You say it out loud, like a play where the lines keep leaves employed.

Light: LEDs on, interior glass wanded, exterior left to weather when visibility is rumor. Fans: weather at the leaf, ribbon lifting. Water: Bay C drank, Bay A did not drown. Gas: Leaf Hall enriched, Hearth a people-number, damper a damper. Bins: perchlorates still a skull-tomato, not a salad. EVA: tethers, or nobody out. Heat: drips in the catchment, not in the tray.

Imani points at you when the last item is checked. “That’s a save. Not a speech. A save.”

Turn to 42.