Pieter pushed the heavy wooden door open and winced at the cold that met him. Thorne had insisted that he move his lab but he was too content with the dark dankness of the dungeon that he could not resist its consolation. He set the basket of supplies down and activated the special black lighting system, illuminating two long trestle tables and a host of tubes, beakers and Bunsen burners arranged in scientific fashion.
Three different colors of liquids boiled in the glass tubes: dark red, dark blue and icy green and all swirled, then mingled by slow drip into a tall, thin test tube. It was to this tube that he hurried, his brow furrowing in concentration as he twisted the stopper closed and stoppered the tube, lifting it carefully from the steel holder. The fluid moved slowly, thickly coating the smooth glass and inching its way into the purple light.
Pieter held his breath.
The liquid crept into the luminescence and began to bubble.
The housekeeper's shoulders slouched in recognition of the defeat and he flung the tube across the room in anger. He had been so close, so close to discovering Beauregard's Solution … if only he could perfect it! He'd read all the old texts and scoured the journals and yet, the equation was still elusive, floating just outside of the reach of his intellect, taunting him with each failure.
His thoughts turned to Thorne and to the woman he loved. If he could create the Solution, he would be able to give the young man what he craved: a normal life. Beauregard's Solution would cure the hunger pangs, would ease the allergy to natural light and would allow progeny to be born virus-free. Thorne would still need to feed but at a greatly reduced rate of twice a year. He could marry and bear children. He could swim in the currents of the salty ocean. And he could witness the birth of a new day.
Pieter sighed and as if in a stupor, shuffled over to the end table, selected a shiny scalpel from the tray and neatly opened the vein on his left wrist, the blood puddling, then dripping into the sanitized beaker.
Back to the beginning …