Serbis Arcado, Autumn 1746
My name is Serbis Arcado, and I am a Node Pool Master working for the CASC in Ibraer. This describes a typical day in my life.
First, you should know that ever since I was very small, I have known that I would work for the CASC. This stems, I think, from the very first trip I took on a CASC ship, when I was fascinated by the node pool, the furnace, the bustle and movement, the docking calls and bells, the ships - in short, everything except the actual trip in the Astral. That made me ill. But I declared there and then, as a tiny child, that this was what I wanted to do, and my parents were amused. As rising members of the merchantry, they were less amused when this desire persisted - traditionally, the CASC draws its operational members from the peasantry and working classes. But persist I did, and arrived at my current post only a few years after I joined the CASC. I am at present the youngest Node Pool Master in the Company.
So, I wake in the morning in my apartment in Lepando Street in Skanding, around the hour of six. I rise, shave and dress, and go to breakfast, which my staff will have on the table, suiting its provision to my movements. I favour large breakfasts, and eat only sparsely in the evening, a practice to which I attribute my usual good sleep and general health. Coffee is also served, and while I do not take it at goblin strength, I do prefer to have it strong. With breakfast, I read through the morning's post, and if time allows, a broadsheet or two, or a magazine.
It is not a long walk from my apartment to the node pool, and I can cover the distance in seven minutes if it is necessary. I prefer, however, to take my time, call in to various businesses on the way, and generally arrive in a calm and unrushed state. The Night Master - a man called Verso Ganliad, who has held the position for some twenty years or more, will hand off to me when I arrive. The Masters' Office holds a position from which one can see the full breadth of the node pool, and each of the three of us who work there has his own desk. The handoff is usually quite simple - "All's well" suffices on most occasions - but will sometimes take ten or twenty minutes of discussion if there has been a problem. Ganliad is very capable, and indeed, I was concerned when first I had this appointment lest he should object to my being promoted over him. However, he prefers the night duty to any other, and so is content.
Once I am on duty, I have to be available at very short notice. Therefore, the office contains a stove, the makings of tea and coffee, and other necessities, and I will put the kettle on as the very first thing, and settle at my desk. The morning's second post is delivered here, along with any internal messages, and I will read through these, looking up at each arrival of a ship to check that the bell is rung in good time, and that the announcement is accurate. By now, I know the regular schedules extremely well, and know when to expect the unusual arrivals, whether or not I have assigned their slots myself.
Sometimes, there will be some confusion - a bell un-rung, an announcement made incorrectly, or the like - at which point I must step to the balcony outside the office, ring the bell there, and make the announcement or correction myself. The duty bell-ringer then knows that they should report to the office when their shift is finished. To be fair, it rarely happens, except in the case of unscheduled arrivals; every Node Pool Master's greatest foe.
Very occasionally, I will need to leave the office to deal with a customer on the docks. This is almost always due to a customer expecting something that is impossible to provide - the calling back of a ship that has departed is a favourite, or the provision of a ship to an unusual destination, or better still, one that does not have a node pool. "But it's by the sea!", they say. In these cases, I try to be back at the office as soon as possible, bringing the customer with me if need be; otherwise there will be a cascade of problems.
Lunch is brought to me, and I try to take a little time around the middle of the day to appreciate my position here. I get to spend my days watching these beautiful ships arriving and departing, and maintaining the complex flow of people and goods through the entire establishment. I see people from every part of the world, every kind and colour, and deal with more variety of goods than most people can conceive of. I correspond with people who understand what I write, and discuss ways in which the business can be improved.
I have to admit that I am also looking forward to the coming winter, and to the astral blockage that will go with it. This has been the focus of our work for some months now; adjusting ships to fly through the air instead of the Astral, and adjusting our business practices and expectations to match. It has been troublesome and expensive, and it will continue to be. But think - we will now be able to look out and see the great ships coming in, dropping down from cold clear air with frost on their decks and sails, rather than have them simply appear. And we will be able to see the land we travel over from the ships - indeed, I will be able to take an occasional trip in more comfort, as the Astral still makes me a little ill, despite years of experience.
I also find that the winter work of keeping the docks clear of snow, breaking ice, and keeping braziers and fireplaces going lends a pleasing structure to the days. I plan to bring in some chestnut sellers alongside the existing stands and shops, and with longer travel times by air, we will be embarking on some sort of partnership with a nearby inn.
But I wander from the topic! By evening time, I am ready to hand over to the Evening Master, and in the same way as the morning exchange, I make him aware of the various details that have come up. The rest of the evening is my own - often there are dinner invitations to go to, or dances, or the like, or sometimes an expedition to Barking Street for the evening with friends. Sometimes I hold dinner parties myself; I am coming to like the informal New Kingdoms style, wherein the cooking is a part of the evening - I have become a competent cook in recent years, much to the dismay of my staff, who hold that cooking is not a fit pursuit for any gentleman.
Most of my close friends are those who hold similar or related interests - ships, economics, logistics and so forth - rather than the social peers of my parents' life. I recognise that this is not a way to advance in society, but I find myself happy with my place at the moment, and see no need to advance it - I shall leave that to my siblings. I fancy I am more content than them, and I know from many conversations that I sleep better, worry less, and have better health. And indeed, I am looking forward to the months to come, while they seem to live in dread of them.