Like a Wisp of Steam, Thomas Roche [list of e readers txt] 📗

gas within the container began to clear. I could see now that they were alive. Not only that, but the small white creatures seemed even more boisterous than before. It did not take me long to observe the effects of this experiment.

These creatures were not behaving normally. They had in fact become possessed by the very urges we were attempting to repress, all coupling frantically and most eagerly. This was an incredible find, but how could I ever duplicate it? I had no idea what substance I had mistakenly poured into the machine.

As these thoughts occurred to me, I heard the doctor's sure and heavy footsteps on the stairs. I panicked, not knowing what to do, aware that the gas in the terrarium and the state of the rats made it apparent that something unusual was happening.

Dr. Aubrey swung the door open and threw his overcoat casually over a nearby chair. He strode in confidently, unfastening his cuffs to roll his sleeves halfway up. He flashed me a warm smile and loosened the cravat about his neck, as usual. His face was slightly flushed. Perhaps he had enjoyed a drink or two, or perhaps the night was colder than I thought.

Either way, I liked the effect. The extra color made him look rugged and more full of life. He seemed brimming with health and virility.

It was as he was pulling on his lab coat, however, that his eye finally caught the terrarium. "And what do we have here?" he asked, looking from it to me, and then moving closer to observe. I told him about the reaction that occurred.

He bent at the waist, hands on his knees to study the rats closer. He was clearly astonished. "A fulminate," he said.

"I'm sorry. A what, sir?" I asked.

"A fulminate," he said. "Fulminates are friction-sensitive compounds. The slightest physical contact can produce an explosive reaction. In the flask, these explosive tendencies can be contained, but pour them out and they become dangerous." He was almost giddy as he explained this, fascinated with the result of his experiment. He even clapped a hand across my back and proposed we celebrate our find with a drink.

I was incredibly nervous. My insides twisted, my body wrestling with itself. There was nothing I wanted more than his approval, but I knew I had to explain what I had done.

Otherwise, he would find out when the experiment could not be duplicated. I told him everything, bluntly laying out my entire series of blunders and hoping for mercy.

"Well, Nicholas, you have been busy," he replied when I was finished. His mood was inscrutable. "Tell me, do you want to stay on here as my assistant?"

"Yes, sir," I told him. "Very much, sir."

"And why is that?" he asked.

"I like you very much, sir," I said, immediately regretting it. He looked up at me sharply, those pale blue eyes studying me. "Your work, sir," I said, correcting myself. "I enjoy it very much. It is ever so important." We considered each other for a long moment. Once again, it was a little too long. I knew he sensed it, too.

He licked his lips. "Well, then. There's only one thing to be done," he said. "You cannot yet synthesize more, but your discovery must be subjected to further trials. You must test the last of your mixture yourself."

I was astonished. "But, that could be dangerous," I whispered. "I don't think I could."

"Oh really, now? And what would Madame Curie think of such a sentiment? She is right now dying from exposure to the very substance she has been studying." He looked me up and down. "Great discoveries require great sacrifice."

I was not sure whether he poured it intentionally, or if the flask slipped from his hand. I only know that in the next moment I saw a cloud of that same heavy gas billowing around the two of us. The vapor stung my throat as I breathed it in. The metallic taste hung heavily at the back of my tongue. I did not cough, however, or feel out of breath.

The gas did not feel toxic, but pleasant. As I looked about, its opalescent color gave everything an otherworldly glow.

I certainly was not aware of any change in myself in that instant. I will never know whether the contents of the flask were guiding my actions, or if we simply had license now to act as we pleased. All I am sure of is that in the next moment, I felt Dr. Aubrey step in close, and I felt the press of his godlike lips on mine. He held my face firmly with both hands and drank me in, tangling the ends of his fingers in my hair.

I responded in kind, desperate and feverish. I had imagined this time and time again, but now I could live out what I had imagined. I could act as shameless and wanton as I wished and no one would question my actions. I could always claim I was under the influence of those mysterious chemicals. And, who knows, perhaps I was.

Dr. Aubrey continued to kiss me as he moved his hands to my shirtfront. He gripped the fabric and tore my shirt away suddenly with a loud ripping sound. I was astounded, both by the violence and the urgency of the action. The hunger behind it frightened me a little, but excited me even more. As his mouth moved down to the exposed nipples of my chest, I closed my eyes. I tilted my head back as he bared his teeth, his soft bites causing me sudden intense pain. I gasped a little, and heard him laugh. He raised his face inches from mine. "That hurts, does it?" he asked. Cautiously, I nodded.

"And you don't think you deserve it? After the way you behaved?" He fumbled at my belt then, unbuckling it and reaching down into my trousers. He discovered then how hard I had become, and grasped me firmly. "You've been incredibly irresponsible," he