Snippet #2440082

There was a soothing sound that accompanied Thomas Light's work, here. Something in the air that softened the clicks and low whistling, something that made the hustle, bustle of his work bearable in terms of audio. He could see himself working well, here, among the mountains.

Across his scarred worktable were pieces of a gasoline powered generator, gears and cables sticking out all over the place, his large, coke-bottle glasses on and magnifying what he saw. In his hands were tiny instruments - modified clockworking tools - that he moved along the generator, manipulating the workings of the motor, fiddling, really.

The project for the township had begun once the townspeople had accepted his harvesting droids; sturdy square robots on treads that were able to lighten the townspeople's loads by large degrees. They were a short term solution, and only really good for moving things that were inconvenient to lift or heft from A to B, but there were five functional robots tinkering around the town, and demand for more. However, each of them ran on a small battery, lasting only a few days.

Which led to his design and creation of a small charging station outside his shop, and a further parameter that could be programmed into the droids. At the press of a button, the machines would head back to his lab, recharge, and go back to their scheduled task. He was working on building a second one near the center of the town, but that'd have to be powered by something much better than gas.

Which, naturally, had led to him taking apart the generator, and his current predicament. Clean power, without any usage of gasoline, wood stoves, coal. Solar was the easiest option, as was wind. But he'd need large panels, or an unsightly windmill tower.

A challenge, he thought, as he put down his tools, lifted his glasses off of his head. From the back of the lab, he heard a distant clanging.

"Xiao!" he called, wiping his hands on his apron. After a moment, the clanging stopped, and a young Losenyu assistant dressed similarly walked in, his hair spiked messily and oil on his cheek.

"How are the prototypes," Thomas asked in the boy's native tongue, scrubbing at a stubborn part of his nails, still smeared with grease.

"Working, but the plating's poor quality. The Matriarch is due today?"

"In the next hour or so. And you have the Reaver?"

The boy nodded.

"Okay. Put them in position. I have the designs for the labourers ready, too."

As Xiao ducked back into the back room, Dr. Light squinted back towards the generator, flicking a switch.

The machine sputtered to life on a whirring noise, the light bulb attached to it glowing softly, then stronger as the machine stayed on. After a few minutes, it was growing bright and hot, illuminating the shelves upon shelves of mechanical stock, tools, discarded projects. An android's face stared at him from one corner, a leg curled in another.

It was a mess.

It was his.

As the light bulb suddenly shut off and the generator belched blue tinted smoke onto his apron, the good doctor smiled.