The Infernal Aether (First Draft)

Chapter 7 - Cry for Help

The sound of my fist on Maxwell's front door competed with the increasing volume of my curses. I glanced around, sure that at any moment a hand would descend on my shoulder, or worse.

I had a sudden flash of insight and pulled up his doormat. Sure enough, there was his spare key. Predictability was a trait which definitely ran in the Potts family.

I darted into the house and, once I was sure that the door was securely locked behind me, started shouting. "Max! Max, where are you?"

There was no reply but I ploughed on regardless toward his laboratory. There he was, along with N'yotsu, his new partner in crime.

It is worth pointing out at this juncture that science was Maxwell's life, and the make-up of his house reflected this fact. To that end, it is misleading to refer to his house as containing a laboratory. His whole house was his laboratory. No room was safe from the encroachments of his experiments, equipment and scribblings. So to be strictly accurate I should refer to the room that I found him in as his main downstairs laboratory, which other people may refer to as the Sitting Room.

The pair of them were bent over some device or another, the purpose of which I neither could nor particularly wanted to fathom. N'yotsu looked up briefly as I approached and greeted me with a friendly: "Augustus, how good to see you."

I glared at them both. Maxwell was more interested in the device than me, and he muttered something which drew N'yotsu's attention back to their infernal device.

"I need your help," I said and was rewarded by a noncommittal grunt from the other side of the room.

I bunched my hands into fists, tensing my arms as much in frustration as to try and stop the uncontrollable shaking. "Max," I said, increasing the volume and firmness of my voice. "I really need to talk to you. Both of you. Right now"

Maxwell looked up and finally focused on me. "Good heavens Gus," he said. "You look terrible. Even worse than usual. What have you been up to?"

I slumped into a seat, vaguely aware but not caring that it was covered in papers. To his credit, Maxwell allowed only a flicker of alarm to pass across his face at my treatment of his carefully arranged clutter.

N'yotsu appeared at my side with a glass of water which I accepted with a nod of thanks. "I'm in trouble, Max," I said.

"Again," he remarked.

"Serious trouble. Extremely serious trouble. The police think...They think I killed someone."

"Did you?" asked N'yotsu.

"No, of course not!"

"Then why do they assume that you have killed someone?" said N'yotsu.

"Please try and not be so innocently logical for once in your life,” I snapped. He shot me a hurt look. “I am sorry,” I said, forcing calm into my voice. “A girl was killed and I was there. I somehow managed to escape with my life but I was seen with her body. I panicked and ran and before I knew it there was a hue-and-cry being raised against me."

"So why don't you go to the police and explain their error?" asked Maxwell. Both he and N'yotsu looked back at me with the same infuriating innocence.

"Max," I said, fighting to keep my voice level. "Do you really think the police will take my word over everyone else's? I'd be swinging at the end of a rope in Newgate in no time."

"I do not understand," said N'yotsu. "Why is your word worth any less than anyone else's?"

"Let us just say that my brother has something of a reputation. He is not known as the most reliable person in town," said Maxwell. "Although I doubt anyone would seriously believe you capable of murder."

"I'm not going to the police, Max," I said, rubbing my forehead with the heel of my hand. "Not without proof of my innocence, anyway. Please can we all just accept that fact."

They glanced at each other but thankfully did not continue any further with their questions. "I need your help," I said, downing the last of my drink of water and setting it down on a pile of papers.

Maxwell swiftly retrieved the glass and somehow managed to find a home for it which was free from papers or strange tubes. "If you will not let us speak to the police, I am not sure what else we can do," he said.

"There's more to this," I said. "Something which I think you will be interested in." I sighed at what I was about to say. "My attacker was not human. I believe it was something...demonic."

N'yotsu perked up at these words, while Maxwell eyed me sceptically. "What have you been up to this evening?" he asked.

"You mean apart from witnessing a friend's murder, narrowly escaping my own death and then being chased around London by the Old Bill?" I asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes." He adopted an annoyingly stern tone of voice which I was only too familiar with. "Before this attack, am I right to assume that you were in a tavern or some description?"

"Well, yes, but--"

"And you were of course drinking."

"Of course..."

"Anything else? By the looks of your pupils I would suspect laudanum."

"I little," I said, crossing my arms. "I know what you're suggesting, but I can assure you that this was no hallucination."

"You know as well as I do," said Maxwell. "In a darkened street, a person who is panicked and under the influence of drugs can interpret all sorts of things in any number of ways."

While Maxwell had been doing his best to irritate me, N'yotsu had retreated to the mess of equipment at the rear of the laboratory and returned with a device which contained a squeezable bulb attached to a bewildering set of dials and gauges, in turn set in a piece of wood. The whole thing looked like the outcome of an unfortunate mating between a lady's perfume dispenser and a carriage clock. I noted that N'yotsu clearly shared my brother's disdain for the aesthetics of his creations.

He waved it around my body, squeezing the bulb at various intervals. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"This picks up any residual Aetheric disruptions," he said. "Look," he waved Maxwell over and they both peered at the dials. "It would appear that he has been exposed to some form of disturbance over the past few hours."

"Well," said Maxwell. "It looks like you were telling the truth after all."

"I am so pleased your puffing machine agrees with me," I said drily. "Does this mean you will help me track down the murderer and deliver it to the police, so I can clear my name?"

They looked at each other. "This would provide an ideal opportunity to test the Aetheric Sensor," said N'yotsu.

"Indeed," Maxwell nodded, his eyes lighting up. "Very well," he said to me. "We will help you."

I chose to ignore the fact that scientific curiosity was a more compelling reason for them than clearing my name. However, there was one thing which was bothering me. "Please don't tell me that we're going to wander round East London puffing everything with that perfume dispenser. We will be the next ones murdered if you do, and we won't need anything supernatural to achieve it."

"Of course not," said Maxwell. "We have developed a more practical version." He darted behind a bench and re-emerged holding aloft yet another device triumphantly. I stared at him. It was less effeminate than the creation that N'yotsu had waved over me, but no less conspicuous. The closest approximation I could find was a shortened version of a brush that a chimney sweep may use, but instead of the bristles at the end, there were a series of small funnels.

"Oh good," I said, casting my eyes heavenwards. "That's so much better."