*The Morning Of*
The lectern was made of recycled hull composite, and Karen noticed they'd polished it wrong again. The grain ran horizontal when it should have run vertical — she'd told the advance team twice. Greg wouldn't notice. Greg never noticed things like that. He'd stand behind it and grip the edges with both hands the way he always did, the way his media coach had tried and failed to break him of, and deliver the address about the future of Artemis Landing to an audience that was, depending on whom you asked, either the most important gathering of decision-makers in cislunar space or a backwater municipal council playing dress-up.
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