105
Striding into the Workshop, Milo felt the buzzing bees of irritation calm themselves. They’d been going crazy inside his belly after meeting Padrick in the Common Room.
All the way down the lower levels, Milo had muttered to himself and given a lot of thought to ways he could make good on his promise to kill Padrick.
There were a hundred ways he could think of to do it.
Most involved sniping him while he walked around the city.
How hard could that be?
Grinding his teeth, Milo realized if Padrick died by his hand, it would be worse. Anything suspicious would also automatically come back to him.
He couldn’t just murder him. Or repeat any tactic similar to what he used on Fergus.
Also, why was his first thought to kill him?
Because of the threat.
Paddstone had hinted at torture and death being all they wanted Milo for.
When he’d been a clocker, one of the first things he’d been taught as an apprentice was to be prepared for anything. Especially because he would eventually be tinkering with dwarven clocks, which were notoriously troublesome thanks to small traps which might use such devices as poisoned needles.
More than one apprentice had died to such tricks.
Milo had long ago realized there was something wrong with his brain which made him take that attitude and bring it into his life. He’d tried to always be prepared. Always be ready.
And, where possible, take action first.
Still. He’d never once considered killing another apprentice. Only Fergus had initiated that desire. A desire he admitted he might never have seriously entertained if it weren’t for the need to recover the Prime from the Vault.
“Maybe I should’ve done it another way,” he sighed, coming to a halt in the middle of the room.
“Hello?” a nervous voice asked. “Are you really my engineer?”
He turned, nodding. “Yeah,” he said automatically. “I guess I am.”
“Wow.”
His brain was saying the same thing.
Fed had selected a body type which was softer than the other three golems. Curved where curves liked to be, and slender enough to make those curves look good.
She had bright red hair and green eyes the color of emeralds sparkling in the sun. Reaching up, she carelessly pushed a few threads of hair out of her eye, but they just immediately fell back.
She wore a long white coat, unbuttoned.
Under that, a plain gray skirt.
Almost as short as any Tania would wear.
Milo cleared his throat, trying not to stare. “You’re supposed to wear a shirt under the coat.”
“Why?”
“Because I can see your boobs?”
“What’s wrong with them?” Fed pulled the coat open and jiggled them for him. “Are they too small?”
“No! No, I didn’t say that. I was just saying…” He trailed off with a sigh, knowing there was no point. “Dwarves were such perverts.”
Fed gave him a long stare. “Are you sure you’re my engineer? Tania said you were, but you don’t look like an engineer.”
“What do I look like?”
“Hmm.” She put a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “You look like an apprentice.”
“I was an apprentice clocker.”
“Clocker?”
“I built clocks.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “You’re saying you made clocks and that we’re simple to build because of that? I’m not sure if that’s insulting or not.”
“I just followed your blueprints,” he said with a shrug. “It wasn’t as hard as it sounds. The hardest part was learning to do larger welds.”
“Welds,” she repeated. “Right. Well, engineers are supposed to be a bit weird, I guess. Anyway. My name’s Fedwina Feddington. I’ll be your Personal Assistant from now on, okay? So, whatever you need, you gotta let me know. Whatever you need, alright?”
He stared at her as she showed him a smile that looked as bright as sunshine.
The emphasis she’d put on whatever was a bit suspicious.
“Where’s Tania?”
“She’s out.”
“Selma?”
“Out.”
“And Mila?”
“She had to go out, too.”
“And they left you here,” he said slowly. “Alone. With me. And no shirt on.”
“Sure. Why not?” She grinned. “I’m your Personal Assistant.”
“Alright.” He waved a hand at the Workshop. “So, you’re going to do what you did before?”
“Before?”
“Aren’t you Fed?”
“I am.”
“And I talked to you before you had a body. You used to answer questions.”
“I don’t remember any of that,” she said. “That was before I had a proper core. That was more an automated process. Now, I have a Machine Intelligence Core, so I’m me! Neat, isn’t it? Look! I even have hands. Can I touch you with them?”
“No,” he said.
“Oh.” She didn’t look overly disappointed. “So, what do you want me to do?”
“What can you do?”
“Well, I can do whatever you want.”
“If I want to make another golem, can you help with that?”
“Sure.” She gave him a serious look. “Do you wanna? What kind?”
“Not yet. But you’d do what Fed did before? You’d arrange the parts for me?”
“I can do that.” She nodded, tapping her head. “It’s all up here.”
“What is?”
“Everything?”
“Everything about what?”
“Everything about everything.” She squinted at him. “Are you sure you’re an engineer? Did you finish the orientation course?”
“What orientation course?”
“Oh, buster.” She rolled her eyes. “How have you been running this place?”
“With the pads?”
“Pads?” She looked shocked. “That’s it? And how are you getting materials?”
“Oh, we get them from Spragg.”
“Spragg?” She closed her eyes. “That’s the shop guy, right?”
“Right.”
“Logistics, Milo. I can help with logistics. Because that’s not going to work out. I’m sure this Spragg person is a nice guy and all, but we’re going to need a lot more than some two-bit store can get us. We need warehouses filled.”
“Warehouses?” He gulped a little. “Where am I supposed to get the gold for that?”
“From the gold supply.”
“Gold supply?”
“Milo, this is a dwarven fortress. Can’t you see the manufacturing stations through there? What do you think they use to make things?”
“Materials.”
“Like?”
“Metal, I guess.”
“Right. And while we’re out of some, why do you think that is?”
“No one’s restocked it for a while,” he said, feeling a little impatient.
“Milo.” She gave him a sympathetic look. “Dwarves. Dwarven fortress. What do you think is under your feet?”
“More levels?”
“Going to?”
“No one knows. The mages said there was nothing.”
“That’s probably because the fortress restricted their access. They’d only have Guest access. And guests can’t go to the mines. It’s too dangerous down there.”
“Mines?”
“Mines,” she repeated. “I’d guess the golems down there are falling apart, which is why they’re no longer sending up some metals. We’ll have to go down and see.”
“What?” He suddenly felt even more overwhelmed. “There’s mines down there?”
“How else do you think the dwarves got all the materials they needed?” Fedwina frowned at him. “All this is in the orientation course.”
“I wasn’t told about any orientation course. You didn’t tell me about it. The Prime didn’t tell me about it.”
“You’re an engineer,” she sniffed. “You should be keeping up to date with all your certifications. But I’ll help you with that now, I guess. I’ll set up a calendar for you.”
“Alright,” he said.
She was going too fast. His mind was still stuck on the idea that there were mines under the fortress. But why wouldn’t there be? That’d make sense.
And mining golems would be under a lot of pressure.
A lot more than Stonks had been.
So, they’d probably degraded.
Fedwina was right. He needed to get down there. If all it took was to get those golems moving again, then he should make that a priority.
She was also right that he should do the orientation course.
And it sounded like there were other courses, too.
He grunted. He’d been avoiding classes pretty much ever since he’d arrived at the Academy. Now he really was going to be going to school.
“Where do I start?”
The question hadn’t been meant for her. He’d said it aloud because he was used to talking to himself in the Workshop.
But she bounced on her feet and clapped her hands. “That’s the spirit! Listen to me! Listen to Fedwina and I’ll get you in shape in no time, buster! You wait and see. You’ll be the best engineer ever.”
He smiled at her enthusiasm. It was hard not to.
As she bounced, a pencil fell out of her pocket. She tried to snatch it before it landed and hit her head on the bench. Which made a screwdriver roll off, too.
She dropped to her knees and gave him a look that merged embarrassment with shock. “Owwies!”
Ducking down, he helped her to her feet. “Are you alright?”
“I think so? It happens all the time. I’m getting used to it.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Fedwina sighed and took a step back from him.
The heel of her shoe snapped, and she almost went down again.
All that stopped her was his hand shooting out to grab her elbow as she wobbled.
She looked down, lifting her leg to peer at the broken shoe handing off her foot.
One of the straps was also snapped. “Oops.”
“They’re a bit flimsy,” he said, noting the sandal-like heels.
“But they’re cute!”
“Right.” He shook his head. It was female logic, and he didn’t want to get involved.
She thrust a pad into his hands.
“You gotta sign here, Milo.”
“What?” He looked down and saw a form was on the screen.
“Sign there, and I’ll be your Personal Assistant.”
“What’s it for?”
“It’s just a waiver saying you give me permission to make decisions.”
“What kind of decisions?”
“Oh, lots of stuff. It’s not important. It’s just a formality.”
He squinted at her. “Really?”
“As your Personal Assistant, I’m saying you should sign it.”
“If I don’t?”
Her lower lip wobbled. “Don’t you like me?”
He signed the pad.