“‘I thought we did everything with a paintbrush!’ ‘Later! When they’re done, we’ll hand-cut through the layers closer to the concretion…lever them off.’ Anna was shouting, her voice tinny in Scott’s ear. Even with ear protectors on, everyone could hear and feel the sound of metal on rock, its echo, the pulses of the generator and compressors. Over by the cliff, the same thing was happening; if one team was quiet, the other was not. When at last the noise did stop echoing from the cliffs, the... silence following it seemed unreal: a weird, Zenish, cloudlike thing that descended on them: a happy nothing happeningness, just the buzz of crickets and other bugs while they studied the ground, tapped and pried, brushed, scraped and sifted. They had knee protectors, although not everyone wore them. They squatted or knelt on the rock, looking down at what was before them, trying to see how it was made and how it would break. No one said much; no one took an extra break, even when the sun hung right above them, burning up the shade.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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