Readiness - 1
“I had hoped to play baladde with you.”
She knew her voice emerged wistful, and did not dwell on the likelihood that he only found her pitiful.
Her public presence was a formal occasion in the Marn, so she wore the leather helm of her office. In her narrowed vision she observed the opaque red lenses, the mouthless ventilator, and his fine gloves, all the masks that separated him from her. Of course he needed the goggles to filter the solar light, he needed the ventilator to supplement the richer radon content he was adapted to, the gloves because his skin dried out so easily here in the open wind. All this Gar knew, all this had been explained to her, and yet for her every piece of his mask was a symbol of the distance between them. She couldn't even smell him because of the ever-present trail of lightning-strike that hung around him from his ventilator. He occupied the only seat around the small outdoor table, and had not called for another when she approached, so she stood, looking down at him.
He was her spouse of eight years, and she had never seen his face. She had touched him once, which had insured she never touched him again.
Thirteen was a stupid age. Fearless and thoughtless.
“I must beg your forgiveness, ilish,” he said, his voice filtering mechanically through the ventilator. She hated the way he called her 'ilish' with a sickened weariness. “I have correspondence with the Tier trade that cannot be delayed.”
There was always something.
The intense desire to demand a real reply clutched in her chest. But the almost mathematical intricacy of dramma protocol did not allow for it in this relationship. And she had not allowed herself any excess of protocol with this particular person since she was thirteen. It was her penance. It never seemed to matter.
“My apologies, lemal. I saw on your schedule that you had an open block. I did not realize you were already occupied.”
The observation was perfectly within the casual ritual of protocol, by no means an accusation, and rather pointed all the same.
“It emerged unexpectedly. I have not had the opportunity to update my schedule.”
Of course.
She did not say it, because too much would have come through.
“Perhaps tomorrow,” Gar said lightly, and knew tomorrow there would be more unexpected business.
“Yes. Perhaps.”
It didn't matter. She would be gone soon. The choppy burr of an engine reached her, and then a plane crested the tree line over the Marn. She craned her head back to watch it.
“I will be travelling to Dyo to arbitrate a mercantile matter,” she told him. She considered saying that she would perform a bahm for his health, but feared it would be received as self-righteous, though she did, every evening. “I will return to the Marn in a few weeks, if all goes well. I would enjoy meeting with you again.”
“I will be taking the circuit for the short season,” he told her with a metallic frisson.
“Ah.” A second and third plane soared over the treeline, heading south before veering west. “Then I wish for your safe travels. I enjoy the circuit in the short season.” He gave no response, his gloved fingers still holding the place in the documents he had been reviewing when she approached. “Farewell, lemal.”
“As to you, ilish,” he said, returning to his perusal before she turned away.
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