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Dragon Song
Dock A


“I could have come for it, you know,” Ren Zel said, as Jen Sin pulled the collapsed closet to the foot of the ramp. “We are sent to help, not to increase your burden.”

“No burden at all,” Jen Sin told him, “only a welcome opportunity to leave my desk, and take a small tour. Surely a light keeper may tour his own docks?”

“Phrased thus…”

Ren Zel came down the ramp, and opened the hold. Jen Sin slid the closet inside, and paused, eyeing the remaining crates.

“If one may ask—what else did you bring?”

“Well. Teas; a mixed rack of wine; cards and counterchance and like entertainments; some sport objects; a kitchen hydroponics unit; flower seeds and growing medium; books, vids; photo cubes; a seedling—”

Ren Zel paused, brows pulled together.

“I believe that may be everything. We did not know exactly how you were fixed, and erred on the side of small comforts. Gordy—surely by now you have heard from Gordy?”

“He sent a most cordial and generous letter, and received a list of items to shop for with apparent delight.”

Ren Zel smiled.

“He is a trader, after all. You could have done nothing better than ask him to shop for you.”

“I wonder—is there a bowli ball among the sport items? Theo had expressed a need. Gordy will be bringing a number, as I understand it, but if we might put one into her hands sooner—”

Ren Zel laughed.

“I understand! There are, in fact, two bowli balls. How if I send for Bechimo to pick up the sports case?”

“That is an excellent notion.”

“Consider it done. What else may I do for you?”

Jen Sin hesitated, remembering his former hopes.

“I can scarcely ask you—”

“Ask me!” Ren Zel interrupted, energetically. “I insist that you ask me, if you will not outright order me to complete needful tasks! I am here to help you, and, to be plain—to give you some respite. Theo tells me you are worn out, and you know it must be so, if Theo has seen it!”

Jen Sin laughed, then sobered.

“It is true that I had felt a shadow of myself, though somewhat more solid of late. I had only just been saying to—to my comrade Lorith, whom you must soon meet—that we might begin to plan a few off-shifts, to catch up on those things which are not duty. So, you see, the prospect of rest is not entirely foreign to my thought. It is only…”

Again, he hesitated, and very nearly startled when Ren Zel put a hand on his shoulder.

“Most lately, I have been first mate on a master trader’s ship with a mixed crew. I was at my post when trouble arrived, more than once, yet here I stand before you. It is true that I am not trained to station-work. However, detail-work, building compromise and consensus, and the perils of personal interface across culture are all very familiar to me.”

He could use this expertise, Jen Sin thought. In fact, he desperately needed his cousin Ren Zel in the newly opened section. Only—

He paused. He had promised Catie that he would leave her someone worthy. It was not too soon to see that connection made.

He smiled, half-wistful.

“I see that you are determined,” he said to Ren Zel. “Tell me this, then—how would you like to be the official representative of the Light Keeper’s Office in the Spinward Arcade and Dorms, which is even now receiving the so-called second wave of volunteer aid sent from Hacienda Estrella?”

“I think that sounds precisely like the sort of assistance I had hoped to provide. Do we go now?”

“Are you able? I would present you to Coordinator Carresens, and show you the administrative suite.”

“Only let me seal the hatch,” Ren Zel said.

Jen Sin stepped out onto the dock, looking up at a flash of green—and blue—and…yellow?

“I did not know there were birds on-station,” Ren Zel said, sounding merely curious, as of course he would be. What was there, after all, in a few brightly colored birds frisking overhead to inspire anything other than curiosity?

“Avians, according to Cousin Theo’s Scout, which may be a better naming. They are bots given by a friend. At least the blue and the green. I had not seen the yellow until just now. Perhaps it is yours.”

Ren Zel said nothing, and Jen Sin turned to face him.

“I fear the situation here has changed since you left home, Cousin. I swear to you that the birds are not a danger, nor is the person who created them.”

Ren Zel’s laugh was lightly edged.

“I take leave to remind you that you are speaking with a man who allegedly remade space with his mind.”

“My lamentable memory. You are very right to remind me of that. I hereby pronounce you the equal of anything you may find at Tinsori Light. Which brings to mind another lapse. How shall I properly show my appreciation to you, for sending those equations—and attending data!—to me?”

“I daresay you’ll hit upon something,” Ren Zel said comfortably. “What is our direction?”

Jen Sin used his chin to point left.

“We will pick up the jitney at the maintenance bay, and do the thing in style.”

They turned in that direction.

“What prompted you to bring flower seeds?” Jen Sin asked.

Ren Zel moved his shoulders.

“That was Anthora, and I cannot say if it is only because she is fond of flowers, or that she had a Seeing. Why do you ask?”

“There is an area marked out for a garden in the center of the public space.”

“Ah. Yes, that would be the style of thing she might See. Do you think that the members of the second wave should like flowers?”

“We will make certain to ask Coordinator Carresens.”


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