Some were museum pieces. There was even a gandy
cart, though no rails for it to run on.
They were almost at the main tent when a crow flew down and yelled
something in Nema's ear. She scowled, and nodded. "I'm needed back," she
said. "Most of the men here--" She pointed to the gangs that moved about
busily doing nothing, all in costumes similar to his, except for the
boots and hat. "They're mandrakes, conjured into existence, but without
souls. The engineers we have are snatched from Duality just after dying
and revived here while their brains still retain their knowledge. They
have no true souls either, of course, but they don't know it. Ah. The
short man there--he's Garm. Sersa Garm, an apprentice to Ser Perth. He's
to be your foreman, and he's real."
She headed back to the outskirts, then turned to shout back. "Sather
Karf says you may have ten days to fix the sky," she called. Her hand
waved toward him in friendly good-bye. "Don't worry, Dave Hanson. I have
faith in you."
Then she was running toward her reluctant carpet.
Dave stared up at the mottled dome above him and at the dull
clod--certainly a mandrake--who was still carrying the sample. With all
this preparation and a time limit, he couldn't even afford to stall.
He'd never fully understood why some plastics melted and others turned
hard when heated, but he had to find what was wrong with the dome above
and how to fix it.
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