The morning safety talk was short.
“Clip both lines when you move,” Austin told the crew. “If you hear a bolt snap, get off the joint and call it in. Do not hang below a load to finish one last turn.”
The first tower sections rose through the day. Riggers guided the beams, smiths pinned the splice plates, and surveyors checked the legs. The work was steady rather than graceful. “Zero dropped tools so far,” Austin said. “If OSHA saw this, they’d buy us pizza.” One crane stopped for a frayed sling. A shift change ran late. Rain at the base sent everyone under cover for twenty minutes.
By late afternoon, the frame reached four thousand two hundred feet.
Austin climbed to the first staging deck with Tie Kuang and Jiang. The lower columns looked straight, and the foundation loop was still spreading the core pulses into the grid.
Then a washer dropped past Jiang’s face.
It struck the deck, bounced through the grating, and vanished toward the mountain.
“Clear the east bay,” Austin said.
