The Mechanical Crafter, page 2
part #1 of The Mechanical Crafter Series
So, in my fourth year, I switched to Liberal Studies with the intent to teach, something I'd already been doing on the side to help pay for college. The credits from the other classes transferred, and the program was so easy to get into and finish that it only took me a few extra semesters to get a degree.
After college, I went to work. After all, that student debt wasn’t going to pay itself off. I started work as a substitute teacher, and at first, it was fulfilling to help kids and teens learn about stuff. I was in a different classroom every day though and never had the chance to really plan lessons or get to know any group for too long. After a while, the job became more about babysitting than teaching. Half the job was about dealing with behavioral problems from students and not actually teaching. It also didn’t help that being a sub didn’t pay the bills. So, I picked up a night job as a janitor to make a little extra money, and oddly, the job was much more relaxing than I’d thought it would be. The work wasn’t complicated, and I could plug in my headphones and zone out to a podcast or audiobook while I worked.
The world turned, and before I knew it, I'd gone from being twenty-five to forty-five. Life had just sort of passed me by while I was trying to make a living. I'd never had a family of my own, and my parents had passed when I was still in college. No siblings. The few friends I'd made in college faded after we graduated and went our separate ways. There had been a couple of women I loved, but something always stopped me from taking that next step, and they eventually left me. The only regular conversations I even had these days were with my neighbor, the eighty-year-old cat lady.
So, there I was, alone, staring at the TV with the too familiar RPG character creation screen, with the severe pain in my chest telling me that I was having a heart attack, just like my dad had. As my vision went black and my breathing stopped, I regretted not making more of myself--not being a maker like I'd dreamt of instead of letting my frail human failings pull me down. I just wished that I had another chance. A chance to remake myself just like I could in those games.
Wish Granted.
Chapter 2 – Character Creation
The black void consumed me. And then it spit me out. The next time I opened my eyes, I couldn't close them again. I tried, but I no longer had eyes--or, well, a body for that matter. Instead, I seemed to be an invisible entity surrounded by emptiness. It was the most bizarre and mind-bending experience to seem to exist but not exist. I started to freak out, thinking that I'd been sent to purgatory or something. After all, I’d led a life of mediocrity and had neither done anything particularly good or bad. I feared that I’d have to wait here for eons in a state of non-existence until someone or something pulled me away. Then a line of text appeared in front of me.
Welcome, traveler. Your soul has been chosen to participate in the Reclamation and Reincarnation program. Your last wish before you died was for a chance to re-make yourself and resolve your regrets. Here is that chance.
Please choose your new form.
The text disappeared, and a row of beings appeared in front of me that stretched off in either direction as far as I could see. Each figure was different. Most were humanoid with two arms and legs, but others had hooves, tentacles, wings, proboscises, and all other manner of appendages.
“This is like cosmic Christmas,” I thought. “Not only do I get another chance at life, but I get to choose what I’ll start out as?”
My emotions shifted from disbelief to elation at my luck. After I calmed myself, I took a long look at my options. I didn't want to be anything too weird or foreign, and even though I was open to not being human, I wanted a human-ish shape. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, the lineup of beings shrank down until only those that conformed to my desire remained. Still, there were so many choices left, and I began to recognize some of them from fantasy games. I wondered if there were any orcs, and the selection in front of me shifted yet again. The male and female orc-like beings were all tall and muscular with varying skin tones but distinct features. They had upturned noses, small tusks jutted out from their slightly extended lower jaw, pointed ears, and generally rough appearances. Some had a familiar yellow or green skin tone; others were blue or even purple. I wondered if there were any other differences, and a new text box appeared for the one I was looking at.
Urikei-a
Created on a low-magic world by ancient beings most would call wizards, the Urikei-a is a magical combination of orcs and goblins meant to have the strengths of both. Capable of running long distances in daylight, they are a fearsome enemy. Though they are incapable of reproduction and are regarded poorly by the other races of its home world.
Bonuses: +6 Con, +2 Str, -4 Cha, -50 starting reputation with all light races
The description of the beings might have been ripped from a Tolkien novel, and I wondered if this was a weird dream that had been pulled from my dying mind or if the universe was full of such uninspired descriptions.
The process was created based on the knowledge acquired in your previous life and conforms to a creation process with which you were familiar. The infinite multiverse contains every variation of life, even those you would consider based on your universe’s literature.
I was surprised to get an answer, but thought, “Does that mean that, in some other universe, my life and experiences were fodder for some cheap web novel or something?”
No response came and the question bothered me for only a second before I returned my focus to the task at hand. From what I could tell, it seemed like there really was just about every type of fantasy creature and being, and not just from literature. There were also versions from video games like Warcraft, Warhammer 40K, Skyrim, and anime like Overlord. Each had a slightly different description from the original material, and, more importantly, different stat bonuses, but they were fundamentally the same and recognizable.
My mind dismissed the orc line up. After all, they're the bad guys in just about every story or they are so barbaric that they didn't feel right for me. My mind flitted through all the fantasy and sci-fi races that I'd come across. Even limited to just humanoid shapes, the number of choices was staggering. After reading the various descriptions, I learned that choosing one would put me in some alternate variation of those worlds. I had liked the idea of being an undead warrior when playing Warcraft, but the reality seemed unpleasant and likely rather smelly.
I was happy to have this chance instead of simply not existing. But at the same time, I knew that I had to be smart and make the most of all the information I was being given. Instead of focusing on races I already knew, I decided to think about what I was trying to accomplish.
“What are the regrets I was trying to fix? What are the failings that I wish I could change?”
As I thought and pondered on my life, the selection of races in front of me shifted and changed until finally there were only a few.
Dwarves (Augustus subrace) - An ancient race of drunken bearded warriors and craftsmen. They gain power from their devotion to the god of crafting and beer. Dwarves have been known to create some of the mightiest weapons in the nine realms.
Bonuses: +4 Con, +2 Str, +70% more fun while drunk, -10% crafting quality when sober.
Metalmen - One of the few artificially created races. They are young and have only existed for a few hundred years. These self-aware constructs are capable of improving themselves through crafting.
Bonuses: +2 Int, -2 Cha, +25% Learning speed, Does not breathe, Does not eat, Does not sleep, Adaptable bodies. Not able to be healed with divine magic or potions.
Bugmen - One of the oldest races on the planet Bugopolius, they have a hive mind that allows them instant access to all the knowledge and experience of crafters from both the past and the present.
Bonuses: +2 Con, -2 Wis, Starting access to all plans, schematics, and crafting recipes. Natural weapons. +4 Attack when fighting with other Bugmen
“Even with their crafting potential, I don’t want to be an alcoholic dwarf or an insect with a hive mind,” I thought. “The Metalmen, while not the best crafters and with some severe deficits, have some exciting bonuses--bonuses that resonate with my desire to be a different person this time around. No more distractions from overeating, sleeping in, or binge-watching TV. Plus, the world that they lived in hinted at being the type of place that I could make a difference.”
Without further thought, I chose Metalmen.
The other figures faded away, which left me with four beings made of wood, stone, and metal. They varied a bit in their composition, but focusing on each caused new text to appear.
Warrior - One of four default frames for the Metalmen race. This frame focuses on battle and can be upgraded to specialize in several ways, including: increased armor, built-in weapon systems, increased size, specialized armor, and weapons.
Bonuses: +2 Str, +2 Con, +25% Combat Skills, -40% Crafting Skills
Mage - One of four default frames for the Metalmen race. This frame focuses on the arcane and can be upgraded to specialize in several ways. Increased mana systems, built-in arcane focuses, spell receptacles, spell infused cores, specialized armor, and weapons.
Bonuses: +2 Int, +2 Wis, +25% Magic Skills, -25% Combat Skill, -25% Stealth Skills
Artificer - One of four default frames for the Metalmen race. This frame focuses on crafting and can be upgraded to specialize in several ways. Including: built-in tools and schematics plus spell-infused parts, cores with temporary and permanent spell-like features, specialized armor, and weapons.
Bonuses: +2 Int, +2 Cha, +25% Crafting Skills, -40% Combat Skill
Scout - One of four default frames for the Metalmen race. This frame focuses on stealth and can be upgraded to specialize in several ways, including: increased stealth systems, built-in lockpicking tools and traps, specialized armor, and weapons.
Bonuses: +2 Int, +2 Dex, +25% Stealth Skills, -40% Magic Skill
The descriptions for each Metalman class clearly showed that they specialized early and increased in that specialization as time went on. While I was intrigued by the possibility of becoming a hulking fighter or a spell-slinger, the only one that called out to me was the Artificer. Its abilities were in line with the primary reason that I picked the Metalmen race in the first place, specifically their innate crafting skills and their ability to improve themselves via it.
Having chosen to become a Metalman Artificer, new text appeared.
Congratulations on choosing your new self. Uploading soul now…
And the world faded to black once again.
Chapter 3 - Awakening
The darkness seemed to extend forever as my consciousness floated for what could have been an eternity. Finally, the darkness faded, and I was hit with a myriad new sensation: the grind of gears, the explosive push as pistons fired, the twist of screws, the stretch of springs, and the hardness of the inflexible plating covering me. The sensations were alien, but I still felt utter joy at existing and being able to feel once more.
I tried to take a deep breath only to realize I couldn’t. I mentally panicked as my mind assumed that I was suffocating, but then I realized that I didn’t have any sensations of pain associated with suffocation and that I was actually okay. It took a moment to adjust, and then I remembered a characteristic of the Metalman species: they didn’t breathe.
As the dark faded, a light in the distance grew slowly brighter and brighter until it filled my vision. There was a cacophony of voices, and while none were quite in focus yet, I recognized the blurry shapes of people moving all around me along with tables, chairs, walls, and a window in the background. I wished that I could see better, and like magic, words appeared in front of me. Readjusting visual centers
There was a small whirring noise inside my head, and the room came into focus. The people talking were wearing white lab coats and excitedly gesturing toward me. I was confused as I realized just how short the people were. They only came up to my waist and had heads that were just a bit too large for their bodies with larger-than-healthy ears and bulbous noses. The word “gnomes” floated to mind, and I realized that was exactly what they were. Their speech seemed like some foreign language at first, but their words slowly started to make sense, and I realized that I somehow recognized it.
A gnome with bright red hair and a handlebar mustache gestured toward me. "See, I told you that it would work! Instead of creating a new artificial soul, the ancients must have bound an old one to their machines to make the Metalmen."
"Yes, yes. Your technique has worked. But just because it lives doesn't mean it is the same techniques the ancients used," another gnome, one with black slicked-back hair countered.
A third gnome, just out of sight, said, "We haven't even tested the Metalman to see if it's sentient. It may be as unintelligent as all the normal constructs."
The only female among them sighed tiredly and then spoke up loudly to interrupt their conversation. "Look, I've done my part summoning the soul. Can I go now?" The others barely registered the question before waving the short woman away. She quickly moved toward the door, a brief flash of curiosity appearing across her face as she glanced back at me, before she turned away and left.
I tried to speak but found that I couldn't. I could only turn my head left and right and move my fingers and toes, but that didn’t mean that I was without my wiles. I tapped on the metal table with my finger. Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Tap, tap. The steady sound caught the gnome’s attention, their arguing stopped, and they looked at me.
The redhead asked, "Can you understand us?"
Tap.
"I think he just said 'yes,'" the redhead said to the other gnomes.
"No, Tognomey. It's likely just some random movement. I still think our research should shift back to artificial souls," the gnome with the slicked-back hair said.
Tap. Tap.
"Ha, he just told you no, Gnomerad."
The other gnomes smiled at each other and started to fire off questions while the black-haired one sulked silently. It took a while, but through a series of yes-or-no questions, I was able to clarify that I could understand them but that something was wrong with my voice. The redhead, Tognomey, grabbed a tool from the workbench behind me and adjusted something in my neck by using a ladder to reach me. There was a crackling sound and an ear-splitting whine then another adjustment to something in my neck and a quiet low hum.
"Ok. Now try to speak, friend," Tognomey said.
"Hello, world," I said, with a deep synthetic voice. A small chuckle escaped my--well, not lips--but voice box. I thought the phrase would be appropriate since it was the first thing most programmers learned to code.
What followed was a cacophony of questions and statements from everyone in the room. Too many to follow. I tried to raise my hands to indicate for them to stop talking all at once, but I found that I was chained to the table I laid out on.
"Please, gentlemen...err...gentle gnomes, I'd be happy to talk to you at length if you'd remove these restraints holding me down."
The gnomes all looked towards the oldest among them, and the red-headed Tognomey asked the elder, "Well, Professor Gnominsky, you're the senior fellow here. What do you say? It would only be a minor violation of protocol."
The white-haired gnome with thick glasses looked at each of the others before he answered, "Well, we have already gone beyond our initial expectations for the experiment. We hypothesized that binding a soul to a Metalman frame would restore life, but we did not expect a conscious soul with the capacity to speak. Rather, we thought we'd get a Tabula Rasa, a blank slate."
"It has not yet been proven that it is sentient, Professor,” a voice interrupted. “I still believe it is only a clever facsimile. I've seen clever birds speak and even sound like they are having conversations with their owners. But we would not call them aware.”
I turned to see Gnomerad sneering at me and recognized the condescending ‘know it all’ look from my college days. It was the look of an academic who argued not out of genuine belief but because he wished to push his own theories.
I tried to smile reassuringly but realized that I had neither the lips nor any capacity to make a facial expression. The inability to communicate with non-verbal cues would make convincing these guys I was a person more challenging. "I can assure you all that I am indeed quite sentient. I'd be happy to take the Turing Test or your local equivalent. 'I think therefore I am' and all that. Regardless of that, my request to be unbound seems like a simple courtesy."
"Turing? Is that the gnome in accounting?" a gnome in the back asked a fellow next to me.
Gnomerad ignored the comment. "No, it is not courtesy. I would not unleash a potentially dangerous machine. Protocols are there for a reason. If this machine would harm one of us..."
