Just after I had observed the fire at the Dagon House, I strolled down the street to S & S’ coffee room, where I hoped to meet a clockwork doll designated as Miss Rowan.
I did in fact find her there. She stated that she had a request for me, for some upgrades to her functionality.
She wanted to blush and to cry. Perhaps an odd request from a clockwork; those types of upgrades are usually requested by the clockwork’s owner. I told her the mechanics were easily doable, given her already flexible integument.
As we conversed, more onlookers from the fire filtered in, including Brother Malus, who announced to all that he finally had a good night’s sleep, free from bad dreams. It apparently hasn’t improved his attitude any, however. I’ll need to see to him later. Let him build up confidence before I dismantle him. His dreams are spiteful and quite tasty.
I made an appointment with Rowan to see me that evening just before she wound down. She did show up at my laboratory in the hospital right on time. I let her unwind and then removed her cranial unit.
Pulling the skin away was difficult work, but I managed with minimal creasing. Her cheek actuators were embedded tightly, and it took some prying to get them loose.
Mapping out all of her engrams and process cylinders was tedious, of course, but well worth it. She is equipped with numerous emotion simulators. A fascinating design. Once mapped, it was easy to hook up catch cogs to valves on miniature pressure pumps.
I fitted five vulcanized rubber bladders in total — one under each cheek, and one across the bridge of the nose, these filled with a red gelatin. When pressurized, the red gel pushes up against the skin and effects a blush.
The other two bladders were connected to eyedroppers at the corner of each eye, and these are filled with distilled water and saline, to simulate tears.
Finally, two fill ports, one above each ear hidden under the hair. All in all, a great success.
Now for the bill.