“Thank you, good sir. Your reputation for quality puts me at ease . . .” Not entirely, but if science and human understanding were to be furthered, risks had to be taken. “It is said that it was your forefathers who forged Emperor Maximillian’s Iron Army.”

“Perhaps . . . My family’s work has long been as reliable as our ability to keep a secret . . .” The chief workman held out one hand expectantly. Dippel handed over the sack of coins. He quickly hid away the princely sum inside his coat. “I know it isn’t my place to ask, but what do you intend to do with this beast?”

That was an excellent question. He was not quite sure yet. “That will be all.”

The chief workman bowed and took his leave of the dungeon, obviously glad to be free of the dreadful place and its unholy denizen. Dippel knew that he had a reputation for being a bit odd, but it was not his fault that the masses were so profoundly ignorant and oblivious to the mysteries of the universe.

The creature continued to watch him. Emotions were difficult to read upon its mangled face, but it seemed calm, observant, nearly studious even. Dippel went to the corner and picked up the musket his servant had left for him. “Do you see this? This is a weapon. Should you attempt to harm me, I shall use it to put a lead ball through your heart. I do not wish to destroy you, but I shall if you make such actions necessary. Do you understand?”

All he got in response was a curious tilt of the beast’s head.

“The only reason I’ve not shot you already is because then what would I have to show those know-it-alls at the university? To think they called my marvelous Elixir a fraud—oh, and how I cannot wait to see the looks upon their faces when they see you.” He pulled up a stool and sat down far out of his creation’s reach, and placed the musket across his knees. “Can you understand me at all?”

The creature blinked.

“I find myself in the curious position of attempting communication with a thing, which despite its vast presence, may only have the intellect of an infant or an insect.” Dippel sighed. “I was so focused on the creation of life that I did not think through the aftermath of my unlikely success. To you I am probably producing a series of articulate noises, with no means to unravel the mystery of their connotation. I imagine that I will have to teach you what each noise means by degree.”

It was difficult to tell, but it appeared that the creature’s mouth turned into what appeared to be a scowl of confused consternation.