Inventions destroyed, his mother raced over to them, her screams echoing through her home and her curses hanging in the air. "Monsters," she muttered, over and over again. "Taking my goggles. Stealing my work like I knew you would! Just like everyone else!"

  His brothers moved to confront her, but Oliver held them back. "Let's go. The town folk can deal with her." He glanced across the dusty room, a thin smile cresting his face. He tapped the lens of the goggles. "Besides, she's harmless now."

  The brothers left, hearts weighing greatly in their chests. But they were alive, and they were safe, and Oliver knew that was all that mattered. He gripped Aileen's device in his hand, set the goggles over his eyes, and let them light the way.

  Strawberry Sins

  Heather White

  He gingerly held the flask up to the light. The chartreuse liquid inside bubbled and smoked, the caustic scent burning his nostrils, but the solution appeared stable. He breathed in hard to ease the tightness of his chest. Had he done it?

  He tapped the glass with a clawed nail. Too hard. The liquid sloshed up the side and flashed, settling back down in a gooey brown mess.

  He roared and flung the flask across the room. It shattered on the other side of his lab, a brown smear slipping down the wall. Slumping into his seat, he buried his face in his paws. Was this what he was reduced to? He, Dr. Samuel Wolfe, the man who had brought the Parisian army to its knees with his Cold Induced Temporal Arrestor.

  The notes made no sense, even the parts that weren't encoded! How had Fermin changed the formula? Wolfe's half of the serum had been right. Obviously, given his current form. Step one to an indomitable force, to the super soldier. But Fermin's part! The control! It was warped. And Wolfe's mind! His mind was ? was ?

  A knock interrupted his musings.

  He lumbered up the stairs from the basement and into the foyer. Another solicitor. They had been coming by every day since Fermin had been locked away. Damnable fools. As if they didn't know. Well, two could play at the charade.

  "Doctor Fermin and I are under quarantine!" Wolfe coughed into his paw, a hacking sound that rumbled into a growl. Damn. The effects of the potion were accelerating more rapidly than expected. "You will have to return another time!"

  "Doctor Wolfe?" a woman's voice called from beyond the door. "My name is Eliza Fermin. Doctor Fermin's daughter."

  "His ? daughter?" Did Fermin have a daughter? The old man had mentioned something before he was incarcerated. What had it been? Had it been that his daughter was coming to visit?

  That fool just had to go shooting his mouth off at the club, hadn't he? In Inspector Grant's presence no less. To think Wolfe's last human days had been spent ensuring Fermin was placed in an asylum instead of jail!

  "Correct. May I come in?" the woman replied.

  Lights. He had to kill the lights. And close the curtains. Then let her in, tell her what happened to her father, and get her on her way. "One ... one moment please."

  The foyer was properly shaded when he undid the locks and cracked the door open for her, allowing him to retreat back into the shadows. A slim young woman stepped into the hall, the light streaming in behind her. She wore a heavy motoring dress, with a scarf and flap cap covering her blonde hair. A pair of goggles were perched above the brim of her cap.

  Setting down a small bag, she pulled off her heavy canvas gloves. "Invigorating day for driving, don't you think? The new aether engines are much smoother than their predecessors."

  "I would not know, madam. Driving has never been a hobby of mine."

  "Ah, well, you'll just have to take my word for it then. Now, I have a bag here and a few things in my car that need to be brought in, if you'd be so kind ?."

  Wolfe cleared his throat. "My apologies, but I must be blunt. I don't know what your intent here is, but if it's to visit your father, I am afraid that-"

  "He's been locked up? Oh, that's old news." She waved her hand dismissively.

  He frowned. How had she known that? He had made sure to keep it out of the papers, and he was sure the solicitors came because Grant was looking for an excuse to raid the premises. "Then I am sure you understand that I must ask you to leave. The impropriety of-"

  "Is this not my father's house? If anything, I should ask you to leave. There was an inspector who was quite surprised I would be heading this way. He seemed highly interested in the goings-on here." She smiled in his direction, her lips tight, teeth showing. The fur on the back of his neck rose. But then she laughed. "I wouldn't do that though. There's work to be done, isn't there?"

  What sort of woman laughed off a threat like that? "Madame, I am not at liberty to say. If you can come back when your father has been released, then I am certain that-"

  "You are hedging, good sir. I despise that." She slapped her gloves in her palm before smiling again. "But I know all about my father's work. In fact, let me see you. In the light. We mustn't skulk about in the dark."

  "Madam, I-" He'd frighten her, and then all would be lost as Inspector Grant would have his excuse to come rushing in.

  "Please?" She tilted her head and held out a hand, imploringly.

  He breathed in deeply, taking in her scent. What was that perfume she was wearing? Fruity with a hint of something tantalizingly musky ?. No! He should force her out. Deny her request and make her leave. He breathed in again. Strawberries. That's what he was smelling. But what was the harm? She was Fermin's daughter. Perhaps she'd have a key to fixing her father's mess among her belongings. Or know where to look among Fermin's.

  He stepped out into the light.

  She gasped and covered her mouth. Wolfe restrained a wince. He could only imagine how he looked in her eyes, towering over her, his body covered in fur, the muzzle full of teeth jutting out, the pointed ears and claws. Fortunately his dignity was spared thanks to a large pair of pants and a now torn lab coat.

  "You mean ? you really did it? You and my father-?" Her mouth opened into the shape of an O before she clapped her hands. "How wonderful!"

  "Wonderful? As a first step, I suppose, but the formula was flawed. Your father's half failed, and now I can't reverse the effects!" He slammed his fist against the wall, leaving a cracked indentation. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Apologies. Since the transformation, I find it hard to control myself at times."

  "Oh, don't apologize to me. I should be apologizing for my father. He never could follow through." She stepped closer and touched his muzzle, guiding it gently this way and that as she looked him over. "It is an amazing transformation though. Your work?"

  He should step back. But it had been years since a woman touched him. "Yes, madam. Some of my best."

  "Undoubtedly. Which is why we must fix it!"

  "Fix it?" He chuckled, the laugh rumbling through his chest like a purr. "Reversing your father's formula and correcting it is what I aim to do. Which is more reason why you must leave. It is simply too dangerous for a young woman to remain here, with me!"

  "Can you read them?"

  "Read them?" He frowned.

  She crossed her arms. "My father's notes. Can you read them?"

  "Well, no, but--"

  "Fortunately for you, my father taught me his work and his cipher." Taking a small step toward him, she slowly put her hand on his arm. "Please. Let me help. With my father confined, this is an opportunity for me to correct his work! An opportunity to put it to a greater use!"

  Wolfe looked down at her and then at the sunlit street framed by the open door. A small silver two-seater was parked out on the lane, its aether crystal still unhooded and warming in the sunlight. Fermin had meant to betray him, prevent Wolfe from using the formula on his own instead of taking on the Crown together, Wolfe was sure of that. Fermin had made his move just before Wolfe made his. But if his daughter thought this mishap was a mistake, and if she knew her father's code, well, who was he to disillusion her? "There's a small garage in the back, madam. If you bring your automotive there, I would be happy to help
you unpack."

  "Oh wonderful!" She twirled to the door, pausing in the opening to look back at him. "And please, call me Eliza."

  II.

  The pink liquid in the flask bubbled and churned over the burner as Wolfe delicately pieced more glass tubes to the distillery. Just a little bit more ....

  The door opened, slamming into the wall with a sharp crack, and the tube shattered in his paw. He yelped in pain.

  "Oh dear, I'm sorry, did I startle you?" Miss Eliza asked in a breathy voice, rushing over to grab his paw. "That's my fault, isn't it?"

  Wolfe breathed in deeply, as much from her touching his wound as to take in her delightful scent. Though it had only been a short while since her arrival, he had decided that strawberries were most heavenly. "It's nothing, Miss Eliza. It will heal itself in a moment."

  He gently removed his paw from her hand and placed the other on her upper back, guiding her to a plush high back chair. Books were piled around it: Fermin's notebooks, his own, and books for Miss Eliza's own amusement. The books on perfumes he could understand her reading, but why she found Whitaker's Hormones, Pheromones, and the Senses a fascinating read, Wolfe couldn't comprehend. Whitaker was barely literate! And his theories nonsense. As if any rational being would fall for such bestial trickery.

  He turned his attention back to her. "You seem agitated though. What's wrong?"

  "Oh, it's Inspector Grant again. He seems to think we're hiding evidence of my father's wrongdoing or some such. He's threatening to condemn the house!" Miss Eliza flung herself into the chair, taking a moment to arrange her skirts. Wolfe kept his mouth shut, lest his tongue loll out like a common dog and betray his amusement. "I've only been here a few weeks and he says the payments aren't up to date! You have been keeping the payments up, haven't you? I don't want to be out on the streets and have another of my father's partners locked away!"

  Had he? He seemed to recall putting the payments in the post, but the days were a blur of experiments. He was the verge of the solution!

  Miss Eliza hadn't noticed his distraction. "... and he wants to court me! How could I when-?"

  "Court you? Who?" Who would dare to take his Eliza away from him?

  Wait. His Eliza?

  "Inspector Grant. Do try to keep up. But I shan't see him as long as the work remains unfinished." She laid a hand on his arm.

  Wolfe growled. "Would you like me to take care of him?" He blinked and straightened. Take care of him? That wasn't what he should do. But now that he thought of it, it would be easy to do and an easy solution.

  She gasped. "Oh no, you musn't, Doctor Wolfe! But ? would you really be able to take care of him? Just for me?"

  He stiffened. "As your father is currently ... incapacitated, it falls to me to protect you in his absence."

  "Even if I said I could protect myself?"

  "I ? I would insist, Miss Eliza." And he would. It was the proper thing to do, after all. One couldn't leave a lady to face an unwanted suitor on her own. It had nothing to do with her being far more competent than her father, with a much more delightful laugh, or that he found himself following that strawberry scent around the house when she went out. Or even that it was so rare to find a woman who could hold a proper scientific discussion. No, this was simply a matter of proper etiquette. Even if he was planning to skip right to a duel.

  "I shall keep that in mind, good sir. However," she waved a hand towards his distillery, "I think you've left your chemicals over long. Weren't you trying Campion's distillation and tincture arrangement today? I do believe that has a shorter boiling time."

  Wolfe rushed over to find the liquid had boiled over. He nearly threw his muzzle back to howl in fury, only to catch himself and slam his paws on the table, rattling the beakers and tubes. "Drat it all! It'll have to be redone!"

  "May I help this time?" Miss Eliza approached, her skirts gently brushing the carpet with the sway of her stride, and stood at his elbow. "It's the least I could do after causing you injury. Besides, didn't I tell you Campion's methods were outdated? While traveling in France I heard of this amazing new method to combine chemicals, but we'll need to modify my aether engine."

  The scent of strawberries intoxicated him. "For you and science, Miss Eliza, I am willing to try anything."

  III.

  The bright blue liquid in the flask sat calm and still. Wolfe eyed it warily. Had they done it? Was it right? He couldn't remember what color the original potion had been.

  It was stable though.

  He had followed all the instructions as Miss Eliza had read them.

  It smelled delightfully of strawberries.

  So it had to be correct, right?

  His head ached. Thank goodness for Miss Eliza. The-what had she called them?-formulas he once knew looked like arcane scrawling now. Words slipped off the pages of his books and he had to be careful not to rip them apart in a fury. Why was his mind abandoning him now? Now at the edge of victory?

  But it would be all right after this. Drink the potion and everything would be fixed the way it should be.

  They would go forth and take the Crown from the silly queen upon the throne, and he would prove to Fermin and all the scientific heads what true science meant.

  Then he would ask Miss Eliza to marry him. She would be his.

  The door opened and she stepped in. "Haven't you taken it yet?"

  He shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself. "I'm not sure if it's right. It doesn't look familiar."

  "It'll be alright, Wolfe!" She walked over, the swish of her skirts sounding enticing over the hum of the aether engine in the back of the room.

  They had ended up using it to ? to ?. He groaned. Word. What was the word? They had twirled it. That worked. Twirled it in a circle to separate some of the components better. Her idea. She'd make an amazing assistant for any man. However she was in front of him, holding up the flask.

  "We followed my father's instructions perfectly, and yours as well. This will make everything right. Your head will stop hurting." She laid a hand on his arm.

  "I know, I know! I just ?." He groaned again and gripped his head. Strawberries. Focus on her. On the success.

  She huffed and then smiled as he looked up at her. "I just want to see my father's mistake corrected. Drink it. Please."

  "Just one more test. After the last time," he waved a paw at himself, "I want to make sure there's no more problems."

  "But what test would you-?" She ground out before a loud banging resounded from the front door. "Now who could that be? Do whatever testing you think you need. I'll go check the door." She left, leaving the door open behind her.

  Test. Test. What test could he do? What test could he remember? He could ... see how it reacted on a plant. He had plants. But plants weren't animals. Wasn't that why he took it himself? The tests were inconclusive on other animals and plants weren't a good option. Maybe the aetheric microscope Miss Eliza bought? It would show any impurities in the formula.

  Shouting. His ears perked up. Miss Eliza was shouting at someone. Wolfe padded to the open lab door and listened.

  She was yelling, "... Grant, he's not here! Coming in will help nothing!"

  "You have been evading me all week, Miss Fermin! I won't have it! Not with proof he's as dangerous as your father! Either he comes away from this house, or you do!"

  Inspector Grant? He was threatening Miss Eliza! Wolfe growled and grabbed the flask. This was his mess to fix. He just had to get Grant placated. Then all would be well.

  The potion chilled his throat as it rushed down.

  Pain. Twisting bones. Tearing muscle. Blood rushing in a hot frenzy. Heart beating, hitting the bones in his chest. Something was wrong. The beaker shattered on the wall across the room. What had she done? He roared, the glass around him rattling from the pressure.

  Footsteps running. Gasps.

  She was in doorway, hand covering mouth. Her other hand was gripped by the man in front of her. She was pulling, tugging, es
caping. Strawberries filled his senses: she was unhappy.

  Growling. Man pulled out silver barrelled thing. No matter. Leaping, tearing, biting.

  Screaming.

  Silence after crunch. Hot liquid rushing down throat.

  She laughed and petted head. Red coated her skirt. "Oh my gorgeous Wolfe. You've given me the world!"

  Sniffed. Strawberries. Tail wags.

  The Yellow Butterfly

  Ashley Capes

  Clank.

  Takashi slammed his hammer in time with the other men in the factory. Light from high windows gleamed on the steel sheet. Another ten just like it had to be finished by dark, else Shach? Nishimura would have two men-chosen at random-beaten and sent home without pay. His brutes wouldn't break arms or legs of course, since it wouldn't do to hurt productivity, but the bruises would be black enough.

  And maybe it wouldn't matter soon.

  The town of Baigan was teetering on collapse, or so it seemed. He'd tried to buy pears yesterday, and the merchants had only shaken their heads and sent Takashi back to the dust that climbed the wooden walls of the buildings around him. Shouts had risen from the harbour as he'd walked by but he hadn't turned. Another submersible accident - more of Nishimura's lust for gold gone to folly.

  A shrill whistle sliced through the clash of steel-on-steel and hiss of steam.

  Takashi stopped, wiping the sweat that stung his eyes. It ran down from his close-cropped hair; like every sane man in the factory, he kept it short. Less to get caught in one of the hulking, snapping machines - their mouths were ever-hungry. There was always someone shovelling piles of coal into the beasts' red bellies and their sparks were like tiny orange demons, darting everywhere.

  It was different in Geinmo, supposedly, where electricity powered some of the machines. Takashi sighed; a new world loomed.

  Foreman Ito entered through the gate. His face was red and his arms flapped in his black kimono as he strode along the rows of sweating men. "Shach? Nishimura is on his way. I want you working, do you understand? Don't make me regret hiring you." He shook his head, then hollered. "Two more submersible interiors due by the end of the month. That's ten days. Ten days!"

 
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