Black Dawn

her angry. “Michael gave me this,” she said, and showed him the vial full of liquid. “It’s from one of the holding pools at the treatment plant. The draug were avoiding the water.”

Myrnin focused in on the vial, and as what she’d said filtered through whatever he had going on in his head, he snatched the chain away from her to hold it up to a bright, shadeless incandescent bulb. “Interesting,” he said. “Thoughtful of him to retrieve us a sample.”

“Dangerous,” she said. “He’s lucky he didn’t get killed out there.”

“Aren’t we all.” Myrnin grabbed a test tube and carefully poured the contents of the vial in it. It was a meager amount, but he seemed happy enough. “Excellent. Excellent. A good start to our inquisition today.” He paused, then picked up a slender glass pipette and drew off a sample of the water to add to a slide, which he covered with a second glass plate and put under a microscope. “I’ve been thinking about binding agents. Alchemically speaking, our goal was transforming an object from one state to another—lead to gold, obviously, but many different—”

“We don’t have time for alchemy,” Claire said flatly. “Alchemy doesn’t work, Myrnin.”

“Ah, yes, but I read—wait, I have it here somewhere—ah!” He shoved books around and came up with a piece of paper that looked as if it had been printed off a computer. “Alchemists believed it was possible to change the essential nature of a thing, and look, we were right. According to the Journal of Physical Chemistry, a very high-voltage charge conducted through water can actually bring about a phase transition, freezing diffusional motion and forming a single, stable crystal that—”

“I read it,” Claire said. It freaked her out that he’d read it. Off the computer, not paper? Myrnin wasn’t exactly the surf-the-Internet type. “It’s interesting, but it takes a lot of power, and it doesn’t last; plus, it’s not a permanent phase change. As soon as you remove the current, water reverts to its liquid state.” But it was impressive that he’d found that, she thought; she’d considered it herself, because the idea of turning water into a solid was … exactly what they needed, actually. Just not with so much crazy power consumption.

“But it’s a start, is it not?” Myrnin said. He bent over the microscope and clucked his tongue. “I am honestly mystified by how you humans get anything done with the primitive equipment at hand. This is useless.” He took the slide off and, before she could stop him, removed the glass top and licked the sample.

She fought the urge to gag. He didn’t seem at all bothered. He stood quite still, closing his eyes, and then said, “Hmmm. A bit salty, bitter aftertaste … iron … hydroxide.” He smiled then, and looked at her as if he was quite proud of himself. “Definitely iron hydroxide. That is a binding agent, is it not?”

“You are insane,” she said. “You can’t go around … licking things that come out of a water treatment plant. That’s just … unsanitary.”

“Life is unsanitary,” he said. “Death more so, as it turns out. I don’t believe that iron hydroxide has any effect upon me, but of course I should try larger doses. If it in fact has an effect upon the draug, that is quite an advance ….” He turned and rummaged around in drawers. “Bother. You can create iron hydroxide, can’t you? Make some. I think we have all we need in supplies.”

She found goggles, gloves, and an extra lab coat three sizes too big—she had to fold the sleeves back— before laying out the chemicals she needed, and the tools. “It’ll take a while,” she said. “Try not to lick anything else.”

“Cross my heart,” he said solemnly, and did so.

“I don’t think that really works as a promise when your heart’s no longer beating.” That was snarkier than she probably needed to be, but it shut him up, for a while. She concentrated on her work. It was like being back at school again, with a chemistry problem laid out in front of her—something soothing and simple, steps to follow, and a stable and well-documented outcome. She liked science because it was neat. It followed rules.

And it never broke her heart.

Even with distilled water, it took almost three hours for the chemical reaction of iron wire, water, and electric current to create the thick green gel and scummy surface; she mixed it, then boiled it in water over a Bunsen burner until it was reduced to powder. The entire process produced only a couple of teaspoons of iron hydroxide. She’d lost track of what Myrnin was doing, but by the time she was finished, he took part of her output, mixed it into a glass of water, and drank it down.

No reaction. She wasn’t sure whether she was happy or sad about that.

“On to the next phase.” He picked up a sealed flask of murky liquid and set it on the counter in front of her. “Don’t spill any.”

The water in the container was moving and swirling on its own. Claire put her hand out for it, then drew back, because it reacted to her. “Is that the draug?”

“A sample,” he said. “You do not want to know what I had to do to get it, and I will not be doing it again, so please, small sample sizes, there’s a girl. Our goal is to come up with something that will immobilize them, or better yet, poison them without affecting a captive vampire.”

“Isn’t it dangerous, having this here?”

“Not really. It’s too small to form any kind of cohesive entity. If it tries to organize itself …” He handed her a small saltshaker, which she peered at with a frown. “Silver flakes. A shake or two will destroy the sample, but use it only in an emergency. Now. Work.”

Claire shook her head, picked up a dropper, and began to experiment with the iron hydroxide.

After another long few hours, they had an outcome. It wasn’t what they’d hoped—and it was just in time to report to Oliver, who swept in like the world’s most intimidating CEO. “Well?” he demanded. “What results have you?”

“Science is not speedy,” Myrnin snapped back. “Perhaps you’re deluded by those ridiculous television shows where one waves a magic eyedropper and crimes are solved. But what we have discovered is that although they show promise, binding agents will not be enough. Not in the strength we currently have available.”

“What the devil is a binding agent?”

“Iron hydroxide, for one,” Claire said. “Basically, it binds chemically with contaminants in water and weighs them down. It does hurt the draug; it might eventually even kill them, but it’s not fast. There are other agents like it, though. We can work through each of them.”

“How quickly?”

“Not quickly enough,” Myrnin said. “And frankly, most are far more esoteric than we can manufacture here in our crude little lab. It was a fantastic idea. Just not as practical as I had hoped.”

“Still, it’s more progress than the vampires have ever made before on their own,” Claire said. Her head hurt, and so did her back, and she was badly craving a sandwich. And Shane. “It’s something.”

“I wouldn’t say vampires never made progress. I provided the shotguns,” Myrnin said.

“Humans invented shotguns. And flamethrowers.”

“Don’t try to claim you invented silver!”

“We learned how to mine it, smelt it, and work it,” Claire said. “Sorry, but apart from you, Myrnin, vampires are not really big on the invent part of inventing. You just … steal.”

“Adaptation is the key to survival,” he said. “I believe Darwin pointed that out, quite brilliantly. Still, we need more time, Oliver. Much more. And I have no other ideas as yet.”

“I do,” Claire said. Myrnin turned to look at her, and she shrugged. “You didn’t ask. But I do.”

“Such as?”

“There are a lot of other uses for binding agents besides cleaning water. They are also used in cleaning up toxic spills, for instance. There are a lot that we might be able to find in Morganville, or make. But we’ll need a bigger selection of chemicals.”

“Which we will find where, exactly? Morganville is not exactly a hotbed of scientific—” Myrnin stopped in midsentence as the light dawned. “Ah. Yes. Of course.”

Oliver was not looking pleased. Or indulgent. “I have much to do. Can you provide us with a weapon we can use that is not toxic to vampires, or not? I need an answer. Now.”

“Maybe,” Claire said. Oliver growled, and she saw how close he was to just letting go and being full-on