Rosie took in the setting sun and returned to the lighthouse cellar. “Go through those packs, get yourself some gear. Clean and stow the rest.” Charlie pointed to the arms and workbenches. “Something quiet, something loud, and something sharp.” Rosie felt grateful for the instruction.

She found an odd mix of not quite familiar tools and workbenches, along with a new sense of freedom. Above all, the excitement of finally being able to make something useful took over and Rosie set to work.

She started by dumping out the packs Paul and Matt had brought back. A pair of carbines, along with another pair of the box magazine seven six two rifles that were far too long for her. In her own bag she set aside the gifted robotic eyes on stalks and spare stubby arms. She glanced at the note from John’s friend and put it somewhere safe.

Eager not to dwell on things she couldn’t change, Rosie fired up the induction forge. The coil pulsed with invisible energy, giving off heat. To get a feel for the new equipment, Rosie started with the blued steel crowbar, deciding to straighten it.

Intense heat, tongs, a vice, and thick leather gloves helped her shape it into a T. She began to hammer the doubled up side flat. Extending the bottom to act as a hand guard. With a rough shape taking hold, Rosie began grinding the metal to a sharp edge. The rear spike she kept notched and turned the bottom to a point.

The last touch came as a perfectly aligned twist in the steel to serve as a grip. After the hissing steam cleared Rosie felt the heft and balance of the newly reforged axe.

With something sharp taken care of, Rosie moved on to something quiet. She had an idea and she knew where to get the parts she’d need, yet Rosie rummaged through all the workbenches first.

A long polymer rifle case drew her attention. She heaved it onto the bench and snapped open the catches, finding it stuffed with damp sand that spilled everywhere. Rosie let out a grunt of frustration as she felt like the butt of yet another practical joke. Only there didn’t seem to be anybody hiding then laughing like in the Vault. She’d always hated that.

Rosie summoned her nerve and went below. Through the luxurious lounge, past the kitchen and bedrooms, into what this place really was. The modular, repeated design mimicked the Vault she’d lived exactly. The same parts, in the same order, built the same way.

Rosie shorted the main door panel in seconds. Knowing it couldn’t close helped sooth the growing panic itching beneath her skin. Each echoing footstep only made it spread. At the end of the low corridor Rosie found what she needed, storage rooms.

Her fingers dragged along the wall of shelves in the tight room, just enough space to turn around. Rosie found a Vault issued toolbox and snapped open the catches. Finding a complete, never used set of the well made drills, screwdrivers and hand tools. The same models she’d used for years. She smiled and then instantly felt disgusted with herself. It took real effort not to hurl the toolbox into the corridor, but that would have meant even more time down here.

Rosie’s frustration broke as she started to neatly clear one of the shelves. She lashed out at the boxes and canned food, sweeping them onto the floor with a calamitous racquet. A few seconds passed and Rosie heard two knocks from the end of the corridor. She knew the signal, responding in kind would mean hostiles nearby.

“I’m ok.” Rosie yelled, the echo of her voice sickeningly familiar. Charlie appeared at the door to the small storeroom, dressed in a long, thin, patterned robe. “Sorry, it fell.” Charlie didn’t believe her.

“I didn’t think you’d be down here.” Charlie laid her pistol on a stack of boxes, smiling through her frustration.

“The shelves are made from galvanised steel pipe.” Rosie tapped the pipe she wanted to cut free. “’You can never have enough pipe’.” Rosie tried to make a joke, it only made her sad to think of all the time she’s spent stripping pipes out. “I won’t be much longer, you should get back.”

“I’ll wait.” Charlie smiled and Rosie felt her stress ease.

The attachments for the drill were in the toolbox, exactly where she knew they would be. Brand new, never used. In seconds the cutting disc freed the length of pipe from the shelf. The whirring motor and sound of biting into steel filled the small room. She switched to the hole cutting bit, finding the right size from the complete set.

Rosie picked out a spot to start drilling. Clear of any cables behind and easily hidden. After the first steel disc shook free from the bit, it occurred to her that she didn’t have to line up neatly for the next one. In a fashion that would have earned her a week of punishment, Rosie bored eight more holes in a haphazard manner.

“Can you get a folding crate from in there?” Rosie asked, not wanting to go into another Vault storage room. “Should be on the bottom right.” Charlie turned and headed into the opposite room.

Now alone, Rosie lay down. She pressed her feet flat against the cold steel wall behind the cleared shelf, and reached over her head. She wasn’t able to touch the other side.

“Got one, right where you said it’d be.” Charlie returned with a folding crate and a pitying glance.

“You remember what I told you about my room?” Rosie tried to keep her voice from breaking. “This is bigger.” Rosie watched as Charlie looked around the narrow storage room, trying to keep a smile on her face to mask her own anger and disgust. A pale reflection of Rosie’s own. Charlie knelt to make eye contact with her.

“Rosie, listen to me. You are never going back to a room like this. Never. We won’t allow it.” Rosie believed her and felt more grateful than ever to have found these people. “Come on, Paul will bring this stuff topside.”

“No, I got it.”

With the cut pipe, metal discs, brazing rods, drill and a handheld arc welder loaded in the folding crates, Rosie left Charlie at the stairs and went back to work. She’d always found the long hours in the repair shop torturous, not to mention pointless. Here, left to her own devices and doing something useful, Rosie found a kind of relief in working her mind and hands.

First she stripped down a carbine, cutting down the barrel to match the one Brandon used. She used the drill to put more holes in the metal discs, and tacked them in place along the length of the barrel with the arc welder. Just like fabricating an exhaust pipe for the heavy diesel drills.

Then she replaced the stock with a precisely bent brazing rod so it collapsed around the body of the gun. And finally slid the pipe over the barrel, tacking it in place. The system in her eyes scanned her weapon and ran projections. It gave her a number in decibels that sounded quiet. However Rosie had another idea of how to get that number down further.

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Charlie’s last instruction had been to get something loud. Rosie went back and forth over a few options, settling on one of the long assault rifles. She could barely hold it comfortably. The polymer fixed stock and front hand guard came off easily enough, quickly replaced with the now spare carbine parts.

Rosie trimmed the barrel from the rear, keeping the front sight and compensator. A brief rummage through the workbenches turned up a vertical grip. Rosie used another brazing rod to form a retractable bipod, housed inside the grip.

Her assigned tasks completed, Rosie turned her attention to the robotic parts John’s friend had given her. She detached the silver orb shaped eye and separated the back panel. Revealing the advanced circuitry within. Rosie’s vision became filled with data as each component got scanned and identified.

Her nimble fingers prised loose a micro transmitter and she touched the four pin connector in its place. A window appeared in the corner of her vision, showing only black, until she turned the lens to face her. Rosie laughed as she watched herself wave through the mechanical eye. She nearly went to get Charlie, but felt bad for disturbing her and Paul already. She didn’t think Matt would want to know. Not until she’d tested her idea fully.

Footsteps and the smell of real food drew Rosie’s attention away from her work. She’d worked through the night. Paul poured hot coffee from a shining silver pot into delicate cups. He looked to be enjoying it more than Rosie.

“Morning sunshine. Sit.” Paul pulled out a seat at the table, a silver dome covering each of the plates. Rosie understood that it would have been much easier to do this downstairs.

Matt came down from holding the watch at the top of the lighthouse. Stopping dead at the mess Rosie had left from the night before. He sat with his back to the tools not put away, scrap and offcuts tossed around, but he couldn’t help staring back at it. If she’d have left the Vault repair shop like this it’d be a shift in organic recyc at least. Somehow this felt worse to her. Inconsiderate, she thought to herself.

Charlie started to say something but Paul stopped her with a raised hand. “Sit. Eat.” The silver domes gave off a quiet ring as Paul lifted them from the table in turn. Revealing steaming bowls of oats. A plate of brightly coloured fruit slices and a plate of light brown circles.

“Pancakes.” Paul held up his hand again as Charlie reached for one. “With syrup.” He poured a thick liquid from a tin can. Rosie abandoned the fine cutlery almost immediately. Tearing through sweet fruit and sticky pancakes with her grease smeared hands. Countering the sweetness with the rich dark coffee.

“Thank you.” Rosie said as she finished her sumptuous breakfast.

“Not bad for century old tin cans. And we couldn’t have found it without your help, so you don’t need to thank me.” Paul continued to eat, slowly, savouring each bite.

“I meant thank you for bringing it up here.” Rosie smiled and got up to start tidying.

“If you’re done eating I want you topside, you’re still too pale.” Charlie’s tone left little room for objection. Rosie tried anyway.

“Shouldn’t I tidy up?” Rosie realised she’d made a mistake.

“No. Matt, who’s been on watch all night, will have to do it. You need to be outside so you don’t stick out like a bad rivet” Charlie took a sip from the fine ceramic cup. Her stern expression undercut by an amused glance from the others.

“Sorry Matt.” Rosie made eye contact, still not used to actually apologising.

“Honestly, it’s fine.” Matt lied, Rosie knew it.

“Gear up Rosie.” She grabbed the carbine and slung the rifle as Charlie ordered. Rosie made more mess as she searched for her axe. Charlie cleared her throat in an exaggerated fashion and pointed to the wooden kitchen cupboard behind her. Rosie had thrown it without thinking of the damage.

Wood splintered and cracked further as she pulled it free. Paul seemed to find it funny. The others did not. “I need help with the light machine gun.” Paul found that funny too.

A short walk through the red forest brought Rosie to a clearing. Charlie strode ahead, spraying orange dots of paint on the trees. Paul laid down the light machine gun and Rosie started fitting the repurposed robot parts.

“You know it’s the bullets that make the noise right?” Charlie aimed the cut down and integrally suppressed carbine. Rosie took the extra magazine from her pack and ejected a single round, handing it to Charlie as she took back her carbine.

“I ground down the tip to reduce the aerodynamics so they’re subsonic.” Rosie saw Charlie and Paul share an impressed look.

“And you’re sure it’s not going to explode in your face?” Charlie asked, handing her the carbine.

“I’m sure.” Rosie trusted her own welding, to say nothing of the system analysis.

“Alright, double taps.” Rosie extended the stock and gripped the receiver tight.

The carbine clacked as pairs of bullets embedded in the centre of the painted dots, splintering and cracking the trunks. Charlie let out a long whistle. She took the carbine from Rosie and fired off the rest of the magazine. “Well that’s a little honey. Now go loud.”

The higher calibre assault rifle kicked as shots rang through the forest. It took effort to keep on target, even with the foregrip. “Good. Now show me these toys you’ve made.”

Rosie used the notch she’d cut into her axe to tighten up the bolts that held the robotic arm and eye to the light machine gun. “This is just an experiment.” Rosie wanted to keep expectations low. She pushed and pulled at Paul, positioning him like another part. “Just try and keep it steady, I’ll do the rest.”

“Yes sir.” Charlie laughed at Paul’s response. Rosie didn’t get it.

“So you can see through these things?” Charlie sounded sceptical.

“I can do more than that.” Rosie turned her back and opened up the window within her vision.

She could make out the front sight of the gun and remotely activated the robotic arm. The claw like grip squeezed the trigger, sending an ear shattering burst of fire into the painted tree and beyond. Rosie smiled as the system lowered the volume in ears. She tried the next command. Paul gripped the gun tighter as the linear actuator, taken from the robot arm, pushed to angle the barrel and fire again.

Paul cleared the weapon and stood, a smile across his face. “Well that felt weird.” Charlie still seemed unsure.

“I’ve got an idea for the mounts, and to boost the capacity...and range.” It felt strange to seek approval for her work. She never cared about anything she crafted in the Vault, aside from her coding, and only John saw that.

“Make another one. And four more carbines.” Charlie smiled and punched Rosie in the arm. “Then paint ‘em black.”