The "Silent War" beneath the waves had bought Oakhaven a precarious security, but it had also signaled the end of the era of simple copper and steam. The Imperial "Trade Envoy," a man named Count Valerius—distantly related to the Emperor and possessing a mind like a steel trap—had arrived not with a battalion, but with a staff of thirty "clerks" who were actually the Empire's finest cryptographers and mathematics professors.
They settled into the guest villa with an unnerving politeness, requesting copies of all telegraphic traffic logs under the guise of "Auditing Trade Consistency."
"They aren't looking for missing bushels of wheat, David," Julian warned, watching the clerks through a telescope from the command center. "They're running frequency analysis. They're looking for the patterns in your Rotary Phase-Shifter. If they find the underlying rhythm of the cipher, the telegraph becomes their greatest weapon against us."
Deacon stood atop the foundry's highest cooling tower, looking out over the valley. The "gritty realism" of their situation was that Oakhaven was leaking information into the very air. Every spark from a dynamo, every pulse through the wires, and every hum of a motor emitted electromagnetic "noise" that the Count's team was measuring with sensitive copper-leaf electroscopes.
"They're reading the heartbeat of the factory from a mile away," Deacon said, his voice grim. "If they can map the electrical signatures, they'll know exactly when we're shifting power to the 'Deadman's Valve' or when we're encrypting a high-level message to the Free Cities. We need to go dark. Not by turning off the power, but by containing it."
Deacon began the most ambitious structural project since the Glass-House: the Oakhaven Faraday Shield.
The principle was a masterclass in 19th-century physics. By surrounding the critical hubs of the valley—the command center, the telegraph exchange, and the primary dynamos—with a continuous, grounded mesh of conductive material, the internal electrical fields would be trapped, and external "Wireless" interference would be blocked.
The reality of the construction was a logistical nightmare. Oakhaven didn't have enough fine copper mesh to cover acres of buildings. Instead, Deacon utilized the byproduct of the foundry's wire-drawing machines: thin, galvanized iron-fencing and scrap copper-strips.
"We're literally wrapping the command center in a cage," Miller grunted, his hands shredded from weaving the metallic mesh. "The men think you've gone mad, David. They're calling it the 'Iron Shroud.' It makes the buildings look like they're under a spider's web."
As the mesh was laid over the roofs and walls, then buried deep into the moist, conductive earth to create a "Common Ground," the internal environment of Oakhaven changed. Inside the command center, the air felt strangely still. The "Ghost-Signals" and atmospheric static that had plagued the telegraph disappeared, replaced by a crystalline silence.
But the "Trade Envoy" wasn't easily deterred. Count Valerius arrived at the command center the following morning, his "auditors" carrying a new device—a long, horizontal brass rod mounted on a tripod. It was a primitive Dipole Antenna.
"Lord Cassian," the Count said with a thin, academic smile. "Your architecture is becoming increasingly... eccentric. My staff tells me that since you installed this 'shroud,' our instruments can no longer detect the healthy industrial pulse of the valley. One might almost think you were hiding something."
"I'm protecting my machinery from the atmospheric lightning," Deacon replied, his hand resting on the heavy copper door-frame of the shielded room. "Sensitive instruments require a stable environment, Count. I'm sure a man of your learning understands the necessity of 'Isolation.'"
"Isolation is often the first step toward rebellion," the Count countered. He gestured to his antenna. "We have noticed that while the 'noise' has vanished, your telegraph pulses are still reaching the coast. My clerks are very interested in how you manage to keep your thoughts so... private."
The "gritty" confrontation came an hour later. Valerius's team attempted to set up their antenna directly outside the telegraph exchange, which was now fully encased in the Iron Shroud. Because the building was grounded, the Count's sensitive receivers were being "blinded" by the massive sink of the valley's electrical common-ground.
"You're interfering with a Crown Audit!" the Count shouted, his composure finally slipping as his electroscopes failed to move.
"I'm maintaining my property," Deacon said, stepping out into the square. "If your 'Audit' requires my factory to be an open book, you should have written that into the Treaty. As it stands, the 'Standard' requires shielding. If you don't like it, you can take your brass rods back to the South."
The Count withdrew, but the victory was short-lived. That night, a series of high-altitude flares were launched from the Imperial ridge. These weren't signals; they were Atmospheric Spark-Gaps. By discharging massive amounts of electricity into the clouds, the Empire was trying to "overload" the Oakhaven shield, creating a surge that would burn out the internal wires.
The Iron Shroud groaned under the weight of the induced current. Blue "St. Elmo's Fire" danced along the edges of the mesh, and the air smelled of ozone so thick it was hard to breathe. Inside the command center, the telegraph sounders began to click frantically as the "Shield" fought to dissipate the energy into the ground.
"The ground-stakes are glowing!" Miller yelled. "The earth is too dry to take the hit! We're going to melt the telegraph exchange!"
"Open the canal sluices!" Deacon commanded. "Flood the grounding pits! We need the water to carry the charge!"
By saturating the earth around the buildings with canal water, Deacon increased the conductivity of the ground, allowing the Imperial surge to pass harmlessly into the depths. The "Iron Canopy" held, but the exchange had been a direct act of electronic warfare.
As the sun rose, the Iron Shroud was blackened and scarred, but the Oakhaven secrets remained silent. Count Valerius and his team were gone by mid-morning, leaving behind only their broken brass rods.
"They've given up on the code-breaking, Julian," Deacon said, looking at the scorched mesh. "They realized they can't hear us through the iron. But that means they'll move to the only thing that can break a cage: Physical Breach."
"We've built a fortress of physics, David," Julian said, his face pale. "But the Empire still has more men than we have iron."