by Peter Oxley
Lexie leaned forwards, a note of urgency in her tone. “This relationship between the two forces would also account for the increasing failure of machinery, and the corollary being the increasing faculties available for successful magical experiments.”
“That is correct,” grinned Maxwell, looking younger and more animated than I had seen in a long time. Maybe bringing him these protégés was not such a bad idea after all.
Lexie turned to Joshua. “It would seem that I owe you an apology, big brother.”
“In what way?” he asked warily.
“It would appear that your assertions as to your magical studies being the key to reigniting the family business were not as hopelessly juvenile as I first thought. If Mr Potts’ Fulcrum theory is correct, then the foundry and all the other machinery were always bound to fail, while your magical methods truly will be more important and useful going forwards.”
“Which is not necessarily a cause for celebration,” interjected Maxwell. “Do not forget that the demons are significantly more gifted in magical methods than we are. And the approaching Fulcrum makes portals to the Aether and beyond that much more feasible, giving them a doorway to our world. Unless we can find a way to stop it.”
“May I see your calculations?” asked Lexie. “I may be able to help come up with a solution.”
“Of course,” said Maxwell slowly. “Although this is something that has taxed me for some time.”
“Even so,” she said, “a fresh pair of eyes may be of some help.”
“Maybe,” he said, “although time is fleeting and so I do not wish to waste it on dead-ends.”
“And that is why we need everyone at full strength and rested so that they can work as effectively as possible,” said N’yotsu, staring pointedly at Maxwell.
“But of course, you are right,” said Maxwell, finally getting the message. “Kate, please escort them to their sleeping quarters and then you may retire yourself for the evening.”
Joshua and Lexie left reluctantly, while Kate paused in the doorway to glare at us. “What are you lot up to?” she asked.
“Absolutely nothing at all,” I said, doing my best to effect an air of innocence as I pushed the door shut behind her. I waited a few moments before locking it.
“That will not do much good,” said Maxwell. “She always manages to unlock it.”
“Have you tried changing the locks?”
“Constantly. At first I thought she was taking copies off the locksmith before I realised that she is just incredibly good with a pick.”
I smiled. “Ah yes, the benefits of a lifetime of education on the streets.”
“All I can say is that I am glad she is on our side,” said Maxwell. “Now, what news?”
“Gus’s affliction appears to be worsening,” said N’yotsu. “Have you come any closer to a treatment?”
“As a matter of fact, I believe I have,” he said. “I have managed to isolate the particular resonances that the Aether emits when it is attached to living tissue. I have constructed a device,” he gestured behind him, “which will attack only the Aethereal elements, leaving human tissue undamaged.”
N’yotsu and I examined the machine he had indicated. The main portion was a large glass dome, not unlike an over-sized fishbowl, into which ran an alarming number of pipes, tubes and wires. A metal rod was rammed through the centre of it, flowing into the floor and ceiling at right angles. The pipes and tubes trailed into a number of bowls and vats containing differing substances, some of which looked like water, while others seemed considerably more viscous as they bubbled and smoked away. At the end of it all, the wires terminated into what was at first sight a writing desk, but on closer examination contained a frankly unnecessarily large number of dials, knobs and levers.
N’yotsu clearly did not share my disdain for Maxwell’s device. “Ingenious,” he said. “Do you believe this will work?”
“But of course,” Maxwell bristled. “I have tested it extensively on a variety of organisms and the results have been emphatic: anything Aetheric is destroyed while those elements originating from the Earth remain undamaged.”
N’yotsu looked up. “You tested it on organisms? What kind of organisms?”
“Plants at first, then mice and rats.”
“What Aetheric organisms did you experiment on?”
Maxwell met N’yotsu’s gaze for a few seconds. “To be sure it works, I needed to test it on suitable creatures. Namely those that we are seeking to eliminate.”
“You have killed demons in this thing?”
“Yes.”
“Including the ones we captured the other week, maybe?”
“Yes.”
N’yotsu threw his hands in the air. “You cannot do that! Sitting here in your laboratory, subjecting innocent creatures to this… torture chamber!”
Maxwell fixed him with a stare that matched the coldness of his voice. “There is no such thing as an innocent demon.”
“I beg to differ,” N’yotsu said. “The creatures we brought back the other week were harmless.”
“I fail to see how anything straying from the Aether to our world can be considered harmless. In any case, you brought them to me for examination.”
“Examination, yes—not extermination!”
“If I am to perfect my methods, I must test them,” Maxwell said in a measured voice as though he were addressing a five-year-old child. “Although my theoretical calculations are usually impeccable, it is not uncommon for errors to creep in to the overall models, or for there to be aspects in reality that were not anticipated or accounted for in my calculations.”
“I appreciate that, but even so—”
“I sense this is becoming a bit of a circular argument,” I interrupted. “Max, can we ask that you consult us before you next experiment on any other creatures, demonic or otherwise?”
“It seems highly unnecessary, not to mention a delay—”
“Max!”
He scowled at me. “Very well. Any further creatures, I will consult you first. Can we get back to the matter in hand? Would you like to see my calculations and results?”
N’yotsu nodded with a scowl.
A couple of hours later I was seated in the centre of the device, looking out at my friends through the curve of the glass surface. The curvature lent them a strange, bulbous aspect that shifted as they moved, making me feel more and more like I was in a goldfish bowl. For their part, they busied themselves with the machinery and the various calculations, largely ignoring me. I was not surprised by this, but it served to increase the sensation that I was merely a creature to be studied or dissected rather than a brother and friend.
“So you are sure that this will work?” I asked again.
“Yes, positive,” said Maxwell. “None of the non-Aetheric test subjects have shown any indications of distress or physical degradation.”
“Did it hurt?”
“They declined to tell me. Of course, I don’t actually speak rodent so I wouldn’t know. But they did not shriek in agony if that is what you mean.”
“Thanks for the reassurance,” I muttered.
I kept my agitation under control as much as I could while I watched them prepare the equipment. I was acutely aware of the lightness on my back where my sword should have been: given its occult nature, we did not wish to risk subjecting it to whatever procedure I was about to endure. I focused on the desired outcome—if it worked then very soon I would be free from the ever-present burden of turning into a demon. I had mixed feelings at this prospect. While I was keen to unburden myself from the constant threat of turning into an inhuman beast without warning, I was also fearful of what I would become without my powers.
Would I still be of use to the others if I could not fight on equal terms with the demons? How could I really contribute to the cause without my powers? I remembered how things were before I was given the runic sword, how I was a hindrance at best and a drunken liability at worst.
&nbs
p; But then I remembered the visions and nightmares I had had over the past few months: of turning into a mindless beast, a stranger and even an enemy to my friends and allies. I had to go through with this.
Finally, satisfied that all was in order, Maxwell turned to me, his hand on a lever. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“Not really,” I said. “But let’s get this over with.”
He nodded and I noted a slight hesitation in his bearing; with a flash of understanding I realised that, in spite of his confidence in his equipment and calculations, it was quite something else to experiment on one’s own brother rather than rodents. “Max,” I said, “I want you to do this. I cannot keep turning into that… whatever it is. I would rather die than become your enemy.”
Our eyes met, a mutual understanding passing between us as I saw the fear and uncertainty on his face. Above all else, though, I knew that he wanted to help me and he nodded, taking a deep breath and then pushing down on the lever.
There was a slight hum and then… nothing. I held my breath: had the device malfunctioned?
Maxwell and N’yotsu scrutinised the dials; whatever they saw there did not give them any cause for alarm.
“Dial ‘A’ is rising,” said N’yotsu.
“Dial ‘B’ is holding steady,” replied Maxwell. “Both ‘C’ and ‘D’ are starting to increase.”
I forced a chuckle. “Could you not have thought of more original names for the dials than the alphabet?”
Maxwell sighed without looking up. “If you would rather I wasted my time thinking up pretty names or acronyms rather than making my devices safe and accurate, then I will bear that in mind for next time,” he snapped. “Now please be quiet and let us concentrate.”
I nodded, holding up my hands as they continued their conversation. After a while they stopped and I peered at them, again trying to see if there was any change in anything connected to the device, as there seemed to be precious little taking place within my fishbowl. “Is it working?”
“As far as we can tell so far. But again, please be quiet!”
I folded my arms, biting back a comment about his lack of bedside manner as I noticed a faint mist seeping into the chamber by way of one of the pipes. It curled around the inlet and snaked towards me, a slow-moving tendril of faint white intent, lazily creeping across the floor and up the sides. My heart started to beat hard in my chest as I realised what this reminded me of.
“Erm, Max?” I said.
“Not now,” he replied, not looking up.
I pulled my feet up off the floor, squatting on the chair and looking around to make sure that none of the mist could touch me as it blanketed the lower part of the sphere. Memories came back of a similar substance in a house occupied by a poor, possessed girl named Milly and a mist that brought with it the leering spirits of malicious children, taunting me with ghastly rhymes. Then there was the same mist emerging from the portal that Maxwell had created to the black abyss of the Aether, a place where hungry hands reached out from withered bodies desperate to devour anything living and suck away all of our vitality to feed their insatiable appetites. And then I was back in the Aether itself, holding the door firm against the pressure from the ghouls without, seeing the mist everywhere and knowing that that was the only tangible feature of the void in which we were trapped.
The mist curled up the chair legs, reaching up to me, coiling and writhing in a hungry dance as it made its determined way ever upwards. “Max!” I shouted.
They both looked up. “What are you…?” asked Maxwell. “The steam is perfectly harmless. It is simply a medium for the transfer of the serum that will then latch on to the Aetheric elements within you. I need you to relax. Let it cover you and breathe deeply.”
“It is just… it reminded me of the Aether…”
“Ha, yes I suppose it does resemble the Aetheric mists somewhat,” he said, treating my comment more as a matter of vague interest than a genuine concern. He peered at it for a moment and then finally noted my panic. “I assure you that it is in no way connected to the Aether. Quite the opposite in fact. Now, please do your best to relax and sit still. I promise I will not allow anything to harm you.”
I stared into his eyes and then nodded. He had trusted me plenty of times in the past and I now needed to do likewise. I gingerly lowered myself back into a sitting position and placed my feet back on the ground, flinching for a moment as the mist enveloped my lower legs. When nothing untoward happened, I relaxed a bit more and allowed my hands to drop down into my lap. Slowly, the mist swirled and rose around me, reaching up to my torso and shoulders. As it stretched its gossamer tendrils towards my mouth I found myself reflexively holding my breath and straining my chin upwards. Clenching my fists, I forced my chin down and took a deep breath in.
A part of me was pleasantly surprised to note that I did not fall into an abyss or start to corrode from the effects of the mist on my lungs. If anything, it smelt faintly of fog, but a clean fog rather than the pervasive and cloying wall of misery that often obscured London’s streets. It had a fairly moist quality that was rather soothing to my skin and throat, putting me in mind of the bowls of boiling water that Mother would make me lean over when I had a cold as a child, draping a towel over my head to fully encase me in a small world of soothing, decongesting steam.
Warming to the idea, I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. When I opened them again, the mist had covered my head completely and the world had taken on an other-worldly view from within my mist-filled bubble. I could still discern the figures of Maxwell and N’yotsu outside but they were indistinct and fuzzy, as though they belonged to a place far away, somewhere I could never comprehend.
Maxwell’s voice came to me as though over a long distance, enhancing my light-headedness. “We are about to commence the next phase and introduce the compound containing the serum. Are you comfortable?”
“I am fine,” I called back, looking at my hands in the strange light. “Are you sure it will not hurt?”
“I believe not, but as I said I could not be totally certain. Please keep us appraised, and if it becomes too much then we shall discontinue. Are you ready?”
No, I thought. “Yes,” I called back.
I could vaguely make out a flurry of activity from outside the bubble as they pulled levers and turned knobs, N’yotsu darting from one side of the bench to the other to call out readings and accept instructions from my brother. I was aware of a slight increase in the humidity within the chamber, a thickness in the air that tasted faintly of copper. For a moment I wanted to rebel against this serum as my mind dwelt on all of the things that my special qualities had enabled me to accomplish—the heightened awareness, the increased speed, incredible strength and stamina. What use would I be to the world without such things?
But then I again remembered the physical changes that came with those abilities, not to mention what they represented: the panic when I first saw the runic symbols run like water from the hilt of the sword to my hand and wrist, spreading red liquid tattoos up my arm and across my body. I remembered a vision I had had of what I would become if I were to allow those changes to continue until they permanently took hold: the sight of me as a snarling demonic creature with hunger in my eyes, lacking in all mercy, morals or humanity. I could not allow myself to become that thing. I would not force my brother to kill me to protect others.
I took another deep shuddering breath, followed by another and another. The enhanced mist felt hot as it seeped into my lungs, a warmness that went from pleasant to uncomfortable in very quick order. I looked down at my hands to see the runic symbols visible once more, swirling slowly beneath my skin. As I watched they grew agitated and started to whirl with an increased intensity, almost as though they were fighting to escape from my body. My breath caught in my throat: it was actually working!
The sensation was unpleasant, but I was ready for that and gritted my teeth as the intensity increased, feeling it spreading from my hands, throu
gh my arms and shoulders and into the rest of my body. Every part of me vibrated as though I were comprised of millions of tiny bees all held together by little more than common purpose, ready to break free into countless different directions at the slightest whim. I gasped as the vibrations continued to increase exponentially: the hive was getting angry.
My skin was a river raging fast over the shifting sands of my veins, sinews and bones, no part of me now fixed or solid. While I still sat on the chair, I was also within it and under it, the normal rules no longer applying to me, if indeed they ever had. With a jolt I realised that sight no longer had any meaning for me, nor did any of my senses: I was nothing more than mist.
But then the mist repelled and attacked me, a swirling red angry mass that wanted nothing more than my annihilation. Who are you? a distant part of me shouted out into this hideous hatred.
Your doom came the reply in a cavernous voice that would have taken my breath away had I any to steal.
Why?
You are abhorrent, an abomination. You do not belong here; none of you do.
A million crows attacked me, gnawing into my very soul. From somewhere far off, someone screamed, a terrible cry that felt like the loss of everything. Then there was a light in the distance, and dimly I wondered if this was the gateway to heaven. Was I going home at last?
A figure stepped into the light, batting away the swirling mist and carrying me out, his face etched in painful determination. N’yotsu bore me from within the shattered globe and out into the room, laying me on the ground as carefully as he could before collapsing beside me in agony.
Chapter 9
“What exactly were you doing?” Dr Smith asked again. When Maxwell remained silent, the doctor sighed. “If you cannot tell me what has afflicted your brother and your friend then I cannot readily treat them. Really, Maxwell; I understand the secretive nature of your work but I have been your physician for a number of weeks now and have betrayed no confidences. You really must trust me.”
