Giriko was sweating, too, even more than Henry. There was obviously effort in what he was doing, as he shifted his hand around on the surface of the machine and the tenor of the machine's noises changed.

Slowly, gradually, the screams quieted to atonal humming, almost like a contented - but insane - feline. The puffs of steam abated, and the thrumming calmed to a whisper.

Giriko sat back and wiped his brow, shoving the panel back into place with one boot. "Fucking piece of crap," he said affectionately. "Needed recalibratin'."

He looked up at Henry with a self-satisfied grin. "The Demon Tools are genius, but they're so fuckin' delicate. It's a pain in the ass to get them just right. Guess you ain't much into machines, right?"