Resurrection by Arwen Elys Dayton Page A

being very clever.” He was mixing several of the mineral powders into the liquid, measuring each.
    As he worked, a woman approached them from the workers’ huts. She was covered in blood, and her short, curly hair was disheveled.
    “Your wife, Engineer,” the Lion said softly.
    The Engineer looked up immediately and caught sight of his wife, the Doctor.
    “Stir this for me, would you, Lion?” he said, handing him a spatula and making a stirring gesture. “Keep adding the red stuff slowly until the measuring cup is empty.”
    The Lion complied, and the Engineer met his wife as she approached. She was pulling skintight surgical gloves off of her hands, and she looked exhausted.
    “Two deliveries,” she said, wadding up the gloves and tucking them into the blue smock she wore, which was purple with blood. She pulled the smock off as well. She was petite, with olive skin, dark-brown hair, and green eyes. Though her face was not especially beautiful, something about the whole of her was intelligent and attractive.
    “How are the babies?”
    She ran a hand through her hair and smiled. “They’re fine. One was breach, but I got him out all right. Had to open the mother, but she’s fine as well. They named the baby ‘N-Genir,’ after you.”
    He hugged her. “Well done, darling girl. Would you like to watch your brilliant husband at his latest work?”
    “Sure.” She let him guide her into a sitting position at the table, and sank down gratefully.
    “Hello, Doctor,” the Lion said.
    “Hello, Lion, king of beasts.” It was her pet name for him, because he was, in truth, gentle and thoughtful and not at all ferocious, unless he had good cause. She watched as her husband added more powders and the Lion continued to stir. “Whatever are you doing, darling?”
    “I’m making stone.”
    “What?” both the Lion and the Doctor asked at once.
    “We grow crystal sheets at home to build our buildings, don’t we?” He added a final dash of something grainy and green. “Well, rocks are nothing but crystals, different kinds mixed together. Even metals are actually crystals, on the molecular level. But rocks are much more interesting to look at—marble, diorite, granite. Of course, you can’t build a hundred-story building with rock; it’s not flexible enough. You need special flexi-blends for that. But you could build something smaller.
    “So I’m going to grow rock. These are the ingredients—hornblende, feldspar, quartz, mica.” He gestured to the sacks of mineral powder. “They go into an emulsion, and I’m copying this.” He held up the rock that sat near the cauldron. It was a rough chunk of granite. “When I add the catalyst, each mineral crystal will begin to grow, and when they fill up the mold, I’ll have rock. Help me with this, will you, Lion?”
    Together, they lifted the cauldron and carefully poured it into the crystalline box.
    “Now for the catalyst.” He took a small vial from his pocket and poured it into the mold, then stirred it briskly for a few strokes. Then he placed a top onto the box and bound the whole thing with a strip of flexible plastic, which he secured with a lynchpin. The Lion and Doctor watched raptly.
    “What are you going to build?” his wife asked, never doubting that he would succeed. There had been too much precedent for any doubt.
    “Whatever we want. Better labs, better houses. Isn’t it too bad that the natives only use stone for their graves? Maybe give them something nicer. Grow them houses, really.”
    They waited, the Engineer studying a timepiece that dangled from his belt. The Lion and the Doctor both realized that they were holding their breath in anticipation. Soon the plastic around the mold began to strain. When the Engineer judged the time was right, he picked up a mallet from the table and placed a chisel on the lynchpin. He lifted the mallet and swung it down. As it struck the chisel and the chisel struck the pin, the desert groaned. The groan