9
Much to Edward's delight, Greta made many visits up to the castle in the weeks to come. Sometimes she could only visit one time a week. Sometimes, she could visit almost every evening. It largely depended on how convincing her ruse was. Thankfully, her parents did not possess whatever genes of brilliance Greta shared with her great-uncle. And thus, they remained completely unaware of what she was up to, or where she was always running off to in the late hours of the day.
One night, Greta was examining all of the machines in the laboratory section of the Castle. Sticking a pen in her mouth, she reached out to touch and inspect all of the mechanical parts, jotting down notes as she went along. She certainly looked the part of an engineering prodigy; eager to know all of these inner workings as intimately as she could, so that one day, she too could create beautiful things in their image.
Of course, she could never hope to dream of making someone like Edward. That clearly required far more skill than she was capable of. She was mostly certain of that.
Edward was watching her with great interest of his own. The mere presence of another living person within the castle was fascinating enough to him. He never once complained when she would grow silent during her observations. While Edward enjoyed being her attentive listener, he understood perhaps better than anyone that words were not always necessary.
"You said you got these machines to work before, Edward?" Greta suddenly asked, breaking the disquieting silence. Her voice echoed and receded several times within the large, stone chamber.
Edward gave a nod of his head.
"Yes…but…. I think I broke it..." He responded in a small, sad little voice.
"I see…" Greta replied with a small frown.
Crouching down to examine the underside of the conveyor belt, a small metal object suddenly caught her attention. Had it not been for the strange place in which it had been, she might not have noticed it at all. But Greta found that a large coil of wire had been lodged within the gears which made the entire line run.
"Wait…." She observed out loud. She briefly examined her pockets, only to find that she had left most of her tools at home.
As an idea suddenly flashed into her mind, Greta hesitantly gave Edward a small, sheepish look.
"Um…Edward? Could you come here for a moment please?" She asked as politely as she could.
Edward obediently shuffled towards her, crouching down to meet her at eye level.
"You see that there?" Greta said as she pointed to the coiled mess of wire caught in the conveyor belt gears.
Edward nodded.
"Could you cut that loose for me?" Greta asked. She hoped that she wasn't coming across as rude, and would very well understand if Edward refused. He wasn't a tool, after all.
However, compliantly, Edward reached up and with a snip of his sharp blades, cut the tangled wires, causing them to fall from the machine and onto the dust-covered floor below.
"Thank you!" Greta exclaimed with a smile. Edward affectionately coped it.
"Now…if I could just find the switch…." Greta pondered out loud as her eyes scanned the great machine before her.
"…um…" Edward said softly, drawing Greta's gaze to him. He pointed with a long, metal talon towards the start of the conveyor belt.
"Oh, of course!" Greta exclaimed before leaning down and pressing on the small, red button.
Standing up to her feet and returning to Edward's side, the two of them watched the large machines in front of them with great anticipation.
Sure enough, with a loud clattering sound, the entire factory was up and running again. The working parts and metallic structures all moving and working together fiercely in a choreographed dance of wires and gears.
Greta laughed in amazement and clasped her hands together in front of her chin liked an excited school girl. Edward was not quite as delighted, having seen all of these machines work before. But he was nonetheless proud of their combined efforts to resurrect his father's machines once more.
Edward gave a proud little smile, one which Greta copied affectionately.
A little while later, Edward was watching the machines whir and buzz like they had when his father was alive. It was a welcome sight to see; one which brought back many fond memories.
Seeing this, Edward could almost pretend that he was new again. How he longed to return to those early times when life was so precious and simple. When the castle had been his one and only world. And his days spent being read to by his creator while basking in warm sunlight by a drafty window.
Edward felt a sudden, sharp pain in his left arm and gasped in surprise.
He looked down to find that while he had been so carelessly daydreaming of the past, he had stumbled just a little too close to one of his father's old machines. And in doing so, had been stabbed by a large pair of steel scissors that were attached to the large apparatus.
Had his injury not been so severe, he might have appreciated the irony of the situation. However, he couldn't quite feel his arm anymore. And a dark liquid was dripping out of the large gash in the leather. It wasn't red like blood, however. This was something else.
Edward looked around frantically for Greta as his vision began to blur and his heart thumped at a dangerous pace.
"G…Greta? Greta?" He called out into the dark of the castle but heard only his own voice echoing back towards him.
Greta was jotting down an equation she had found in one of the Inventor's old books, which had been stashed away in another room of the castle. The motion of her pen stopped abruptly however when she could just barely discern the sound of Edward's voice calling out to her.
He had never done this before. Something was wrong.
Greta turned around and rushed outside of the room back into the main chamber.
She found Edward sitting on the floor, clutching his arm and in doing so, only causing more injury to it. Around him was a small pool of thick, black liquid which was pulsating out of his arm. Edward looked up at Greta with an expression full of guilt and fear.
"Oh my god! Edward! What happened?!" Greta exclaimed as she knelt down to examine him.
"I-I…. hurt myself…" He said. His voice was barely a whisper.
Greta inspected the large wound in his arm. Whatever was coming out of him, it definitely wasn't blood. However, this was not necessarily a relief. Edward's biology was certainly much different than her own.
She needed to fix him. Though she wasn't sure if she could, she would at least pretend to know how, if only to reassure Edward for the time being.
"It's gonna be all right, Edward…I'll help you up. Here…" She reached down, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and placing her other hand on his belt, she gently hoisted him up to his feet.
Her eyes scanning the room quickly, Greta saw her great-uncle's work table and walked Edward over to it, being careful not to injure him further.
"Now I'm going to put you down on this table…. ready?" Greta asked gently.
Edward nodded.
"One…two…. three!" Their strengths combined, Edward managed to fall down onto the table, facing upwards. A wave of nostalgia crashed over him as he suddenly recalled lying at this table in a very similar way for many days when he was new.
Even at this critical moment, he was still thinking about the past. Always looking behind, but never forward.
"Did that hurt?" Greta asked as she brushed her hair out of her face, looking down at Edward in concern.
Edward shook his head. Fortunately, shock had numbed most of his pain away.
Greta ran over to her bag which was laying on the Inventor's desk. She reached into it and pulled out some of the books she had been taking notes on. Setting them down beside Edward, she flipped through them furiously.
She could fix Edward if she could figure out what he was made out of. That precious information had to be somewhere in one of these books.
"I'm sorry, Edward…I know it was in here somewhere…. I'm hurrying…. just…. just sit tight." She talked to him in the most reassuring voice she could manage.
At last, she found it. The notes which explained in great detail how her great-uncle had sutured Edward together. How he had laid scraps of leather over top of metallic limbs and gears and bound them together with wires and straps.
And most importantly, it detailed the formula for the elusive dark liquid which gave power to the internal gears and metal organs beneath his leathery flesh.
She had everything she needed now. She could do this.
Of course, she had little choice.
"There. Okay…." After hastily tying her hair back into a messy ponytail, Greta examined the desk, leaving no space unsearched. She gathered straps of belted leather in her arms, along with metal buckles and pieces of wire. And in addition to those, was a long spool of sturdy thread and a sewing needle.
Within one of the lower compartments of the desk, Greta found a small canister with no name that was covered in dust. But upon twisting the rusted lid open, she could see the liquid inside did indeed match what had spilled out of Edward's arm.
Setting the materials down beside him, Greta quickly got to work. However, it was a clumsy first effort. And she could barely stop her hands from shaking. She failed a couple of times to correctly bind his wound and sighed loudly in frustration.
His physiology was so different than hers, she may as well have been administering to a being from another planet entirely.
No. Greta firmly said to herself.
Edward was not that different. He had organs. He had skin. They just didn't look like hers.
She suddenly remembered her great-uncle's notes with vivid recollection.
The materials are unconventional, but the technique remains the same.
Greta took a deep breath. Edward watched her intently.
"You're going to be okay, Edward," Greta repeated softly. But this time, she knew that it was true.
As she began to calm herself in the patterns of the work, Greta carefully poured the dark liquid into the wound, restoring the gears and metal cogs beneath it. She then attached a generous layer of leather to his arm and then proceeded to sew it to him with the needle and thread with great care and caution.
"Almost done, Edward," Greta said out loud.
Taking a knife on from the desk, she quickly cut the loose thread and examined the arm closely one last time. The arm appeared to be fixed. Greta sighed gently in relief.
"There. Just like new." She said with a smile.
Edward looked down at his arm and moved it slowly up and down, finding to his reprieve that he could feel it again. He looked up at Greta and smiled.
"Thank you." He said.
"You're welcome," Greta replied, still shaking but sighing in relief.