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The Steel Orb
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The dawn was breaking; stream after stream of golden, many-hued light poured over the edge of the city. We both sat in silence.
Fortress seemed completely relaxed.
I was not.
"Fortress, I did not win our race."
Fortress's eyes greeted the sun.
"I know."
He drank in more of the light, and said, "Would you like to have another race?"
Time passed.
"You can choose who makes his wagon first."
"You make your wagon first."
I drew a breath.
"It must be painful for a Teacher to watch his pupil descend into filth and have to rescue him and carry him back."
"To me, that is a very good day."
I looked at his face, trying to find sarcasm or irony.
I found none.
"Why?"
"Clamp was my pupil."
I didn't know what to say. I fumbled for words. I tried to meet his pain.
"You seem very happy for a man with no children."
I saw tears welling up in his eyes.
I began to stammer.
He said, "Let's go and build our cars. If you want, you can take the silt board so you can design your wagon while I'm building mine. A fair match would be balm to my soul."
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Longer Fiction >
The Steel Orb
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