CHAPTER NINE
Sparks buzzed through the air, jumping, and leaping like fairies off the metal, beneath the heat of his tool. The craftsman shifted, adjusting his protective face-shield and analyzing his newest creation from a higher angle.
“There we go,” he said in a coaxing, airy voice. He'd often been told he had a girl's voice. More than once teased about it when he was going through puberty. At thirty-three, though, he'd heard it all before. Besides, he quite liked his own voice. It made him... unique.
Every artist's dream.
He reached down and grabbed a cloth, wiping some of the soot stains from the edge of the newest piece. Only a one-sixth scale model of what he intended to do, but he liked to make sure the rehearsal led to a properly executed event. Behind him, from his old record
