Okay, so Sweeney's a serial killer who lodges with a cannibal, but there was a bit of the same sentiment here by the time this chapter was done.
And now, with 90 less cannibalism! And, on with the show...
RESEMBOOL
"Alright, try this now."
It was a casing of metal, with wires and gears exposed on both sides. A cup on the end fit neatly over his stump as he tugged it on, and she wound a pair of straps carefully along either side of his thigh, to hold it tight. The bottom part of it was a steel boot.
He frowned. "I'm gonna need something stronger than straps."
He got a wrench to his belly for his trouble, wincing as she tapped him a good one. "Don't tell me how to do my job. This is just the calibrator. I need to know how much you weigh, how you walk. Basically, what kind of stress you're putting on your legs with your regular routine. It's not connected to your nerves, so you won't have much control over that. It's just to show me how to design the actual leg itself."
"So it's a pegleg?"
Winry snorted up at him. "Well yes, but that's the equivalent of calling a modern pistol a blackpowder cannon. This is WAY more advanced than a pegleg."
Guts nodded, though he had no idea what a "modern pistol" might be. Winry finished tightening the last strap.
"Okay, try walking around on it now."
He obliged by stumping around the room. Little needles jumped on the dials of the fake leg, with every step. It was awkward at first, but after five minutes he was getting the hang of it.
"Good enough, stop."
Winry knelt down and examined the dials. "Okay, we've got your weight calculated in. That's the vital part, everything else from here is just extrapolation."
"Is weight that important?"
"Weight's everything! If your leg isn't properly load-bearing, you could wear it out in no time, or have it crack on you in midstep, or worse."
"Hold on, then."
Guts stumped outside, and returned with his sword on his back, his metal leg screaming with every step.
Winry panicked. "GAH! Stop, don't move!" Guts obliged by freezing in midstep.
Winry checked the dials again, and glared up at him with an accusing look in her eyes. "That thing weighs two-hundred and thirty-eight pounds! How the heck are you even carrying it without breaking your back?"
Guts shrugged.
"I just do. I'm used to it."
She shook her head. "All right. Well, sit down and let me reset the calibrator. Otherwise it'll be way too sensitive."
She tinkered with it for a few minutes, as Guts watched, patient and calm. Pinako stomped into the room at one point, glared at them both and left a tray of tea and cakes before she stomped out. Puck flew over and helped himself, while the metal-limbed dog whimpered and hid under the table.
It had gotten used to Guts, but Puck was another matter.
Finally, Winry stood up, her hands covered in oil.
"Okay, there we go."
He walked around some more, the floor creaking with every step. Finally, Winry nodded. "What is that thing, anyway? It almost looks like a sword."
"ItIS a sword."
She laughed. "Yeah, right. With THAT weight? It'd rip your arms right off the second you reached the end of the arc. And if you actually hit something solid with it, the recoil would break most of your bones."
"It's a sword, and I fight with it."
She stopped chuckling, and eyed him. He looks serious. Deadly serious. And if he is...
Winry remembered her first attempts at automail for Ed, and the kind of stress that a good fight put on them. And that was for an 80-pound 13-year old.
"Okay." She said. "Let's head outside. Show me how you fight."
Pinako was in the kitchen, preparing a pot roast. Though she didn't like to admit it, having three for dinner gave her a welcome chance to stretch her recipes. Might as well make the best of a bad situation. She bent over the crock pot, poking at the vegetables and meat inside.
There was a CRACK.
Winry screamed.
Pinako leaped to the window, and looked out.
Pinako ducked.
A chunk of shrapnel from the calibrator leg crashed through the window.
The remnants shattered the crock-pot, before becoming embedded in the wall.
Pinako looked back out the window.
The big man was on the ground, his... sword? Was in his hand, and the old tree in the yard had been cut in half. The upper half of the tree was a good twenty feet away, and Winry was standing there in shock, her mouth open as she stared at the remnants of the leg calibrator on Guts' knee.
The remaining dials were well past the red zones.
Pinako "Hmph'd" to herself, cleaned up the crockpot remnants, and decided to go with roast lamb instead.
ONE HOUR LATER
It was a quiet dinner. Guts ate quickly, like any professional soldier. Winry spent most of it shoving around her lamb on her plate, and drawing in her notebook, while muttering to herself. Occasionally she'd tear off a page, ball it up, and throw it into the fire. Pinako found herself in an oddly cheerful mood, and hummed as she took her time with her plate.
Finally, Winry looked up in despair. "Grandma, I need your help."
"Out of the question."
"I... there's more force here than I know how to deal with. There's a ton of stress, and he absorbs it with his entire frame. He's obscenely skilled with that... that... thing! Sword. Whatever."
Guts followed the exchange, chewing on his leg of lamb.
Pinako raised an eyebrow. "And? I told you, do as you please. Leave me out of it."
"..." Winry sighed, and rubbed her eyes. "Fine. I'll sleep on it, we'll try again tomorrow."
Guts nodded, rose with the help of his crutch, and headed to the door.
"Where do you think you're going, young man?" Snapped Pinako.
Guts paused.
"Finding a good sleeping spot. Some soft fields out there."
"Out of the question."
Guts looked back. "Thought you kicked me out earlier?"
"That was before I got a yardful of fallen tree. You'll stay here tonight, and in return you'll chop firewood. You can handle that sword of yours, you can handle a chopping axe one-handed."
Puck leaned over the table. "Huh! She's got a heart after all..."
"Guess so." Guts nodded.
Pinako nodded. "Good. It's a deal then. Your bedroom's downstairs."
He nodded. "I'll catch some air first. Be back in a bit."
"Do as you please." And Pinako started clearing the table.
He stumped outside, and parked his back against the newly created treestump. Next to it, his sword stood in the dirt. Guess I'd better bring that inside. If it rains, it'll rust. Too, he was missing the feeling of it from his hands. It was odd, going for even an hour without it at his side.
I'm not used to peace.
"Am... I disturbing you?"
It was Winry's voice. He glanced over his shoulder, and shook his head. "No."
She sat down next to him, and looked at the stars. He waited, while she gathered her courage.
"You said... The other side wasn't death. What do you mean?"
Guts took his time answering.
"I'm not sure."
Winry waited another minute. Finally, she broke the silence again. "You know how Al lost his body? And how Ed lost his limbs?"
"Not exactly. Maybe the same way I lost my leg. But... I came from the other side. And I'm alive."
Winry shook her head. "I don't know either. I have some ideas, but they won't tell me. And Ed just gets depressed when I ask. I stopped asking a long time ago. What is the other side? Other side of what, exactly?"
Guts hesitated. Persistent. Stubborn. Still, he didn't think it'd do any harm to tell her.
"It's... The man who sent me through, he said it was a gate between worlds."
"Worlds?" Winry got an incredulous look on her face.
"It might be, I don't know. Things are different here, though. The land, the people. The machines..."
"How so?"
"I never saw a train before I came here. People use small weapons that fire tiny cannonballs. There's no plague, or if there is it's nowhere near here. People have good teeth, and everyone bathes all the time. Lots of people read. Even FARMERS read." The words tumbled out of him, and he felt a tight knot in his chest. "There's land that hasn't seen fighting for decades. Decades." He was whispering.
Winry let him go on.
"There's no demons."
"Demons?"
"Or angels... they call themselves apostles. But they're not here and that's all that matters. Is that it? Is that why this place is better?"
Puck flapped his wings, impressed. This was the most he'd ever heard Guts say in a long time.
Guts shook his head.
"Anyway, there's a gate between my world and this one. And eyes and hands inside it. I had to give them part of myself to come through."
"Why did you come through?"
"Because she'd die if I didn't."
"She... The one you were asking about on the train?" He'd asked the question in every place there were people, that he'd traveled. It was automatic now.
"Yeah. Her name's Caska. And she's here somewhere. I'll find her."
Winry nodded. "I don't know... I don't know anything about other worlds. But I believe you."
"Thanks."
"Well. Get to bed soon, we've got a busy day tomorrow. I have some ideas, and we'll need to test them all..."
She went inside. He waited a few minutes longer, and Puck fluttered down to his shoulder.
"You've been pretty quiet, Elf."
Puck grinned. "It's just kind of interesting."
"What?"
"Watching you relax. You're actually a nice guy when you're not fighting for your life against impossible odds every few minutes. Boy, and here I was thinking you were an arrogant jerk all the time..."
Guts flicked him into the bushes.
THE NEXT DAY
"Argh!" Winry scowled, and put down the wrench. Though Pinako forbade further tree chopping, (And they were out of trees, anyway,) every time she had him swing that sword it put far too much stress on the leg's main piston. They'd gone through three major pistons so far, and at this rate all she'd have left were smaller tensors.
Guts shook his head. "Sorry."
"Do you REALLY need that thing? If you're going to fight, can't you use that metal arm of yours to punch people?"
"No."
"Fine, fine. Okay, let's take a break."
Winry collected her tools, as Pinako carried out a tray of lemonade and sandwiches. Guts thanked her, ate and drank his fill, then accepted the wood axe. He limped over to the ruined tree, and got to chopping, holding himself steady with his left arm.
Pinako carried the tray over to Winry, who pushed back her bandanna and took a ham sandwich. She chewed furiously, as she studied her latest blueprints.
"Still haven't cracked it?" Asked Pinako.
"What do you care?" The girl muttered, taking ferocious bites from her sandwich.
"I don't. I just thought I raised you smarter than that."
"Tch! It's impossible! With the torque hitting the leg at that angle, even a piston the size of the entire leg would give... And we need room for the gear train, and the cables... No, I'm just not seeing any way to do it. Not that would give him any kind of mobility."
"How does he swing his sword?" Asked Pinako.
"Well, he's skilled. He's VERY skilled with it. It's like he's been practicing with it his whole life, or something. And he's muscled like an ox... That's not all though, he distributes the weight through his whole body initially, then he kind of lets the sword swing itself. He just controls it with incredible arm strength..."
Winry trailed off.
She looked at Guts. She looked at him chopping wood, and holding the tree steady.
With his left arm.
His FALSE arm.
She slapped her forehead. "I'm an idiot! Sure, he's putting weight on his legs, but he's putting MORE on his arms! Thanks, grandma!"
Pinako smiled, and started toward the door. "Oh, don't thank me. I didn't help with this, after all." Winry frowned... For a second, she had heard a strange high-pitched laugh coming from Pinako's shoulder before the old woman went inside... Then she shrugged. Inspiration had struck, and she wasn't about to waste it!
Guts looked up, to see Winry practically charging him, wrench in hand and a gleam in her eye. He hastily stowed the axe, and started backing up.
"Ah..."
"Give me your arm!"
"...What?"
ONE HOUR LATER
Winry put down the metal sheath, her eyes aglow. Guts watched her, as she finished screwing the parts of the appendage back together.
"Find what you were looking for?" Asked Guts.
"I... I... This isn't automail. This is a work of art!"
"It's served me well." Said Guts. "I'm glad you cleaned it. I couldn't get that desert grit out of it."
"No, you don't understand! This was made with primitive tools. There are hammer marks on the casing. HAMMER-MARKS!"
"Well, yeah. Godo made it at his forge."
"There are no nerve-cables! There are weights and counter-weights, but you've got full mobility with rotation, and near-perfect control with your fingers! And all this is just from the way your upper arm moves, the arm's gears and pulleys move it in response... It's like it's a living thing!"
Guts nodded. "Yeah. Took some getting used to, but I learned it."
"And it's made of iron. IRON! Not fine steel, not stainless or worked, but just IRON!"
Winry sighed, and clutched her wrench to her chest, humming in happiness as she rocked back and forth. "And not only that, but it supplied the answer. Distributed load!"
"What?" Guts blinked.
"It doesn't use a central piston! It's got multiple piston-like levers! Any time you strain it, the pistons share the load among themselves! Instead of one big cylinder, you've got about twenty small ones, and so no one of them gets too much strain. This is ingenious..."
Guts flexed his hand, after he reattached it. Oblivious, Winry continued.
"Though I don't understand why you put a five-pound cannon in there. You're carrying around a bomb in your arm! Don't you know what that would DO to the arm if it blew up prematurely? Don't you know what kind of DAMAGE you could do to that wonderful piece of work?"
"Uh..." Guts felt a drop of sweat roll down his forehead, as she glared at him. "Much less his body, y'know?" Said Puck, grinning...
"Does this mean you can make a leg?" Guts asked.
Winry sighed. "Maybe. I don't know. I can't match the craftsmanship in that arm. And I can't make something to match it..."
Guts nodded. "I understand. You tried your best-"
"...So I'll make something better."
"What? I thought you just said..."
Winry grinned an evil grin. "I can't match the craftsmanship, true, but I can use better materials. And with proper nerve connections, you'll have full mobility of your toes... You won't need to move your leg to move them, like you have to move your arm to move your fingers, currently."
Guts leaned back.
He smiled.
"So, what do I have to do?"
FIVE DAYS LATER
The pain was intense. He'd turned down the offer of a leather strap to bite on, and was starting to regret it now. Pinako carried in bowls of hot water, as Winry slid the bundles of copper wire beneath his skin, and clamped the socket in place.
He didn't let the pain show on his face. He'd had worse.
Finally, it was done.
And he flexed his right leg's toes, for the first time in days. He smiled. Winry smiled back.
"Now, you'll have to take it easy for a few weeks-hey!"
Guts slid down off the table. He nearly buckled as he hit the floor, but caught himself, and pulled himself up...
"What are you doing! Don't move... get off... sit down, dammit!"
Guts took a few experimental steps. Then he took a few more.
Then he moved over to where his sword lay across a sturdy bench, and picked it up.
Winry was yelling, and hitting him on the back to no effect.
"YOU IDIOT! Do you want permanent nerve damage? Are you really stupid enough to risk losing your WHOLE leg?"
Guts moved outside, walking with more confidence as he gripped the sword. He moved toward the stump of the tree.
Pinako smiled, and put her hand on Winry's shoulder as the girl glared daggers at Guts' back.
"That stubborn, idiotic, insensible MAN! Oooh..."
Pinako chuckled. "Might as well let him go. Trust me, I've had experience dealing with stubborn young folks."
Guts pulled his sword back.
And he swung.
The top of the tree trunk flipped into the air.
It fell a good fifty feet away.
And his new lower-leg held firm, the multiple pistons ratcheting into place and back, as they absorbed the shock.
He said not a word, sliding the sword back into its sheath.
He looked at Winry.
Winry glared back.
"Thanks." He said.
He dug out his pouch, and walked up to the Rockbells, as he dumped gold coin after gold coin into his hand.
Winry's eyes bugged out.
Pinako put her hand over his, and shook her head. "Nope."
"Take it."
"Nope."
"It's good work."
"You already paid for it."
"Impossible."
Pinako pointed, with her long-stemmed pipe.
Guts followed the pipe, and ended up staring at the neat pile of firewood by the shed.
He closed his eye. "That's nowhere near enough to..."
"I think I know the price of my own firewood. And that was a damn good tree." Pinako smiled.
Guts shook his head. "I guess you got me beat."
The old woman "Hmph'd", and Winry sighed as the gold vanished back into his pouch.
"Thanks." He repeated, and shook Winry's hand. She smiled back. "If you see Ed and Al again..."
"I'll tell them you said hi."
"Forget that! Just tell Ed not to abuse my work. And for that matter, you better treat that leg right, too!"
He nodded. "Fair enough."
And with that, he turned and started the long walk back to the "Train". Winry had told him of a big city called "Eastern" a few days down, and that seemed like a good place to look.
Pinako watched him go, puffing on her pipe. Winry watched him go, with tears in her eyes.
Pinako glanced up at her, and quirked her lips.
"It's just so... so romantic! He's going to keep on going until he finds her, and nothing will stop him. Nothing! That's how much he loves her..." Winry bubbled, tears rolling down her face.
Pinako grunted.
"Come on, romance or no, you've got a dirty machine shop to clean up. Time's wasting."
Winry nodded, and headed inside.
Pinako stayed behind, and watched as the black-cloaked man walked down the road, whole once more. She sighed.
"If I were a few years younger... Ah well."
"Good luck, Guts."
Pinako blinked.
For just a moment, she'd thought she saw something small and green grinning at her from the roof... She took off her spectacles, and cleaned them, and it was gone by the time she'd replaced them.
"Getting too old for this."
And the little woman shut the door behind her.