Beneath the Cylinders

Benjamin Hale had arrived at one firm conclusion about the internal combustion engine.

It had far too many small parts that wanted to escape.

On Tuesday morning, he stood beside Training Engine 03 and stared down into the exposed crankcase. Yesterday, the machinery above the block had felt difficult enough. Today, Instructor Mercer meant to drag them into the dark iron belly where the real violence took place.

"Right," Mercer said, planting both palms on the edge of Bench Three. "Yesterday was the parlor work. Valves, rockers, and sparks. Today we go into the basement."

Samuel Croft grinned, adjusting the leather suspenders over his broad shoulders. "Pistons."

"Pistons," Mercer agreed.

"Connecting rods," Croft added.

"Connecting rods."

"The crank."

"The crank."

Croft nudged Benjamin's ribs with an elbow as hard as a hickory felloe. "This is where the music happens, carpenter."