In the quiet corner of the washroom, the clockwork timer atop the brass Courtesy Arch began its warning chime. A delicate, silver ping that sounded every ten seconds when two minutes of meal break remained. Jo Saye wiped the grease from her hands with a dry cotton rag, slung her nylon slings and the three-ton ratchet hoist over her shoulder. Then it stepped onto the granite threshold.
Councilor Vesk stared at the shimmering blue oval. Her sharp gray eyes were wide with amazed wonder. She had heard rumors of the mysterious apprentice plumber and the foreign iron tools. But seeing the living portal to Harrowby with her own eyes left the veteran senator fully speechless.
‘Is that... Another realm?’ Vesk whispered, stepping forward until the blue light reflected in her silver clasp.
‘It’s Harrowby, Councilman,’ Pella answered quietly. ‘A town depot eighty miles north of Leeds, across an ocean of another world. They mend pipes and hoist steel just like we do. But they do it with checked hours and sovereign rest breaks.’
Jo turned back to face the room. Her heavy work jacket was soaked with yellow river mud, her curly black hair plastered to her neck. But her dark eyes were bright with skilled satisfaction. She looked at Pella, then at Eren Tal.
