Tunnel Rat

"A good engineer always tries to improve on previous designs. And broken machinery needs to be fixed. So, it wasn't much of a step to applying the same doctrine to our own bodies. Accidents happen, and a missing hand or leg shouldn't be the end of a promising career. Mechanical replacements for missing limbs have been common among the brotherhood going back a couple of thousand years. A few didn't wait for an accident; they just had an arm replaced by a mechanical one with multiple tools and increased STR. It was a practical thing." The Chief paused.

"Yes, totally practical. Like polishing your gilded body armor every day or competing for the best beard." Throttlecog added with a wink.

The Chief glared at him but acknowledged the comment. "Hush you. But yes, some of us do care a bit about our appearance. That was much more important back when this outpost was crewed by a thousand engineers. Not so much now, I suppose."

"It seemed to be a natural progression at the time to go from replacing limbs to fixing a fried nerve ending with a bit of thin-wire or aural compensators used to replace shattered ears. Dwarves are naturally long-lived, but eventually, we do wear out. We started using some 'preservative potions' to help keep us going another century or two. I think that is where the engineering started taking a back seat to the necromancy." As he said this, he watched Milo carefully for any bit of censure or disgust. The new member of the guild just sat there unperturbed. "That doesn't seem to bother you, brother Milo?"

Milo considered his words. "Too complicated a subject. Too much overlap with other things. The preservatives your people used might be called medicine by some. And while it came from necromancy, an alchemist might also be able to brew it. From what I've read, necromancy seems to incorporate medicine, alchemy, anatomy, and all kinds of things that don't involve making zombies and other undead."

"Aye. That's a decent way to look at it." The Chief looked thoughtful, then continued. "After the cataclysm that sealed the roads to the surface, we were pretty much on our own. Based on the magnitude of the cataclysm, many of us doubted there was anything left Uptop. We continued our work. But a schism was growing in the brotherhood. Those that had the knowledge and special skills to construct their own preservation suit did so. But a lot of the brotherhood were mechanics, pipefitters, and machinists. An engineer who knew the correct runes and had the right magitech skills could construct a suit that would keep him alive for centuries longer. The rest were just getting old and worn out."

"Engineer Malvos thought he had a way to help the lower ranks. He was always keen on alchemy and applied necromancy. He devised a pressurized tank that saturated a body with his longevity potions and preserved the entire body at once. While the council debated for half a year about his designs and theories, he used the process on most of the lower ranks. They were desperate, and we were blinded to that desperation. And Malvos was correct; it did preserve their bodies and even granted them some regeneration. But there was a cost."

"It was a strain on their minds to constantly be holding themselves together. These weren't mages with the WIS or INT to manage the constant drain of mana that powered the regeneration. Slowly over time, they became how you see. The schism is complete. The lower brethren are a collection of parts held together by Malvos’s process. The senior brothers are tucked away neatly in containment suits. We’ve preserved our minds, but we can't stray from the complex, or we start shutting down. We're like any other machine here, needing power from the broadcasters."

While Milo was happy having things explained, he was still a bit upset about why they told him. "Which is just a very long explanation as to why I'm going down the shaft in a bucket."

Throttlecog just laughed loudly. "Oh hell, Chief, just be straightforward with him. Yes, that's why you get the honor of hopping in a bucket and heading for the nether regions to see what's gumming up the works. You don't need power, and hopefully, you'll be able to talk when you get back."

"What's down there? How deep does it go?" Looking down the borehole, Milo only saw the metal-sided shaft going into darkness.

The Chief pulled out a very old book from a shelf. Opening it, Milo saw it was filled with maps of each level of the tunnels. "Vaguely useless since the cataclysm. So many of the shafts and tunnels collapsed. Based on the exploration done, we surmised there was a cavern about 1000 feet below us. It was partially scouted long centuries ago and noted for a dozen exposed high-grade ore veins, crystal clusters, strange rock structures, and a small colony of acidic white slimes. All of that is valuable, even the slimes. You can distill high-grade acidic residues from them."

"We determined that part of the cavern was under the complex. The plan was to drill down, then extend the broadcast network down far enough to support a crew. Then widen the borehole for machinery and start working the new veins for metal we badly need."

That made sense to Milo. "But?"

"But something down there is gumming up the works. The drill is stuck, and worse, the shaft is filling up. Something plugged the end. The brethren we send down come up nearly catatonic with fear and refuse to go back down."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Milo looked at the Chief, then to Throttlecog. The latter just gave him a thumbs-up of encouragement.

"Well, of course, I'll help with the project, sir. It sounds exciting." That was certainly the answer the Chief was looking for. He quit smiling as Milo continued. “After all, that will gain me your personal thanks and promotion to regular journeyman. I bet you’ll be grateful enough to tell me about this magitech you mentioned. It sounds interesting.”

Throttlecog laughed as The Chief considered his newest applicant. “If you survive and can give an accurate statement of what’s down there, I’ll put your application to a vote. And…well, I’ll think about the other thing. Some secrets need to stay secrets.”

Two hours later, Milo found himself being lowered down into the shaft of the borehole in a steel bucket. A chain was used to lower him down, but there were also two lines that played out and were kept taunt. Tugging on the lines would get him lowered further, stopped, or brought hastily back up.

Milo was equipped in full engineer's gear. Heavy dwarven work boots and gloves, tough coveralls, hard hat, goggles, breathing filters, and three healing potions. He could see roughly 100 feet ahead of him from the mana-fueled lantern that hung above him. Slowly he went down, an endless succession of steel walls, the drill shaft, and a bucket for his companions. At around the 900-foot level, the dwarves slowed his descent. Shortly after that, he signaled a stop.

There was movement below him. He signaled another 20 feet of drop and then a hasty signal for STOP! Below him, the torch illuminated a heaving pool of white liquid. As he watched, pseudopods formed and wrapped around the drill shaft. Slowly, the mass crept up another inch higher. But what was in? A white slime had been mentioned. Had these crept into the borehole and plugged it? He signaled another 20 feet of drop, which put him only 15 feet above the slowly moving mass.

He watched it for half an hour. It was definitely gaining ground. Sometimes the pseudopods slipped or snapped off, but more often, they held tight, and the rest of the mass climbed up and over them. Milo decided to gather some data. He took a large bolt from his pocket and tossed it down. It hit the mass and slightly bounced before coming to rest. Pseudopods wrapped it up and drew it down.

Next, he tossed down an edible mushroom he'd eaten part of for lunch. As soon as it hit, a hole appeared and swallowed the mushroom. Pseudo pods formed, looking for more and waving around. Milo tossed another bolt. It simply sat on the mass, ignored, and slowly sank into it. The thing liked organic and didn't seem to eat metal. Time to try for a sample.

Milo summoned his 'tail' and anchored himself securely to the bucket. He tossed another 'shroom down, and as the pseudopods waved, looking for more, he swung down and, using his weapon, severed one. It reacted by wrapping around his weapon. Retracting his tail, he regained his perch in the bucket.

The slime on his weapon was still moving a little. He carefully poked it with his finger and hastily withdrew his hand as it dissolved the tip of his glove and burned his finger. Definitely a white acidic slime, then. He chugged down a healing potion to empty the glass jar but left a bit inside. The slime eagerly left his weapon when given the chance to drop into the remaining liquid. Milo closed it tightly. He had a sample to take back. Maybe one more experiment.

Milo lowered himself and swung Shadowblight at the mass of white goo. As expected, he didn't seem to do much damage. He saw a flicker of a message.

“….###.....!??..”

Interesting. He swung again. And again, the strange flicker. The mass didn't seem to do anything. Hoping that he was actually doing some damage and his weapon was increasing with each swing, he hacked a dozen times at its mass.

Eventually, his experiment paid off. But not in a good way.

The borehole vibrated, and the drill shaft moved back and forth several inches rapidly like it was being shaken. Pseudo pods erupted from the mass, much bigger and longer than before. Milo barely got out of the way. He'd started scrambling up the shaft, pulled by his tail, at the first vibration.

Ooblipimux the Ever-Pudding Sees You!!!

You have dared to hurt Ooblipimux! Current health: 999117/1000000

You have stolen mass from Ooblipimux!

Ooblipimux has decided that you will be its next acquisition of mass. Please jump down into the pleasantly waving pseudopods. Ooblipimux promises it will be fun.

Milo thought about the request; that really did sound fun! Should he take off his coveralls first, though? He really shouldn't damage guild property just because he wanted to swim in acidic slime.

He started to take off his hard hat and fell to his knees in pain. The pain cleared his head.

The thing had almost got him to jump with a powerful suggestion. It was too strong, though. His hard hat offered some protection from the mental intrusion; without it, the suggestion caused pain and confusion and was likely what had driven the lesser brethren mad. Quickly, he jerked on the rope for emergency extraction as the slime creature began its slow, determined ascent up the shaft.

"Don't worry, Ooby, I'll be back. You just tried to eat the wrong engineer!"

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