The Wrench Assistant

Strange Beast

I take my line of police officers to the trap door and down to the lower level workshop, splurging for the occasion by turning on the electric lights. I can only hope my employer doesn't sneeze or have to scratch any body parts. The tiniest noise made in the oxidation chamber is amplified by the copper sphere and feeder orifice. 

"This is his workshop? How long since you have seen him?" the commander asks. He sweeps his gaze over the large room, and manages to frown even deeper than before. 

"Nearly four days," I say. Ping! goes the chimer.  

"What happened exactly?" 

"He just disappeared," I say, watching the chimer from the corner of my eye. Each ping is accompanied by gold, so far. 

"Did he say where he was going when he left?" 

"No." Ping! 

"Has he tried to contact you since then?" 

"He hasn't been able to reach me if he's tried," I say, cringing. Ping — gold! Technically, he can't reach me with his hand through the feeder orifice. The tube is too narrow.

"Do you know what this is?" The commander shows me a diagram on a heavy sheet of paper. 

"It looks like a vertical energy acceleraugmentor." Ping! 

"Have you seen it?" 

"We have one like this, but it's a sixer. That one is a twelver, it looks pretty expensive. Are those double-knotted fillidarts?" I ask, moving towards the back wall. My last comment — a question — elicits a red button. The machine can't judge the truth of a question. 

In the meantime, the other policemen have spread out, opening drawers, lifting machine parts, inspecting loose steam-powered pistons and wires, flipping through notes and diagrams, and poking their noses in grungy, forgotten corners. 

"What is this strange beast, Miss Nabel?" asks the handsome officer, patting the side of the huge machine that Humphrey is stuck in.  

"That thing? Hard to say," I answer.  

No pings; the chimer is waiting for the commander to ask the questions. He promptly does. "What is the machine?" 

"Well, Mr. Stricton told me it's an alloy purifier." Ping! 

Snorts of derision sound from several of the previously mentioned corners. Alloy purifiers, or ones that can actually separate the metals in common alloys without costing more than the precious metals they extract, are myths. 

"Is that true?" 

"That's what he told me. Here's the acceleraugmentor." I show the commander a half-wired, six bolt acceleraugmentor worth pocket change in the market for its spare parts.  

"Where do you think Mr. Stricton is now?" 

"I'm sure he's not far, he is certainly still in the area." Ping! Gold! Look at the gold! 

"Can you be more specific? An address or acquaintance?" 

"Could you please tell me what this is about?" I ask. Ping! Red. 

"Hmm. What is your position in Mr. Stricton's household?" 

"I'm Wrench Assistant under Master Wheelworker Stricton." Ping!  

This knocks them speechless. They all check the chimer for the gold button. They obviously thought I was a maid, and not a very tidy one at that. 

"But aren't you a girl?" the handsome one asks.  

I must have made an impression on him. "Women assistants cost less in salary."