5
The saw buzzed loudly, the sharp blade tearing through the air as it flashed towards Milo.
Acting purely by instinct, he leapt away and felt the blade slice where his head had been only a moment before. The arm whirled with an angry hiss and lunged at him again.
Rolling on the ground, Milo let out a sound that was half growl and half scream.
“But I finished it!” he shouted at the yellow core. “I finished it, didn’t I?”
The yellow core flashed, beeping loudly. It seemed as angry as he was.
In front of the core, the little spidery construct he’d made gave a twitch of one of its legs.
The saw ripped down and smashed into the granite between Milo’s legs. Chips of stone spat into his face as the blade shrieked loudly.
He scampered away from it. But it followed relentlessly, ripping easily through stone tiles.
“Blast this!” Milo groaned as his back slammed into the wall.
Nowhere to go.
Faced with the flashing horror of a spinning sawblade.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the spidery construct he’d made suddenly leap off the table and skitter towards him. Its shining quartz core blinked rapidly as it skidded to a half in front of the blade and started emitting a series of cricket-like chirps and whistles.
The saw lifted high over the construct, which waved its two front arms furiously.
The saw trembled.
Paused above the little construct’s quaking form.
Then slowly retracted back into the ceiling with an almost embarrassed clatter.
As soon as the roof closed up to hide the saw, the red flashing lights switched to a calm muted blue and the yellow core on the table let out a series of relieved beeps which the spider golem in front of Milo responded to with a quick chirp.
Welcome, Engineer.
The words rumbled from somewhere behind the walls. It seemed to come from everywhere, but also from nowhere. They were distinctly feminine, which Milo felt was a little strange. There was also a slight husky, alluring note to them. Weird.
“Engineer?” Milo, his back still pressed to the wall, turned his head this way and that as he tried to find the source. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”
I am the Workshop, Engineer. Please hold while authorization is confirmed.
“Authorization?”
The spider golem danced around to face him, waving its arms with excitement as it chittered happily at him. Milo blinked down at it.
It was moving.
A thing he had made was moving.
Mouth dry, he reached out slowly and picked the thing up. It made a whirring sound and its legs clamped gently around his wrist. The thing’s body wasn’t bigger than his palm. Each leg only as long as one of his fingers.
But it was moving.
And making noises.
It seemed to be looking up at him, but he wasn’t sure how it could see.
Its gears gave a happy whir as he turned it over before putting it back down on the ground. It hopped on two legs before scampering away like an insect. It was fast!
As soon as it jetted off, the yellow core flashed again and another pulse swept through the room. The pulse whipped through him. He felt it like a warm breath.
Then the wall started to part behind the table. Slowly, they opened to reveal a massive open area.
Entrance to the Workshop is granted, Engineer.
Pushing himself up the wall, he took a hesitant step towards the opening.
“Are you going to kill me?”
Termination Order is not in effect.
“Is that a yes or no?”
It is a negative, Engineer.
He squinted into the light. “Are you sure?”
Access Permission has been granted, Engineer. Termination of Engineers is against protocol.
“Against protocol,” he repeated softly. It still didn’t sound very convincing to him.
But as his eyes adjusted, he found his worries being swept away.
The feminine voice had called itself a Workshop. And it wasn’t lying.
There were benches built into small alcoves. They looked to have different purposes. Lights illuminated their tops. Though it was easy to see they’d seen plenty of use in the past, they were clear of debris and there were no tools laying around.
No clutter.
Everything was in slots along the walls. Screwdrivers of all sizes. Hammers, pliers, pincers, spanners, and more of the soldering irons. Countless more familiar-looking tools were neatly arrange along the walls.
And other things which looked more exotic.
Hand saws and drills with gun-like grips.
Strange rods covered in gems.
Everything showed sign of use, but was still clean.
Someone had loved this place. Someone had treasured every screwdriver.
The clocker in him felt a warm buzz as it realized this place had belonged to someone like him. Someone who respected their tools. Who cleaned their benches after use.
Who even swept the floors because yes, Milo knew how to use a broom.
Gulping, he took a step into the Workshop.
Several rooms branched off the main area. Through one, he could see a forge which seemed to be glowing already. A river of thick molten metal was slowly pouring out of a spout into a mold. As he watched, the mold filled with glowing metal, then an arm pushed it down into water.
Steam hissed.
Then the part was lifted from the water by a sturdy-looking arm which reached out to place the part into a waiting tray. The tray clattered as the part, which looked like a strut, was lifted by another arm where it was swept back into a recess in the wall where it disappeared into the darkness.
Shaking his head, he crept into the Workshop and stood with his eyes wide and heart hammering in his chest.
“What is this place?”
This is the Workshop, Engineer.
“And you… you’re the Workshop?”
That is correct.
He turned on his heels, looking around. He heard a clang from one room and took a step back. But instead of some machine of whirring death, the little spider golem sprinted out from the room, with something in its arms.
Something much larger than itself. It looked like a rectangle of Dwarven Glass.
Skidding to a halt in front of him, it waved the glass up at him.
“You want me to take it?”
The spider golem bobbed up and down.
He reached down and took the glass, unsure why it wanted him to have it. Maybe it was like a dog and had simply fetched the first thing it could carry.
“Thank you, I guess…”
He was about to put the glass down when he saw a small switch on the side of the glass. Curious, he flicked it.
The glass flickered.
Then, like in the testing room, it lit up brightly and more dwarven runes danced across the screen.
Shocked, he watched as a little white circle appeared. It looked like it was filling with color. Thankfully, it was green and not red, so he assumed it wasn’t about to explode.
At least, he hoped it wouldn’t.
“What is this?”
It is a Workpad, Engineer.
“A Workpad?”
The Workpad will connect to the Workshop to allow constructs to receive instructions.
Milo was torn between confusion and delirious awe.
If the voice in the walls was right, then he thought it was saying with this device, he could convey orders to the little spider golem.
“Wait,” he said. “You said constructs? You mean golems, right? As in plural?”
Affirmative, Engineer.
“So, how many can I control?”
There is currently no limitation.
His mouth dropped open and he nearly dropped the Workpad. “What? None? You’re saying I can control as many golems as I want?”
Affirmative, Engineer.
He gulped again as he tried to imagine it. An army of golems at his command. What could he do with them?
A slow grin spread across his face as he thought about it.
What couldn’t he do with them?
He thought about the forge in the other room. It was making parts. He was sure of it.
“Do you have a supply of golem parts?”
Affirmative, Engineer. All stores are at maximum.
“Maximum!” He felt a thrill as his mind conjured armies of spider golems whirring down the corridors. “And how many golems could I make right now?”
The Workshop stores primary components for up to two hundred units.
“Two Hundred!” He rubbed his hands together. “That’s a lot. Are you capable of making more complex designs than the spider golem?”
The Workshop library is extensive, Engineer. I possess designs for fifty-two construct types.
“That doesn’t sound like a lot…”
The Dwarven Repository holds designs for over ten thousand construct types, Engineer.
“Is that one of these rooms?”
The Repository is currently out of range of the Workshop, Engineer. Access to the Prime is required.
“The Prime? What’s that?”
The Prime is the Prime.
“Not helpful,” he muttered, then brightened again. “But I guess I can use what you have already and sort the rest out later! I’m not sure where to start, to be honest.”
As he spoke, the Workpad gave a light chime and then the screen flared brightly to show a series of icons and strange lettering. None of which made sense to him.
Wincing, he held it up.
“Umm, Workshop? Do you have any way to help me translate Dwarven?”
I am proficient in Human and can upgrade all Workshop components.
“That’d be… good?”
Commencing translation matrix override from Dwarven to Human. Process will take ten Human hours.
Milo scratched his head and a smile settled on his face. Maybe the mages hadn’t completely ruined his life after all. How else would he have had this opportunity to discover the Workshop? He took a deep breath. Burnt metal. Grease.
The smells of toil.
The smells of home.