Mira Tel met them with a measuring stick and a dog that disliked Jem’s pack.
The dog circled him twice, barked at the folding frame and retreated behind Mira’s legs. Jem carefully set the pack down. The dog approached, sniffed the latch and sneezed.
“He objects to new machinery,” Mira said. “He objected to my wheelbarrow for a month.”
“Did it improve?” Jem asked.
“The wheelbarrow did.”
She was a lean woman with sun-darkened skin and a scar beside one eye. Her coat had been patched at the elbows with a different color of cloth. She held out the measuring stick for Ruka to examine. Red bands marked lengths along it, and the end had been worn smooth by repeated contact with stone.
“This is the route measure we use on the western approaches,” she said. “If you give me a dimension in city feet, we’ll compare them before anyone cuts anything.”
Ruka introduced the party. Mira checked each name against the letter Tavin had sent. When she came to Neri and Jem, she asked to see their cooperative’s authorization and the scope of the proposed survey. Neri produced both without offense. Mira read them in the shade of a small stone shelter while the dog inspected Sol’s food bag.
