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Without a wagon and a team and the steam hoist, how could anyone steal the
iron plate? But why had he considered the need for locks?
Blacktop! called Moryn. Before we start loading, we. need to get the steam
lift up and working. You ll help Hasyn. Shovel coal into the wheelbarrow and
bring several loads over to the boiler on the lower level. The coal pile is
over there.
Shoveling coal again? Maybe he was still part loader.
He went to the kiosk, where he stripped off the khaki shirt and set the bread
under the counter. He wasn t going to shovel coal in a clean shirt. Then he
headed off to find the shovel and wheelbarrow.
Both were beside the coal pile, and he quickly filled the wheelbarrow, then
jammed the shovel into the coal and began to trundle his load in the direction
of the steam hoist. As he neared the dock, he could see the boiler was on the
lower level and Hasyn the older man he d been sitting beside on the wagon.
Hasyn was coaxing a fire from the banked coals remaining from the night before
when Blacktop pushed the squeaky wheelbarrow up and stopped short of the open
firebox door.
Hasyn looked up, then offered a wry smile. Guess I m stuck with you. I m
Hasyn.
Blacktop.
Can you lay down a shovelful of the coal just short of the reddish ones,
spread out so they re not all clumped together.
Blacktop nodded. He eased the shovel into the coal and wiggled it so that
there was a thinner layer of coal spread across the metal, then lifted it and
eased the coal into place.
Good. Styun never did figure that out.
Another shovel?
Against the back.
Following Hasyn s instructions, Blacktop loaded the firebox under the boiler,
emptying the wheelbarrow, then took the wheelbarrow back for another two loads
of coal. One he added to the fire, the other he left, with the shovel.
Obliged, said the steam mech. After a moment, he added, There s a
wash-water barrel over there. It s the one with the red slash. The blue one is
for drinking.
Thank you.
Just don t take the histories too serious. The scriveners who wrote them
never worked a loading dock or much of anything.
That was probably true enough, reflected Blacktop as he headed for the wash
barrel to get the coal dust off his hands and arms. Then again, the mage-guard
had said that he d once been a scrivener.
For some reason, that thought created a tightness in his guts, and his fists
had clenched without his even thinking about it. He forced himself to take a
deep breath. Things were better than they had been. Getting angry wouldn t
help. It wouldn t.
Except that he knew the anger and rage was still there, deep within.
LXV
For the next eightday, Blacktop continued his careful routine, following all
instructions, and not intruding on anyone. The other checkers no longer stared
at him the shorter haircut by the barber on sevenday had doubtless helped with
that but none did more than address him civilly. While Hasyn, whom Blacktop
often saw in the reading room, occasionally passed a few words with the
younger man, mostly the steam mech remained pleasantly aloof.
Page 174
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On a sixday evening, with little else to do, Blacktop sat on one of the
benches in the reading room, a heavy book in his hands. He glanced up at the
sound of footsteps, then dropped his eyes to the text when he saw that the man
entering the chamber was Hasyn.
Still reading that balderdash?
In fact, Blacktop had continued to read A World Geography and History. He knew
that he would find something in it that would help him remember more of his
past. He just didn t know how or what.
It s interesting.
Ought to read something that ll teach you.
After I finish this, you can suggest something.
By then, it ll be high summer.
I don t think I ll be going anywhere, Hasyn.
The mech laughed, eased a book from its place on the shelves, then took the
bench farthest from the one occupied by Blacktop.
The checker reread the paragraph he had begun earlier.
& so-called founders of Recluce were anything but poor souls seeking a land
for those oppressed by the hegemony of Fairhaven. Recluce was created by the
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