CHAPTER TWO
KLUNGO

Clanker was reeling from pain. In the past week alone, he'd eaten enough garbage to last him a lifetime and his rickety body must have felt the same way because it was already falling apart. Two of his bottom teeth had shattered instantly on that first day and the resulting ache in his mouth was driving him mad because it wouldn't go away and it wouldn't let him sleep. Even though he knew the exact date and time – there was a clock built into him somewhere – each day was a total blur: he'd grind garbage, try and fail to get some shuteye, then grind garbage again. Over and over and over.

In those breaks between garbage, eyes closed in vain, thinking was the only thing Clanker could do to pass the time, so that was exactly what he did. It didn't take long for him to realize that he didn't know anything about anything, least of all himself.

Sure, he could speak and swim, do basic math, and even light up his eyes in the dark…but he had no memory of learning these things, just as he had no memory of being brought to the Cavern. The idea of belonging to a "Mistress Grunty" mystified him and he certainly knew nothing about his own creator. He felt strange, incomplete. Like an important piece of his mind was missing.

His ignorance wasn't for lack of trying, though. He'd discovered early on that he wasn't alone in the Cavern – a colony of mutant crabs calling themselves "Snippets" lived in a nearby room, victims of the Cavern's toxic waste. Whenever they appeared, he made a point of politely asking them all kinds of questions, but they never answered him in words. They only hissed. If he had to guess, they were probably angry that he'd taken over their home…not that he could blame them, being the size that he was.

The door above him suddenly creaked open and the shark looked up, snapping to attention. He watched Klungo limp in, bent under the weight of a large bag on his shoulders.

"How isss Clanker today?" the scientist asked when he wasn't greeted right away.

"Not good…" the shark mumbled, wincing as he spoke. "Sick."

Klungo nodded, having clearly expected this. He tossed his bag over the railing and slid down after it using a ladder attached to the walkway. With his misshapen limbs, it was awkward for him to clamber down the rungs normally.

"Klungo here for repairsss," the man said as he dug through his bag. "Might help Clanker." Wasting no time at all, he pulled out some tools and got straight to work.

He first removed the shark's broken teeth (much to Clanker's delight), and made note of what materials he would need to replace them. He'd brought many things with him today, but extra teeth weren't among them – he hadn't planned on there being such extensive damage this early on. Of the tools he did have, most of them were for general upkeep, like tightening bolts wherever they were loose.

He was currently in the middle of that task, sitting on one of the shark's fins as he adjusted it. Lying right next to him was the same kind of tool in a few different sizes.

Wrenches, Clanker thought, before realizing that he'd never seen a wrench before. How did he know that? A sense of uneasiness crept into his tired mind.

"Klungo…what am I?"

"Klungo say it many times now," the man grunted. "Clanker is garbage grinder. Mussst listen to Klungo, mussst accept that."

"But – was Clanker always like this?" the shark pressed.

Klungo shot him a sidelong glance. "Shark is asking personal questionsss about Klungo, though he not know it. Shark mussst firssst know Klungo to know anything else..." Leaning back, he sighed. "Very well. Clanker is Klungo's life work, spent many yearsss on you. Too much time, mistresss said. She not approve of anything unlesss it useful to her. Now Clanker ssstuck here, eating trash. Not part of original plan…"

"Really?" It was the best news the shark had ever heard. "If Clanker not meant to be garbage grinder, then Clanker can stop?"

"Not for Klungo to decide. Mistresss is busy now, planning new ssseaside factory in Treasure Trove Cove. She is alwaysss scheming." He grabbed a new wrench and pointed it at the shark. "New factory meansss more waste. More work for Clanker."

Clanker's heart skipped a beat. How could there be even more garbage, on top of what he'd already eaten? "What if…Cl-Clanker useful in other ways?" he stammered.

"Perhapsss. Klungo hope so."

The Cavern plunged back into silence as the shark mulled that over. He didn't want to be stuck here grinding trash for the rest of his life; that much he knew. He waited for Klungo to say something more, to give him advice, reassurance, anything – but the scientist wasn't a very talkative man. He was humoring the shark's curiosity and that was it. So, Clanker kept him talking.

"Why did Klungo make Clanker? …Originally?"

An odd look passed over Klungo's face, but it came and went too quickly for the shark to read. The man took a deep breath.

"Klungo had family once, worked as scientist for academy. Successssful, too…" He smoothed out his lab coat with a lopsided grin. It must have been a relic from happier times. "But Klungo was carelesss, experimented too much on himself. Now Clanker and mistresss Grunty are the only family Klungo hasss left."

…Family.

Clanker was stunned by that sentiment.

Klungo didn't seem much like family. He'd only spoken to the shark once, days ago, and that first meeting had been awfully…cold. Even now Klungo was holding his own life's work at arm's length, but Clanker thought he understood. Perhaps the scientist was afraid to care too much for his creation, lest it be taken away or worse. From how he spoke of her, the man was scared stiff by his mistress, but the shark didn't know if he should feel the same way. Never mind that he wasn't a fighter, his design was that of a fearsome machine. Could she really destroy him so easily?

"So, Grunty is family…" Clanker said. "What is she like?"

The scientist froze. He sat up very straight, giving himself enough time to choose his words carefully.

"Mistresss is dangerous," he said finally. "A powerful witch who givesss many beatingsss. She isss used to having her way. Clanker would be lucky never to meet her."

The shark winced. Klungo was speaking from personal experience, he realized, and that deeply disturbed him. He glanced over his creator to see if he could spot any bruises, a difficult task in the Cavern's poor light. He wasn't about to turn on his own lights either, lest it be completely obvious what he was doing.

Just what kind of family did he belong to?

Acutely aware of the shark's scrutiny, Klungo said nothing. He simply finished his work, gathered his things, and put them away. Repairs were done for today.

"How doesss Clanker feel now?" he asked after a long silence, changing the subject.

The shark tested out his re-tightened joints and was pleased to find they felt almost like new – as new as they could feel, anyway, considering that he was built out of scrap parts. The pain in his mouth was also beginning to subside, for which he was incredibly grateful.

"Much better," he yawned, his week of exhaustion hitting him all at once. "Klungo…helped loads…"

The scientist nodded. "Klungo will return sssoon to fix broken teeth. Don't break anything else until then." He allowed himself a faint smile and then, hoisting his bag back over his shoulders, began to climb up the ladder.

Clanker didn't see him make it to the top. He'd already passed out.