The minute chose 14:15 and the hallway learned to keep step.
Security opened the lane with open palms. Tariq held the runner slip against his chest so the time would not smudge. The small speaker on Sofia's tablet carried Comms in Ava's ear like a metronome that had decided to be helpful.
"Vendor timer shows five," Comms said. "Four fifty-nine. Four fifty-eight."
Do not flinch.
Vivian's aide met them at the seam. "Twenty seconds," she said. "Board listening."
Ava stood where the line lives between door and room and let the hallway be the room.
"Nearlight Finance will countersign before fourteen twenty to keep Harbor approvals live," she said. "Vendor's scheduled pause will not override signed paper."
"Logged," the aide said. "Chair authorizes countersign."
Counsel stepped into the seam with a thin folder and the posture of someone who prefers nouns to adjectives. "Finance Controller is on," he said. "Portal live."
The CFO had already found his preferred piece of carpet. He stood there the way a lighthouse stands in a brochure. "Governance requires prudence," he said, mild. "Consider a brief internal hold while compliance reviews."
Ava did not look at him. She looked at the aide. "Controller needs a two-factor," she said. "We have a code card on this floor."
Tariq was already moving. "Card," he said, and vanished toward the desk where things that look like office supplies become keys.
"Timer," Comms said in her ear. "Four twenty-five."
Vivian's aide held out a small rectangle like a person who knows exactly how much plastic can weigh in a crisis. "This is the Controller's confirmation slip," she said. "Names masked."
Counsel touched the portal on a tablet that belonged to rooms. "Field one: reason," he said without drama.
"Keep Harbor approvals live under posted exception," Ava said. "Public ledger in progress."
He typed without letting the keys become a performance. "Field two: scope."
"Charity velocity only," Ava said. "Other weights unchanged."
"Field three: clock," counsel said.
"Fourteen twenty countersign," she said. "Expires at eighteen oh five unless renewed."
"Timer," Comms said. "Four even."
The elevator dinged the way elevators do when they are trying to be helpful without becoming symbols. Tariq reappeared with a blue card and breath he had not wasted on anything else.
"Card," he said.
Counsel passed it through the reader that had been designed by a committee and saved by a single engineer. The portal asked for a second factor as if it enjoyed being a gatekeeper. The card obliged.
"Controller," Comms said. "Audio up."
A voice with the fatigue of people who keep time for other people came through the small speaker. "Controller on," she said. "I see the countersign fields. Entering."
"Timer," Comms said. "Three twenty-two."
Downstairs, Harbor refused to pause itself just because a hallway had decided to breathe differently. A runner arrived with a warm print in his hand. He held it for Ava to see as if paper could be proof in every language.
"Harbor tokens," he said. "8222 and 8223."
"Posted," Sofia's handwriting said across the bottom of the page like a person waving from a window.
"Panels clean," Elias added in a neat line. "Overlay cut."
Ava angled the print toward Vivian's aide. "Receipts," she said. "Numbers, not adjectives."
"Timer," Comms said. "Two fifty."
Counsel's tablet blinked the way portals blink when they are pretending not to enjoy being important. "Controller has requested text review of reason," he said.
"Use mine," Ava said. "Keep Harbor approvals live under posted exception; public ledger in progress; countersign at nearlight dot fin signed by Controller."
"Entered," he said.
The CFO adjusted his tie with the same two fingers he uses for sentences he has practiced. "We are performing finance on a sidewalk," he said. "It reads poorly."
"We are performing finance in public," Ava said. "It reads."
Vivian's aide did not smile. She did not frown. She watched the tablet that belonged to rooms and the print that belonged to doors and counted seconds with her pulse.
"Timer," Comms said. "Two ten."
"Controller," counsel said, "field four acknowledges Board Chair authorization. Checked."
"Timer," Comms said. "One fifty-six."
The portal asked for the last thing people always forget. "Initials," counsel said. "Controller only."
"Entering," the Controller said, a little breathless now because seconds are a kind of pressure.
Tariq stood with his runner slip and the body language of a person who would borrow a second from a stranger and pay it back with interest if that were allowed.
A second runner slipped from the elevator with another Harbor print. He held it up without shaking it. "8224," he said. "Signed. Tea still hot."
"Timer," Comms said. "One twenty."
Elias sent a thin sentence up to the hallway from Systems world. "Vendor staging region fallback," he said. "It will try to apply a pause at a different edge if the main one refuses."
"Post the idea," Ava said to the aide. "The room should know fallback exists."
"Timer," Comms said. "One ten."
Counsel looked at the portal the way a person looks at weather on a mountain. "Waiting for portal to accept initials," he said.
The Controller's voice arrived with a small word that had chosen to be a verb. "Entered," she said. "Confirming."
The portal took a breath and made the green it keeps for the kind of yes that matters. Counsel touched the confirm the way people touch opportunity they have earned.
"Countersign entered," he said.
"Timer," Comms said. "Fifty-eight."
"Post line," Ava said.
Comms did not ask which one. "Posting," the voice said. "Nearlight Finance countersigned at 14:18 to keep Harbor approvals live; vendor pause will not override signed paper."
Ava looked at the CFO. He looked at the portal. Everyone behaved themselves.
Vivian's aide took the paper with the line and affixed it inside the seam, visible to the room and to the hallway, like a banner that refused to be a slogan.
The small speaker carried the vendor's reply with the appropriate lack of gratitude. "Vendor acknowledges countersign," Comms said. "Primary pause directive canceled at 14:18."
"Fallback," Elias said softly. "Watching."
Ava angled the Harbor print so the aide could see the numbers that are easier to believe than opinions. "Footer," she said out loud for the hallway that likes to learn arithmetic. "Six ninety-eight."
"Timer," Comms said. "Thirty-six."
The CFO toyed with his preferred inch of carpet. "For the record," he said, "finance should proceed in rooms."
"For the record," Vivian said from inside, not raising her voice, "finance should proceed with receipts."
Counsel lifted a narrow slip. "Attach rider," he said. "Countersign expires at eighteen oh five unless renewed; ledger remains live."
"Approved," the aide said.
A new runner arrived with a Harbor line scrawled at speed and pride. "8225," he said. "They are taping tokens like a museum."
"Timer," Comms said. "Twenty-one."
Elias's voice carried an extra degree of dryness that means the world has chosen to be interesting. "Vendor region fallback arming," he said. "A smaller edge is preparing to pause for six seconds at 14:20 to show its boss it tried."
Ava did not raise her voice.
Countersign before twenty. Keep the door open.
The aide looked at the sentence as if it were a tool. She allowed herself a nod.
"Timer," Comms said. "Thirteen."
The CFO moved his hands like a person who wants to look like he is not about to do something. "For prudence," he said, almost gentle, almost bored, "I will issue a liquidity note to staff at fourteen twenty for a temporary internal spending caution. No effect on donors. Optics."
"Internal notes are your sport," Vivian said without changing posture. "Do not touch the pin."
"I will not," he said. He loved sounding reasonable in corridors.
"Timer," Comms said. "Seven."
Counsel's tablet chimed at a volume it had not earned. "Portal logged countersign," he said. "Controller signed. Chair authorization attached."
"Panels," Elias said, quieter now because the Systems line prefers that. "No blue. Fallback edge is positioning a banner called soft pause. It thinks it is polite."
"Cut polite," Ava said.
He would.
Vivian's aide raised her head as if to listen to a weather report from another county. "Do you need Mr. Sterling," she said. "We can bring him to the seam."
"Keep him where he is," Ava said. "He is holding the room's spine."
The clock on the wall did not tick loudly. It did not need to. It turned the way clocks turn when they are proud of themselves.
"Timer," Comms said. "Three."
The CFO's phone lit with a draft. The subject line said what it needed to say to sound harmless. Liquidity Note. The body had learned how to be forgettable.
"Two," Comms said.
Elias's breath made a tiny sound in the Systems world. "Fallback banner arming," he said. "It will try a soft pause note with a blue stripe, duration six seconds, no money path."
"One," Comms said.
Downstairs, Harbor kept printing receipts because doors do not read countdowns.
Up here, the vendor's legacy job lifted its hand.
Four digits glowed faintly on counsel's tablet.
14:19:58
Comms said, almost amused that time is a character too, "Top of the minute in two."
The portal threw a green blink that read like a nod.
A thin blue tried to bloom at the edge of the vendor world with the confidence of a small sign that thinks it is useful.
The CFO's thumb hovered an inch above send.
The hallway clock chose 14:20.