The Clockwork Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

vicinity—and at the Master’s suggestion, I accompanied Fräulein Gruenwald on an errand. Frau Gruber, while sifting through the Master’s pantry, had discovered the kosher salt Fräulein Gruenwald had purchased to encrust her pork shoulder roast, and had found it unacceptable. I am still uncertain as to why, but I have no knowledge of the culinary arts and so must assume she had good reason. Fräulein Gruenwald volunteered to replace it with a coarse sea salt, and before leaving the Master instructed me to accompany her, if only to free me from his workshop for a while, and to provide Fräulein Gruenwald with a suitable escort.
    Fräulein Gruenwald quickly obtained a substitute from the market, and we had begun the short walk home when we heard the loud, panicked whinny of a horse behind us, then the sound of wood crashing against stone, and muffled cries for help. I turned my head to look; three blocks behind us, a carriage had collided with a newsstand, tipping it over, with a man (perhaps some unlucky customer) pinned beneath it. The carriage driver and another man rushed to his aid, but they were unable to pull him free. Fräulein Gruenwald tugged at my sleeve as they began to call for assistance.
    “Ernst,” she said, “I think you’d better help him.”
    I strode toward them with as much speed as my mechanical legs would allow, their low whine audible over the shouting. Several onlookers saw my approach and opened up a path for me when I walked past. The trapped man screamed as I knelt next to him and took hold of the stand. “Get away from me, you monster!” he said, pain evident in his voice.
    “Please, sir,” I said. “I only wish to help you.” I reached underneath and lifted the stand with a single heave.
    I should explain that I intended only to pull the heavy wooden stand off the man so he could be rescued; however, due to my sturdy frame and the power behind the mechanism that drives me, I possessexceptional strength, the limits of which have not been tested. In this particular instance I overestimated the amount of force necessary to remove the stand, and it went airborne, flying several feet across the walkway and crashing into the front of a taxidermist’s shop, shattering a large picture window on impact.
    The gathered crowd stared at me in silence, even the taxidermist himself, who had run outside to discover the source of the calamity; the only sound was my ticking, which had greatly increased in speed and volume, as it does after great exertion.
    “This man needs medical assistance,” I said.
    Two men nodded and began to lift the injured man into the carriage, keeping their distance from me as they carried him.
    “I’m terribly sorry for the damage,” I said to the taxidermist, though he did not respond. As Fräulein Gruenwald approached, I took a few steps toward her, and several people hurriedly backed away. I confess I do not understand their reaction; I injured no one, and assisted where others could not. I shall, at some point, seek the Master’s clarification.
    My ticking, which had been quite rapid, began to slow, and I knew I was in some danger of winding down. My continued awareness depends on a winding mechanism, a key located in a groove near my right hip (hence the soft ticking sound I emit). Should I fail to wind myself every twenty-four hours (more frequently if I am exerted), my inner workings will stop, and I will know only oblivion, as I am denied the refuge of dreams. In such a state I have lost hours, even days, and under the circumstances it seemed imprudent to lose consciousness before an already-panicked crowd.
    “We should go,” Fräulein Gruenwald said.
    “Yes,” I said. “I need to wind myself.” The Master has only informed Giselle and Fräulein Gruenwald about the mechanism, and it seemed unwise to demonstrate it in front of strangers, so we attempted to put some distance between ourselves and the onlookers. (I should also explain that I consider the