The sound that followed the successful compilation of the Jiuzhou Plane kernel was not thunder. It was the roar of sixteen million ancient channels clearing from a cold dead stop to maximum capacity.
SKRRRRRRREEEEEECH—!
The high-pitched turbine whine sliced through the mountain peaks. It shook the dragon-bone marble with enough sound force to rattle teacups three leagues away. Frank right away clapped both hands over his yellow spun-glass hard hat. He pressed the ear cups of his hearing protection firmly against his skull.
“Ear-splitting bearing screech!” Frank grimaced, his teeth shaking in his jaw. “The air-flow sleeves haven’t had a drop of thirty-weight grease in ten thousand years! The housings are dry and the rotor blades are out of balance!”
His five students reacted with practiced worksite discipline. Shen Shitou reached into his heavy equipment pouch and handed pairs of bright orange foam earplugs to Ling’er, Niu Mang, Xiao Yu, and Murong Seven. They rolled the foam tightly between their fingers. Then they pushed in them into their ears, sealing out the clockwork shriek with approved thirty-two-decibel noise reduction.
Across the tiered arena, however, the six thousand fighters didn’t possess heavy-duty earplugs. To them, the ear-splitting scream was the Roar of the Celestial Dragon of Genesis. The primal shaking of the universe awakening from its hundred-thousand-year sleep!
