The Infernal Aether (First Draft)

Chapter 1 - An Unfortunate Encounter

It is often the case that the most innocuous occurrence can initiate a series of devastating events, like the casually discarded pebble which causes an avalanche which destroys a town. Thus it was when we first met our friend N'yotsu, although at the time we merely thought that we had stopped a seven-foot tall monster from killing a man.

Before I continue I should briefly introduce myself. My name is Augustus Merriwether Potts and it was on a rather cold and damp evening that I found myself trudging through Hyde Park in the wake of my unreasonably cheerful brother. The Park had always been one of my favourite places to stroll, its pleasant green landscape a perfect antidote to London's smoke-filled streets, while the majestic sweep of the Serpentine was a fine counterpoint to the noisome River Thames and its floating islands of rubbish and dead fish. However, rather than being tucked up safe and warm in my favourite alehouse, that evening I had succumbed to my own accursed sense of fraternal loyalty and reluctantly ventured into the cold air to accompany my brother on another of his strange experiments. By contrast, my brother Maxwell was full of the joys of the season as he charged along ahead of me, the pack on his back clinking and rattling with the components of his latest invention. As he walked his equipment beat out a merry tune, taunting me and my rapidly darkening mood.

"I really do not understand why we cannot simply perform this experiment somewhere nice and warm," I said, thrusting my hands deeper in my coat pockets.

"How many times must I explain this to you?" exclaimed Maxwell with a shake of his head. "The experiment is extremely sensitive. I need to be sure that any readings we obtain are not influenced by buildings or other artificial constructions."

"Like a nice, warm fire?" I muttered, torturing myself with the mental image.

"But of course," said my brother. "Remember that the Aether is hypothesised to be a medium which enables the propagation of light. Even a small domestic fire would..."

We were distracted by a movement ahead of us before Maxwell's monologue could proceed any further, an intervention for which I was extremely grateful. I had assumed that we were the only ones foolish enough to brave the elements at this hour, but there was someone -- or something -- else just ahead of us in the deepening gloom. It was a huddled form which at first put me in mind of some type of large beast, perhaps a bear or other exotic animal which had managed to escape from London Zoo.

The creature straightened up to reveal an unnaturally tall man, leering at us with eyes that reflected bright red in the evening light. That light was such that I could not discern the finer details of his face or body and this, combined with the eerie stillness of the Park, served to increase the sense of dread that I felt.

This man was over six feet tall, his face shadowed by some form of hat and his body swathed in a dark cloak. He was leaning over the still form of another man. We had clearly surprised the rogue in the act of attacking his victim.

Maxwell and I stood, frozen in shock, while the attacker glared at us. There was a moment of uncertainty, with neither ourselves nor the mysterious attacker willing or able to make the first move.

This stalemate was broken by the attacker who turned and fled, to my considerable relief. The speed of his flight was unnaturally fast and he was out of sight in a matter of seconds. For a moment I could have sworn that he leapt over one of the trees on the distant horizon, but I discounted that as a trick of the light, my eyes confusing a bat for the attacker's retreating form.

Liberated from our fearful immobility, Maxwell and I glanced at each other and then rushed to the aid of the man lying on the ground. From his attire I surmised that he must have been attacked on his way to a formal function: he was dressed in a fine dark coat and trousers, his top hat discarded a few feet away. His features were strong and somewhat swarthy, giving him an aristocratic appearance. A red but bloodless gash to the right hand side of his forehead evidenced his encounter with the rogue that we had surprised.

We bent over him. "He's breathing," I confirmed to Maxwell. Then I spoke to the man in a louder voice. "Sir? Are you all right?"

My words stirred a reaction from him and he grunted and rolled slightly. His hand went up to the wound on his head and then snatched away with a wince. His eyelids fluttered open and he squinted at us as though he were a new-born only just discovering the use of his eyes.

"Where...am I?" he gasped.

"Hyde Park," I said, helping him to sit upright. "Here," I offered him my hip flask. "Drink some of this."

"I really don't think alcohol is a good--" started Maxwell, but we both ignored him, the man taking a long draw from the flask and then shuddering as the restorative effects took hold in his throat and chest.

"Better?" I asked, taking the flask back.

"Thank you," he said. He looked around blankly. "What happened to me?"

"You were attacked by some rogue," said Maxwell. "He ran away when he saw us. Did he steal anything from you?"

He patted his pockets instinctively. "I...don't know" he conceded. "I remember nothing of the incident. Nothing before you rousing me, in fact."

"No matter," I said, not wanting to alarm the man any further. "I am sure it will come back to you. My name is Augustus and this is Maxwell. And you are?"

The man frowned. "I can't remember," he conceded at last. "My mind seems foggy." He struggled to his feet, supported by the two of us. As he did so, leaning on me for support, I was surprised by his weight; his slight frame belied some great hidden solidity.

"It is probably the effects of that blow to your head," said Maxwell. "I know a doctor, not far from here. Come, we will take you there. I am sure your memories will come back to you once the immediate trauma has passed."

"No," the man said forcefully. He was staring off into the distance. "It is starting to come back to me. That creature that attacked me..."

"Creature?" I asked. The man was clearly still affected by the blow to the head. "I do think we should take you to the doctor."

"No," he said, looking at me with an intensity that made his eyes flash with purpose. "The creature means to do ill. I know where it is going. We must stop it."

I rolled my eyes; the man had clearly taken leave of his senses. Unfortunately, so had my brother.

"Creature, you say?" said Maxwell. "Do you mean to say it was not human?"

"I am certain of it," replied the man.

"Interesting," said Maxwell, scientific curiosity clearly having taken precedence over common sense. "There was something unnatural about the creature..."

"Creature?" I said, eying Maxwell sceptically. "I appreciate that none of us want to accept that there are rogues abroad who could do such harm but you seem all too willing to accept an extraordinary explanation for what is clearly a much more mundane occurrence. He has suffered a nasty blow to the head at the hands of a man. A strange looking man but a man nonetheless. After the beating he has suffered, I hardly think we can rely on his testimony of wicked creatures!" I immediately regretted calling the man's veracity into question, although he seemed utterly unperturbed by my words. "No offense meant," I said.

"None taken," he replied. "But I assure you that, although I may not be in possession of all my memories, I am thinking straight." There was a certainty to his voice that gave me pause, in spite of my misgivings.

Maxwell turned to me. "Augustus, even if we assume that he is not thinking straight, what if he is right? Would you be able to live with yourself if someone suffered as a result of our inaction?"

I sighed heavily. "Very well," I said through clenched teeth.

***This is the first draft - the final, edited version is now available on Amazon - http://amzn.com/B00QO5K8VQ; and the follow-up novella "A Christmas Aether" can be got for FREE at http://peteroxleyauthor.com/readers-group-landing-page/***