“That partly depends on Yaozu and his men at the Station, and the Chinamen, too. I think we probably need them more than they need us, ’cause they got plenty of men and we don’t. But these shoring rigs”—he pointed at the ceiling, which sagged ominously despite a set of planks that had been braced to hold it—“they’re not worth a damn. Once those engineering fellows finish up in Chinatown—they’re fixing their own blocks first, you know how it goes—they’ll bring the equipment up here and we can buttress our ceiling all proper-like.”

“Equipment?”

“Mostly leftovers from when the Station was built. They’ve got steam-powered machines they’ve refitted to haul, lift, and brace. We couldn’t do it with sweat and elbow grease alone—not unless we had about a thousand more of us than we’ve got. The Chinamen got digging machines over there, too. I don’t understand it myself, but Huey was telling me that sometimes you gotta dig holes in order to fix holes. I just leave that sort of thinking to him.”

“He’s a smart one, that Huey.”

“I didn’t used to care for that kid, or any of the Chinatown folks. But after I got blown up last year, Doctor Wong put me back together. Now my daughter works with him, and she says he’s all right and I have to keep an open mind. So there you go. You can tell her when you see her that I’m keeping an open mind.”

Rector nodded and kept the easy pace set by the big man with the cane. They ducked beneath low-hanging boards and clumps of bricks that had once been arched, and stepped on hollow walkways made of planks where such walkways were available.

And before he could decide what to ask next, Swakhammer said almost softly—or so Rector thought, given the buzzing quality of his words—“I hope we get it fixed up soon. I want it to be safe. For Mercy, if not for me. I mean, if she’s going to be damn fool enough to stay here.”

Sensing an opening, Rector pounced. “Yaozu told me he’s working on it.”

Swakhammer drew up short, then continued. “That’s right, Zeke said he’d called for you, and you’d gone out to the Station. How’d that go, anyhow?”

“Not bad. Mostly he wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to make no trouble.”

“You got a reputation for doing that?”

“No sir, I don’t.

“Got a reputation for fibbing out loud, I bet.”

“Aw, that’s not called for,” Rector protested weakly. “I’m a salesman, is all.”

“Same thing.”

“No sir, it isn’t.”

Swakhammer made a sound that could’ve been a laugh, and pointed the way up a corridor. “Not much farther.”