Chapter 26: Enough Room

Chapter 26: Enough Room

Silas was moving the desk when Talia replied.

I can look before lunch. I won’t be inspecting their equipment.

He lowered his end onto the rug and straightened carefully. The desk had been heavier than expected. Remote Grasp helped, but using it to drag furniture while guiding the legs around everything else had made him miss Evan’s empty work trays. At least those stayed where he put them.

He sent Talia a brief acknowledgment. His earlier message had explained that two repairers would be working in the studio, bringing another stool and several cases. He wanted to know whether his proposed arrangement left enough room around the entrance.

It was a reasonable question. Looking at the floor now, he was glad he’d asked it.

By the time she knocked, he had the heavy tools in the bottom of the cabinet, the empty practice box on the bed, and the spare chair tucked beneath the desk. He’d wiped away the last chalk marks before breakfast.

Talia stepped inside carrying a folded notice beneath her slate.

[Talent Record Available: Boundary Ward — B / Rare.]

[Previous Assimilation Record Detected: 83%.]

[Record Talent?]

Yes.

[Boundary Ward recorded.]

[Assimilation: 83%.]

[Remaining Duration: 7 days.]

His fifth copy. Silas dismissed the panel as Talia looked toward the cleared shelf.

"You moved the tools."

"You were quite insistent."

"For a reason." She set her slate on the kitchenette counter. "Where will the other two sit?"

Silas showed her. He had allowed space for the stool opposite his chair, with the second repairer taking the end of the desk. Talia pulled out the spare chair and sat down.

"Walk past me."

He turned sideways to get between her and the bed.

"There," she said. "Now imagine someone’s left a case on the floor."

Silas looked at the space she’d indicated. He hadn’t allowed for the chair being pulled out quite that far.

"The cases can go by the window."

"The empty ones, perhaps. They’ll want the others within reach." Talia stood. "Try turning the desk. You’ll lose space here, but you can keep a clear route from the bathroom to the door."

He moved it while she held the lamp clear. This time the legs came around without catching the rug.

Talia tried the chair again, then stepped past it normally. "Better."

"It rather interferes with the elegance of the room."

She glanced at the bed heaped with papers, the practice box, and his folded weapon cloth.

Silas wished he’d picked a different word.

"You can put it back afterward," Talia said. She checked the door’s full swing and returned to the counter. "This is fine, provided you actually keep the route clear. If they bring more than you described, find somewhere else to work."

"They sent the dimensions."

"Good. Show them where things go before they unpack." She handed him the notice she’d brought. "Reception arrangements. This copy belongs on the wing board, but you can read it while I finish next door."

Silas took it by one corner. There was a list of entrances, cloakrooms, and times beneath the academy crest.

"I have the calendar notice."

"Then you don’t need this." Talia took it back without pressing him. "Anything else?"

He had several questions about Boundary Ward that he couldn’t ask without explaining why he needed answers. None concerned keeping a walkway clear.

"No. Thank you."

She collected her slate. At the door, she looked back at the shelf once more.

"Keep the heavy things down there when you move everything back."

"Yes, Veyne."

She left him to finish preparing the room.

The repairers arrived after lunch. The lead introduced herself as Sella and her colleague as Bramley. Both wore academy maintenance badges; Bramley also had a stool hooked over one arm and a case in each hand.

"Where do you want us?" Sella asked.

Silas showed them, taking some satisfaction when they could all move around the desk without climbing over anything.

They had him demonstrate the separate holds they’d requested, then unpacked the first measuring head. It was larger than Tobin’s meter. There were more parts inside, but Sella only wanted him concerned with the four she pointed out.

"Bramley will call the movements," she said. "If you can’t maintain one, say so. We stop where we are."

Silas took his place and waited for them to open it.

Most of the first repair was slow, careful work. The difficult part came when Sella needed to remove a support beneath two thin sensing plates. One plate rested loosely against the other. Lifting both together would give her room, but Bramley shook his head when Silas suggested it.

"That lower connection won’t take the movement. We need the top one clear first."

Silas adjusted his holds. The upper plate rose a little. The lower one tried to come with it.

He stopped.

"They’re catching."

Sella leaned closer. "Where?"

"The far edge. I can hold the lower one down, but I don’t know how hard I can pull on the top."

"Don’t pull," she said. She examined the overlap with a narrow lamp, then reached for a different tool. "Bramley, take the light."

Silas held the plates while she freed the caught edge. It took long enough for him to want to shift in his chair. He kept still until she withdrew the tool.

"Now try."

The plate rose cleanly. Silas let out a breath through his nose and moved it to the position Bramley indicated.

After that, they could reach the damaged support.

They completed two heads that afternoon and the other two the next day, after Silas returned from his morning class. The second session was easier on his nerves. He knew how Bramley gave instructions, and Sella no longer had to ask whether he was ready before every small adjustment; he told her.

They took breaks with the assemblies secured in their supports. Silas ate during his, even when part of him wanted to get back to the desk.

The last test finished near sunset.

Sella compared the results with the service sheet and signed the completed commission. A moment later, the payment reached his account.

One hundred and twenty silver. His available balance was now two hundred and forty-five.

Silas looked at the figures while Bramley packed the test supply. He’d been worrying about some final fault, an inspection he hadn’t understood, anything that might leave him waiting another day. Instead, Sella was asking where she could wash her hands.

He pointed her toward the kitchenette.

"We may need you again," she said afterward. "Would Mercer or Reed be the best way to reach you?"

"You have my contact."

"Yes. I meant for availability."

He almost told her he was available whenever she needed him. The familiar answer came so readily that he had to pause before speaking.

"Send the dates first."

Sella nodded and closed her case.

When they had gone, Silas stood in the cleared walkway for a while, listening to the quiet. Then he moved the desk back, recovered his good chair, and sat down with both feet stretched out.

His shoulders hurt. He was hungry again. He could deal with both without answering another instruction first.

He ordered his meal and left the terminal alone while he waited.