower Sinks. The laborers use heavy iron rammers."
"It sounds remarkably like the pulse of a large-bore piston," Vane countered, his eyes locking onto Deacon's sapphire gaze. He stepped toward a heavy iron door marked Authorized Personnel Only. "Perhaps we should inspect the drainage trench."
"That leads to the grease-trap for the smelting runoff," Deacon said, stepping subtly into the Inspector's path. "Unless you'd like to ruin those Imperial robes, I suggest we finish the audit of the pressure-vessels in the main foundry."
Vane lingered at the door for a moment, the tip of his cane vibrating almost imperceptibly. For a heartbeat, the "Long-Form" war for Oakhaven's soul hung on the sound of a hammer in the deep.
A sudden, sharp whistle echoed from the foundry—the signal that the Hot-Weld was complete and the primary main was sealed. Deacon felt the vibration in the floor change, smoothing out as the pressure stabilized.
"Actually," Vane said, pulling his cane back. "I think I've seen enough of your 'drainage' for one morning. Let us see these famous foundries of yours. I want to see exactly how much coal you're 'burning' to keep this valley alive."
Deacon turned, hiding a grim smile. The first hurdle of the audit was cleared, but he knew Vane wouldn't stop until he found the truth. The game of cat-and-mouse was only beginning, and the next stage would require Julian to use the Solstice Charter as a political shield while Deacon finished the "Great Integration" in secret.