The last fifty-pound lead block did not come with a speech.
Austin sat in the machinery bay with Pug and fitted it into bracket twenty-eight. Two thousand pounds of ballast now balanced his frame. His bandaged hands made the final bolt awkward, so Pug held the socket straight with his middle mouth.
“Thanks.”
The wrench clicked. “Torque to spec. Guess wrong and you spend the weekend drilling out steel.”
Inside Austin, the hundred-Earth-mass core opened into something wider than a single point. Its weight no longer pulled only at the deck beneath him. It spread through the universal supports and the public grid, steadying every connection without owning the commands.
Golden text appeared.
Austin read the last word twice.
Available. Not required every second.
