“So it’s done, heh ?”
Maar was way too close to him. Even after all these years, the old lady had never really let her guard down. When it came down to her business, Maar trusted no one, not even her own apprentice to whom she had taught everything she’d known.
“Maar, how do you expect me to do good work if you keep pestering me ?”
Arash smiled softly. He was used to having a pair of eyes watching his every move. In the beginning, he may have mistightened a few bolts or messed up the connection of one or three guys’ nerve endings, but in the eleven years he had spent at Maar’s Mechalimbs’ shop, he had become a pro at handling stress. Which, he thought, was definitely gonna be a useful skill in the near future.
Maar dismissed the young man’s banter by a tired wave of the hand. These youngsters, one moment they’re running around wreaking havoc in your store, and the next they’re all grown-up, disrespecting you at every turn and ready to leave the nest.
“How old are you again ? she frowned, her eyes disappearing under her thick angry eyebrows. Seventeen ? Eighteen ?”
“I’m nineteen, Maar," Arash answered. "Else, I wouldn't be able to go."
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He also couldn’t believe time had gone by so fast since… Since that day.
“You’re really leaving for good ?”
Arash could notice the slight hint of sadness in Maar’s voice. He had grown to consider her as his own grandma. Heck, she was the closest thing to a mom he ever had. But he couldn’t stay and she knew that.
“Yeah. Y’know I have to. ‘Dropped the forms earlier this morning, they said I have to be at the Heavens test center at ten drops this evening.”
“That’s in three drops, kiddo. Better start packing soon.”
Maar took a step back, slowly turning around.
“Ah, about that…” Arash replied, kind of embarrassed. “I don’t really need much. Staff said I’m not allowed to take any tools with me. A way to make sure you have the right skills, I think ? That you don’t use any of these new fancy connectors. Y’have to be able to prove that you can get around with… Well, whatever it is you’ll find there.”
The shop owner had stopped listening. Seemingly lost in thoughts, she had already reached the blinded door of what served as her office-kitchen-bedroom. Maar wasn’t good at goodbyes. Arash knew it.
“I’ll miss you, Maar.”
He paused.
“This isn’t goodbye, though. I’ll be back.”
He was unsure.
Without looking at him, her small crooked back almost disappearing behind the frame, Maar said gravely :
“You'd better find your brother, kiddo.”