--Bertha Oneshots--

Safe and Sound

-SHORT-

Nightfall. A new-fangled factory, close to Spottiswood and Co, was free of its workers. All that sounded was the plopping water from above, followed by a vroom of its machines. It kept echoing back and forth in silence. The doors locked its entrances and exits too, sealing out the cold air from outside. All was calm. All was right.

Click. Click. Something rattled.

It clicked louder.

It rattled louder.

It kept tapping against the door, scraping the paint off to reveal the wooden base underneath. It kept on rattling. It kept on tapping. At last it stopped. Then it screeched. A strange figure cunningly snook in, dressed all in black and bandaged a mask to its face. It carried a small torch to which it shined a brilliantly large light toward the darkest areas. The light went everywhere from the boxes to the walls and back again in a loop. The figure was wary of its step as it lurked across the room, nimbly avoiding being spotted by the factory's newly installed cameras. It dodged all of the obstacles and found its way to where it wanted to go. The manager's office.

The office was as quiet as the rest of the factory, only difference is that is lacking protection. After a few minutes of searching, the figure found something. "Bingo." it whispered in excitement, taking out a small crowbar. It hit the base of the object repeatedly, pushing an opening for the figure to reach its hand in. The object tried to hold its thin walls together as the crowbar dented each of its sides. Bit by bit, it slammed the square object again, and the insides started to appear more visible. At last, the cube broke apart upon its last legs, crashing its bruised sides onto the floor along with a pile of valuable paper. Without hesitation, the figure grabbed as many of the object's insides as possible until there's nothing left. It then zoomed out quick with a bag full of it on its shoulder. The factory became quiet again. All that remained was a mess.

A troubled morning came and news spread quickly about the factory's burglary. The police were informed but it didn't stop the public from worrying about the incident. Neighbouring factories were quick to put up new cameras and locks, fearing that they could be the next target. Spottiswood was amongst the panicking pack, being the most serene and empathetic whilst giving advice to other factories about protecting their savings. Not long ago, two thieves tried to rob the factory of its wages and Mr Willmake was keen to make sure it doesn't happen again.

As soon as he heard the news, he ordered the staff to check that the surveillance is up to code. This included doors, windows, and of course the technology. The cameras were working fine. The safe...not so much. It has became untimely delicate over time, having lost all its strength from years of guarding. The dial was stiff so it was difficult to lock the money safely - you'd be surprised by how many burglaries the factory had over the years. "We need a new safe." Mr Willmake announced as he tried to open the safe one morning. "But we don't have enough money in the budget to buy a good safe, sir." his secretary reminded him. The manager stood up from his position, thinking to himself before turning to the secretary again. "Hmm...you're right, Miss McClackerty. We certainly can't leave the wages lying around the office unprotected. Who knows where and when the burglar will strike again! What can we do?"

Miss McClackerty had an idea. "Mr Sprott could design a safe, and Bertha could make it." she suggested. " Mr Willmake became fond of the idea indeed. Almost at an instant, he asked the secretary to phone the design office to come up with ideas for a 'different' kind of safe. The deadline was tonight so the order was quickly in construction.

A few hours have past since the morning shift started and all the workers have stopped to have a nice cup of tea before getting back to work again. Mrs Tupp was surprised that Mr Sprott didn't take his usual cup of tea. His eyes remained glued to his desk as he politely declined the tea from her. Walking back downstairs again, the tea lady frowned a bit to see a warm drink being wasted. He's probably too busy for a cup of tea, Tracey thought, having witnessed the small scene. About the same time, the designer hopped up from his chair and slammed the pencil on the desk, beaming. "I've done it Tracey! I've successfully designed a safe that will stop any burglar!" Mr Sprott called out to her, holding his drawing up to her viewpoint. "I call it 'The Sprott lock'."

Tracey fixed her gaze upon that sheet of paper. Every ounce of his confidence and dedication had been poured all over it. It over flooded with useful ideas and suggestions, some seeming ridiculous, others looking tempting and some being brilliant. Its supposed to be a small safe, yes, but it could by chance start a new generation of security. The assistant designer praised the idea, thinking that he had managed to make up a concept that would work. A concept that is claimed to go smoothly.

Tracey took the plans and headed downstairs to where the big machine was. Bertha was too busy to notice her coming but when she finally spotted her, she let out a few noises to say 'good morning'. The designer's assistant handed the paper over to Ted, who was more then happy to start its construction. A lot of strong metal was needed for this one safe. Two layers of steel will do to make it nonflammable. "Come on Bertha," Ted called out to her, pulling the lever forward. Bertha went straight to work, gears winding more eagerly and quicker then usual. She bent the metal to place and fixed the lock system on carefully (it's the most important part in a safe, it would just be a cube if it wasn't added on). The plans were soon dropped in a bin as if they are no longer needed during production. Bad idea. When she was finished, Bertha moved it out on the conveyer belt for view.

In a positive mood, Mr Sprott came out of his office to see how the new safe project was coming along. To his surprise, he had found a metal box on the belt, looking like it was seemingly nailed down onto it. Did it turn out well? Is it made just right? The designer closely examined the details, nodding in relief. "The design is correct, but we still need to test it." he asserted. He placed his hand in his jacket and pulled out his wallet. Tracey knew what he was about to do. "..I don't think that's a good idea, Mr Sprott." she warned. The designer was too stunned by his own ego to take his assistant's advice as he set the wallet inside the safe. "Don't worry Tracey." he assured her, locking the safe's little door. "This safe is designed to keep valuables protected from burglars. It'll be fine as long as you have the code, then you can retrieve it again no problem."

No one spoke after that line. All that was spoke was the concentration in Mr Sprott, carefully examining the safe's durability by punching the casing hard. It didn't dent. That's good. Wait. The designer slowly started to sweat as each punch got more intense after the other. That's not good. The workers only just watched him, tapping their fingers on an object and looked at each other confused. Is this the test of strength? Mr Sprott finally gave up, feeling more uptight then earlier. With a few glances towards his coworkers he gulped the realisation of what he's done into a question. "Uh... anyone else want to try and open the safe?"

"Isn't this safe supposed to be open with a code?" Nell asked, feeling that hitting it is not necessary. "Yes, it is supposed to be open with a code." Flo recalled. "I don't know the code." Ted only just sighed, narrowing his eyes at him. "Please don't tell me you've forgotten to add in a code for the safe, Mr Sprott."

"No, no..I didn't forget to add a code."

"So, what is the code?

"..I've...forgotten it."

"Forgotten it?!"

"Yes... I probably should've mesmerised it whilst designing it. Sorry!" Ted facepalmed but had managed to calm himself down before letting his anger take over him. "Well that's just great," he spoke a bit sarcastically, "How are we going to open the safe with no code?" One of the workers suggested cutting the safe open. Very effective, though the safe would become useless if they've taken down the door. Another one had an idea to rummage through the bins for the discarded plans. The missing code might be on it! Too late. The rubbish has already been collected. "My wallet!" Mr Sprott groaned, full of worry that he'll never see or use it again.

Rather unexpectedly, Bertha decided to speak up. She gave a clammed up smile to the other workers, before bleeping out a reassuring sentence in morse code. It at first seemed like she was trying to be the sun after a storm as she lowered her arm. But instead of patting the distressed designer, she laid her 'fingers' on the safe's little dial. "What are you doing Bertha?" Mr Sprott queried. The machine was far too focused to pay attention to her surroundings. Her eyes were just fixed to the safe, twisting the dial several times by her grip.

Click.

Bertha moved her fingers to the small handle and pulled it. The door slid open easily as if it gave up trying to beat a machine's artificial intelligence. The designer started to grin as he retrieved his wallet from the inside. "Thank you Bertha! Now that we have the code, we can now store the wages safely." Mr Sprott laughed. Clever Bertha agreed.