Jiang Taixu had cut through fortress gates with less effort than it took to drill Alpha-One.
That was why the drift bothered him so much.
At two hundred and sixty feet, the survey gauge showed that the bore had moved off its line. The error was small at the top and worse below. A reinforcing cage might still pass, but it would press against one wall and leave uneven concrete around the steel.
Jiang withdrew the Frost Sword and checked the instrument twice.
“Is there a problem?” the surveyor asked.
“A loose gauge mount,” Jiang said.
It was not loose. He had checked that too.
He looked across the ridge. Three thousand workers were preparing cages, mixers, and haul roads. Austin had trusted him with the most exact cutting work. Jiang had told everyone that his blade would not fail.
