Chapter 4Forge
The servitor did not wait for but a moment before continuing on after her narrow escape from death by suffocation from the carbon dioxide fumes of the hissing carbonic acid pools. The servitor was emaciated and starving in her flesh parts, she needed food as quickly as possible or she would not survive many more days, especially not with the added burden of producing milk for Subject Wah.
The servitor was almost mindless as she carried Subject Wah in her arms through the reeking fume choked air of the tunnel with the "fresh" air current, the tunnel completely and oppressively dark but for the reflected dim red power status lights of the servitor's own worn battered steel bionics, the red light swallowed up by the thick clouds of reeking dust that blew in the fume infused air current.
Onwards marched the ugly metal legs of the cyborg, unweary and unbothered by pain or dust or discomfort. Into the oncoming dust and fumes she strode, blinking away the black wet dust from her stinging eyes.
The maze of exhausted mine tunnels was so immense that it boggled the mind. Over ages past every last speck of mineral ore had been searched out and dug out to provide the steel and raw materials of industry, the tunnels dug down ever deeper as deposits near the surface were exhausted. To this day down in the deepest tunnels the minerals of this planet were still dug out to supply the factories with raw materials, the faint rumble of mining explosive blasts could just be heard far far below.
The servitor needed food and these faint explosions attracted her to head towards them, explosions meant humans and humans required food, it was logical that food would be found in this direction.
She walked for miles into the oncoming air current, the current becoming stronger. The air current stank of explosive residue and the toxic gases of heavy mining procedures. The air was hot and smoky, it was incredibly toxic but still below lethal toxicity levels.
The servitor moved downwards in her wanderings through the dust carpeted tunnel floors, she took every ramp down following the source of the air current, walking for miles and miles in an endless march down a switchbacking series of mining tunnel ramps going steadily down into the unfathomable depths of the rock below her home factory.
The explosion sounds were getting louder now, compressing the air periodically with the great blasts of mining explosives. The hot air was thick with explosive fumes and it rose steadily up the ramps past her in search of the cooler air above with mindless air convection.
The servitor's partially lobotomised brain felt no sense of danger as she marched ever closer toward the ever louder explosions, the air was compressing with almost concussive force.
Subject Wah began to bawl and scream?
(Subject Wah) (query why) (action Wah sound)? The servitor asked Subject Wah in a buzzing burst of binary.
Wah Wah Wah!
The air compressed with another huge explosion of air and fumes and smoke that nearly blew the servitor off her metal feet.
The servitor looked around herself with lobotomised stupidity, noticing indifferently that the rock here was raw and the Ferrocrete reinforcing walls and ceiling looked new and freshly laid. This was a new mine tunnel, the dust was much less thick but the smog and smoke fumes were far worse.
The servitor paused in indecision in the crashing noise of the nearby explosions.
(Subject this servitor) (location near) (subject explosions) (hypothesis) (subject food) (location nearby). The servitor said to herself in a burst of binary that was drowned out by the explosions.
The servitor stopped walking towards the nearby explosions and randomly explored the tunnel branches near her, going down tunnels at random finding more gleaming new Ferrocrete reinforcing walls and ceilings and fresh steel rock bolts in all the tunnels she found.
She saw bright white light up ahead around a corner in the tunnel, she walked towards the light and fearlessly turned the corner to see brilliantly bright work lights and a large chamber filled with supply crates, shambling servitors and a pair of figures in the robes of Adeptus Mechanicus Menials.
The servitor mindlessly walked into this chamber and completely ignored the other figures inside, instead inspecting the supply crates desperately in search of any nutrient rations. The two Menials looked over at the servitor curiously with their goggled eyes, the other servitors completely ignored her.
The servitor checked the binary code inscriptions printed on each crate, finding (subject tri nitro toluene blasting sticks), (subject powdered Ferrocrete sacks), (subject steel rock fastening bolts) but still no food.
Wah Wah Wah!
Subject Wah was making her namesake noise now.
The formerly merely curious Adeptus Mechanicus Menials were now walking over with concern, attracted by the Wah noise. The pair of figures confronted the servitor in a walkway between two lines of crates. They looked at Subject Wah in her arms in brief terrible silence.
"Is that a baby?", "Cog damn it it's a Cog damn baby!"
The two Menials were talking to each other not in binary but in the language of weak flesh.
Adeptus Mechanicus Menials were the most low ranking members of the non-servitor population of this forge world. They were flesh humans who were employed as civilian workers in roles that required more intelligence than a mindless servitor but without the exalted position of a tech priest. They were paid (not necessarily well) for their vocations and were technically speaking "free" indentured labourers.
"That servitor has a Cog damn baby!"
(Subject Menial) (subset female) (numbers two) (action move from) (state in way of) (subject this servitor). The servitor requested in binary, squeezing past the pair and continuing to inspect the crates for food.
"What are you holding servitor?"
(Subject this servitor) (action holding) (subject Wah)
"She named the baby 'Wah'?! That's so pitiful!"
"Are you sure it's hers? Maybe she just found it somewhere?"
"Servitor where did you find 'Wah'"?
(Subject this servitor) (action acquired) (Subject Wah) (location urinary system) (subject this servitor)
"She gave birth to that baby! I want to cry!"
"We have to get it off her!"
The servitor stiffened with protective (emotion rage) at these words, they were going to (action steal) Subject Wah!
The servitor swung a bionic arm with mechanical force at the nearest Menial, causing the woman to fly backwards into a crate. The second Menial woman (action ran away).
The servitor looked around for additional threats to Subject Wah but found none. The two Menial women were retreating and the other servitors were completely ignoring the entire scene as they focused on their own mono tasks.
The servitor resumed inspecting the crates for food and finally found a metal crate with a binary inscription of interest:
(Subject box) (contents powdered nutrient paste) (state dehydrated powder). (Composition 94 percent imported agri world cornmeal, 5 percent imported agri world soymeal, 1 percent locally produced synthetic essential nutrients - synthetic vitamins subset all synthetic mineral dust subset all essential minerals synthetic omega fats subset all essential, trace amounts additional chemicals see appendix B). (Note may also contain traces of rodents).
The servitor ripped open the crate with her bionic hand with a sound of tortured sheet metal, bending the crate lid terribly to expose a pallid yellow dry powder. The servitor buried a filthy bionic hand into the powder and scooped out a handful, putting it to her mouth with desperate hunger.
The servitor tasted the revolting taste of low quality agri world corn and soy and bitter synthetic nutrients, the taste of the nutrient paste that she had always eaten as a nut boxer up in the factory during every meal of her entire life. The servitor greedily ate more and more, coughing heavily as she breathed some of the powder into her lungs but too hungry to stop eating.
The two menial women were watching the servitor feast from a safe distance but they didn't call for help, taking pity on the heart wrenching sight of this servitor mother and baby eating their food.
The servitor attempted to feed nutrient powder to Subject Wah, making Subject Wah cough and cry. The servitor continued eating the powder herself as subject Wah mouthed on the small amount of damp powder still in her mouth.
The servitor ate nutrient powder until she wasn't hungry anymore.
(Subject this servitor) (action taking) (subject this crate).
"Take it mummy servitor, you ruined all the cornmeal with your filthy hands anyway."
The servitor dragged the crate behind her with one hand and walked away with her bionic legs, not wanting to stay around these menials that wanted to steal Subject Wah.
The pair of menial women watched the dangerous feral servitor drag the crate of food away with looks of compassionate pity. That servitor had a Cog damn baby!
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