Terror of the Shadow

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

"Laban, my dear boy!" Aristarchus called even before Laban had got himself fully within the doorway. "It's been so long since I've seen you last. I would have expected to see you with us during the cleaning effort of the outer walls."

"Yeah. I'm sorry I couldn't help out. I was... sick," Laban answered.

"I'm very sorry to hear that. Have you seen the nurses?"

"I took a trip down there the other day. They gave me some medicine. I feel fine now."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. And I'm also glad that you are here! Meshach fell ill very suddenly last week. Perhaps you would have seen him while you were at the sick tent?"

"I wasn't there for very long... but now that you mention it, I think I did," Laban replied. "He looked fine."

"Glad to know it," said Aristarchus. "Well, shall we get to work, then?"

"Er... alright," Laban said. He looked over to the bullet craft sitting in the middle of the hangar. It really didn't look any more fixed than it had several weeks ago; if anything, it definitely looked worse. Several more sections of the hull had been removed and were laid out over the floor. It looked like they had been using some sort of machine to buff the layers of rust and cracked paint off the surface, revealing the bare skin of silvery metal. Piles of roughly organized bits of oily pipe, broken and dented mechanical components, and various nuts, bolts, and screws were mixed in between them. The entirety of the domed glass of the front end had been removed and was now dangling rather precariously from a crane attached to the ceiling.

"You really think this thing will fly?" Laban asked, beginning to doubt that this mess could ever be successfully reassembled, especially by an old religious fanatic and a boy with no mechanical experience whatsoever. Laban hadn't ever so much as held a wrench in his hand, let alone put together a machine as complex as this one would be.

"It'll be a challenge, for sure," replied Aristarchus. "That's really half the fun, isn't it? Nothing easy was ever worthwhile to complete. But we ought to get started. Meshach and I have been trying to remove this hypervelocity cannon—that's this part here—from inside. It was proving to be a bit tricky, but I think we finally figured out how to detach it from the main superstructure. Unfortunately, it's far too large for me to handle on my own. I was worried that I'd have to wait for Mesach to recover before I could resume work. Now that you're here, we should be able to get it out just fine. Would you mind wheeling that hoist over here? We'll need it to help us get this out."

Laban looked to where the old man pointed. It looked like some sort of enormous metal arm with a set of rusty chains dangling from its fingers. Laban walked around the back of it and pushed. It was heavy, but the wheels mounted on the bottom made the work surprisingly easy.

"Excellent. I'm just going take those chains and fasten them to the canon... that way it won't fall and crush me flat when we disconnect it."

"Oh. Sure," Laban said. He pushed the machine up close to the open side of the bullet craft. Aristarchus hooked the heavy metal clasps onto the part that they were trying to remove. He stood at the back of the lifting machine and pulled down on a small lever. Its internal mechanisms buzzed only briefly and its metal muscles flexed until the chains had been pulled completely taught.

"That ought to do it," Aristarchus said. He clapped his grease-covered hands together and dropped to the floor, sliding himself underneath the hull of the bullet craft. Using a wrench, he began to make quick work of the many large bolts that held the part in place. They made a small clink clink noise as they were freed from the ship and fell onto the concrete floor.

"Now is where I need your help, my boy," Aristarchus said. His voice was slightly muffled coming from his place beneath the body of the machine.

"I need you to grab that pipe wrench there. There ought to be one in the box on that table there."