The vibration engine had been running for three hours when Arthur Pendelton first understood what it was doing.
He stood in the threshold of his father's laboratory, his fingers still warm from gripping the brass door handle, and watched the portrait of his father hang on the far wall begin to change. The canvas, which had for twenty years depicted a stern-faced man in a frock coat holding a pocket watch, was becoming something else entirely. The three-dimensional paint was flattening, compressing...
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