Nathaniel awoke with a pounding headache. He tried to move but found he was fastened securely to a wooden table and could not even turn his head. His eyes darted around trying to get his bearings. He was in a small, dark room with rough stone walls and lit by flickering lantern light. He was nude except for a mask covering his mouth and nose, a small length of tube jutting out from the middle. Two men stood off to his left. Captain Johnston was one, the other was an older wearing a jacket covered in pockets.

"See? He's awake, I told you he'd be fine." Johnston said.

"Yes, this time, but you simply must be more careful in the future. The dead are useless to me. You must be patient when you incapacitate the subjects. Only a quick dab on the cloth, it should take no less than three minutes to render them unconscious. Any faster and the dose is too strong, you risk inducing a coma or death." the old man said. Both began to walk towards Nathaniel's helpless form. He struggled against his restraints, breathing hard through the hole in the mask, but his restraints were firm.

"Well, this is where we part ways," Captain Johnston said, leaning over Nathaniel. "I want to get back home, get some sleep. Tomorrow I'll put Tabitha on a train to the capital and she'll get to start a new life."

Nathaniel could do nothing but stare. Something was in his mouth, forcing his jaw open and rendering him unable to speak. He made a few weak grunts but Johnston ignored him.

"It's a pity that she's leaving. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that she's getting out of here. She's a sweet girl and deserves a chance at happiness after everything your kind put her through, but she's provided me with a lot of good information over the years. Never lead me astray, that one. I couldn't always act on what she told me, had to give the appearance of stumbling across criminal activity purely by coincidence to avoid exposing dear Tabby to the sorts of cruelty your kind are capable of when you're out for revenge."

Again Nathaniel tried to protest but Johnston shook his head.

"I know what you're trying to say. You're trying to say this is a mistake and that you're an innocent man. That's why you're here, with the good doctor, instead of in a jail," Johnston said, leaning close to Nathaniel's face and lowering his voice. "You see, you will never meet a man more loyal to his king and country than me. But the courts these days are rather toothless. You would spend a few weeks in jail and then walk out free after a quick trial. It would be your word against the word of a whore and yet another pirate would escape justice, free to enjoy the spoils of his crimes without consequence."

Johnston straightened himself up and looked down his nose at Nathaniel. "But I know the truth. I take Tabitha at her word, she's never lead me wrong yet. I know honest sailors do not come by hundreds of crowns, I know those cuts on your arms are from a blood oath meant to secure your silence."

Nathaniel watched as Johnston turned and walked away, quickly disappearing from Nathaniel's limited view. He heard Johnston speak one last time, "The doctor will take care of you now. He has some rather interesting ideas and needs subjects to test them on, and I am happy to provide him with what he needs in the form of men too slippery for the law to hold. Chances are you'll die like everyone else I've brought but maybe he'll learn something from you, some good will come from your existence in the end."

Boots walking up wooden stairs and a door slamming signaled that Nathaniel was alone with the old man.

"Now we may begin our important work, yes?" the old man said, patting Nathaniel gently on the arm. He began to putter around the small room and wheeled a metal canister next to the wooden table, attaching a hose coming out of the top of the canister to the tube in Nathaniel's mask.

"My good captain tells me you are a pirate, so you would be familiar with Aether," the doctor said as he began carefully adjusting knobs on the cannister and scribbling notes in a black-bound book, speaking in a quiet voice as he worked. "Bit of a misnomer, that. Aether was first discovered while searching for the substance that the natural philosophers believe fills the space between the heavenly bodies, providing the medium for the heat and light of the sun to travel through."

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The doctor pulled a chair next to Nathaniel and sat down. "This gas likely isn't the heavenly medium but the name stuck around. It is truly a miraculous substance, truly miraculous. It took decades for the feeble minds of our race to grasp its potential and learn to produce it in practical quantities. Not only does it possess exceptional lifting force when heated, its lifting force increases when compressed. Compressed!"

The doctor raised his hands and Nathaniel could hear him slapping his legs. "Absolutely defied all the laws the natural philosophers had claimed to discover about the nature of gasses and buoyancy and the like. It revolutionized the world, powering machines and allowing the construction of great ships to master the sky. Without those new machines, many would have died in the years following the Great War, with so few Callers surviving to bless the crops and preserve their yields."

Nathaniel could hear a metallic squeaking sound. A bitter, metallic scent filled his nostrils. His heart began to pound in his chest and he struggled in vain against his restraints. The doctor, ignoring him, continued.

"However, I think there is more to Aether than powering machines and floating ships. I believe that this gas is the distilled essence of life itself. Now, now, I know what you're thinking. Aether causes those exposed to it to develop lesions and tumours and an early death. But think of how it's made, coaxed from decaying plant and animal matter by Callers like myself. What could it be if not the animating force, concentrated? Kings and queens and generals have their lives extended through the rituals we callers perform for them, enjoying years donated by loyal subjects."

The doctor stood up and began pacing the room. "I believe that the gas could be the secret of long life, perhaps even immortality, for everyone, not just a few powerful individuals. If I am correct, I simply need to discover the correct mixture of gas. The difference between poison and medicine is the dose, as it is said. Aether causes terrible illness in those exposed to it but if I am correct I simply need to expose you to it slowly. Think of a man who eats too much, too quickly after being starved. Or a man consumed by drink! He regularly consumes such quantities of spirits as to kill other men and suffers terribly when deprived of drink. I just need to get the mixture right..." the doctor trailed off, eyes distant.

The doctor once again patted Nathaniel on the arm. "Try to get some rest, now. The restraints are quite secure, struggling will only wear you out."

Nathaniel was left alone, only a faint hiss from the Aether canister could be heard. He was exhausted and his head hurt. There were no windows in this small room so he had no way to tell how much time passed. He drifted in an out of consciousness. He fought to stay awake, his dreams were filled the familiar nightmares of the people he had killed over the years. Screaming, crying, groaning, bleeding. Sometimes he saw Tabitha's face, cruel and filled with contempt for him. Other times he saw her smiling, laughing, looking up at him from her bed, eyes full of passion. This hurt more than the hatred. Nathaniel was used to being hated, he had seen hateful eyes too many times to count, heard every manner of curse. Tabitha was the only kind face he could remember seeing since he was forced onto a Royal Navy vessel a lifetime ago.

Would it hurt less if it had been anyone else? If he was awaiting execution in a jail, caught by the port authorities or overcome in a battle in the sky, would he be more accepting of his fate? Nathaniel wept, alone in the dark room, from his feelings of helplessness and impotent rage but also from his changing feelings for Tabitha. One moment his chest would burn with anger as he cursed her betrayal, wishing he had simply gone east by himself to the capital, past the mountains and leaving Tabitha as nothing more than a pleasant memory to look back on. The next moment he cursed himself for revealing his past to her, perhaps if he had told her he won the money gambling or saved it by thrifty living he could convince her and they would be on their way to a new life together.

His breathing became laboured, a tingling began in his fingers and toes and crept slowly up his limbs. He was feeling lightheaded, his throat hurt and coughing did nothing to remove the irritation. Occasionally the doctor would enter the room but no longer spoke to Nathaniel, merely examining his body and scribbling notes before leaving.

There was no way to tell how much time had passed, it felt like an eternity. Every breath was a struggle. Nathaniel could no longer feel the table under his back, even his thoughts were sluggish. A coughing fit took him, his body convulsed as much as his restraints would allow, then he exhaled and lay still. Nathaniel felt like he was falling, not just down but away from everything. He heard a voice, faintly, but the words meant nothing to him. "Five parts per hundred mixture still too high. Next subject will start at four parts" and then he fell into utter nothingness.