Carl remembered the first time he'd seen The Iron Mistress . The old knife maker had taped it off television and lent the video to Aaron and him. The start of the movie was boring: Alan Ladd in frilly clothes trying to make Virginia Mayo fall in love with him. He and Aaron had hooted at the television. But then Ladd went to a blacksmith and showed him a wooden model of a knife he wanted made. The blacksmith got all excited and said he had a piece of a meteorite that he would melt and add to the metal. The knife would have a bit of heaven, he said, and a bit of hell. In the next scene, the knife was finished. It flew through the air and stuck into a post. It had a long, wide blade, the elegant curving lines of which made Aaron and him shout, "Cool!" The handle was black wood with a brass cap. It had Bowie's name engraved in ivory and set into the handle. It had a silver guard and a brass strip on the back of the blade. The purpose of the brass strip baffled Aaron and him until they asked the old knife maker about it, and he explained that it protected the knife's owner during a fight. Since brass was softer that steel, it snagged an attacker's blade and kept the edge from slipping down the back of the knife and cutting whoever held it.
Aaron and he watched the best parts of the movie again and again. There were all kinds of knife fights, especially one in a dark room during a lightning storm, blades flashing. A bit of heaven and a bit of hell. But then the movie itself went to hell when Alan Ladd felt guilty about all the men he'd killed and threw the Iron Mistress into the Mississippi.
Carl came back from his memory. "Pay attention," he told Raoul. "The blade has to be carefully cooled."
Raoul concentrated as Carl used tongs to set the long, wide strip into a metal container of olive oil. That had been one of the old knife maker's jokes--to use olive oil to cool metal and then pour the oil over a salad.
But contrary to the way it was depicted in movies, Carl didn't put the glowing knife in tip first. Rather, he set the knife in lengthwise so that the oil didn't touch the back of the blade. The oil hissed.
After a few moments, Carl lifted the knife slightly so that the oil cooled only the blade's edge. Vapor rose, the smell like a hot, oiled frying pan before a steak was added. After another few moments, Carl removed the knife and set it on the anvil.
"People who don't know anything about forging think the entire knife has to be plunged into the liquid," Carl explained. "That could destroy the blade, because sudden cooling has only one purpose--to produce hardness in the metal. A blade that's been hardened one hundred percent shatters if you strike it against something. Instead, the cooling needs to be done in stages. Here, at the edge of the blade, I cooled it the longest because I want the edge to be hard enough to retain its sharpness. I cooled the middle of the blade for less time because I want it somewhat pliant as well as hard. And as for the back of the blade, I didn't subject it to any sudden cooling because I want it even more pliant."
"Pliant?"
"Capable of bending under stress."
Carl paused, hoping Raoul would demonstrate his intelligence by asking the appropriate question.
At last, he did. "I can understand why the blade needs to be hard to be sharp, but why does the back need to bend?"
"In order to be certified a master, a knife maker must produce a blade that passes four tests. First, the blade must be sharp enough to cut through a one-inch free-hanging rope with a single stroke. Second, the blade must be hard and sharp enough to chop through a pair of two-by-fours. Third, it must still retain sufficient sharpness to shave hair off the knife maker's arm. Finally, it must be pliant enough to be placed in a vice and bent ninety degrees without snapping. The only way to meet all of these requirements is to cool different parts of the blade for different amounts of time. The hard edge supplies the sharpness. The pliant back supplies the give. Otherwise, the knife snaps."
Raoul thought about it and nodded.
"Can you be like this knife?" Carl asked.
"I'll be anything you want me to be."
Chapter 5.
The door to the shed banged open. Raoul flew backward through the opening and landed hard on the packed earth. Carl stormed after him and kicked his side, sending him rolling.
At the nearest firing range, students sensed the commotion and turned, seeing Carl kick Raoul again and roll him farther across the parade ground.
"Nobody talks to me like that! Pack your stuff!" Carl shouted.
Raoul came to a crouch, barely avoided another kick, and lurched toward one of the barracks.
Carl stalked toward the students at the firing range.
"Ferguson! You, too! I'm sick of your sloppiness! Get your stuff! I'm driving you and that other asshole out of here!"
"But--"
"Now!" Carl twisted Ferguson's pistol from his hand and shoved him away. "You said you wanted out? You're out !"
"Do I keep the clothes you gave me?"
"And the money! That was the deal, wasn't it? I honor my word, even if you don't honor yours ! Move! You and that other prick have five minutes!"
As Ferguson ran toward the barracks, Carl turned in a fury toward a pickup truck in front of the administration building. He pulled keys from his pocket, started the truck, and made so fast a turn that dirt flew. He sped toward the barracks, made another sharp turn, and skidded to a stop, waiting for Ferguson and Raoul.
Raoul got there first, holding his knapsack.
"Get in the back, damn it!" Carl yelled.
As Raoul climbed into the uncovered cargo space, Ferguson arrived with a duffel bag, breathing heavily.
"Inside!" Carl commanded.
Before Ferguson could shut the door behind him, Carl sped away, tearing up more dirt.
" You're sure you got all your stuff? " Carl demanded. "I want to keep my part of the bargain!"
"Quit trying to make me feel like a piece-of-shit quitter," Ferguson said.
"Isn't that what you are ?"