Chapter Two: Finished

David finishes Charlotte. (PG-15)

My plan to make an arm for David was flawed in one major point: he was the inventor, not me. I had no idea how to make synthetic limbs. When I asked him to teach me he shook his head. “Hope you need to learn many things before you can create a person.” I believe he thought I wanted a child. “First you must study biology then engineering, mathematics, chemistry…. It is not as simple as just shoving parts together. I will give you these books and if you still want to learn after you read them, I will teach you.”

He handed me four books; two on biology, one on engineering, and one of his own work journals.

“You will probably need the first three to understand the fourth. It details how I made your skeleton and the processes by which I learned what was best.” He gave me one of his rare smiles. “My brilliant Hope, already on the path to surpassing me.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Go, read, learn something. I have work to do.”

I started with the journal because my maker had written it, but he was right and I didn’t understand any of it. Not even the pictures made sense, so I started with the easier of the two biology books. I was still reading at two in the morning when David walked past my door with a murmur of “Goodnight Hope,” and went to bed.

 

For the next two months I saw very little of my maker. He was always busy with his patients or his new inventions and had no time for me. As winter had ended I had been his pride and joy, as spring began he didn’t seem to remember I existed.

The books he had given me proved too complex for me to understand. The first biology book was not so difficult, but the second one was much harder and the book on engineering went over my head altogether. While I stared at the pictures in my maker’s journal every night before I ‘slept,’ I was still no closer to unlocking the meanings of them.

When Eliza Watling came to call on me she helped me as much as she could, though she scarcely knew more than me. Sometimes Dr. Watling would help me as well, though he spent most of his time with my maker. 

I wondered if I was defective and needed to tell my maker that there was something wrong with me. I was supposed to be perfect, didn’t that mean that I should understand all of this? It was frustrating to not understand it all right away, or even after hours of reading the same thing over and over. I couldn’t be defective because that would mean David had made a mistake in making me, so maybe I was just stupid.

That was hardly a comforting thought.

I wanted to go ask him to explain the infernal books to me but I would be an unwelcome distraction. He had work to do; he didn’t have time to explain science to a stupid non-human. I had seen how he reacted to those who disturbed him at his work. I didn’t want my maker to be angry with me.

For two months I tried to understand the books and avoided most people as though they had the bubonic plague. While I wanted very much to be with my maker, I didn’t want him to find out that I had made so little progress in my studies. I simply avoided him as well, not that I needed to since he was already too busy to see me.

In a particularly strong fit of anger at my own incompetence I threw the books into the fireplace. I stared with rapt attention as the flames started to devour the edges. It was so beautiful, this fire, like my hair. The bindings on the engineering book popped and threw me into a panic. I grabbed the books out of the fire and used my blanket to smother all of the sparks.

When I saw how badly damaged the journal was I started having the strangest reaction. My head and chest hurt, my eyes felt as if they were being pushed out of my head, my heartbeat sped up, and I started breathing heavily. It reminded me of when I saw humans cry.

The journal was still readable, but it would never be the same. I tucked it under my pillow and put the other books back onto the shelf. I knew I shouldn’t have tried to burn them, and tomorrow I would try once again to decipher them, but for now I wanted nothing to do with the science that had created me.

 

I decided I would go out and take food to the young mother. It was too easy to get into the kitchen and take a few bread rolls, some milk, and fresh vegetables then climb out my bedroom window. Last time the woman had been on Hoard Street so I headed that way without a detour to the bridge. 

The woman was asleep when I got to her home under the stairs, and I did not want to wake her. I left the basket of food and a little money tucked under the stairs where only she would see it. I crouched there watching her and her children for God knows how long and the baby started to stir when I stood.

I picked up the fussing infant and held it to my chest. He nuzzled my top, latched onto one of my bows, and started to suck. I got a strange feeling, almost like regret, as I held the child. Thankfully I didn’t feel it for long because the baby started to scream as soon as it figured out there would be no milk from me. The mother woke up in a panic but when she saw it was me, and that I was trying to comfort the baby, she calmed and took him to feed.

I told her about the basket and walked away, worried about the spreading dull ache in my chest. I hadn’t damaged myself had I? I would never be able to explain myself to David.

The ache subsided quickly as I walked home, so whatever it was must have worked itself out. I was three streets from home when a hand reached out and grabbed me, then another clamped over my mouth.

I panicked and struggled, and another pair of arms joined the first. Then a third came to hold me and I could hardly move. My first fear was the priest from Spain had followed me, then I heard Cockney accents and realized that at least they were Englishmen.

“W’hoz such a pretty thing l’you doin’ out so late a night?” The first man asked, his moist breath right on my ear.

“Who cares why she’s out, she is, innit she? So lets all ‘ave some fun.” The men guffawed and pulled me into an alley. The one who hadn’t spoken yet pulled off my bonnet, the second speaker, my coat.

“Such a pretty thing. We thank ye for ent’rtaning us tonight.” The third man ripped my bodice and I was damned glad that it wasn’t the blue velvet one. I started struggling again now that only one was holding me, but then the second grabbed me as well.

The remaining one, who had ripped my top, shoved it off of my shoulders where another twisted it and tied it to hold me arms. Then the man pulled out a knife and pulled it gently across my check, down my throat, and then sawed through the laces of my corset.

Another pulled that off and tossed it to the ground and I renewed me struggles, frightened by the sight of the knife. The man with it used it to loosen my skirt enough that it fell to the ground, my crinolines with it.

I was standing there in my ripped chemise and pantalets, a knife to my throat, when David shot one man in the back of the head.

The men jumped when they heard the shot and the one who had first grabbed me ran at my maker. David shot him in the forehead. The last still held a knife against my throat so I reached out and grabbed him by his. He was shocked by the strength of my hand and didn’t put up much of a fight. He too ended his life with a bullet through his brain.

Never before had I seen my maker so angry. His eyes were narrowed and his mouth set in a tight line, his grip on the gun so strong that his knuckles were white. I almost expected him to fire a shot off at me, though he decided not to. “Charlotte,” he ground out through a clenched jaw. “Go home. Now. Go into your room and do not leave until I tell you to. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Maker.” I did exactly as he said, not even stopping to pick up the tattered remnants of my clothes from the street. I went right into my room and sat on my bed, watching the clock for three hours. When there was finally a knock on my door it wasn’t David, but a constable come to ask me about the events of the night.

A less honest man would have hidden the bodies and been done with it. My maker reported the killings as justified and I had to corroborate. For the next hour I endured endless questions and conjecture: David had told them I had been kidnapped, not that I was wandering the streets, but there was no evidence to suggest it. They chalked it up to premeditation.

After the constable had gone Bess brought in my breakfast and dressed me for the day. She tried to comfort me after the ‘ordeal’ I had been through, but she couldn’t possibly understand what was really bothering me. I knew what those men had planned to do. That was nothing compared to how angry my maker had been.

David did not summon me at all that day, and the next he canceled our planned dinner with the Watlings. It wasn’t until four days after my little escapade that he called me into his workshop… and dismissed all of the servants for the week.

Was he planning to disassemble me? It would be the perfect punishment and the perfect explanation as to why he got rid of the servants. As I stood in the open doorway to his workshop I was more frightened than when he had been pointing the gun at me.

But he had not created me to be a coward so I squared my shoulders and walked in with my head high. Of course when he looked at me my resolve crumbled and I wanted nothing more than to throw myself at his feet. There was a spark of the anger from that night, but the prevailing emotion in his eyes was disappointment.

I felt wretched, as is someone were twisting my inner workings and trying to push them through my skin. I dropped to the ground in front of him and pressed my forehead to his shin bone. “I am so very, very sorry. I never imagined that it would be so bad. I swear I will never do it again.” I wasn’t sure if I was promising to never sneak out again, or promising to never disappoint him again.

“Why did you go out Hopee? I told you it was dangerous to be out alone, for you more than anyone.” He sounded exhausted and sad. The anger was gone when I looked up into his eyes. “Did you think I was lying to you simply to keep you confined?”

“I was bored. I wanted to go out and see London rather than staying inside all of the time. You have things to keep you occupied, your inventions, your books, your patents, your friends. You have a life outside of this house; I wanted to have one as well.”

“I was not trying to keep you locked up! It is a dangerous world out there and I couldn’t let you wander around where you might be discovered. The world is not ready for you. I told you that once you were finished I would take you out. In the mean time I gave you books to read, as you had given me the impression that you would like to learn to do what I do.”

“But it has been two months and I am still not finished, and I can hardly understand the books.”

“If you did not understand then you should have come to me and asked. As f-“

“You were busy and I couldn’t disturb you. You would have been angry.”

My maker pulled back from me a little and then crouched down at my level. There was compassion in those brown eyes, but sadness as well and I got the impression I had somehow disappointed him again. “Hope you could have come to me. You would not have been a disturbance. I would have enjoyed the company: I created you to be my companion. If I didn’t want you to be around me, I wouldn’t have made you. I had actually thought you were mad at me for not completing you, or for what happened in Spain, and that was why you were staying away.”

“No! Not at all, I only thought you wouldn’t want me to bother you when you were working. I am not mad at you.”

“I was working on you,” He stood and held out his hand. “Come see. I just finished, and now I can finally put you together.”

He pulled me to my feet and led me around the tables. “I will be redoing your skin, this is much more life-like and it supports the nerves I created for you. That is why I dismissed the servants for a week. I believe I programmed the nerves so that you won’t feel pain as strongly as a human does, but you will still feel it. Pain is useful.”

“Pain is debilitating, not useful. I understand if it’s a tradeoff for being able to feel, but if you can be rid of pain entirely then why don’t you?”

“Believe it or not you do need pain. It tells you when you’re being damaged and where. And it allows you to have a more human experience. If you’re being burned then you will feel it and be able to stop the burning before the damage is too severe.”

Put that way I understood it. “But I won’t become nonfunctional because of the pain?”

“Not because of the pain, though if it were that severe in a human it would probably stem from damage that would render you nonfunctional. You need to be just as careful as a human Hope.” He pulled me to the next table. “I redid your eyes as well. I think I may have accidentally caused you to see a higher concentration of blue instead of an equal concentration of blue, red, and yellow. That must be corrected.

“And this is perhaps the most important update. I believe that if I implant this into your brain then you will be able to feel emotions to the full extent that a human can. You are muted now, but you won’t be after this.” The piece was a little smaller than the palm of my hand and was made of solid gold. There were etchings I couldn’t read and a few wires coming off of it.

“I also have created a stomach for you. You won’t be able to subsist on food, but you will be able to eat in public, and you can taste it as well. And it will come out in the same manner as in a human, so watch for that.”

My maker guided me to the main worktable where he would make his alterations to me. “I will have to shut you down to implant this new piece into your brain but you can be awake for the rest of it if you would like.”

“Yes please, I want to learn how it all goes.” I slipped out of my clothes, climbed onto the table, and laid down. My make brought over a blanket to cover me with.

“I have asked Dr. Watling to help me put your new skin on. I could do it alone but with my deformity it would take more time then we have.”

“You aren’t deformed. Don’t say that, I hate it when you say that.”

He ran his fingers through my hair, “Sweet Hope. Leave your eyes open when I turn you off. It will be easier for me to transplant the new ones if you do.”

He must have already turned me off because I felt the energy leaving my body. My hearing went first, and as my sight dimmed I watched David still running his fingers through my hair. He was smiling.

 

When I woke up everything looked different. Before there had been a great deal more blue in my world and now other colors were just as vibrant. It was nothing I would have ever noticed without my maker correcting it, but I was very glad he had. Everything was more beautiful now.

That was another major change; everything felt more intense. I had a greater appreciation for the beauty of the colors, for my maker for fixing the problem… and I had an almost unimaginable longing for David. When he walked in front of me I felt a level joy and relief I never had before, as well as some amusement for my strong reaction. Was this what it was like to be human? Did Eliza feel this way, did Bess?

“How do you feel Hope?” My maker’s voice sounded much clearer in my ears and I had never been happier to hear it.

“I feel wonderful and strange.”

“It will take some time for you to get used to the adjustments. After a few days you’ll come back down from this euphoric high. Then you will feel things on the level a human does. I had to go a little stronger at first, just to make it stick properly.” He sounded amused. He probably knew what I was feeling, and how much I was feeling it.

“What you’re feeling now is similar to how a human feels when drugs give them an endorphin high, or when they drink spirits. Neither are things you will ever be able to do so remember how this feels.” I raised my hand to look at it through my new eyes and was amazed to see that my maker had already stripped off my skin.

“I was turned off longer than I had guessed.”

“Yes, well, I thought it would be better to remove your skin while you were. It was a disturbing process actually, even though it wasn’t real skin and there was no blood. Now I am going to give you a stomach so that you will be able to eat in front of humans.”

“Eliza had mentioned to me that it was strange for me to not eat. She said it would tip people off that something was different about me.” I could feel him opening my ribcage and plucking at wires. He didn’t speak as he worked but I was giddy and babbled. “When is Dr. Watling coming? Eliza will come too I’m sure. Oh dear, so many people to see me naked.”

David snorted at that. “Dearest I don’t think they’ll be looking.” He slid my stomach into place with a snick and began to meld the wires together. He worked and I blathered for forty-five minutes until there was a loud knock on the door and Dr. Watling came in.

“How are you progressing David?” He dropped a bag onto one of the tables next to me and leaned over to see what my maker was doing.

“I have one more wire on her stomach and then we can apply her new skin. Now Hope,” I greatly preferred him addressing me to anyone else. “This is just a test. Only one of the main nerves will be grafted in all the way, the others will not be. That way we can be certain of how well they will work before we do everything.

“Obviously if it is successful in your dorsal column then we will graft the nerves into all of the major areas and they will be fully functional. This process will take several days and it is very complicated. If you are unable to hold still then I will have to turn you off again.”

“I understand. Please, start, I want to be finished.”

 I will never be able to explain the process by which the two doctors put on my skin. It was somewhat like sewing, somewhat like spreading wax over a surface. I could not have seams and my skin needed to be able to move with my bones. As my maker explained what to do to Dr. Watling I saw the realization come over the man of just how brilliant my maker was.

It was not as simple as laying skin; there was also the matter of my nerves. My maker explained to me “The wires must be applied with minimal heat so that they aren’t damaged. The hardest part of this will be attaching them to your spine, which is hotter than the rest of your body. If I do not put them in exactly right they’ll melt.”

They worked carefully and I lay as still as possible, moving only when they needed me to change positions. My stillness was not something any human could have ever accomplished. David stood in front of me, applying the new skin to my face with his tongue just peeking out from between his lips as he worked on mine. He was meticulous in making sure I was perfect. In the end that was the final measure of his success; my perfection.

Two days in I was fully covered and they began to attach nerves. Until they attached my first major nerve into my spine, I didn’t feel anything. Once they did a searing pain shot up my back and then all through the rest of my body. I screamed and tried to pull away, it was like nothing I could have ever imagined. Every part of me was crying out for the pain to be gone and I didn’t understand what had caused it.

Everything faded abruptly and when I woke up again I knew I had been turned off. “Hope? Can you hear me?”  My maker sounded so frightened it made me ache. My head felt sluggish so it took me a little while to answer.

“I can hear you. What happened?”

“My hand slipped and the wires went too far. It melted and that caused the pain you felt.” He paused for a moment. “I’m sorry that the first thing you felt was pain. What are you feeling now?”

Again it took me a moment to process. “I… I feel everything.” It was amazing. I could feel the softness of the flannel blanket sliding against my bare skin. I could feel the grain of the wood table I was laying on. The air was cool and I rubbed my hands against my arms to warm up. My skin was even softer than the blanket, and so warm. “This is remarkable.”

“So it worked,” I think my maker was just as amazed as me.

“Thank you, Maker. Thank you so much.” I sat up and slung my legs over the edge of the table. The wood was rough and scratched against my thighs.

“David,” Although he corrected me he smiled. “I’m glad that you enjoy this Hope.” He raised his hand and caressed my cheek. The sensation exploded in soft-warm-rough and I wondered how many things had contradicting textures. I hummed contentedly and leaned into his hand.

 “I could get used to this. You can’t imagine David, what this is like.” He chuckled, wrapped his arm around my waist, and pulled me off the table.

“Can anyone? Get dressed dearest, the servants will be back tomorrow and you need to learn how to not act strange when you feel new things.” I must have looked surprised, because he laughed and explained. “Yes it took that long. There were a few unanticipated issues.”

I pulled on my house dress, glad I didn’t have to deal with a corset. The satin was amazing and I simply stood there stroking it until David took my hand and pulled me out of the room.

I ran my free hand along everything I could reach. The handrail of the stairs was smooth and cool, the knobs of the doors were similar but much harder. My feet sank into the plush Persian rug in the sitting room and I wondered if the velvet couch was what had inspired my skin.

David watched, amused, as I danced around the house memorizing the textures of everything in it. Though all hard, glass was different from metal, metal was different from wood, wood was different from stone. No two fabrics felt the same either. None of it felt as wonderful as David’s skin.

I couldn’t go long without running back to him and grabbing his hand to pull him into another room, or throwing my arms around his neck. I was giddy and excited and so happy….

Perhaps I mistook the look on his face for another, or perhaps I mistook our relationship. I had seen Dr. Watling give Eliza that look and I had seen her respond with a kiss. When David snaked his arm around me and braced his half-arm against my back, I saw that look and I reached up to press my lips to his.

For just a moment I could have sworn he kissed me back, but he pulled away so quickly I could not truly tell. “Charlotte!” He did not leave me entirely, but he moved from embracing me to holding me in place with his one hand. “What… do you know what you did?”

If there was anything worse than him yelling at me, it was him thinking I didn’t even understand what I had done. “I kissed you. I suppose I was mistaken, I thought you would welcome it.”

“Why would you think that?” Rarely had I ever seen my maker look confused but I knew he was now.

“It was the look on your face.” His expression only became more confused. I pulled away from him and hurried to my room. I heard him calling for me as I climbed the stairs, and he was following me by the time I shut my door.

It was all very well and good to feel emotions when you understood them, as I could not yet do. What was this dreadful feeling pulsing through me? Disappointment, yes, but it went further than that. Hurt and maybe embarrassment as well?

“Hope please open the door. I am not angry with you dearest. Please open the door.” I couldn’t, I simply couldn’t open the door. I sat down with my back to it and watched the clock.

One hour. Two hours. Then three. Still he was outside my door, pleading with me. That was how the servants found us when they came in, both of us sitting with our backs to my door. I don’t know what he told them but Bess was very sympathetic when she brought me my breakfast.

“Don’t take it to heart Miss Charlotte. All couples fight, even the ones that stay married for all their lives. My husband and I fight often, but I love him more now than when we were married.”

I smiled as I watched the blonde woman bustle around to neaten up my room. “I don’t think he wants to marry me.”

“If the good doctor didn’t want to marry you then you would not be in this house about to marry him.” I couldn’t tell her why he was marrying me. I couldn’t tell her that I wasn’t even human, though I so badly wanted to. Perhaps Eliza would offer better advice since she knew my situation.

“Bess I would like to call on Mrs. Watling for tea. Please make the necessary preparations. And I would like to wear my rose silk tea dress.”

“Right away ma’am. And that’s the spirit too, not staying here to dwell on your fight."

Author's Note

Quite a different feel from chapter one. And chapter three feels different from them both. Things do move kind of fast in my books. I like for there to be action almost constantly. There are lulls where it's essentially fluff that explores who the characters are, but mostly they are going forward and living their lived. So to speak.

Reviews

[Dark and Mysterious]

You've got me hooked. I'm dying to know what happens next. Great write. Keep me updated :)