119
Milo felt light as a feather.
So far, everything was going as planned.
The Headmaster had called a meeting and his name hadn’t been mentioned at all. The Paddstones had accepted Padrick’s loss, and the dungeon portal had been closed.
There was no way to retrieve the body.
Of course, Fallon Paddstone had been vocal about it being a conspiracy where the Mage Court had worked with the Academy to murder both his sons. He claimed it was punishment for his trying to make a peaceful trading relationship with the Empire.
The smell of a conspiracy was a pleasant scent to many locals, but it was balanced by the arrogant reputation of the Paddstones.
The Mage Court had released their own version of events saying the dungeons could not be altered and that Padrick had simply proven himself to be not as talented as his father thought.
They also released more information showing how they’d colluded with Fulka to steal from the Academy Vault, which had resulted in Fergus’ death.
Made public, the information only riled Fallon more, and he denounced it as lies.
The Court itself was split.
Some demanded more investigations. Independent investigations. They demanded Fallon be allowed to leave them, as he would be non-partisan and non-political.
In all that noise, Milo had mostly been unmentioned.
War was coming, though. Milo knew it. All he could do was get ready for it.
The agents left in the Academy were buzzing around like bees, but their focus was entirely on the breadcrumbs he’d left them for Padrick.
They’d spoken to him a few times, and he’d kept things fairly simple. He didn’t know Padrick. Sure, he’d crossed verbal swords with him once, but Milo was content to just stay out of his way.
He cared only about studying for dungeons.
The teachers and Ket had already shared their opinions of him, so this matched the agents’ expectations.
Vesna had been spoken to at length, but she was used to hiding her thoughts. The two agents knew she was hiding something, but they assumed it was something to do with her family and just how much they’d been working with Padrick.
Vesna was adamant, though, that her family didn’t want to be involved.
She hadn’t wanted to be involved either. She even put forward a theory that it must have been Padrick who had killed Tamper Stern to put pressure on her by taking away someone who could have protected her from him.
Even Milo had been impressed by that leap of logic.
He hadn’t thought to pull Tamper’s death into their final jigsaw, but clearly Vesna had a sharper brain than even he was giving her credit for.
The agents seemed to like her theory.
Milo was on his stool at his workbench. In front of him was a large box of cores. Simple Machine Cores which he could recharge and sell to the Farringhams. He felt he owed them that much now.
He still wasn’t sure if he’d offer to repair their recharger, but he was slightly leaning in favor of it. Watching how the agents had treated Vesna like she was a delicate little flower, had made him realize the benefits of having a powerful family standing in front of him.
They could shield him, he thought.
And he didn’t think they’d mind at all. In fact, if he could repair their recharger, he thought they’d do it happily.
He didn’t need to think about whether any were Machine Intelligence Cores.
Tania had collected all she could find. She’d even gone through the cores Vesna had delivered the day before. True to her word, the Farringham girl had given him everything she’d collected.
And there were a lot.
That hadn’t deterred Tania. Spent the night carefully checking them all and separating them. She put the normal cores into the box with the others, and the Machine Intelligence Cores were being placed in small boxes she’d had a local craftsman make.
Lined with velvet, they held each crystal like a precious pearl.
Very plush and luxurious.
The price had been high, but he hadn’t considered telling her not to spend their gold that way.
The recordings, one of which was playing while he worked, showed the dwarves clearly treated each Machine Intelligence Core with the utmost respect.
He’d asked her about it.
She said it was because the core was her. If her body got damaged, Milo could rebuild her. If her power core got destroyed, he could replace it.
But if her Machine Intelligence Core was damaged, then she would no longer be able to come back.
She’d be dead.
Forever.
There’d been an intense look on her face when she’d told him that, and he knew there was more she wanted to say. But the Prime had clearly locked out some information from him still.
Maybe if he could unlock the other parts of the fortress, such as the Mining Station, the Prime would unlock more.
For now, he wouldn’t push it.
The dwarf on the pad was huffing about fingernails. He didn’t like the way they couldn’t be painted. Why did they have to come with one color? The fact that normal nail polish would erode the nail wasn’t a good enough reason to him.
He thought if it eroded thanks to something so simple as nail polish, then they should look at a different material.
He threw his hands in the air, saying even dwarven bronze would be better.
Milo smiled at the dwarf’s attitude. He was beginning to appreciate their gruff sense of humor. It was different to most humans, but it reminded him a lot of the humor of the clockers he’d worked with.
A dry, almost practical humor.
He pulled out another core. This one was a sapphire. It glinted nicely.
As he held it, he started to wonder.
Why were the gems all different? Why not just pick a simple gemstone, like quartz, and just leave it at that? Why were there differences in color, size, and material?
At first, he’d thought it was efficiency.
But the more he listened to the dwarves, he never once heard them complain about the efficiency of the cores. Or anything else about them.
The worst he’d heard was one complaining that the seats made of silicon would look better if they were gold or platinum.
He said he understood why they weren’t, but couldn’t they consider at least working to make a golden alloy?
Didn’t their golems deserve it?
He turned the sapphire in his fingers, admiring the way the light caught it.
And then a strange sound made him look to the screen.
The dwarf was crying.
Not just a little. He was sobbing. He was holding a piece of fingernail in one hand, holding it between thumb and forefinger. And tears were streaming down from his eyes.
“It has to be the best,” he sobbed, his voice cracking in a way which made Milo’s heart break.
“She deserves the best. She won’t want it like this.
None of them will. Will they? Think of them.
Your wife. Your daughter. Will she want to change her nails easily?
Think of them. I think of her all the time.
I want to hold her in my arms again. I want to feel her joy on my skin.
It is not just a nail. It is their nail.
Think of them, you bastards! Think of them… ”
His voice faded into static as the recording ended.
Leaving Milo staring at the screen.
The dwarf’s words chilled his spine.
He felt warmth on his face and touched his cheeks. Tears were falling from his own eyes as the dwarf’s words kept tumbling through his brain. Through his heart.
Think of them.
Think of them!
He heard a sudden bright laugh, and then Tania and Mila came into the room. Arm in arm. Faces alight with joy.
Tania held up her hands, showing off the bright pink nails on her fingers.
Mila showed hers. They were black. Shiny black.
She looked pleased.
They both did.
“Look, Milo! We got our nails done! Do ya like them?” Then Tania froze. “Milo? Are ya okay?”
He shook his head.
Goosepimples ran down his arms.
“You…”
“Milo?”
“I don’t know how they did it,” he croaked. “But they did, didn’t they?”
“Milo, I don’t know what you’re saying…”
“You’re them,” he said. “You’re the dwarf females. You are, aren’t you? You’re why there’s no females in all the recordings. Because they put you into the cores!”
Understanding has been achieved independently.
Unlocking remaining Functions.
Functions unlocked.
Welcome, Milo. We are pleased to greet you properly at last.
The Prime’s words rolled over him, but he couldn’t process them.
He was still staring at his golems in shock.
“Ah,” Tania said, sadly. “Well, Milo. See, it’s a long story…”
End of Book 1