The morning of the drop-off began with a storm.
Not a real one, not yet, but the warning the sky gave when it was thinking about getting angry. A thick rust-colored veil crept across the upper stratosphere, and with it came a dry, humming tension that made every wire in Grey Hollow snap just a bit louder than usual.
Inside the Virek household, Mirena stood by the narrow window, cradling a steaming tin mug between both hands. She watched the horizon through a layer of dust-caked glass as the clouds churned silently over the canyons.
Behind her, Kael sat on the floor, now a little over a year old. He had outgrown the cradle weeks ago. Arik had built him a play space from a disassembled loader console and spare conduit frames. But Kael rarely stayed put. He liked to move. To observe. To track patterns in light, sound, and shadow.
At that moment, he was hunched over a rusted regulator panel, fingers tracing the grooves in the casing like he was memorizing it.
"He's too quiet," Mirena murmured.
Arik, seated at the workbench retooling a cutter head, grunted. "He's always quiet."
"That's what I mean."
"He's healthy."
"I didn't say he wasn't."
The air tasted charged, like rain that never came. Mirena sipped her tea.
"They'll be here by mid-morning," she said.
"Mm."
"You going?"
"No."
"Jace and Lenn are," she reminded him.
"Then that's enough."
Mirena turned and gave him a look.
Arik didn't glance up. "What?"
"It's the first proper drop off in three months. The boy should see the world. Or at least the ten meters of it that make up the central plaza."
Arik tightened a bolt and checked the torque. "Not much to see."
"Still." She nodded toward Kael. "He should see it."
Arik looked up this time. He watched Kael as the boy pulled a loose cable from the regulator, held it up to the light, and slowly, deliberately tried to align it with the receiving slot. It didn't fit the wrong end. Kael turned it over. Tried again. Still wrong. Then, with small hands, he rotated the housing and found the hidden second slot, buried beneath the surface bracket.
Click.
He looked up. Saw Arik watching. Held his gaze.
"...Fine," Arik muttered. "But he stays close."
Mirena smiled.
By the time the sun had burned halfway through the rust-colored clouds, Grey Hollow was awake and buzzing.
The trade drop off wasn't a festival, not really. No banners. No fanfare. But it was the closest thing the settlement had to a holiday. The only time people could hope for new parts, rare medicine, or, if you were fortunate, something fresh from off-world. Some fruits. A tin of clean protein. A real pair of boots.
The caravan always came in guarded, but not military. Contracted. Mercantile guild stuff. Worn armor, eyes sharp, smiles fake. Traders who bartered for oxygen tanks and alloy scrap always carried too little at too high a price. But they were connected. A lifeline. A signal that the Spiralverse hadn't forgotten them completely.
The caravan ship landed just outside the central dome, a low, flat freighter painted in guild insignia so old and faded they looked like burn scars. Dust kicked up in swirls as the engine cooled.
Jace and Lenn were already there, helping unload crates and arguing over whose turn it was to man the plasma torch in case someone tried to skip the line.
Mirena held Kael on her hip as they approached the plaza.
People turned to look.
They always did.
Not at her. At him.
The boy with the unnerving eyes and silent steps. The one who didn't babble. The one who didn't fuss.
Kael looked around slowly, taking in the crowd, the sound of bootsteps on iron decking, the low mechanical hum of off-world engines. His gaze landed on a man arguing loudly with a vendor, then flicked to a pair of engineers repairing a sputtering cooling unit.
His eyes tracked everything. Every motion. Every pattern.
Vessa spotted them first and waved. "There's my favorite weird little family."
Mirena laughed. "You just like us because we pay in full."
"Damn right I do," Vessa grinned, then knelt to Kael's eye level. "Hey, genius. Don't break anything expensive, yeah?"
Kael reached toward her tool pouch, plucked a loose micro-spanner from one of the loops, and held it up. Then slowly, he pointed to the auxiliary socket on her hip belt where it belonged.
Vessa blinked. "...Okay, that's just showing off."
Mirena rolled her eyes fondly. "He's been reorganizing his toys by material type."
"He's not even two."
"I know."
From the edge of the plaza, a voice called out: "Virek!"
Mirena turned. The trader who had called it was tall, bald, with skin the color of burnished copper and eyes hidden behind polarized optics. He wore a guild-marked coat with dust-worn plating underneath.
"Got something your boys requested last rotation," he said, lifting a crate. "Tell 'em to get their lazy asses over here."
Mirena waved him over and began walking toward the stall.
Kael twisted in her arms.
She noticed it immediately. His spine went rigid. His head turned not toward the trader, but past him.
Toward a man standing in the shade of a broken comms tower.
He wasn't wearing guild colors. No plating. No visible weapons. A long coat. Dust-colored. Civilian clothes. Older. Unremarkable.
Except for how still he was.
Except for how he was watching them.
No, not them.
Kael.
Mirena's chest tightened.
The man met her gaze and offered a faint smile. Then he turned and disappeared around the corner of the comms tower, like he'd never been there.
Kael kept staring long after he was gone.