Brin’s last morning at the dispatch window began with a mistake that no longer needed him.
A freight clerk had put two eastern covers into the western case. Nollis caught the first when the destination did not match the station mark. Hessa caught the second while checking the corrected bundle. They moved both, recorded the error and went on with the queue before Brin reached the door.
He stood outside for a moment, listening.
No one called for him.
The feeling was less pleasant than he had expected and more important.
Hessa looked up when he entered.
“You’re late.”
“I’m not on the morning board.”
