Mujin wore shoes for walking and was sitting in a chair.
Late on R+128, Darae found him at their agreed broad passage in the rotating ring. The public resting place had a window. He was looking at his own toes before anything outside, then raised his head as she approached.
“Sat down before walking.”
“Haven't departed. Short return route, then.”
He laughed. She asked about sitting beside him and put her bag on her knees. She had intended to leave drawing things at home, then slipped one small personal sheet inside.
His agreed shift had finished, but he was more tired than expected. Not ill enough to cancel; simply reluctant to walk far. Her back was stiff after yesterday's axial journey too. They did not compare whose fatigue deserved the larger share of the chair.
Would she prefer the nearby dining place or more rest here? Water first, she said. The current drinking point was open for each of them to use. When she rose, Mujin moved too. There was no need for the same speed, she told him.
Was she saying so before he tried to take some task out of her hands? No, she laughed. Her own body was slow now.
“Mine too. Don't know who's ahead yet.”
Two steps later they were travelling together much more slowly than at first. In the ring's weak simulated gravity, water entered its designated cups. She remembered her bottle secured in axial protection yesterday. Today's lighter grip did not make a cup something to toss. They carried their own water back.
Mujin was glad the same seats remained empty. They could have found others, she said. He had wanted the same window. She liked that answer enough to turn her face a little after setting down her cup.
Outside, part of the facility slowly changed angle. They had not travelled far in pursuit of stars. She did not want to name every exterior thing she knew. The visible light looked a little white today, she said. He would look inward sometimes too; keeping his eyes on it tired them.
“Look at me, then.”
Her ears warmed. He turned immediately. She almost explained that she had not meant so quickly, then laughed instead.
“Looking now was possible,” he said.
No precision observation sheet occupied the space between them. He noticed that her bag was flatter. One sheet, she said. A drawing? Not yet. Her hand entered the bag and came out again. She had been about to ask whether she could draw him.
After thinking briefly, he said he did not want a face drawing today. She nodded. Disappointment arrived, smaller than she might have expected but present. The paper had travelled, and the light was good. Neither gave her a claim on his face to complete the meeting.
He noticed her expression. Disappointed? A little, she said, but she understood. She was glad he did not take the refusal back to repair her feelings. Instead he asked why she had brought paper. That was a question she could answer.
Lately she had thought about hands after things reached their places, Darae said. No particular visitor's story accompanied it. Sometimes the hand kept the same shape long after setting something down. She had wanted to see how his hands rested today.
Mujin looked at them. One lay near the cup, another on his knee. Looking at his own resting hand made him want to correct its position.
“Then today I'll look without a picture,” she said. “The hands should get time off too.”
“Their owner still has to lift the cup.”
“Can't draw you a cup of water. You wouldn't drink.”
They raised their actual cups. Slowly, she felt the refusal of one drawing leaving the evening's warmth intact. It could be something she had hoped for and something they did not do, without becoming the whole name of the meeting.
After a while they considered a walk. One short stretch of the nearby broad passage suited Mujin. It suited her too. They returned the common cups to their designated place and took their own bags. She attached no work joke to keeping facility property out of a personal bag.
A small goods cart approached along the passage. They stepped aside together. She moved her bag inward; he withdrew his feet. Neither needed to pull the other by an arm to accomplish the movement. Once it passed, they resumed.
She asked whether he wanted to hold hands. A little now would be good, he said. They matched the comfortable hands with the bags they carried. This was no cargo-net restraint requiring tension. Enough looseness remained for their steps to differ.
He thought he had slowed down. She had just lingered to look at the window, she said.
“Can't explain all our speed from my condition, then.”
She laughed. Even the thought of accommodating somebody could run ahead of the actual feet.
At the stretch's end they stopped. The same path led back to the first chairs. Mujin wanted to turn here today. She had wanted to see a little farther, Darae admitted, but sitting would suit her body too. Returning together concealed no test he had to pass.
She had agreed to a short route and still felt a little disappointed when it proved short. He said she need not remove every such feeling before arriving. Hearing that showed her the part of herself wanting him to take the disappointment and solve it.
He thought for a moment. He had wanted to postpone saying how tired he was in case she felt let down. But later words would mean more walking, and perhaps more disappointment afterwards.
“I'm glad you said it now.”
They turned. The same window light touched different shoulders. The way back did not feel like a failed copy of the outward walk. Its length was equal; what had been spoken along it was not. She let her hand rest more comfortably in his rather than explaining the thought as a grand comparison.
The chairs remained free. This time they sat on opposite sides from before. Was the bag awkward there? he asked. Her lap would work. A little later it did not, and she asked about the allowed space beside her. Her first answer need not remain correct until the end of the evening.
A passing person looked at the window and changed direction. They could not see what these two were waiting for. Darae liked that. Their reason for sitting required no label hung in public. Mujin narrowed his eyes slightly when she smiled and did not ask why. She left that silence alone instead of recording an unanswered question inside it.
Could he return to the subject of hands? she agreed. He knew his piloting hands differed from eating hands, he said, but had rarely considered resting ones. Attending to them now kept assigning them a task.
Her eyes were similar, she said. Tell them to look for nothing and they checked what they were not seeking.
“Found anything now?”
“Time when we can sit together and it's all right.”
The sentence embarrassed her a little. She left it unerased. He liked such time too, without being certain he would always sit well. Sometimes she would want to bring work or drawings, she said. They did not promise never to be awkward again. They could say what had been good today.
His terminal sounded briefly. He checked the type: an ordinary notification that could wait. She checked her own; no emergency call. Being glad of that did not make her irresponsible about her work. Both terminals returned to their personal protection.
More water? she asked. He wanted to go home, wash and rest now. She accepted it without enlarging her smile to hide the disappointment. She wanted to say goodbye with a face that actually received his need to stop.
At the fork they released hands. Next time she would like food together, she said. He wanted that too and would ask again when he could see a possible time. An unset date did not make this meeting provisional. She watched him turn away for a moment, then took her own route.
After reaching their separate homes, they let each other know. Darae removed the blank sheet from her bag. She almost called it a day when she had failed to draw, then laughed. Unmarked paper was simply paper still available. It need not prove that she had omitted today's Mujin.
She rested her hand beside it and made a line. No exact outline. The bent angle of fingers that had held and released a cup stayed with her. Two more short marks, then she stopped. This was a private movement, no portrait being offered for release.
She ate her own supper. Holding a warm bowl called strength into the hand; setting it down released it. She took those simple movements a little slowly because she wanted to, without turning every ordinary moment into an observation form.
Before sleep, the old-audit route carried notice of the next shift's sequence. Jingyeong's additional explanation was expected: what had been checked on receiving the recovery record, and what had merely been passed along as checked. No new verdict or release from responsibility accompanied it.
Darae requested no material through her personal terminal. The work could be received next shift. Still, the two phrases remained. Checked, and passed along as checked. A larger gap might lie there than in today's empty hands.
She set her alarm and turned off the desk light. Good time today would not lighten tomorrow's explanation. Waiting for that explanation did not require returning today's warmth either. Tomorrow she would hear Jingyeong's account in Jingyeong's own name, rather than leave it hidden behind an intake number.