something special on for you. We’ve got to keep out of the way.”
“For me?”
“She likes you. We all do.”
“Thanks. Tell you what -”
“Yes?”
“May I have another look at the machine? Please,” Josh added, remembering his manners.
Alfred did a low, courtly bow. “Your wish is my command.”
They sneaked upstairs like kids playing truant. Alfred chuckled as he unlocked the door. “You see to the knight. The dragon’s getting rusty.”
Throwing Josh a chamois leather, he busied himself with a can of oil. Coating his fingers, he applied it to the automaton’s plated back. He rubbed her down, humming as he worked. Engrossed as he was, he didn’t forget Josh; he asked about the demos, laughed about the people he’d seen. “Never got on with eggheads. Take themselves far too seriously.”
Josh dusted the knight. “How long have you been working on this?”
Alfred considered.“Two years, five months, ten days.”
“It must mean a lot to you.”
“On a good day, yes. It bucks me up when it’s going well.”
“On a bad day?”
“Can’t stand the sight of it. Sometimes I don’t touch it for months.”
“Maybe you’re too critical.”
“Says the lad whose hair caught fire!”
Josh mimed spraying him with a canister. “Naughty!”
“Could’ve done with that then, that’s for sure.”
Within the hour it was scarcely recognisable. The knight challenged, mace in hand; the vine leaves twined. And of course the dragon, ruby eyes squinting down her long snout. Alfred patted her fondly. “It’s a bugger, but it’s the best thing I’ve done.”
“Have you never given it a name?”
“Machines don’t need names.” He knuckled his eyes. “Sorry.”
“I’m not offended.” Picking a name from the book he was reading, “Swanhilda?
“Ugh! Thingummy’ll do.”
“Can I have another go?”
Alfred’s eyes returned to his arm. “Are you sure?”
“I can feel it mending.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn him,” he confided in the dragon. Josh giggled. “You’re out of your tree.”
The Thingummy thrummed into life. They took everything it chucked at them. The knight tipped over, legs spinning. The vines slipped through their fingers; they ducked the nooses. When the dragon gave her hot, tarry roar, Alfred whipped a throw from the sofa and smothered it. They landed on the polar bear skin, out of breath.
“Three minutes ten,” Alfred panted. “Must be a record.”
Josh felt his clockwork buzz beneath his ribs. Glancing at Alfred, sweaty and elated, he contrasted him with the brusque, angry man of four weeks ago. How much had changed!
“Why don’t you patent Thingummy? It’s better than the boring gyms humans use.”
“ I’ve got one of those boring gyms,” Alfred said. “I like having something that’s just mine, if you see what I mean.”
“I do.” It was how Josh felt about his visits to Chimera.
The door nosed open. “’Lo, Grizzly.” Gwyn didn’t acknowledge Josh. “Nanny says it’s ready. Wants us to dress up.”
“Must we?” Alfred groaned.
“You can’t be a hermit forever.”
“I’ll be down in fifteen. Can you show Josh the best guest room?”
Josh didn’t want to get up but knew a dismissal when he heard one. He followed Gwyn into the hall. He amused himself by looking at the portraits, particularly one of Alfred in a ceremonial skirt and a hat with feathers.
“Here,” she said, showing him through a door.
The room beyond was wonderful: based around a turret, it was dove tinted with a sea green four poster, a rocking chair and a wardrobe with the sun, moon and planets painted on it.
“Oh, I like this!”
“He thought you would. See you in the Function Room.” She vanished without further ado.
Josh opened the wardrobe, expecting the launch suit. While it was there, in all its glorious parts, there were a further three, ones he recognised from the shop. A gong sounded. Careful not to budge his bandage, he unhooked a cream
“For me?”
“She likes you. We all do.”
“Thanks. Tell you what -”
“Yes?”
“May I have another look at the machine? Please,” Josh added, remembering his manners.
Alfred did a low, courtly bow. “Your wish is my command.”
They sneaked upstairs like kids playing truant. Alfred chuckled as he unlocked the door. “You see to the knight. The dragon’s getting rusty.”
Throwing Josh a chamois leather, he busied himself with a can of oil. Coating his fingers, he applied it to the automaton’s plated back. He rubbed her down, humming as he worked. Engrossed as he was, he didn’t forget Josh; he asked about the demos, laughed about the people he’d seen. “Never got on with eggheads. Take themselves far too seriously.”
Josh dusted the knight. “How long have you been working on this?”
Alfred considered.“Two years, five months, ten days.”
“It must mean a lot to you.”
“On a good day, yes. It bucks me up when it’s going well.”
“On a bad day?”
“Can’t stand the sight of it. Sometimes I don’t touch it for months.”
“Maybe you’re too critical.”
“Says the lad whose hair caught fire!”
Josh mimed spraying him with a canister. “Naughty!”
“Could’ve done with that then, that’s for sure.”
Within the hour it was scarcely recognisable. The knight challenged, mace in hand; the vine leaves twined. And of course the dragon, ruby eyes squinting down her long snout. Alfred patted her fondly. “It’s a bugger, but it’s the best thing I’ve done.”
“Have you never given it a name?”
“Machines don’t need names.” He knuckled his eyes. “Sorry.”
“I’m not offended.” Picking a name from the book he was reading, “Swanhilda?
“Ugh! Thingummy’ll do.”
“Can I have another go?”
Alfred’s eyes returned to his arm. “Are you sure?”
“I can feel it mending.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn him,” he confided in the dragon. Josh giggled. “You’re out of your tree.”
The Thingummy thrummed into life. They took everything it chucked at them. The knight tipped over, legs spinning. The vines slipped through their fingers; they ducked the nooses. When the dragon gave her hot, tarry roar, Alfred whipped a throw from the sofa and smothered it. They landed on the polar bear skin, out of breath.
“Three minutes ten,” Alfred panted. “Must be a record.”
Josh felt his clockwork buzz beneath his ribs. Glancing at Alfred, sweaty and elated, he contrasted him with the brusque, angry man of four weeks ago. How much had changed!
“Why don’t you patent Thingummy? It’s better than the boring gyms humans use.”
“ I’ve got one of those boring gyms,” Alfred said. “I like having something that’s just mine, if you see what I mean.”
“I do.” It was how Josh felt about his visits to Chimera.
The door nosed open. “’Lo, Grizzly.” Gwyn didn’t acknowledge Josh. “Nanny says it’s ready. Wants us to dress up.”
“Must we?” Alfred groaned.
“You can’t be a hermit forever.”
“I’ll be down in fifteen. Can you show Josh the best guest room?”
Josh didn’t want to get up but knew a dismissal when he heard one. He followed Gwyn into the hall. He amused himself by looking at the portraits, particularly one of Alfred in a ceremonial skirt and a hat with feathers.
“Here,” she said, showing him through a door.
The room beyond was wonderful: based around a turret, it was dove tinted with a sea green four poster, a rocking chair and a wardrobe with the sun, moon and planets painted on it.
“Oh, I like this!”
“He thought you would. See you in the Function Room.” She vanished without further ado.
Josh opened the wardrobe, expecting the launch suit. While it was there, in all its glorious parts, there were a further three, ones he recognised from the shop. A gong sounded. Careful not to budge his bandage, he unhooked a cream
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