Mara’s packet smelled faintly of the Caldrin workshop.
Lori knew that was probably the oiled wrapping rather than the city itself. She smelled it again before opening the inner case anyway.
The packet had left Caldrin on day fourteen hundred and seventeen. It reached Bracken seventy days later, after changing carriers at the Gate and three shelter posts. The outer cover was scarred. The inner seals remained dry. Inside were three dormant culture samples, a sheaf of working instructions, and a personal letter written in Mara Doss’s large, impatient hand.
Lori read the letter first.
Mara knew from a westbound report that she and Hend had reached the Gate. She did not yet know they had arrived safely at Rootwell. Her opening line told them to send a proper account when they could, and to stop assuming someone else had already done it.
Lori looked toward Hend’s bench.
He looked back at her, saw her expression, and began searching for paper.
The letter described Caldrin’s ordinary troubles. A cooling bank had needed rebuilding. The union had refused another round of night work without relief crews. Mara had spent three days arguing over wages, then most of a fourth helping carry the replacement casing when a hauling team fell short.
