The monitoring board hummed.
It had hummed for eleven years: the low, constant drone of brass instruments measuring variables that had never changed. Commander Halsen had stopped hearing it after his first week at the post. It was part of the architecture now, like the bolted desk and the stone walls and the yellowed parchment pinned above the central gauge.
"Daily seismic, Commander." Corporal Denn held the clipboard at arm's length. The decimal points were aligned.
Halsen took it. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. He read the numbers.
The primary gauge showed a marginal increase. It was a subtle nudge living entirely in the third decimal place, small enough to vanish into the margin of error on any given day.
Except the exact same marginal increase had appeared yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that.
"Four days," Halsen said.
"Sir?"
