Metamor Keep -- Snips and Snails
By Christian O'kane

Part 3

The job of restoring the corroded figure lying on the floor of Misha's workshop was a daunting task. It had to be done with care and patience, a slow task at best, but Misha was in no hurry.

First he had to remove the skin on one side to get at the interior.

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"Please go easy with the saw, the metal's ripping instead of cutting," Smithson said anxiously.

"I'm trying, but this metal is so fragile it's like cutting tissue paper," Misha replied.

"Why don't you try using that small modeling knife," the goat suggested.

"Is the blade sharp?" the vulpine asked. "OUCH!"

"Misha, your supposed to cut the figure's skin, not you're own," Jon said.

"Jolly joker. Here," Misha said handing Jon the knife, "you cut for a while."

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Once the skin was removed, he could finally get a good look at the interior. What he found was a mass of gears, wheels, rods, levers and other parts. It was in surprisingly good condition considering the terrible shape of the skin.

Misha studied the interior for a long time without touching anything, trying to understand exactly how this automaton worked. He made countless sketches and took volumes of notes. Even with help from Jon and Smithson it wasn't an easy task.

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"Hello! Cutter, are you here?" Misha said out loud to the empty library.

In a moment the fox morph walked into view from behind some bookcases. "Misha! Hello! What can I do for you?" Cutter asked cheerfully.

"I'm looking for some rare books. Can you get me a complete copy of Archamealos' 'Automatomica' and the companion volume 'Mechanica'?" the scout asked hopefully.

"Hmmm, let me look," the librarian said and quickly disappeared down one of the rows of shelves. He came back a few minutes later with three books.

"Found the two you wanted and I also came upon Mertwin's book 'Mechanicals'. I thought that might be of help to you," the librarian said.

"Great Cutter! You're a Godsend, Thanks," Misha replied.

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"Now let's see, this long thick rod must be the shaft for the main gear that works the tail. These two smaller rods must work the hind legs. But what does this do?" Misha asked pointing to a twisted, rusted gear.

Smithson shook his head, "I've no idea, but maybe it has something to do with that small rod down there, or that one over there."

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After a while he began the slow process of removing all the innards. Each piece removed was given a number that was inked onto it. When the ink had dried it was carefully placed aside for later inspection.

Once the inside was completely empty, Misha cleaned the empty shell, removing all the dirt and corrosion. The hardest part of that job turned out to be identifying the metal itself.

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"Your recognize it?" Jon said in surprise. "We've been trying to identify it for a month."

"Exactly what type of metal is it?" Misha asked.

"This is aluminal," Will Hardy replied.

"Aluminal. That's a blood metal isn't it Will?" Misha asked. The badger nodded in agreement.

"What's a blood metal?" Jon asked.

"A blood metal is a metal used in the manufacture of weapons," the fox answered.

"That's very unusual. In this type of mechanism I would use brass. It's lighter, more durable and easier to work with," Will explained. "I only use small amounts of aluminal myself, mostly because it has a beautiful gray color when polished."

"What can we use to clean it Will," Misha asked.

The badger retrieved a small bottle from a shelf over his workbench and handed it to Misha.

"We're going to need a lot more. Where did you get this from?" Jon asked.

"From Pascal of course," came the answer.

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"So, Pascal can you make us some of this cleaner you made for Will?" the fox asked.

"Of course, how much do you need, one, two ounces?" she asked.

"Oh, about five gallons," Misha said in a soft voice.

"WHAT?"

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Misha dipped the end of the rag in the bottle several times to make sure he got a lot of cleaner. Then he continued cleaning the outside skin of the left shoulder. As the last layer of dirt came off, the rich, dark, gray of the original color came out.

He stopped cleaning and admired the now restored section of skin. "That's a beautiful color. I have to use aluminal in my next clock."

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Large parts of the skin were too far gone with corrosion to be saved, and had to be replaced. That meant carefully cutting away the destroyed piece. Then a replacement had to be fashioned from a sheet of aluminal. The metal was so hard and strong that Misha had to take special measures.

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Jon stepped outside the weapon smith's shop to cool off with Misha. In order to work the metal it had to be heated in a furnace. When it was hot enough, they had to hammer it repeatedly before it cooled too much. Problem was the metal needed to be heated to a far higher temperature than any one had expected. The heat from the furnace made the whole building unbearably hot. So the three restorers set the anvil up outside in the snow and worked there.

The stag looked at the fox, who was sprawled on the ground still recovering from heat prostration.

"You all right?" Jon asked.

The suffering canine nodded in reply, "Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Cheer up Misha, we're almost done. Just one more piece of the neck to do," Jon said in consolation.

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The next part took the longest; reassembling the mechanism and making it work. Misha carefully examined every single piece of the mechanism, all nine hundred and twelve of them. Thankfully, unlike the skin they were made from brass or steel. The few steel pieces were long since reduced to useless lumps of rust, but many of the brass ones were in surprisingly good shape. Those he could reuse, but a little over four hundred were too bent, torn or broken to be of any good. Those he melted down and molded into new parts. Still, all told, the fox had to make by hand five hundred and ninety-three parts.

All these pieces had to be assembled into a working mechanism. That meant countless hours of screwing, gluing, filing, sanding, fittings and adjusting. It was arduous, exacting work that took a long time to complete.

The job wasn't done all at one time, Misha was constantly being interrupted, some interruptions were welcome, others weren't.

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"Excuse me Sir Misha," the page said hesitantly.

The fox turned around and looked at the boy standing in the doorway, "Yes, what is it son."

The boy looked around in amazement, everywhere he looked there were all sorts of gears and rods. All laid out carefully, and neatly.

"Lord Thomas requests your presence in his audience chamber, Sir," the child said.

The fox sighed and put down the mechanism he had been working on. "Ok, tell Thomas I'm coming," he answered.

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"Misha, you moved," Caroline said.

"I'm sorry honey, but I've been posing like this for over two hours and I'm starting to cramp up," he explained.

"All right, I get the hint, why don't we take a ten minute break," the otter suggested.

The fox relaxed his pose and stretched, "How's my portrait coming? Can I see it?" he asked.

Caroline waved the still wet brush at him, "No, not yet. You have to wait till it's done."

He touched the end of his nose and felt wet paint there. "You fink, you got paint on my nose," he said, surprised.

Carol giggled, "OH! I'm SO sorry! it was an accident of course," she said teasingly.

Misha dipped his fingers into a paint pot, and brought them out, dripping with red paint.

Caroline backed away slowly, "Now Misha, my love, put down the paint."

Splat!

"I suppose you think that's funny," she said. The two lovers came together in an embrace and kissed.

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Misha walked up to Cutter's desk; the fox himself was seated there, reading a book.

"Sorry to bother you Cutter but can you help me with something?" he asked.

"Of course, what's the trouble?" the librarian replied, putting his book down.

Misha handed him a piece of paper with an emblem drawn on it. The symbol was of a tower on a hill with two lightening bolts underneath it. "I'm trying to identify this and I'm not having any luck."

Cutter took the paper and examined it for a moment before speaking, "you've tried 'Grey's Heraldry'?"

The scout nodded, "no luck," he replied.

"Hmmm, where did you see this?" the librarian queried.

"I found it stamped on the inside of that mechanical fox I'm restoring. I think it's the builder's heraldic emblem," came the answer.

"I have just the book you need, but I'll need your help carrying it," the scholar answered.

"Just how big is it?" Misha asked.

The book turned out to be two feet wide, three feet long and over a foot thick. It took both of them to carry it to a table and place it carefully in the middle.

Misha examined the book curiously. It was covered in a soft black leather and had no title, but embossed in the center was a life size human hand, palm up.

Cutter took the paper with the drawing on it and placed it in the hand on the cover of the book. As Misha, watched the hand closed around the paper. Then the book opened up to a certain page, and Misha could see a paragraph that was written in bright red ink. "That's fantastic Cutter! Where did you get that?" he asked in amazement.

His fellow fox just shrugged, "I found it here when I took over." The librarian leaned forward and started reading the red-letter words. "Grammont, Duchy of, 345 - 350. Extinct. Only ruler Vernosa I."

"What does it mean extinct?" Misha asked.

"It means that the duchy is gone, no longer in existence," was the answer.

"Is that all the info it has, nothing else?" the scout asked.

"It's a book of heraldry Misha, not history," Cutter explained.

"Well I at least have a name to work with, and I know my metal friend is over three hundred and fifty years old. That's more than I knew ten minutes ago," Misha said.

Cutter closed the tome, and the hand on the cover opened releasing the paper. He took it and gave it back to his friend.

As they were carrying the huge book back to its resting spot Cutter asked, "You ever hear of Grammont?"

"The name sounds vaguely familiar but I can't place it. I'll have to check through my notes back in my room. I have the feeling it's near Metamor though," was the answer.

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"Well Carol, what do you think of it?" Misha asked anxiously.

"It looks beautiful, but it's missing something," Caroline replied. She picked up one of her small brushes and dipped it into some dark blue paint. With brush in hand she opened one of the eyes on the automaton and started painting.

"Carol! What are you doing? I just spent two weeks making those eyes and now you're painting them. That's gold leaf you're painting over," the fox shouted in panic.

Relax... I know what I'm doing. His eyes look so dull and lifeless, so I'm giving them a little life," she replied. After a few moments work she stood back and admired her work.

"He does look a lot better with those beautiful blue eyes," Misha said in surprise.

"They say the eyes are the windows to the soul," Carol responded.

He hugged and kissed her. "We make quite a team."

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In his workshop Misha carefully placed the piece of metal skin on the bench. It was a piece of the skull, from the top, between the ears. From its small mahogany case he took out a metal stamp.

Standing next to him on the bench a large metal fox stared at the craftsman as he picked up a small jewelers hammer. Misha carefully placed the engraved end of the stamp on the inside surface of the skin. He gave a sharp blow on the end of the stamp, permanently imprinting the skin. He examined the mark he had just made; a broad oak leaf with a fox head below it. That was his personal heraldic symbol. Misha picked up the section of skin and carefully screwed it into place on the skull.

Finally, after two years of work on it, the automaton was finished.

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