Chapter 45: A Date to Look Forward To

Chapter 45: A Date to Look Forward To

"Hold it," Orrel said.

Silas held.

The mechanic turned the pin through the last stubborn angle and pulled it free. Its end scraped the housing, leaving a bright line on the metal.

"Clear," Orrel said. "You can let go."

Silas released the latch and sat back on his heel. He had been clenching his teeth hard enough to make his jaw ache.

He looked around the side of the cab for Alden. The boy stood where Vennor had placed him, sword raised toward the gap beyond the front wheel. A lean shape moved in the brush farther away. One of the escorts drove it back before it could approach again.

Alden had not pursued it.

"Rooke," Orrel said. "Move back with the others."

Silas got to his feet, managing it without the undignified assistance of the vehicle beside him. "Next time, buy a coupling with an accessible latch."

"I’ll put that in the report," Orrel said, already turning back to the trailer.

Silas joined Bram beside the recovery transport. The boy was watching the trailer while Dain secured the loose parts and Orrel checked the bridle attached to its recovery points.

"Are you all right?" Bram asked.

"I’m tired," Silas said. "Keep your voice down about it."

Bram glanced toward the open transport. "There’s a seat inside."

Silas took it. Bram stayed near the door, looking back along the road rather than watching him catch his breath.

Through the open door, he watched Orrel finish the checks. The driver eased the powered vehicle clear of the released hitch, and the crew secured the recovery bridle before removing the supports. Silas kept waiting for another shout to stop them.

The trailer began moving.

Silas watched the damaged side travel over its temporary wheels. The cargo restraints held. A slow turn brought the trailer into line, and the driver kept it moving at walking speed toward a wider stretch farther up the road.

Nobody cheered. They were too busy keeping people clear of the wheels and watching the verges.

Vennor sent Alden and Mira into the recovery transport, then counted everyone again. Bram climbed in last, carrying the emptied equipment box. Orrel and Dain rode with the recovered vehicle, and the escort withdrew around the convoy without leaving the workers exposed.

A creature appeared between the roadside bushes as they pulled away. It followed for a few paces, stopped, and vanished behind them.

Silas watched the gap where it had disappeared until a bend hid the verge.

The road back seemed rougher than the road out. He rested his head against the seat and kept his eyes open until the station wall came into view.

Only then did his shoulders properly loosen.

At Greybank, Vennor gave the students time to wash and eat before taking their accounts. Silas appreciated that more than he intended to say.

Mira was already seated when he reached the table, her injured foot positioned where nobody would trip over it. Alden put a jug of water in the middle. Bram arrived carrying enough bread to suggest that he had personally rescued the kitchen.

For a while, they ate.

Silas had thought he wanted quiet. After a few minutes, the scraping spoons and lack of conversation began to feel stranger than the shouting on the road.

"Did it reach you?" he asked Alden.

Alden looked up. "What?"

"The one near the cab," Silas said.

"No. It came close enough that I thought I could hit it." Alden turned his cup between his hands. "Vennor told me to stay where I was."

"I heard her call," Silas said. "I couldn’t look."

Alden stopped turning the cup. "I stayed where she put me."

"Good." Silas reached for his spoon.

Alden watched him for a moment, then went back to his food.

Bram tore a piece of bread in half. "Thanks for getting the latch," he said to Silas. "We were stuck until that came out."

"It counts toward our placement," Silas replied. "I’m not coming back to make up the credit."

"I know," Bram said. "Still. Thanks."

Silas reached for the jug before answering became necessary.

Fine. You’re welcome. Keep eating.

When Vennor questioned them later, she was interested in what each person had actually done. Bram explained the shifting cargo. Alden described the position he had held. Mira reported passing equipment and keeping the path to the recovery transport clear.

Silas gave his own account without adding how annoying the coupling had been. Orrel had apparently covered that in some detail already.

"You followed the mechanic’s instructions and stopped when you needed clarification," Vennor told him. "Good work."

Silas gave a small nod. Vennor was already asking about the next part of the recovery.

Their remaining duties that afternoon were indoors. Silas sat for the inventory check, drank water, and left the lifting to people assigned to it. The tiredness remained, but it never became the familiar, ugly slide toward collapse.

After dinner, he found Orrel in the maintenance shed with the removed pin on the bench.

"You brought it back?" Silas asked.

"Evidence." Orrel turned it so the scored edge caught the light. "You were right about the access. It shouldn’t be that awkward to release."

Silas stepped closer, interested despite himself.

They spent a few minutes examining the wear before he brought up the demonstration. He wanted small work he could study at his desk, with tools he could reasonably acquire himself. Orrel named a fee for his time and said that suitable practice pieces would cost extra.

"Send me the total before you bring them," Silas said.

"I will," Orrel said. "I need the next supply schedule first."

Orrel glanced toward the clock and began putting his tools away. Silas left him to it.

The second night was easier. He had adjusted the pillow, taken his medicine on time, and gone to bed before exhaustion made every small discomfort feel personal.

By morning, he was tired enough to want home and well enough to pack his own case without resenting every item inside it.

Severance expired while he was checking beneath the bed for anything he might have missed.

[Temporary Talent expired: Severance]

[Assimilation preserved: 4%]

Silas paused with one hand on the mattress.

He had expected it. He still disliked feeling the unfamiliar ability disappear before he had learned to do anything impressive with it.

He would need Celia to visit again. For once, the prospect of answering more of her questions did not seem quite so irritating.

He picked up his case.

Their placement record was completed before departure. Silas checked the credit twice, found nothing to complain about, and boarded the transport.

On the journey back, Mira fell asleep with her head against the window. Bram began telling Alden something about load restraints, noticed that Alden’s eyes were closing, and gave up. Silas watched the road for a while before closing his own.

When he finally opened his room, the familiar awareness met him at the threshold.

His desk. His bed. The books where he had left them. The practice board sat beneath its cover, and nothing required him to report to a yard in ten minutes.

Silas carried his case inside and closed the door.

"Oh, thank fuck."

He put away the medicine first. The rest of the unpacking could wait until after he had washed and changed into something that had not spent three days around transport seats and road dust.

A short while later, he settled into his chair with a hot drink and felt the room begin doing what he had missed.

The tiredness did not disappear. It eased at a pace he recognized, while his cup hung conveniently beside the armrest and his feet stayed exactly where he wanted them.

His device chimed.

Silas considered ignoring it, then saw Orrel’s name.

Academy run confirmed for four days from now. I can come by at two after unloading. I’ll send the practice pieces and full price tonight. Does that suit you?

Silas checked his schedule. The afternoon was free.

He looked at the empty temporary slot, then at the space he would need to clear on his desk.

Two is fine. Send me the list.

He sent the reply and reclaimed his drink.

This time, the next useful Talent was coming to him.

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