Sera packed twice as much clean cloth as Iven thought they could need and half as much food as he wanted.
Bram settled the disagreement by moving two fittings from the medical case into the tool case. The cloth stayed. So did the dried pears.
“You’ve done this before,” Iven said.
“Packed for people who think their work makes weight disappear? Yes.”
The loader tightened the last strap and lifted the case without asking for a graft effect. He had recovered fully from the vent-hook encounter and taken a paid transport qualification through Rysa’s crew. Now he carried the route papers, knew the load and expected both specialists to listen when he told them where to stand.
Iven found that arrangement comfortable.
They left Mercy on the morning of the hundred and ninety-ninth day since the Lower Return failure. The count appeared on Tavin’s departure sheet beside the receiving windows for Hearth. Iven checked it, then the water allocation, then put the paper where Bram could reach it without unpacking the whole case.
Neri had already gone to a landing job. Her message waited inside his new gauge case: Bring back the measurements, not just the interesting part. He smiled and closed it.
