When Cielo and Rosie returned, Dale was surprised to discover that, underneath all the grime, the girl had light brown hair and fairly white skin. The navy dress Cielo had somehow convinced her to wear was not too big for her, revealing Rosie wasn't underfed, an unusual situation for a child living on the streets.
"We're ready," Cielo said. "I had brighter dresses but, when I told her she could keep it, she chose this one."
Smart kid. Any bright color would make her a target in the streets.
"How long do you think it will take?" Dale asked Cielo.
She glanced at the girl's hanging wrist. "About an hour. Then another hour for her to wake up."
Aurore had been right. He was left with two hours to kill. Unfortunately, he was too far from the city to make a trip back worth it, and the fair was closed. Once again, he resigned himself to wait. How long would it take Spinner to wake someone?
Just as he was wondering that, the front door opened and Spinner appeared, followed by Rake. The taller knife thrower wore a grumpy expression and looked like he'd rather go back to sleep than perform any kind of surgery. Dale hoped they couldn't afford any bad publicity and wouldn't screw up the job, especially one commissioned by the Golden Lady, but he remained on guard.
Keeping the chatting to a minimum, Spinner plugged in the coffeemaker on a shelf and, when it was ready, poured Rake a cup.
Rake took a sip, twisted his neck to both sides, and settled his still hooded eyes on the "client". "What's your name, kid?"
"Rosie," she answered in a tentative, but clear voice.
"Okay, Rosie," Spinner said, taking a step closer to the girl. "Let's get you to the production room and prep you for the procedure."
"Wait." Rake raised his cup. "Did you check her teeth?"
"What? Sweetheart, open up." Spinner bent over to look at Rosie's mouth.
The girl bared her teeth, but her jaw remained locked.
"Oh, shit!" Spinner drew himself back up in a hurry as if frightened by what he saw. "How long have you had those?" Rosie shrugged. "One year? Two?" Spinner insisted.
"Three."
"What's wrong?" Dale asked from his place by the wall.
"The stuff they used to reconstruct her face ..." Spinner shook his head. "It reacts to our chemicals. Most likely, the anesthesia will melt half of it off."
"So you can't do it?"
"No, we can ... We just need to find another approach."
"Any idea?" Rake asked and drank some more from his cup.
"Well..." Spinner ran both hands over his face. "We could remove the metal parts and prosthetics, fix the hand, then redo her face."
"Sure, if you want to finish by the time we arrive in Paris," Rake said.
Spinner grimaced. "Right, it takes too long ... We could remove the whole arm, fix the hand, then reattach it. We have about a week left here. It should be enough to make sure everything is in order."
"And how do you solve the pain problem?" Rake asked. "Do you disconnect her head completely?"
"Hmm ... Yeah, too complicated," Spinner said.
During the silence that fell between them, Dale wondered why the kid didn't look horrified and start throwing up already. The facial reconstruction must have been a terrible experience for her, making her believe she could survive anything. Maybe she could.
"Okay, the way I see it, we have two options," Spinner said. "Either we get Nicholas to put her in a light state of hypnosis, or we have the Nightingale sing to—"
"Or we use the menzataxor!" Cielo interjected.
Spinner frowned, then reluctantly nodded. "That might work."
"And we freeze the arm. She's too young to use anything else." Rake put the cup down. "I'll go and get the cooling system running."
"Damn, my joints ache each time we use it," Spinner grumbled to himself. "All right." He rubbed his hands together. "Cielo, bring the menzataxor while we get her ready. Come with me, little miss."
Once he picked up the prosthetic and took it away with him, Rose followed Spinner out of the room like a puppy.
"Can you help me bring it here?" Cielo turned to Dale with a shy smile. "The cage is heavy."
Dale nodded for her to lead the way.