A small puff of steam and the satisfying click and grinding noise of gears engaging for the first time signaled to Mei-Ling that her final connections were successful. The device she had just built was quite a bit bigger than she had hoped, but the mechanism to coordinate all eight legs had proved challenging. Now that she knew it worked, Mei was already imagining a smaller, more efficient design.
Mei had just finished constructing a mechanical device that closely resembled a spider, with the exception that its legs were rather short, and instead of a head, there was a cluster of brushes and bristles. As Mei picked up the device, she couldn’t help but admire her mechanical creation. She carried it over to a wall in her small workshop, where a series of copper tubes of various diameters were connected together, ranging from the largest, almost half a meter wide, to the smallest, barely big enough to be hollow. Each of the tubes was perfectly spaced and marked with multiple labels. Mei approached the series of pipes, searching for the one that her clockwork contraption would fit into. She frowned when she realized it was much too big for the pipe she had initially hoped it would fit into and had to move up to six pipes in size before its body and limbs would fit.
With the proper pipe found, Mei inserted the brush end of the device into the one marked “Ballast/Waste/Main Blow Off”. She squeezed two of its back legs twice before releasing it into the pipe. A few puffs of steam burst from its side vents, and its legs began rotating and searching until they hit the inside of the pipe, shifting quickly to center and secure the device. The brushes spun into action as it slowly walked itself into the test pipe, disappearing from view. The whole process was mesmerizing to watch and Mei couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in her work.
Mei let out a deep sigh, her lips curling up into a smile. This was an expression she had unconsciously developed over the years, one that appeared whenever one of her new inventions would technically work, but not quite meet her expectations. The spider-shaped device she had just completed was intended to clean the Spectrocite release tubes found on V-100 Sparrow airships. These tubes were notorious for clogging, a result of the airship designers’ attempts to keep the vessel compact by inserting too many bends into the pipes.
Mei watched as the mechanical spider completed its journey through the test rack. It emerged from the bottom of the tube and dropped onto a small cushion with a soft thud. She picked up the spider, its body fitting comfortably in the palm of her hand, and deactivated it by gently squeezing its feet. She then carefully placed it on a shelf alongside a similar-looking prototype, ensuring that it was perfectly aligned with the shelf at a 90-degree angle and evenly spaced from the other mechanical objects. Mei pried open a panel on the spider’s top and removed its small, blue Spectrocite battery.
This ritual of putting her tools and supplies away after a long day of work was one that Mei had honed to perfection. She began by sorting the smallest items and placing them in specially labeled, color-coded bins. Once all the unused screws, cogs, gears, and other parts were properly stored, she meticulously cleaned and inspected each tool that had been used, occasionally pushing her glasses down her narrow nose or up onto her forehead to get a better look. Each tool was then returned to its designated spot on the workbench. Mei smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction as she slipped the last wrench into its holster, nestled between a slightly larger and slightly smaller wrench.
With a final look at her workbench, Mei confirmed that everything was in its place. Her workbench was a maze of tools, drawers, hooks, shelves, and hangers, and she took great pride in ensuring that every item was precisely where it should be. She recorded the time it took her to clean the workbench and jotted it down in a notebook, noting not just the time, but the items used, unused, and more. After inserting a silk bookmark into the notebook, she carefully closed it and placed it in its designated spot at the corner of her immaculate workbench.
Mei straightened her green dress, readjusting her glasses and the fabric of her underwear, and gave one last, slow scan of everything. Satisfied, she spun on her heels and left her small workshop, closing the door behind her and plunging the room into darkness, except for the constellation of lights from her many creations, which continued to twinkle and sparkle. Suddenly, the door creaked open again, and Mei’s head peered around its edge, her eyes scanning the room once more. After a brief pause, she confirmed that everything was still in its place and closed the door, leaving the workshop to bask in the soft glow of her mechanical stars.
Her small workshop was tucked away at the back of an airship hangar. Mei had scraped and saved every penny from each job until she had enough to buy the hangar, which was located too close to [Airport name] to pass up. Despite overpaying for it, Mei had a talent for inventing and repairing things, not for business. As she entered the empty hangar, her footsteps echoed across the smooth, exceptionally clean floor. Suddenly, a mooing sound echoed across the room, making Mei laugh. She approached three ornate birdcages near the front door, the mooing sound coming from a stocky black bird with bright yellow skin around its eyes. She opened the cage and it promptly flew out, landing on her shoulder it cocked its head at her and clearly said, “Done for the day.” Mei rubbed its belly with a delicate finger.
“Yes, Moo. I’m done.” The bird fluffed it’s wings and few back into it’s cage.
“Good.”
Two small birds, one shimmering green and the other pure white, chirped in the cage next to Moo’s. They cheerfully greeted Mei with clicks and whirs that perfectly mimicked the unique tools she used for working on airships. As she opened their cage door and the one next to it, a rainbow-feathered hummingbird shot out, zipping across the hangar and out of sight.
Mei usually allowed her birds to fly freely while she worked, but today she had caged Moo, her mischievous myna bird, after he caused trouble earlier. Moo had a habit of playing with the tools in Mei’s workshop, and today was no exception. He decided to have some fun by rearranging all the tools on her workbench, mixing up the screws, nuts, and bolts so that Mei couldn’t find anything she needed. As a result, she had to spend the morning sorting through the mess and trying to figure out where everything had gone. She had to cage all of her birds, not just Moo, If she didn’t, she would never hear the end of it, literally. The hummingbird, Xing, zipped back and headed to the opposite side. After being caged, Xing always had to fly from one end of the small hangar to the other. Yin and Yang, her green and white budgerigars, didn’t seem to mind their cage and were happily hopping from perch to perch. Moo, however, had his back turned to Mei, a clear indication that he was still in a foul mood. Mei climbed the narrow metal steps leading to the loft where she lived, with Xing catching up to her. The walkway overlooking the hangar was attached to two shipping containers arranged in an “L” shape in the corner of the upper level. Mei slid the door open, revealing a warm and inviting glow that sparkled off the rims of her round glasses.
Inside the shipping containers had been transformed into a functional and comfortable living space. It was well organized and spotless. A futon was perfectly centered on the far wall below a beautifully painted scroll featuring a flaming phoenix rising from blue ashes, it’s long tail feathers swirling in the flames, two crimson kites were hung on either side of the scroll. A low table held an ornate tea set, clearly a treasured heirloom. Opposite the futon and table was a small aviary for Mei’s four pet birds. Mei had constructed it with plenty of perches, toys, and activities to keep them entertained, especially for the often contancerous Moo. Xing, the hummingbird, flew directy to his flower shaped sugar water feeder and hovered with a soft buzzing sound as he ate. Yin and Yang appeared shortly and settled on their perches as Mei pulled out a small hot plate and a kettle. As she filled the kettle with water from the narrow sink, there was still no sign of Moo, she doubted he would join them tonight. She pulled the door almost closed, leaving it cracked with enough room for a grumpy myna bird to fit through, just in case he changed his mind.
The whistle of the kettle filled the room, causing its legs to unfold from its sides and lift it from the hot plate. Mei, preparing for bed, changed out of her dress. She removed her green cheongsam, a nod to her Chinese heritage, which was modified to be more functional with pockets and tool holders. She carefully folded it into a neat square. Underneath, she wore a velvet corset, held in place by laces and buckles that cinched tightly around her waist. She undid the buckles, then the laces, before removing the corset. Along with it came her artificial breasts, attached to the corset by straps sewn into it.
