They continue walking down the street and see a boy, around twelve or thirteen years old, who is sitting on the footpath, cutting keys. His right arm has a metal frame like that of a coffee press, but his prosthetic looks incomplete. He is using his left hand and legs for the job. Further down, there are some children huddled together by a shoemaking shop, a boy with a peg-leg, a little girl with no wrist and others either with metal frames for hands or empty sockets. They see a clergyman holding a list in his hand counting them. Shadows cast by the tall buildings make the path look glum. Next to the group there is a tall man with a greasy beard. He is removing a steel cheek from a young girl’s face sitting in front of him. She is whimpering yet sitting still as the man neatly removes a screw from the steel plate. They stop to watch this.
Peter holds Alfred’s arm looking at the scenario and says, “What happened to them?”
“Don’t you like their mechanical parts? They look just like mine, don’t they?”
Peter looks at the rusted socket of a girl standing among the huddled children then at Alfred’s polished prosthetic.
“This is our future, Peter.” Alfred starts walking, Peter is next to him who is pondering his future. He imagines a world full of people with less flesh and more metal, then shudders. He thinks to himself, whether anyone would remember the soft skin or the natural mass of the human body. If what Alfred says is true, he would not want to live in such a world, where metals and wood are a part of his body. He understands that Alfred needed to alter his faulty part, maybe the children had some flaw too, but they look unhappy, unlike his guardian. He is sure that a benevolent man such as Alfred would have helped them, if he knew of a way. Peter feels grateful and blessed to be living with such a kind man, so he holds his hand and strides with pride.
Alfred takes a sip from a hip flask which he returns into the pocket of his coat, then wipes his damp forehead. The children remind him of the experiments taking place in the Royal Society. They are less than a mile away from their destination. He has seen it happen, little children with perfectly normal bodies being brought in. Their parents are being paid for delivering the child. Sometimes a clergyman would bring a group of children from an orphanage. He has seen them being fed and raised. He has seen them go into an operating theatre one day and return with a prosthetic instead. Many of them never returned. Their screams and cries haunt him till date. He remembers children playing in the garden surrounding the main building, how active and happy they would be. Seeing them abandoned by the Society is shocking. He wipes his forehead again and reasons with himself, the technology needs to advance, and these brave souls are a part of this revolution.