The license lay on the table before Veyr mentioned the harvest.
Iven recognized the College seal first. Beneath it stood his name, his demonstrated Circuit capacity and a provisional appointment ratified under the convoy’s emergency authority. The paper would regularize work he had been doing without the protection that trained restorers took for granted. It would open workshops, supply accounts and clinical collaborations currently available only when someone like Sera or Halwen put a reputation beside his.
Veyr waited while he read.
“It is real,” the governor said.
“I assumed you wouldn’t offer a false seal.”
“I meant the work behind it. Your advance has been observed. Your repairs have been reviewed. Even people who dislike your methods have stopped pretending you are an amateur with a stolen tool.”
The graft beneath Iven’s left sleeve rested warm and full. He did not need the paper to make it strong. He knew exactly how much the paper could change the rest of his life.
He put it down carefully.
