The very thing they protested was the thing they needed most.
He shook off the thought and walked into the atrium. The wide marble floor shone, reflecting light from the crystal chandelier above. It hung suspended from a glass dome in the epicenter of the curved roof, which branched out into plaster moldings depicting the four seasons, one in each corner. Danny spotted a couple of mechanics leaning against the railing of the mezzanine above. Their laughter echoed across the atrium.
Danny climbed the long, winding flight of stairs that led to the first-floor offices. He bypassed them as the stairs curved again, away from the atrium, toward the back of the building where the classrooms were. The hallways here were long and wide, painted a shade of citrine the older mechanics insisted was once gold.
He passed murals and framed paintings, classrooms full of chattering apprentices and lecturing professors, before he climbed one more flight of stairs and found himself at the Lead Mechanic’s door.
The secretary saw him and waggled her fingers toward the office. “Go on in,” she said. “He’ll be along shortly.”
In the Lead’s office, Danny sat tapping his fingers against his knees. He told himself not to be nervous, that he was just submitting the assignment report. They were normally turned in to the secretary, but the Lead had requested this particular report in person.
Danny hoped he had done enough.
The Lead’s desk was wide and cluttered. One corner was occupied by a kinetic toy that dangled four metal balls from cords. Danny’s chair groaned as he leaned forward and lifted the ball farthest on the right, then let it fall. He watched them bounce back and forth until the door opened behind him.
“Hello, Daniel.” The Lead was short but broad, with a dark mustache and a balding head. He looked like the sort of man who would wish you a good morning whether you were an acquaintance or a stranger.
The Lead tossed a pile of papers onto his desk, glanced at the source of the clicking noise, and wrapped his hand around the metal balls to make them stop.
“Was it all that bad?” the Lead asked.
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Your face gives away everything. It always has.” The man settled at his desk. Behind him stretched a wide window painted with the colors of approaching dusk. “Tell me what happened.”
Danny gave a verbal report as he handed over the written one. It had come out to only one page, hastily scrawled on crumpled parchment he’d found at the bottom of his bag. He hadn’t had time to find real paper; he was much too anxious to find out what the Lead had to say.
The Lead skimmed the report with a critical eye, then set it down. “It sounds as if everything went well.” Danny wondered if he caught a hint of surprise beneath the words.
“I suppose it did.”
“Don’t be modest, Daniel. This was a medium-risk assignment, and you pulled it off. That’s something to be proud of.” He smiled, and Danny started to smile, too. Before, he had never questioned praise. Now, it sat tepid and uncertain at the bottom of his rib cage, afraid to rise too high lest it pop like a bubble under atmospheric pressure.
“I was afraid it would be too much for you,” the Lead continued. “This is certainly a successful first step.”
The bubble popped and Danny’s smile vanished. He resisted the urge to slip down into his seat. First step. He’d made so many steps since becoming a mechanic, followed by several large steps back. Now he was lost somewhere in the middle.
Still, he forced himself to reply with a small “Thank you, sir.”
The Lead read through the report again. “Was the apprentice agreeable?” It was known throughout the ranks that Danny Hart never got along with his apprentices. Several were on a list of those never to be reassigned to him again due to back talk, piss-poor attitudes, or in one case, body odor.
Danny regretted yelling at Brandon. He hadn’t deserved it, not really, even if he was a dalcop who didn’t know what a micrometer was.
“No,” Danny said. “But too quiet, if you ask me.”
The Lead rested his arms on the desk and leaned forward. “You look peaky.”
And there it was. He couldn’t avoid it. As soon as word had spread that he’d been hospitalized, people had started looking at him differently. Talking to him differently. Quiet, cautious, like he would crumble to dust at the slightest provocation.
“I’m fine, sir,” Danny said, “although it wasn’t the assignment I expected.”
“Don’t dip your toe in the water to get used to it, jump in headfirst.”
Danny had some things to say about that, but wisely kept them behind sealed lips.
“Now, about the missing numeral,” the Lead went on. “I’ve heard nothing from the investigation crew. Did you happen to see anything suspicious while you were there? Anyone lingering near the tower or avoiding it?”
“I couldn’t tell with the crowd. I got a good look at the clock face, but I didn’t see any marks or scratches.”