Throughout the walk and even the elevator ride, I noticed that people seemed wary of my drone. They moved to the side or even left the space entirely. It was almost like they thought that the thing would just target them. The whole situation made me want to pull my hair out, as a drone would never do something it wasn’t ordered to do. Well, not unless the programming controlling the logic was piss poor.

  Okay, the more I thought about it, the more the fear made sense. I was a new student, so they had no clue what my drone was programmed to do. Or even what safeguards I had built into it. They didn’t even know if the system was fully autonomous or following a set program.

  And the worst part was the way my guide made sure that she kept me between her and the drone. Even as we entered a massive room with tables and workstations scattered across the place, she made sure to maintain her position.

  I stopped paying attention to her as Bert appeared from behind one of the massive machines to my right. “There you are!” He looked both happy to see me and bored.

  A woman who looked like a Greek goddess followed after and overtook Bert as she made her way toward me. Her smile was wide enough that it nearly split her face. “You must be Eli.” Her eyes widened at the drone hovering behind me. “And that must be the annoying monstrosity that my meathead of a boyfriend was talking about.”

  Ah, so that meant this was Marcy. Well, unless the idiot decided to cheat on her. Not that I thought that he would.

  “Hey!”

  “Shush, you.” She chastised Bert before turning to look at my guide. “And you are?”

  “Leaving.” If Marcy hadn’t brought attention to my guide, I wouldn’t have noticed just how uncomfortable she seemed. But I had no clue why she was uncomfortable.

  “Oh, please stay,” Marcy begged. “I promise that this meathead won't do anything. And it would be nice to have another girl to talk with.” My guide went still and seemed to almost fight with herself over something. Finally, she gave a short, sharp nod that caused Marcy to practically bounce with excitement. “I’m Marcy Evans, and this is my boyfriend Bert Caldwell.”

  As Marcy introduced the two of them, I realized I had never introduced myself. So, a bit sheepish, I spoke. “Um, my name is Eli Tazlin.” Marcy shot me a look that implied that she was questioning my sanity.

  “Sharina Kinsley.” One of her hands fiddled with a tool on her belt as she spoke. “But only my parents call me that. Please just call me Shar.” This side of her was very different than the one I had gotten to know over the last hour. Just what was going on?

  Actually, I didn’t want to know. I was here to work, and that was what I was going to do. “Which workbench can I use?”

  While my question caught the three of them by surprise, Shar gestured at the nearest one. But instead of letting me go off on my own, she leapt at the chance to join me. “Actually, why don’t I help you?”

  As I approached the workbench, I noticed that there was a decent indent in the metal surface. One that I couldn’t tell if it was put there on purpose or if it had been put there by accident and just left. Then again, it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was the fact that it was a decent spot for my drone to land. The dent would even help to support the belly of the drone.

  So, with a tap and some careful maneuvering, I got the drone settled into the spot. As the blades powered down, I started to search for some tools. Thankfully, they weren’t all that hard to find. Most of the basics, and I mean the basics, sat in a nearby rolling toolbox.

  Of course, that wasn’t all I needed, but it would be a good place to start. For the first time in my life, I grabbed a socket and a handle and got to removing bolts by hand. And boy was I happy that none of the damned things were overly tight. Still, the whole process was tedious and had me debating between fixing my old tools now or getting the drone finished.

  What must have felt my frustration as she practically tore the ratchet out of my hand and shoved a different tool into its place. The design of it was similar to mine, but it looked more worn. As though the thing had been used and maintained for years, maybe even a decade.

  I nodded at her in thanks for the device. With a practiced tap and flick, I selected the attachment I wanted. All that it needed now was a pulse of mana to power the various mechanisms and we would be good. Unfortunately, as I started to move my mana to do so, what felt like a bolt of static electricity hit my wrist.

  I felt a bit embarrassed by the discharge. It was something that happened when someone didn’t control their output. And since it was still tied to the person using it, the mana didn’t disperse. It gathered in the air around the leak. Then, as soon as the pressure was high enough, the mana would force its way out.

  Now, the air could contain it, but air wasn’t a great conductor of mana. Not when compared to metal or even living materials. As such, it will typically ground its way into the nearest object rather than into the atmosphere. And in this case, that nearest object just so happened to be my arm.

  It hurt. And I don’t just mean physically either. This wasn’t something that happened to me. Not anymore. Not since I learned control all those years ago. Yet here I was, failing to even demonstrate basic mana control. That was not acceptable. Not for me.

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  With an annoyed huff, I tuned the world out as I focused on the mana in my body. My mind strained as I forced a tiny stream of mana to separate and travel to my hand. To move through my fingers and into the tool itself.

  Another bolt of electricity disrupted the flow of mana as it forced its way in. Unlike the last one, however, this bolt didn’t just stop at disrupting the mana. It went a little deeper, causing my hand to spasm.

  “What the fuck is wrong with me?” My voice came out in a growl of frustration. The mana had been under my control the entire time. There was no leakage. So what the fuck was going on?

  You know what, if doing this slowly, carefully, wasn’t going to work, then I was just going to go full out. Mana rushed toward the tool and rebounded off something. Alone, the force of the rebound was enough to cause me to hiss, but the small storm of bolts that hit my arm was enough to cause every muscle in my arm to jerk and spasm.

  While it took a little while, the various muscles calmed, and the pain eased up. Still, I was afraid to look at my arm. No matter how small the bolts might have been, or how fast they might have hit, there would be some damage. Some burnt skin or even a bit of blood and gore. I hesitated for a minute before I forced myself to look.

  I found nothing. No burns. No blood. Not even a bruise. It was as though nothing had happened. In fact, the only thing on my arm was the damned bracelet the healer had put around it.

  It took a minute, but I felt like an idiot when I realized just what was going on. Of course my mana was stuck in my body. Other than following the normal processes and circulation, it was forced to stay where it was. There was no way I would be able to use it to power anything.

  A groan escaped me as I realized just how much harder this was going to be. I mean, sure, I had known that I couldn’t use mana, but I don’t think it really sank in until the very act was prevented.

  Slowly, I passed the tool back to Shar. While she had a confused look on her face, she accepted it and even let me take the ratchet back. It only occurred to me a minute later to ask for her help.

  “Hey,” my voice was tentative as I didn’t know what she would think of my request. “You mind giving me a hand?”

  “Sure.” Her voice was practically giddy with excitement. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Can you get me a system interface and programmer?” Oh, fuck. I might have a problem. The device I used at home required a little bit of mana to interface with it. No, the thing didn’t read one's thoughts. Mana was just used to allow for one or interact with the various parts and to do somethings that were a bit harder on a fully manual system. A system I had never used.

  Yet it looked like I was going to get the chance today. Great. “Please get one with a fully manual interface.” I just had to hope they had one. If not, I would have to figure something out.

  Well, I could always use some leads and a special board to make a makeshift interface that used my pad as the control system. It wouldn’t be elegant or all that great, but it would get the job done.

  As I removed the last bolt, Shar made an appearance. Dangling from her arms was a rather bulky piece of equipment. And judging by the dust, it wasn’t something that saw much use.

  With a heavy thump, Shar placed the device onto the table. While I removed the drone’s cover, she started to open it up and plug it into a nearby mana socket. Together, we worked to get all the cables and press points connected.

  As soon as the last connection was made, she flicked the switch. I felt the tiny surge of mana that flooded through the socket and into the machine as the device powered up. Fans whirled at top speed while various components gave off a harsh buzz. Slowly, the noise died down and the controls on the device lit up.

  With a simple tap, a holographic interface flickered to life in the space above the machine. Another tap, and the device connected with the drone’s systems. I watched as data and information filled the interface. From current power levels to flight logs. From system toggles to command protocols. Everything about the drone appeared in front of me. Given what I was seeing, the device was the top of the line.

  Still, some of what I was seeing was confusing. I don’t remember programming the system with command protocols. Hell, I couldn’t, even if I had tried. Without this machine, or something like it, I would have been unable to even access the internal systems.

  The only thing that I had been able to do while on the train was make a controller and add an interface to the drone. That interface took the commands it received from the controller and fed various instructions into the drone computer, all while piping the information the drone gave it back to the controller for the user to see. Makeshift, yes. But it worked.

  Which begged the question, how in the hell were there any commands listed in the system? Actually, forget that. I had other things to deal with, namely modifying the programming to allow for the various fan modes. Yes, modes. After all, why stop at just enabling the ability for it to use mana? Why not allow it to do both at once? Sure, it would be so inefficient as to be stupid, but I would rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it.

  Holographic representations of mana threads broke and reformed at my touch. Disconnecting one device from another as I rebuilt some of the circuits. And no, this was not the normal way to modify magical circuits. The materials and designs for modifiable circuits were both hard to work with and a tad expensive.

  How an old research computer from a recently bought-out company had found its way into the junk heap, I would never know. But that thing had some decent stuff I was able to use.

  I don’t know how long I stood there, working, when something pulled on my shoulder. “Go away,” I growled as I reworked another series of circuits. I had to find a way for the motors to work the way I wanted. Another tug had me whirling around to face the person who just caused me to fuck up a circuit. “BERT!”

  To my surprise, Shar was the person who stood in front of me, not Bert. In fact, I saw Bert snoring the time away on a bench just a little ways away. And splayed out on top of him was Marcy.

  “You need to get some rest.” For some reason, I had the distinct impression this wasn’t the first time she had said those words to me.

  “I am not all that tired.” With mana, fixing the drone would have been hard, but possible. Without it, I would be lucky to even get half of the work done. There just wasn’t enough time to sleep. Not if I wanted to have this thing ready for the test.

  “No!” Her voice was firm. “I don’t care if you find a bench and pass out, but you will be taking a nap.”

  “I don’t have time for this.”

  I turned to get back to work, but she forced me to face her. “I have watched you rebuild that same circuit five times. You need to rest.” Oh. Yeah. That might be a problem. But I couldn’t waste time sleeping. Then again, would it be a waste if it saved me time fixing mistakes?

  The more I thought about it, the more I saw that she was right. I didn’t have much of a choice. With some grumbled words, I locked the machine and found my way into one of the padded benches. My eyes were just starting to close when something was tossed over me. I didn’t bother to open my eyes to see what it was. I just accepted it and passed out.