They lead them through a hallway to a back entrance to the machine shop that doesn't pass through the main lab. They unlock the door with key codes and a retinal scan. Apparently, they're trying to avoid them getting glimpses of the rest of the labs inner workings.
The machine shop is very large, because some components of the rig are huge. There are bay door that lead right outside. Peter figures they probably have cranes to help move the components.
There are lots of machines for metal work, even some equipment for forging metal pieces, some massive 3D printers that look like they can work with plastics, carbon, even semi-molten metal. And there's a smaller room with work tables and smaller more intricate tools, bins of servos and wires. There's a metal slab there, human sized.
The main machine shop is quiet, the robotics room is empty, it's a good time to be working on someone that likely wants privacy.
"This'll do. We'll also need a sheet and a pillow."
The personal assistant looks confused. "What for?" he asks.
"Uh, because he's going to have to take off his clothes for me to get at what needs to be fixed, so that lets him still be decent, and because pillows are comfy."
"Why does it matter if he's naked. It's just a ro -"
"He. I thought we established this already."
"Fine," huffs the assistant. "I'll go get a sheet and a pillow."
The other hovers near the door, like she plans to settle in and hang around.
"As for you, buh-bye," says Peter.
"What?"
"Did you get told you have to supervise us?"
"Well no, but -"
"Usually doctors' exam rooms have a little privacy. So...buh-bye."
The assistant rolls her eyes and decides to leave because she wasn't told to supervise so it'd be nice to go on break.
Peter waves Cayde in and closes the door behind them. He doesn't lock it yet, so the one assistant can bring the pillow and sheet in once he's back. He adjusts the examination table so Cayde can comfortably sit on it.
"Take a seat," says Peter, rummaging through the bins and supplies. "Why don't you tell me about your boo boos while I scope out all our components and equipment here."
He shakes his head in pitiful disbelief.
"No lollipops or toy chest, this doctor's office is the pits."
no subject
The machine shop is very large, because some components of the rig are huge. There are bay door that lead right outside. Peter figures they probably have cranes to help move the components.
There are lots of machines for metal work, even some equipment for forging metal pieces, some massive 3D printers that look like they can work with plastics, carbon, even semi-molten metal. And there's a smaller room with work tables and smaller more intricate tools, bins of servos and wires. There's a metal slab there, human sized.
The main machine shop is quiet, the robotics room is empty, it's a good time to be working on someone that likely wants privacy.
"This'll do. We'll also need a sheet and a pillow."
The personal assistant looks confused. "What for?" he asks.
"Uh, because he's going to have to take off his clothes for me to get at what needs to be fixed, so that lets him still be decent, and because pillows are comfy."
"Why does it matter if he's naked. It's just a ro -"
"He. I thought we established this already."
"Fine," huffs the assistant. "I'll go get a sheet and a pillow."
The other hovers near the door, like she plans to settle in and hang around.
"As for you, buh-bye," says Peter.
"What?"
"Did you get told you have to supervise us?"
"Well no, but -"
"Usually doctors' exam rooms have a little privacy. So...buh-bye."
The assistant rolls her eyes and decides to leave because she wasn't told to supervise so it'd be nice to go on break.
Peter waves Cayde in and closes the door behind them. He doesn't lock it yet, so the one assistant can bring the pillow and sheet in once he's back. He adjusts the examination table so Cayde can comfortably sit on it.
"Take a seat," says Peter, rummaging through the bins and supplies. "Why don't you tell me about your boo boos while I scope out all our components and equipment here."
He shakes his head in pitiful disbelief.
"No lollipops or toy chest, this doctor's office is the pits."