Dusty, wet and filled with cobwebs, it was hardly like the clean workspaces that he had grown used to all that time ago. But then, in a strange way, it reminded him of the run-down apartment that he had first started out in, with its mold on the walls and questionable stains on the floor.
He closed that door behind him with a click and wandered over to the only table in the room, upon which there lay a little note, penned in thick black letters. "The keys are on the table, Miura-dono. I had them changed last night. You are the only one with access to this space now. I had your materials delivered as well. If you should need any more, please be sure to ask. Signed, Takeshi."
Gengyo carefully laid the note back down on the table with a smile. When he knew to look for them, it was not long before he found the stubby iron keys that Takeshi had mentioned. They looked large enough to keep a castle gate closed, never mind his little room in the bas.e.m.e.nt.
His materials were there too, just as had been said, but all of them were the rawest that they could be. There was none of the silicons or plastics that he would eventually need, nor even the oils to prepare them. A good deal of work was necessary and it was difficult to know where to begin.
Thankfully, there was a fireplace in one of those walls, even as the rest dripped with water. It had been fully stocked by a thoughtful little smith, with a bundle of tinder sitting under some dry sticks and a box of logs lying in wait next to them. Gengyo struck that to light first.
"I suppose it's fitting, isn't it?" He spoke to himself as he worked. "If I am to journey through human invention in this little space of mine, I should start back at the very beginning, with what started it all: our mastery of fire."
With the fire burning heartily, Gengyo held his hands by it to warm himself. It was not long too before the room began to warm up as well, and all the dampness that had been pooled on the floor arose upwards in a vapour.
"Good idea," he said, watching it do its work, "we'll do our electricity next, in a good old primitive way… A magnet and a coil of wire. That would be useful."
Gengyo rummaged through the pile of metal that had been left for him, but he did not find any naturally magnetic pieces of material, but he knew that would have been too much to hope. He could always ask Takeshi to find him one… Or he could magnetise something himself.
To make the coil of wire required would be an effort as well, especially without any real tools to help him. It was problem after problem after problem for Gengyo, but instead of feeling overwhelmed or even irritated, Gengyo felt excited. It was in his industrious nature to want to do more, and there he was, with a specific goal in mind, limited only by his own creativity.
He went to find Takeshi to get that which he required, and he returned an hour later with a roll of copper wiring – thicker than he needed for his purposes – and a handful of stone magnetites.
"Miura-dono!" Takeshi stopped him just as he was about to begin his work. "You said you needed thinner wire, so I made a quick coil of it. I hope this can be of use." He bowed as he put it in Gengyo's hand.
Gengyo grinned as he received it. "That saves me a lot of trouble, thanks Takeshi."
Takeshi bowed once more, before he disappeared to leave Gengyo to his work. Gengyo closed the heavy door after him, and looked at his materials once more.
"Well, the first order of business is to begin with a success, then build on that," he said, "so let's start with the simplest circuit and get it to work."
He recoiled a good amount of the copper wire around some hollowing tubing and he put the rest to his use, setting up the simplest of circuits. He took a tiny amount of tungsten from the chunk that he had been given and he drew it out into an extremely thin wire. He attached it up with copper wiring and included the coil as part of the circuit.
"That might be too thin," he realized as he looked at it. But then supposed it didn't matter. Even if the tungsten wire were to melt, it would have served its purpose of proving that a current had indeed been created.
He passed the magnet through the centre of the coil then brought it out again. In and out once more with an increasing regulatory. He put his eye to the circuit when he felt something should be happening and sure enough the tungsten wiring was glowing a bright red, ready to melt at any second.
Then, it grew in brightness, suddenly letting off a light as bright as the sun, just like a filament bulb. And, of course, the wire burned straight through and that faded a moment later. But Gengyo was grinning. To him, it was a huge success. Whilst it was ever so simple, it was those tiny fragments of simplicity that he needed to build up something more complex.
"Proof of concept achieved, now to make this automated, as any self-respecting roboticist should," Gengyo said to himself. The simplest way to do that was simply with water and steam and a good-old steam-powered wheel to get it going, but being on the scale of his tiny room, he was sure more cleverness would need to be done than that.
Nevertheless, he set about it. Above his fire, he placed a trough of water and he made sure he had sufficient fuel to keep it going for a good while. Then, with mathematical precision, he drew up the shape for a wheel.