Khulgen was at the command table when Batu arrived in the afternoon, the day's tallies spread out in front of him. The lamp was lit despite the hour.
The cold was coming earlier now.
Batu sat across from him. His right arm was in the sling. He set his left hand on the edge of the table and waited.
Siban came through the entrance a few minutes later. He took in the table, the lamp, the two men, and sat without being directed.
He didn't ask why he'd been summoned.
"The eighteen hundred," Batu said. "We sort by what a man knows how to do."
Khulgen's stylus was already in his hand.
"The ones with specific knowledge go into a separate track. Preferential conditions. Food, shelter, some freedom of movement inside the camp's perimeter.
In exchange, the knowledge goes to use."
Batu looked at Khulgen. "The records man from this morning. He runs Orel's function until Orel can train someone to take it.
