TINSORI LIGHT
TWO
It was a communication from the clan’s qe’andra that put him in mind of schedules and the necessities born of dealing with the rest of the universe.
Previously, there had been no need of schedules, or timekeeping. He and Lorith worked until the task was done, or they were tired, or murdered, or ordered to lie down.
There was a clock in the light keeper’s tower, which told off in what Lorith dignified as Intervals. One assumed that she had once known the duration of an Interval, but she had forgotten that before he had arrived to stand with her.
This latest wakening had been…frenetic in the extreme, with all of them snatching to secure lifelines and ensure core system integrity. Now, however, the pace had somewhat eased, and it was perhaps time to regularize systems.
His last scheduled shifts harkened back to his time as part of a Scout exploratory team, the edges even then being fluid, Scouts being Scouts. He had not much training in station lore as it was meant to be observed from the administrator’s office.
He sighed, and took a sip of water.
Certainly, timekeeping was a station function, but what he needed was advice.
“Cousin Tocohl, have you a moment?”
“Certainly, Cousin Jen Sin,” the calm and soothing voice flowed from the speaker in the ceiling.
“I have on my screen an inquiry from Qe’andra dea’Gauss, referencing times and standardized schedules. As you are aware, we have no such niceties in place at the moment. I wonder if there is a protocol preferred for station timekeeping.”
“That is an interesting question,” Tocohl said. “One moment please, Cousin.”
He settled himself more comfortably in the chair. Tocohl Lorlin, his cousin by the delm’s kiss, was not human—and glad he was of it, too. It had been Tocohl who had caught station systems when Tinsori Light died, and preserved not only the station, but all the lives depending upon it.
“Suggested best practice regarding local station timekeeping is twenty-four seventy-two-minute hours, broken into four shifts. First shift from oh to six; second from six to twelve; third from twelve to eighteen; fourth from eighteen to twenty-four. Recommended crew schedule one work shift, one leisure, one sleep, one work.”
He considered that.
“This schedule produces two work shifts, back to back,” he pointed out, wanting to be clear.
“Your pardon, Cousin; I was not precise. Station day is four shifts, totaling twenty-four hours. Crew day is three shifts, totaling eighteen hours.”
Thus realigning with the station every third day. That was nearly…gentle.
“What is your source, I wonder?”
“TerraTrade Station Protocols cross-referenced with Tradedesk Standards.”
TerraTrade of course he knew, though there seemed some whimsy attached to accepting TerraTrade standard ops for what was nominally a Liaden-administered station. Tradedesk…
Jen Sin frowned, the name tantalizing the edge of his memory—and then he recalled it.
“Tradedesk was the enterprise put forth by the Carresens Syndicate.” Another Terran source.
“That is correct,” Tocohl said.
“Have we guidance from the Liaden Trade Counsel, I wonder?”
“The Liaden Trade Handbook adopted the TerraTrade Standard Protocols pertaining to core station operation six editions ago.”
He blinked.
“Truly, I am come forth into an age of marvels,” he murmured.
“Cousin?” Tocohl sounded puzzled.
He moved a hand. “A sample of what passes for my humor. Ignore me, I pray. How shall I best go about adopting this regularized timekeeping, beyond telling Station to make it so?”
“You are first light keeper, by the delm’s word,” Tocohl said.
“My orders thereby being incontrovertible.” He moved his hand again. “More humor, I fear, Cousin. I will attempt a mode more appropriate to my melant’i.”
“You needn’t do so for me,” Tocohl told him.
“You are the kindest and most forbearing of cousins,” he said, half-absent as he considered. The mind did not want to fall easily into calm planning, after so long living in the moment. What had Krechin used to say? Ah. One cannot violate an order that has not been given. Excellent.
“Pray forward the TerraTrade and Tradedesk recommendations to my screen,” he said. “I will include them in the log”—Only hear yourself, he thought, a log!—“and ask that we initiate our first shift of our first station day, in…”
His eyes sought the old clock hanging above the water fountain.
“In three Intervals. This will give me time to apprise the others of the new protocol.”
“Yes,” Tocohl said. “It will be done as you say, Light Keeper.”