The fast packet from Caldrin arrived with mud on only one side of its cover.
The carrier explained why before anyone asked. A splash at the second road station, no immersion, inner wrapping checked in front of the receiving clerk. He had written the incident at the place it happened instead of waiting to see whether a wet corner became somebody else’s mystery.
Iven signed the receipt and opened Brin’s progress page.
Actual arrival at Caldrin on the thousand and thirty-sixth day. Departure next morning. Remaining estimate: Harp on the fifty-first, Riven Gate on the sixty-third. Jora’s home review complete, Dava in the acting appointment. Shared teaching boards acquiring more corrections than either traveler had expected.
The page had traveled twenty days across the two hundred and sixty kilometers.
It was now the thousand and fifty-seventh day.
Brin might already be beyond Harp. The letter could not confirm it. Iven put the old expected stage beside the newer actual one and left the gap visible.
He was getting better at waiting without making waiting into a denial of what he wanted.
