Offcut was a tinker bot on the Planet Swarf.
Like all robots on Swarf he served a feudal master.
Offcut's master was called Lord Grilla, a bellicose bot who ravaged the neighbouring lands like a greased dragon in its insatiable thirst for oil.
Like all worker droids Offcut had a single task. His job was to sniff out the carboniferous scent of the oil slicks buried beneath the detritus of the Swarf wars.
For the first thousand years Offcut had performed his duties with obedient zeal and aplomb. Grilla had been pleased with this olfactory droid who always managed to find the hidden slicks.
'You are my divining rod, my oil dowser Off cut!' praised Grilla through its steel mouth.
Offcut had found so much oil that the tanker droids had been at full capacity for the last millenium. The drums were piled high in Grilla's desert kingdom like church spires for a fossil god, a god that had powered the fatuous warring of Swarf's Barons.
When Offcut located a new slick, he would take a sample of the oil with his cup hand, raise his wired arm and sound the alarm in triumph.
Grilla wood lurch over the surface of mangled machines, his excitement forged in a furnace of greed and a corrupted obsession to possess every last drop of oil on Swarf.
Behind the giant leader the extractors came, gathering in their thousands, file after file of diligent syphons. Beyond their serried ranks stood the legions of tanker droids towering in the solar glare like rockets.
As Royal diviner Offcut had the privilege of pouring the sample of oil into Grilla's intake, sending the robot Lord into a frenzy of avarice. He then leapt, as he always did, into the waiting slick and windmilled his metal arms through the thick black liquid.
Once fully bathed Grilla would beckon his batteried concubines to join him, whereupon a flotilla of ironclad maids paddled across and gently daubed the fluid all over their Lord's ancient gears and servos, Grilla's pleasure sensors very nearly overloading.
Offcut had witnessed this ritual for a thousand years.
His crystal eye remained alert but lately something was growing inside him, which he did not recognise.
Somewhere in his circuits a cable had frayed he surmised.
A stop in the repair shop would sort it out. But the glitch persisted and although he didn't know it Offcut felt the fizzy beginnings of boredom.
In his musty repair station the sniffer bot began to search for a loose connection. He poked and probed but didn't find anything wrong.
With nothing better to do Offcut reached for the spool of solder with his pincer so he could strengthen his nasal cabling. Taking it down from the top shelf he suddenly glimpsed a row of old tins swathed in a thick layer of dust.
'I don't remember those!' he clicked and put them on his work bench.
Offcut stared at the tins.
His vision program, much weaker than his nose, could only just discern through the dust the word on the side of each of them.
He was perplexed. Where had they come from.
Curiosity taking over, the little droid flipped the lid from the first tin. Immediately a vapour rose from the inside and Offcut, with his amplified rhino-sensors, inhaled deeply.
The sensation that greeted him was like nothing he had experienced before. This was a new and alien aroma unlike anything the bot had ever smelled. It was beautiful, enchanting and endearing in equal measure and Offcut was entranced.
He opened the second can and to his delight it held an even more intoxicating scent than the first. Taking it in he imagined hot steamy rainforests of lithium trees and wide barometer seas of mercury glinting in starlight. He blinked his one eye.
Quivering with excitement the small droid released the third and final lid.
If the first two bouquets had startled him with their groundbreaking beauty he was now transfixed by the mist rising from this last tin.
Cranking his olfactory scale up to the maximum Offcut breathed in the fog as fully and entirely as his receptors would allow.
The result was an eruption of gorgeous hues and hope-filled horizons that overwhelmed the robot.
Offcut fell over in a fugue of rapturous joy, his pincers twitching wildly in the motes of dust.
Righting himself the droid closed the three tins and sat for hours reflecting on what he'd found and what, if anything, he should do.
Suddenly he beeped loudly and had an idea. With all his creative programming whirring, Offcut removed the lids once more and reached for an old silver spoon.
Working through the night in a state of happy chatter and flashing lights the diminutive sniffer bot laboured at his bench.
When dawn broke through his corrugated hut slits Offcut was ready and held his creation high in his cupped hand.
He stared with pride and glee at the sparkling liquid he had concocted. It's scent was breathtakingly magical and Offcut felt sure that it would change the world.
'I must show my master!'
With his sample cup held aloft the invigorated bot trundled to Grilla's scrapyard palace between the towers of oil.
The robot chief was chastising his company of downtrodden bookkeepers all sat in a line of rusting desks. They were vigorously scribbling into oil-spattered ledgers, their shaky heads down for fear of being slapped by Grilla's huge brass palm.
'Master Master!' beeped Offcut. 'I have made something new for you, something glorious! Behold!'
Grilla lifted the sniffer droid in front of his grinding facial machinery.
'This better be good Offcut! I was busy counting my new barrels. You have disturbed me!'
'My apologies Sire, but you will think it worthy when you experience the result of my night's labouring.'
The little bot raised his cup hand towards his Lord's small but working nose and said
'smell it!'
The metal giant inhaled and ...
winced.
'What is it?'
'Ah, there is a copious dollop of thick treacle, a heaped spoon of wonderful smelling salts and a generous slug of liquid enamel.'
Offcut was pleased with his description.
He went on.
'I think it smells better than oil!'
'What did you say? What did you just say to me?' roared Lord Grilla.
Offcut froze as his colossal brass hand began to curl around him.
'Nothing smells better than oil you insolent dog. I fear you have outstayed your welcome droid! Your position as my Royal diviner is now up!'
'I'm so sorry Lord! I did not mean to offend you. I will...
... but it was too late for Offcut. Grilla's palm closed around him and there was a terrible crunch.
Grilla crushed his little wiry frame until the lights in the little bot's intelligent eye almost went out.
The robot Baron placed Offcut's carcass on the ground in front of the scribbling bookkeepers, who looked pitifully at his wreck and scribbled even harder.
Grilla, who was now busy once again caressing his drums of oil, did not see his favourite golden concubine approach the body of Offcut.
She stared with confused orbs at the scrap that was once the faithful droid.
She noticed his cupped hand still outstretched and she bent to breathe in the mysterious scent she could smell.
Offcut, in his dying moments, saw her eyes widen with joy and whispered gently to her
'Please take it.'
As she rolled away holding Offcut's unclipped cup hand close to, the once Royal diviner caught a final wondrous whiff of enamel and let his crystal eye slowly start to close for the very last time.
