Hart’s workshop was a small place set a block back from the city’s edge. Parts small and large scattered the benches lining the walls; the only clear flat surface was the table beneath the window where Hart sat working on the turbine of a sensor platform.
“These the plans?” Rebbecca asked, examining the blueprints tacked to a corkboard by the door.
“That’s them. Still think you’re crazy.”
“You know as well as I that it’s necessary.”
“I surely do, Becky. Wasn’t an insult.”
Rebbecca smiled. “I’m going before the council tomorrow. I’ll need you there, if you can spare the time.”