Architect Neron's Arc

Chapter 5 of 8

The plan was drawn. The city would climb, not spread. But Neron still had no legs to hold it. Tall buildings needed anchors driven deep, down to solid rock. He did not know how deep the mud ran around the ridge. Guess too shallow, and the anchors would find no bottom. The whole city would tilt and sink. He needed to measure the mud before he built. Nevin dragged a heavy case from the crate. He was Neron's assistant, hired to fix the problems Neron forgot to see. He opened the lid and lifted out a compact device with a glass sensing face and a row of colored buttons. "Ground reader," he said. "It reads how firm the soil is under the probe. Press it down, and the needle tells you." Neron carried it to the ridge edge, where dry stone met wet ground. He pressed the probe into the mud. The needle swung high, then dropped. "Soft," he said. "No floor here." He moved a step out and tried again. Softer. He walked the whole border, pressing, marking each spot on his map. The mud ran deep everywhere. Too deep for anchors. Dax crouched beside him, muddy overalls soaked through. His cracked chest glowed faint blue. He had watched the herd longer than anyone. "By the r-rocks," he said, pointing. "The big ones stand there. Their feet don't sink." Neron looked where Dax pointed. Near the base of the ridge, the herbivores stood on ground that held their weight. He pressed the reader there. The needle climbed and stayed. "Firm," he breathed. "There's rock under the mud here. A shelf." He pressed again, a step further out. Still firm. The shelf reached past the dry crown, hidden below the surface. He walked the shelf's edge, probing at every step, mapping where it ended. The firm ground formed a wide ring around the ridge, buried under shallow mud. Not solid enough to stand on. But solid enough to anchor into. Neron knelt and sketched fast. He drew the shelf's border onto his plan. Then he drew supports driven through the mud, down to the buried rock. Heavy metal frames with tensioned cables, spread wide to grip the shelf. "Here," he said. "The buildings don't sit on the mud. They stand on legs. The legs reach the rock below." Nevin studied the map. "You know the depth now. Every anchor point." "I know it," Neron said. He held up the reader. "No more guessing." The tight footprint on the crown could grow now, out over the mud, held up on anchored frames. The city had room to climb and to spread. He rolled the plan tight and stood. The ridge was measured. The next work was building the anchors themselves, and driving the first one down before the mud swallowed his chance.