Like a Wisp of Steam Thomas Roche (top books to read TXT) 📖

would hold one another's eye a moment too long. We would go too far, but still not far enough.

After all, it was just this sort of temptation we were working to prevent. The goal of these experiments—though we had not accomplished it yet—was to discover a compound for the repression of sexual urges. Such urges, of course, were the source of many societal ills. Dr. Aubrey would be widely celebrated indeed for such a find.

I was attentive as the doctor explained my instructions.

"Nicholas," he said, "I will be gone for a few hours. In the meantime, you must feed her." By "her" he meant the experiment, of course. He talked of his machine as a sailor would speak of his ship, in only the feminine, commanding the utmost respect. To an outside observer, it was a puzzling device, a tangle of hoses, droppers, large glass bubbles collecting condensation, a burner, and a large steam-powered fan for re-cooling the evaporated particles. To others, this overly elaborate collection of scientific instruments might suggest something that only a madman would construct; but, to him, this set-up promised only the alluring possibility of new discoveries.

"Yes, sir," I replied. I sounded calm, but was eager to impress and ecstatic to be left with such a responsibility, even for a short time.

He combined the ingredients I had fetched for him, mixing the powders together in a beaker, and then adding an alcohol base to produce a simple liquid tincture. He held it to the light and stirred it with a thin glass rod from his belt, then handed the dark red mixture to me. "Here's the next compound to test," he said. He opened his small notebook again, scribbling a few notations. "Let's see. Compound ... Compound number four-six-one. You know what to do. Pour a little more of the mixture in every thirty minutes, keep the fan turning, and leave the collection flask in place. If I don't return by midnight, test it on the rats yourself." I nodded, and Dr.

Aubrey collected his overcoat and bag. He paused once in the doorway. "You will remember, every thirty minutes?" I nodded, and he took his leave. Now I was all alone in the laboratory.

I was determined to be as efficient as possible. After all, I was not entirely sure what Dr. Aubrey thought of me, and I needed to demonstrate that I was a capable assistant. I would do anything to please him, and perhaps I would eventually be rewarded.

Carefully, I added new coals to the burner and lit them.

These would provide the power to operate the fan. Next, I walked to the other end of the device, making sure the small flask was in place. I was now ready to add the compound. I could hear the clock strike nine o'clock as I lifted the beaker, pouring fifty milliliters of compound four-six-one into the machine. I sat back in a nearby chair to wait and observe.

Every thirty minutes, I rose to pour in more just as I had been instructed, but the later the hour became, the more slowly time seemed to tick by. Before long, I was startled to find myself waking up to a crick in my neck. My neck was sore, my mouth dry. My muscles had the lazy responses of a man who had been asleep. Indeed, it was true. Somehow, I had nodded off! I panicked, startled to realize the clock was now striking eleven o'clock. I had missed the ten-thirty pour.

Oh, but what would the doctor think of me? As quickly as I could, I grabbed the beaker beside me and emptied the appropriate amount into the machine. Only after I finished did I realize what I had done. I had added the wrong mixture!

The liquid I had just used had been clear, not deep red. I looked back toward my chair and saw the red beaker winking back at me like a great jewel. The unlabeled container in my hand was now empty. I had no idea what the contents had been.

Not knowing what else to do, I sank down in despair, allowing the experiment to run its course, and trying not to think about what the doctor's reaction would be. I felt certain he would be furious, but as to what he would do I could not say. Would he dismiss me for such a mistake? I was just one of many new students at the university, fresh-faced and untried. I had always been fascinated with the natural world, sure that science would be my field of study, but after this blunder tonight I was no longer so certain. My thoughts raced as I considered my position.

At midnight, the machine sputtered to a stop. The large fan still turned slowly, but all other movement had ceased.

The experiment was over. I moved to the far end of the large table and was astonished to see the collection flask brimming with a bright blue liquid. Its surface seemed almost opalescent, shimmering with the hint of many other colors.

The substance was beautiful, but not what was expected. The previous experiments had all produced a pale reddish liquid.

Now the doctor would most certainly discover my blunder.

I knew the only way to keep the night's details from him was to test the substance on the rats myself. That was the only way he would never see the contents of the collection flask. I walked to one of the terrariums and poured a measure of the brilliant blue liquid into their water. I was astonished to see that the liquid immediately vaporized before reaching the water trough. The violent explosion startled me, and I jumped back a few paces and set the half-full flask carefully aside before returning and sealing the top on the terrarium.

Indeed, this had been a strange night so far. One thing and then another had gone wrong at my hands. I hoped that the rats had not been harmed. I watched for them intently as the thick