The Faded Shield
The tensioner on Loom Four was slipping, a rhythmic, sickening slide that Elias Thorne felt in the soles of his boots before he saw it with his eyes. He stopped the machine, the sudden silence of the shuttle’s flight hanging in the heavy, loom-room air, and ran his fingers over the brass housing, feeling the heat of the metal and the subtle, dangerous vibration that meant the caliper was no...
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