THE JUNCTION BOX

The first compensation shift opened at four twenty, with Mariana's order projected on her forearm. External presence. Eye reading every fifteen minutes. Minimum flow preserved. The pump cabin breathed cold through the ducts, leaning against the old shed like a piece of laboratory equipment fastened to an animal's skin. Mariana passed her iris at the portal and received the access key in her own pupil. The mining operation would charge to her balance the hours of shade she would not have. Outside, the heat was still dark, but already rising from the ground. Mara, the auditor for the buyer far away, crossed the yard with a rigid bag against her hip and her hair tied with a strip of cloth. She had come to check the continuity of the water promised to the datacenter. She stopped in front of a tracking camera, offered her face and waited for the green light. Then she went on without looking at Mariana. On the panel of the smaller pump, the schedule indicated three test discharges before dawn. The first would maintain the crushing plant's pressure. The second would wash the sediment tank. The third would send water to the provisional cooling tower, where the steam rose before anyone could call it consumption. Mariana requested the local inspection sequence. The panel replied that the compensation did not authorise a change of route. She repeated the request and attached the code of the broken clamp. The screen opened the contingency protocol. It required her to leave the covered band, walk to the junction box and confirm the vibration with her palm. If the reading failed, the volume would be entered as operational loss and deducted from her body. Mariana left the cabin. The cold air stayed behind the glass. At the box, the pipes trembled under the plate. She put her hand on the metal. A long pulse came from the crushing plant's line. Another, short and weak, came from the branch line of the lower village. She waited for the second reading. The panel counted ten seconds, nine, eight. With three left, she spoke the emergency command. Calibration diversion to the household network. The internal valve moved with a low noise. The pump responded before the panel refused the order. For six minutes, the water intended for the sediment tank entered the pipe that ran under the road. The tap of the lower village could not be seen from there. Mariana saw only the pressure number rise two degrees on the household line. Enough to fill containers. Enough for someone to wash a wound. Enough for the mining operation to call it an inconsistency. Mara came back across the yard, now accompanied by two technicians. The auditor saw Mariana in front of the open box and the calibration line changing colour on her own visor. Her mouth closed in a hard curve. She did not call anyone. The notification arrived as the discharge was ending. Compensation extended. Three shifts converted into five. Residential access restricted during the period of compliance. Mariana read it once. She kept her forearm close to her body. At the house, the thermal container would stay on the table for two more nights. The junction box closed by itself. The blue light of the licensed polygon stayed in the dust.