The outline of the breakwater has already emerged.
The guiding stone blocks are lined up, securing the port entryway like a line.
Gear transporters glide along the shore, steadily delivering the heavy wooden beams to their respective bases.
The rail crane swings back and forth on an overhead gantry, with thick ropes dropping to lift and place each granite block.
The chief craftsman manages the crew over there, while someone in the middle tests the locking mechanism of the crane boom.
Russell, as the technical director of Dawn Port, stands atop a hill, arms crossed, staring at the row of freshly driven piles.
He remains still until the pile driving stops, then nods slightly.
The workers on the shore see him and greet him, "Lord Russell!"
No one feels that this title is inappropriate.
Russell doesn't respond, just nods faintly.
Yet inside, a subtle feeling arises, this harbor, this dam, surprisingly brings a sense of involvement... even pride.
