THE GRILLE ON THE CABINET

The piece that was left of the support band slid down Ilva's leg when she pushed her knee into the gap. The fabric had already lost its elasticity in patches, and the damp earth got in between the skin and the red mark. Above her, a bundle of cables ran toward the guesthouse, fixed to the rammed-earth wall by recent clamps. The dead buriti roots had been pushed out of the route when they installed the line that fed the preservation bank. Célia held the visor near the opening. The second portion had seventeen minutes. Antônio stayed by the overturned container. He was looking at the corridor panel, where Ilva's name remained open for the authentication of origin. If she yielded her iris, the territorial review would gain a clean proof. On the panel, the channel appeared without the measurements of the spring and without Ilva's name. His debt would remain at four meals. Nael pointed upward, then closed his hand over his own chest. He knew that path. The old piping climbed behind the guesthouse, passed under the veranda and ended at the service cabinet that preserved provisions for guests who hardly came any more. Ilva pulled her body through the gap. Earth fell on Célia's hair. Antônio held out one of his burned hands to support the climb, but she had already reached the first clamp of the cabling. The metal vibrated with the datacenter's continuous work. Down below, the panel repeated the offer. The utility company kept the word origin open over the clay, waiting for Ilva's iris. The word origin shone over the clay as if it were a cleansing. Outside, the heat of the slope came in through the cracks in the sheathing. A winged termite came out of a cavity and struck against the blue light of the duct. There were few shrubs above the guesthouse. The pit and the cooling towers had left the soil hard, and the insects looked for cracks where there used to be shade. She climbed to a narrow plate. The reader recognised her face and opened a maintenance request. Provisional access, said the projection. Responsibility for thermal deviation, twenty-four hours. Ilva offered her face. The plate drew back. A dry air, reserved for the processing boards, came out of the cabinet and met her face. Inside, three preservation units kept temperature for the network indicators. The portion of corn was in a domestic drawer that had received a disposal order, separated from the cold of the machines by a grille. She removed the grille with her fingers, loosening two screws already worn by rust. The piece fell onto the cement walkway and woke a thin lizard, hidden under the duct. Then she pulled the portion inside the cabinet and wedged it between two reading boxes, where the air circulated without touching the food directly. The band from her leg served to tie the container to the inner bracket. When she finished, a short piece of fabric was left, unable to support the wound below her knee. Célia's visor showed the new condition. The portion had left automatic disposal. The utility company had classified the cabinet as breached and linked the maintenance to Ilva for twenty-four hours. The authentication of the sample was still pending. Down below, Antônio called her name. She closed the plate without putting back the grille and began to climb down the cabling, carrying on her leg the band that no longer held anything.