The retired clerk had kept the valve note in a biscuit tin.
Tarven brought the tin to the table, opened it, and removed a folded sheet from beneath three empty paper packets. Iven looked inside. There were no biscuits.
“Disappointed?” Tarven asked.
“I was checking whether you had a filing system.”
“I did. My granddaughter found it.”
Tarven’s room overlooked a narrow market lane in the middle saddle. The walls were crowded with shelves, each holding objects that appeared to have been placed there because no one could agree where else they belonged. A brass cup supported a bundle of pencils. A clock with no hands stood beside a jar of screws. The window opened onto the smell of fried onions.
Olan had arranged the visit after receiving Tarven’s reply. He had asked Iven to come and had not objected when Iven brought Neri. She had a contract in the middle saddle and could meet them before her crew began work. Iven was grateful for her presence, though he had not told her everything he expected to find.
Tarven unfolded the sheet. The paper was thin and yellow along one edge. It listed replacement components for the Sixth Lift pump, including a return valve with a model number that matched the piece found in the storage crate.
