The first piece of the new ascent was a hand capstan built for somewhere else.
Renn stood beside its gear train with a pencil tucked behind one ear and both hands full of the wrong drawing. Around him the workhouse had acquired timber, iron, three paid builders and the thick smell of a stove that had been lit before dawn.
Iven took the drawing from his hands and turned it over.
“There.”
Renn stared at the revised line.
“I’ve been looking for that.”
“I noticed.”
The younger man reclaimed the sheet with dignity and went to the frame bench.
