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Administrative Tower


Clarence had been allowed to close the Spinward office early and return to his ship, while Ren Zel and Jen Sin sat late in the main tower, going over the events of the last while.

“Finally, we have this,” Ren Zel said. “Catie wishes to see the charts and route-lists brought to accuracy with regard to the name of this station.”

Jen Sin raised his eyebrows.

“Catalinc Station? I concur. Have you filed the change?”

Ren Zel reached for his teacup.

“I assisted Catie in filling out the paperwork. She felt that, as Commander yos’Phelium’s Field Judgment is so recent a thing, petitions signed by both station and station master would make an eloquent point.”

Jen Sin raised an eyebrow.

“Catie, if you file on your own behalf the point may be sharper.”

“Yes, but I don’t wish to be divisive. I wish to be inclusive. Everyone is welcome here. Everyone will be treated equally. I think that is the core of Scout Commander yos’Phelium’s judgment.”

“In that wise, I am honored. Let us sign, send, and get this underway.”

He turned to look at Ren Zel, weary face and sparkling eyes.

“Go home to your lady, Cousin. If she allows it, get some rest.”


“I have a suggestion regarding your party,” Jen Sin said. “What do you think of a Name Day Party?”

“Will we have to wait for the changes to be made? I would like Disian, Tocohl, Joyita, and Bechimo to attend, but none of them will be staying very long.”

“I think that, having filed a reasonable correction, we may proceed. Will you call yourself Tinsori Light until the trade guild catches its records up?”

“No!”

“There you have it. And you know—my delm is incoming very soon. Perhaps they would like to be invited to your party, too.”

“Is that another sharp point?”

“I fear it may be. I’m edges along all sides, you’ll find.”

“Let me think about it.”

“Certainly, there is no rush.”

He leaned forward and checked the screen, but there was nothing that required his attention. Ren Zel had performed the impossible, and left the office caught up.

Very possibly, he should go off-shift, and strive to become more regular in his habits. Only, he was not particularly tired. A game of cards, he thought, or darts with a like-minded cousin. Perhaps he might tour the Sereneco Hall residence. Or—

He touched the comm.

Bechimo, Comm Officer Joyita speaking.”

“Jen Sin yos’Phelium,” he said. “I wonder if Stost or Chernak might be available to give me a tour of Spiral Dance.”


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Framed