The Garage held all the heavy-duty equipment needed to repair and build machina. In the corner, under a white sheet, lay my baby; the machina I had started building from scratch that I worked on every chance I got. Once it was finished, it should cook a meal perfectly – eliminating the need for my kitchen work.
I donned my customised set of overalls – rather than settle for the typical plain blue, I had specialised mine. There was a grid worked into the front pocket, with squares of neon fabrics and screws, nuts and bolts sewn in amongst them. The trouser legs had been re-hemmed and re-seamed as cropped, skinny-fit legs, and the long sleeves had been chopped off, leaving only two thick straps across my shoulders that crossed at the back, clipping into the main body about halfway down my back. I was useless at sewing though, so it had taken me weeks to finish. All this was finished off with my electric green utility belt, complete with its personal set of tools.
Before starting my work, I took a look at Mika’s problematic machina, as promised. I booted it up to see what the problem was, and it immediately attempted to spear me. I dodged its sharp sword and shut it down before taking off its back panel with my trusty screwdriver. A quick look told me nothing was awry there, so I would have to dismantle the whole machina and check out its rotary fan belt, as I suspected. But I didn’t have time for a full examination, and had to close it back up again and get on with my own work.
As I had excelled so much at mechanics, I was a prime candidate for the best jobs. Mixed with my youth and agility, that meant I was up for servicing the cannons on the outside of the Home. This had to be done under the cover of at least a dimming sky, and so I took care of that in my evening shift. The cannons were only a precaution; we were peaceful, but somehow always managed to attract danger. That’s why their upkeep was so important – we were on constant alert in case of intruders.
Outside, I climbed easily from niche to dip in the roof, occasionally swinging from a pole or two to get to the top. The roof of Home was almost totally flat, with a few holes to hide in (in case of attack) and the cannons. I set down my belt by the next cannon in the sequence, and checked all the basics; fan belt, rotor, engine, slide, clip, ammo. Every time I serviced each different cannon I made sure the first thing I checked was its ammunition. They said that it was because our cannons back home were out that we were destroyed completely…
I thought back as I worked, so used to mechanics that I could service any machina and still have thought space. I tried to remember my old home, but not much was coming back. I remembered my parents, and the day it got destroyed, but…the faces of the other Al Bhed were unclear, and I couldn’t remember the layout of the building.
As I worked the sun set, streaking the sky with a violent blood stain. It was terrifying, foreboding, and yet at the same time it was comforting. I was lost in its beauty, but the trill of the bell sucked me from my thoughts and I remembered where I was. Throwing my belt and overalls into the Garage, I wound through the corridors for Hikaro’s room, trying – and failing – to avoid the evening rush. Now, the late shifters would start their work, while the rest of us were free for the evening. I had said that I would help a few people out, but based on Hikaro’s blue mood earlier, I thought he mattered more. I could sort out the machina tomorrow.
