The southern heavy-duty valley smelled of boiled away graphite, cooling oil, and molten silver-steel.
Across two miles of terraced granite benches, seventy nonstop casting lines stretched into the gray distance.
Above each casting pit, a massive electric arc fire poured a dazzling white ribbon of alloyed metal into water-cooled copper molds.
The air shone with blasting heat, distorting the silhouettes of the overhead frame cranes.
Giles Croft stood on the central check platform, forty feet above the rolling mill floor.
He wore his heavy bison-leather coat. Its heavy was dark metal-riveted tool loops clinking softly with the movement of his stride.
His oilskin slouch hat was pulled low over his brow, shielding his eyes from the stinging shower of fire sparks.
Beside him, Toby Karr held a wooden clipboard loaded with blueprint schematics and metalworking assay reports.
