Aloft (Petronaut Tales) Read Online Free

do.  But there are a thousand people in this town who can do what you do, and I could hire any of them to replace you like that.”  Upforth snapped in his face three times, moving his hand closer to Cooper’s nose each time.  “You are replaceable.  Say it.”
    “I am replaceable.”
    Upforth glared up at him.  His tirade was losing traction in the face of Cooper’s submissive attitude.  “That’s right,” he said, marking time as he waited for inspiration.  “Talk yourself up like that in front of a client one more time and you’ll never work in the Row again.”
    Cooper just stood there, shoulders slightly stooped, looking as unimposing as possible for a man of his size.  Skye was long gone, shaking her head at the theatrics.
    Upforth gave a series of vigorous nods, satisfied by the display of contrition.  “Spheres help you if you screw this up, Carper,” he said.  “I just hope you can muster up the brainpower to keep up with this Ensie.  It’s gonna get real technical, real fast.  Try not to pass out.”
    “I’ll try not to pass out.”
    “Good.”
    The men stared at each other.
    “Get this wood out of my face,” Upforth finally snarled, slapping one of the boards on its underside.  The whole load rattled in the back of the cart.  It was a sufficiently authoritative noise to make an exit on, so Upforth turned on his heel and went to make important gossip with the other civilian work bosses.
    Cooper staggered towards the wall with a pair of four-meter beams tucked under his armpit.  It was all he could manage to keep the lumber balanced without clocking any passers-by with the blunt wooden lance in front of him or the tail behind him.  The wood was digging into his ribcage painfully, and he was sure his muscles would pay for the awkward position later that night.  And yet, mysteriously, he couldn’t seem to keep a smile off his face as he worked his way to the wall and back.
     

 
    The drafting room was cramped as a spheric’s cloistered cell.  The six-by-ten box of a workspace was dominated by a lacquered desk, sized for the parchment sheets a drafter would fill with precise blue lines.  Straight-edges, a protractor, and enough stencils to amuse a schoolhouse full of idle children hung from hooks on either side of the desk, and a wooden cup of fine steel-blue charcoal sticks rested in a corner of the angled work surface.  A gaslight was embedded dead center in the low ceiling, though there was more than enough sunlight from the window to keep the room more in light than in shadow at this time of day.
    Ensie smoothed out the dog-eared corner of the blueprints for the dozenth time.  She shifted her weight on the bench, feeling the warmth of the sun on the back of her neck.  She was too poor to own a watch, but she resisted the temptation to duck out into the hallway again and check the sepia-faced clock mounted on the wall.  It had been 10:20 on the spot when she’d checked it moments ago.  That meant that, by now, twenty-five minutes at most had passed since she’d left Mister Upforth and the rest of his team.  And Upforth had said Cooper— or was it Carper?— would meet her in fifteen minutes.  But the drafting room might be hard to find, for a civilian who’d never seen the Aerial compound before.  And there had been an awful lot of wood left in that cart for just one person to move quickly.  Even someone so tall, with those big arms and broad shoulders…
    “You need to get a hold of yourself,” she said aloud, pressing her palm against the desk.  She closed her eyes. 
    You’re an Aerial technician.  Your ‘naut wants a consultation from a civilian firm.  You’ve been trusted with getting information vital to the success of your project.  This is Business with a capital B.  Not some kind of private—
    —and don’t you dare even finish that thought, because seriously: this is Business.
    She scratched the space between her too-thick eyebrows as she