Lin Tao mounted the bronze upkeep ladder beneath the live quartz channel.
The heat-rising heat streaming from the spinning star-white-gold spindle was blistering. At a surrounding heat of sixty degrees, the air felt like breathing boiling water. His canvas trousers smoked where they brushed against the bronze housing. The bitter pine-resin grease on his face began to liquefy. He ran into his eyes in stinging, aromatic rivulets.
He cradled the man-made white jade shard under his left arm, protecting the delicate stone facets against his canvas coat.
With his right hand, he withdrew his four-inch land-mapper metal pen.
The input socket was shielded by a spring-loaded bronze shutter designed to prevent foreign debris from entering the high-voltage waveguide. A thick layer of dried, rusted stone grease had cemented the shutter in its closed position. Through the seam, blinding violet arcs snapped every few seconds, scorching the bronze lip black.
“Hold the ladder steady, Old Chen!” Lin Tao shouted down through the wind.
“I have the legs, Master Lin!” Old Chen bellowed back, bracing his entire muscular frame against the base of the bronze ladder.
Lin Tao took a deep, steadying breath, centering his chest muscle. He leaned his hips against the ladder rungs, freeing both hands.
