The copper cooling shroud was a work of pure metalworking art.
The building physics of ice-cold cooling in near-empty pocket needed uncompromising discipline.
Giles Croft checked the torque on the third side return pipe hub, his breath fogging his visor in the rarefied air.
Behind him, twelve high-sky machine fitters from Haven-Hold were wrapping padded spun-glass blankets around the backup bypass pipes, securing each seam with stainless steel banding straps.
“Liquid helium expands seven hundred times its volume when it boils,” Giles explained to Toby, who was holding the check mirror.
“If a line plugs with frozen moisture, the trapped liquid turns to gas, pressure spikes to six thousand pounds, and the pipe bursts like a grenade.
Every inch of this line was purged with hot dry cold air before we introduced the helium.”
Toby ran his mirror under the lower pipe rim, checking the spreading loop.
