Dry Dock No. 4
One Month Later
The second month of construction did not begin with speeches.
It began with calculations.
Phillip stood on a scaffold overlooking the skeleton of the vessel—steel ribs arched across the dry dock like the bones of some enormous creature rising from the ground. The morning light hit the metal surfaces, painting them in shades of cold silver and warm orange.
Below, the shipyard workers no longer looked confused.
They looked busy.
Organized.
Efficient.
Pairs of riveters moved with practiced rhythm, hammering red-hot rivets into place before they cooled. Naval engineers debated turret ring tolerances with draftsmen from Imperial Dynamics. Foundry operators tested steel hardness using makeshift Rockwell testers built from improvised weights and indentor pins.
Henry stood beside Phillip, coat stained with grease, carrying three ledgers. Not one—three.
