Field Officer Zoe Smith (Human)

The fourteenth Deputy the Corps had handed her had knocked on the hatch, which told her the Academy still taught manners and still did not teach hatches. She wrote neither down. An assessment records; it does not begin on the first minute.

What she did note, because it was the kind of thing that turned out to mean something later or turned out to mean nothing, was that Varn had read the posting order standing on the dock. She knew this because the order in the Deputy's hand had been folded once, the way a document is folded to be carried, and unfolded, and not refolded, and a Deputy who had sat down with it would have smoothed it. It was a small thing. Most of what she knew about the fourteen was small things, and the assessments the Corps eventually asked her for were built out of them, and were never wrong in the way that assessments built out of large things were wrong.

She said what she said to all of them, and watched Varn hear it. Some of them heard a warning. Some heard a promise that nothing would be asked of them. Varn heard neither, as far as she could tell, and simply waited for the rest of the sentence, and when there was no rest of it, took that as the information it was. That was worth more than the knock had cost.

Then she showed the Deputy the instruments, and the Deputy did not ask then what do we do, and she answered it anyway, because the doctrine was clear that an officer says what can be supported, and the watch does not watch anything was the most supportable sentence on the posting.

Varn stood one step too far from the desk. They all did, for the first weeks, and she had stopped telling them to come closer, because the step was not a mistake. It was a Deputy's honest report of where a Deputy thought they stood, and she preferred an honest report to a corrected posture. The ones who moved the step on their own were the ones she remembered.

The shift was what the shift always was. The six lights held. The ring turned, which nobody in the compartment could feel and everybody knew. Somewhere past the hatch a habitat did what habitats did on an ordinary afternoon, and two hundred metres further around the ring, on the Compact's side, an office that would one day send a Deputy of hers a log with one line too many in it certified something and filed it. She did not know that yet. She did not need to. The posting's whole merit was that it did not require her to know anything in advance.

At the end of the shift she turned the log toward the Deputy and said, "Enter it."

Varn looked at the page for a while, and then wrote, in a clear Academy hand, Nothing to report, and looked up.

Smith turned the log back and read the three words as though they had been longer.

"That is not an entry," she said. "That is an opinion. It is your opinion that nothing here is worth reporting, and it happens to be mine, and the Corps did not post either of us to hold opinions in a compartment." She put the pen down on the page. "Write what happened."

Varn said, carefully, "Nothing happened."

"Six instruments agreed with each other every ninety seconds for the length of a shift. The hatch was opened once, by you, and closed once, by you. The watch was stood by a Field Officer and a Deputy Officer, named. No event." She waited. "All of that happened, and somebody who was not here can check every word of it. Nothing to report they cannot check. It only tells them what you thought."

The Deputy took the pen back and struck the three words with one line, so that they could still be read, which was correct and which she had not said to do. Then Varn wrote the entry, and it was longer than the shift had seemed to deserve, and every clause of it was true, and Smith initialled it.

"That is the job," she said. "Most days that is the whole of it. You will be tempted to think it is beneath the rank." She closed the log. "It is the rank. The event, if it comes, will be the exception."

Varn nodded, and stood one step too far from the desk, and did not move the step. Not yet. She wrote nothing down about that either.