“That’s about the size of it, yes, Gen. I couldn’t have put it better myself.” Hiram grinned at her. “But we mechanicals don’t mind a bit of dirt now and again.”
“I have a feeling this was a lot more than a bit of dirt, though,” said Silas, shooting a glance at Dorothea.
She nodded and swallowed her food. “I just followed the basic rules, that’s all. Unfasten everything, examine each part carefully, clean it, then put it back together.”
“If it was that easy, how come Mr Silas couldn’t fix it?” Gen asked innocently, looking quite puzzled at the laugh her question engendered.
“Sometimes, Gen, it takes the more delicate touch of a lady’s skilled hand to solve a problem,” answered Lyra. “But to be fair, there are other times when a powerful hammer is required.”
“Very true,” chuckled Hiram, giving Lyra a warm smile.
Silas looked at his friend, then looked at Lyra. Then, wisely, he said nothing and continued his meal.
“So,” said Dorothea, “the more bits and pieces I extracted, the dirtier they were. By the time I got to the innermost housing...”
“You opened thathousing?” Silas couldn’t hold back his astonishment. “That’s the one thing nobody has ever dared to do. You might have...” he stuttered, his eyes wide.
“But I didn’t,” she answered proudly. “And as soon as that was out of the way, I could really get into its guts and assess the situation.”
“What did you find?” Lyra leaned forward, her attention glued to Dorothea.
For a moment, there was complete silence.
“A tiny drop of resin.”
“A what?” Hiram asked.
“Was that it? Nothing else?” Silas asked.
“How tiny?” asked Gen.
“Very tiny, my dear. Smaller than the tiniest Mistletoe berry you can imagine.” She sighed. “Small enough that if I’d been further away, I might well have missed it. But given where it was,well I could see that it would affect the inner movements enough to...to...how can I say this...make it tick wrong.”
“And now it ticks right,” smiled Silas. “That, Gen, is the true essence of our machines, and those of us who work with them. Knowing when a tick is right, or there’s an offbeat chime, a mis-timed clink...it’s not always what you see...”
“It’s what you feel,” Dorothea finished his thought, and reached out for his hand. “I never truly understood that until today.”
“A rare gift, Thea,” he squeezed her fingers. “A miracle, actually.”
“Well,” said Gen. “How exciting. And now therewillbe mistletoe as well as holly.” She smiled. “Can I have some more pudding?”
The laughter echoed from room to room, making Nelson’s ears glow with pleasure. Hearing his humans making that sound was always a good thing.
Chapter Twelve
It was indeed a very merry gathering at Silas Gray’s residence that night.
Even though Gen grew sleepy and was lovingly tucked into bed by her Mama, the party continued amongst the adults, warm, comfortable, and enjoying each other.
It became even more convivial when Silas produced a rare bottle of Old Crown Foundry brandy. Snifters were produced and the liquor carefully poured.
“A toast,” he said, raising his glass. “To the amazing accomplishments of our own Thea. Long may she grace the Forge.”
“To Thea.”
“Oh, well, no...” The woman herself blushed, embarrassed. “It was a joint effort.” She looked at Silas. “You trusted me with the task, and you, Hiram, could have talked him out of it and didn’t.” Then she turned to Lyra. “And if it weren’t for your sweet Gen, I doubt any of us would be here this evening.” She caught herself up. “Well, the two gentlemen might be, I suppose.”
Hiram laughed, a bold, ripe sound that made everyone around him smile. “We might indeed, Thea, but even if we were, I’ll wager a month’s pay we wouldn’t be sipping his private stock.” He raised his glass as everyone laughed.
