Piper

For once, it worried Francis that he could not hear the machines’ harsh heckling, nor feel the heavy tread of the battle rig that sent its own tremors through the ground as it strode. He began pacing the room; a habit of his. He knew he should stand still. His left knee was bad, and he’d pushed it too far today, down in the caves. If the rig were coming back, he’d feel its heavy tread through the floor.