In the low hum of a futuristic workshop
Where robotic arms danced in synchronous harmony, Ivan Malinov wrestled with a panel of crystalline graphene, his modern equivalent of an ancient craftsman's board. It shimmered under neon lights, giving off a pale blue hue. The room was filled with floating holo-displays, each providing real-time diagnostics and analytics to help him perfect his craft. Lifting a translucent caul made from intelligent polymers, Ivan positioned it with precision, as the AI assistant hummed a soft, approving note.
Ivan wore a sleek suit—black with silver undertones—that adjusted to the contours of his muscular frame, giving him the look of a 23rd-century artisan warrior. His intense focus was on the line of sight shared between the caul and panel, nodding as the caul's nano-sensors established a perfect bind. The world outside this room was wildly different—a city sprawling upwards, reclaiming space ignored for centuries beneath layers of cosmic dust.
Ivan's mind, however, wandered to the world as it once was, or as Earth legends told. Stories of carpenters battling nature to bend wood to their will, tales of honor, lineage, and the craftsmanship passed from one generation to another. His father often shared these stories before the Great Exodus—the departure of humanity from its cradle to colonize stars scattered across the universe like lighthouses guiding lost ships. Ivan leaned over to the panel, sealing one imperfection after another, allowing himself a moment to relish the process he had always seen his father perfect.
A clatter broke the serene whirl of his workshop
Ivan looked up, catching sight of Mariko, his assistant, lugging a cylindrical holography tool. She was a whirlwind of energy, her hair resembling a wild array of luminescent wires.
"You can still make time for antiques," she grinned, setting the tool down on a pulsating console. "You know the Council has granted you access to planetary terraforming duties after this."
Ivan stretched his broad back, a hint of a smile dancing on his lips. "It’s a respite, Mariko. A meditation. And anyway, even ancients had their rituals,” he retorted.
Mariko rolled her eyes in good humor. "Right. Because woodworkers used to wrestle their 'octopuses' to the ground with just as much fervor!"
Ivan chuckled, the memory of an old documentary drifted back—the legendary Stumpy Nubs, a man who could mold wood as if it had been clay, with only hope and elbow grease. "You missed the point," Ivan mused, "He proved even the most stubborn boards could transform under the hands of a determined artist. This is no different."
Allowing himself another pause, his thoughts meandered to Bianca, the woman who haunted his dreams like a ghost of forgotten love. She was the daughter of a small-time magnet-wave artisan, their lives intermingling like unstable ions in their youth. When duty called Ivan to the stars, their bond remained unspoken, an unfinished work waiting to be realized.
Mariko observed him thoughtfully, her fierce eyes softening. "The Council's going to need you soon, Ivan. Terraforming isn't just in your hands—it's in your soul. A craftsman at heart, no matter the century." She allowed a beat of silence before adding, "But it's Bianca you think of, isn't it?"
A murmur slipped from Ivan's lips, barely audible beneath the workspace's ambient noise. "Yes. We have our paths. But even stars need constellations to define them."
As Ivan finished the panel, a sense of accomplishment wrapped itself around him. Each line, groove, and edge aligned flawlessly, echoing a thousand artisans before him who fought similar battles with different tools. Yet, at this moment, it wasn’t just about building a new world; it was about preserving the heart of the old.
A siren blared through the static
Alerting them to duty imminent. Ivan and Mariko glanced toward the command holo, reading their departure orders. The replica of their new world awaited them—a blueprint needing only the touch of those who could envision its infinite possibilities.
"Ready when you are, artisan," Mariko playfully prodded, assembling her gear with precision.
Ivan nodded, taking a final, long look at the crystalline board lying in triumph before him. "To new beginnings and restored traditions," he whispered, stepping forward to rejoin the ever-expanding frontier.
As they ventured to the ship that would carry them through the endless void, Ivan carried with him his father's tales and Bianca's quiet promise—the reminder that each board, panel, or planet bears witness to their legacy of artifice and love, yearning always for an unseen completion, one crafted for eternity.
The Source...check out the great article that inspired this amazing short story: Never Worry About Woodworking Clamps Again with DeWalt’s Top Tools and Tips
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