Austin was tapping a thread into a mounting plate when a lock washer slipped from his glove.
It fell toward his boot, stretched into a bright thread near his belt, and vanished.
“Well,” he said. “There goes ten cents.”
Then the last pressure holding his neutron core together failed.
The deck bent under his boots. His tools raced around his hips. Light folded into a black ring at his waist as a rotating Kerr black hole formed inside his dantian.
“Four lead slugs!” Austin called. “And keep everyone outside the marked line.”
Tie Kuang pushed the ballast cart forward. Sera and Dara watched from behind the safety rail. No repair work continued until Dara confirmed that the bay was clear.
The cart slammed down when it entered Austin’s gravity field. Tie dropped to one knee.
