The Pallet That Would Not Move

Saff reached for the pallet.

Brin did not.

“That’s a crate,” Saff said.

“That’s a crate with a sleeve on it.” Brin pointed at the wrapping. The stitch was Nim’s repair as imagined by someone who had seen it once. “We don’t move people dressed as inventory. We don’t move inventory dressed as people. This is the second thing and I still won’t.”

The shift lead started to speak about logs.

Brin put on the old harness. It clicked.

“Tell Kael if you must. Tell the cook. Don’t tell a map. I’m finishing the other stack.”

Saff, after a moment, helped with the other stack.

The marked pallet waited like a bad sentence.

In the evening it was gone without Brin’s hands. He did not ask who had been made to look at it. He hoped it was someone who could read a stitch.