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Authors: Jack Wallen

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BOOK: Frankenstein Theory
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Igor stared at me, his mouth agape.


Answer the question,” I demanded slowly.


I discovered him at a monastery. He was, I believe, a student of music…the piano, in particular. I’d overheard you and Elizabeth go on and on about the latest pianist to sweep through Geneva, so I thought I’d honor her fondness of the instrument by procuring a man of the keys. His playing of the Mozart piano concerto in A major was heartbreaking. He was a master. Besides, you wanted an artist; thus, I brought you an artist.”


That is all well and good, Igor. But did you hear the man speak?”

Slowly, almost guiltily, Igor shook his head. “The absence of the act does not mean he is unable. It could be he simply remained silent in honor of the monastic tradition.”


Or maybe I have reanimated a man incapable of speech, and thereby we have no means of communication.”

Igor picked up his pencil and offered it to me; I slapped it from his hand. Igor turned away from me.

For a brief moment, I was inundated with shame. This twisted little man had done what was asked of him, and now he stood in fear of his safety.


Doctor,” Igor whispered. “Look.”

Igor pointed at the hands of the creature. His fingers danced in the air as if muscle memory had taken over and returned them to the act of creating music.


I have an idea, Igor.”


Yes, Doctor?”


We’re going to need a piano.”


Here?” Igor asked, aghast.

I nodded.


How do you propose we carry such an instrument down the stairs, Doctor?”

I unintentionally patted Igor on the hump of his back. He winced in pain. “I am a man of science. It offends me to think you do not believe me capable of producing the means by which to safely lower such an instrument six meters.”


Once the piano is in the laboratory, do you plan on playing a concerto for the creature? Or do you expect me to be your organ-grinder monkey?”

I pointed to the man on the table.


Him?” Igor spat. “Why, he’d just as soon beat us over the head with the thing as play it.”


If music be the food of life, Igor.”

He turned to me, and with a great smile spread across his lips, he said puckishly, “Play on.”

 

 

S I X T E E N

 

 

Lowering even a small piano into the laboratory proved a challenge, even for one so deeply entangled with the art of science as myself. Eventually, however, with the help of a complex weighted block and tackle system, myself and three strapping men managed the task.

Once the instrument had been moved into its new home, a tuner had to be brought in. To protect my research, I’d sedated the creature and tucked him within the shadows under the stairs.

The sound of the tuning took my sanity to task. Even as the strings played an atonal melody of madness, I dared not take my eyes off the stranger in my own strange land. One glance at my work, and Castle Frankenstein would be overrun with the constabulary.


This is a fine instrument. I don’t believe I’ve worked on it prior to today,” the tuner said as he struck a string and wound it down and then up.


You, sir, are the first man to have touched it in years.”

He turned to face me, unabashed confusion twisting his face. “Does no one in this castle play?”

I answered with a quick shake of the head.

He huffed. “Bah. This may as well be a corpse. Why bother owning such an amazing instrument if you’re not going to give it life?” Before I could answer, he returned his focus to the tuning. “Forget I asked. I’m fairly certain I know the answer. This glorious tool of joy and art is for show, and nothing more. You bourgeoisie never cease to amaze me.”

I lobbed a telling silence back. He shrugged and hammered another string. The sound of the string rang dissonant against its neighbors. A quick turn of the screw, and the tones sang in perfect unison.


I believe that should do it,” he said, and then sat on the quaint bench. The tuner stretched his arms outward and placed his fingers reverently onto the keys. Without warning, his digits danced over the ivory as if they’d returned home for the first time in years.


Is that…”

Before I completed my question, he looked over his shoulder and said, “A composition of my own? Yes, it is. Thank you for noticing.”


It’s quite lovely,” I responded in earnest.

The man played a while longer, until he drew to an unceremonious conclusion. I offered a smattering of applause so that he could turn and take a quick bow.


Your instrument is tuned, sir.”


Bravo.” I returned to my applause, only this time with gusto. The ovation had the effect of making the man blush as he packed up the tools of his trade. He turned to me, his hand extended. I proffered a handful of coin to cover the cost of the service. He gladly accepted, bowed, and exited the moment and the laboratory.

Without pause, I retrieved the table from its hideaway and removed the muslin cover.


What now, Doctor?” Igor asked.


We await his return to the waking world.”


Can’t you inject the man with some curative to hasten the process?”

I laughed at Igor’s query. “Not without risk. No. I’d much rather allow the sedative to run its natural course.”

It was Igor’s turn to laugh.


Something humorous, Igor?”


The idea of a sedative having a natural course. Wouldn’t that fall into the category of fallacy?”


By that you mean…?”

Igor drew nearer and crossed his arms over his lopsided chest. “The sedative you used, was it not man-made? By that I mean…unnatural? If that’s the case, how could it have a natural course?”


Well played, Igor. Well played.”

Igor bowed deeply from the waist. “One could say my wit far exceeds my charm.”

Before I could reply, a soft moan rose from the table. I placed my hands beside the man and leaned down to meet his gaze.


Piano,” I said softly. “Remember the piano?”

The creature made no sign of recognition. Instead of repeating myself, I held my hands aloft and mimed playing the instrument.

His eyes widened with the slightest hint of joy.


Igor, did you see that?”


Yes, Doctor.”

I left the bedside and stood before the piano. I lowered a single finger to hover over an ivory key. “Listen,” I whispered, and then dropped my finger down to play a note. The tone was warm and inviting. I dropped another finger down, this time on a much lower note.

I turned back to take in the creature. He’d turned his head and was staring at me, awaiting the sound of another note. I complied. As soon as the gentle ring graced his ears, the corners of his lips rose around the gag.

Hastily, I grabbed at the cloth and removed it from the creature’s mouth—unsure if he’d unleash another war cry against his captors. Instead, he moaned softly…in tune with the last played note. I turned back to the piano and did my best to play a scale. As I tapped out the notes, I turned back to see the man’s fingers moving in time with my own.


Help me to sit the man up, Igor.”

We attempted to get the creature to a seated position, but only too quickly realized the muscles of his back and torso had not yet remembered how to work in conjunction with one another. This, of course, took me quite off-guard. The man had been dead for a very brief period—so how could it be possible that his brain had lost the ability to instruct the musculature how to go about the simple task of sitting upright?


A chair,” Igor suggested.


Brilliant.”

Without command, Igor dashed across the laboratory to retrieve the chair from my desk.

I lifted the creature from the bench. Igor shoved the bench away awkwardly with his foot and placed the high-backed chair in its place. I carefully seated the creature and positioned his arms so they were at the ready.

Nothing. The creature didn’t so much as drool down his neck. Instead he sat, save for the rise and fall of his chest, motionless.

What should have I expected? A piano concerto played to perfection?


Failure, it seems.” Igor huffed. “Back to school, as it were.”


No.” I insisted. “We have already achieved the impossible. To give up on this miracle so soon would be a tragic error. We must consider this man nothing more than an infant, ready to learn at our whim. I do believe, however, that music will be the key.”

I pulled the bench next to the chair and seated myself. My right hand played a rudimentary melody, something I’d learned as a child. The weight of the keys beneath my fingers brought to light an instant flood of memories. My youngest sister, always one to get me into trouble for not practicing as I should. My mother scolding me for consistently wasting the time of my instructor.

Father’s rare excursions outside of the laboratory.

I played the melody again; as I did, I turned to take in any change of expression on the face of the creature.


He looks content, Victor.”

I stopped repeating the bygone melody. “We need to give this man a name.”

Igor grinned wide. “Something musical, of course.”


What about Christophe?”

Igor shrugged. “Don’t you think that’s a bit too obvious?”

I gave the name a bit of thought and realized my folly. There would already be plenty of Godly comparisons; the last thing I needed was to name the creature a variant of the name Christ.


Why not Johann?” Igor suggested.

The name played about in my mind, and as soon as I connected it to Elizabeth’s favorite composer, I nodded. “Igor, I believe you have just named the first man-made man.”

A tremulous and razor-sharp laughter spilled from Igor’s mouth. His childish joy was proof enough the creature had been christened.

Johann dropped his balled-up fists onto the keys repeatedly…the sound a violent assault. I carefully stopped the attack and spoke to the man with a gentle and over-slow voice.


Johann, you must take your time. Eventually all motor skills will return.” Johann groaned and writhed against my grip. I turned to Igor. “I’m speaking to him as if he understands. Clearly language is not yet within his grasp.”

Johann slipped his arms from my hold and brought his fists down on the keys again. When the chaotic mass of notes rose angrily from the piano, something within the creature snapped. He stood and swung out. His elbow connected with my eye, sending me sprawling to the floor. I crawled to the surgical table and pulled myself upright. My head throbbed against the blinding pain emanating from behind my right orbital socket.

Johann gripped Igor’s neck with pure malice. The creature attempted to stand, but his legs buckled and he dropped.


Why haven’t you given him a sedative, Doctor?”

There was only one answer to the question…fear. My mind and body had locked up. Instead of grabbing the syringe, I did the only thing I could think of…I sang. A hymn I recalled from childhood; back when Mother and the Baron were still parenting together and insisted Sunday be for the Lord and love. I’d have much rather played the piano, but my lack of skills would only wind up frustrating the man. So singing would have to do.

The words and melody made their way to the creature. As soon as the song drifted into the creature’s hearing canal, his whole demeanor changed. From raging monstrosity to cooing child within the infinitesimal space between heartbeats.

With my voice occupied, I gestured for Igor to help me return Johann to the surgical table. It took more time than expected—partially because his muscles had finally loosened and he was flopping and flailing in every possible direction.

By the time the creature was sprawled on the table, his heartbeat and breathing had returned to a more natural state. He’d gone from raging monster to fragile infant in the blink of an eye.


I have an idea,” I whispered softly. “We’ll need the music box.”


What are you going to do, Doctor? Serenade the creature into submission?”


Something like that, Igor. Actually, I’m going to fill this laboratory with song in such a way as to soothe this savage beast. If he is surrounded by music, he’ll remember how to play. Once he remembers how to play, I am certain the rest of the man will bubble up to the surface.”


I like the way you think, Doctor.”

BOOK: Frankenstein Theory
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