“Now, Ms. Hawke, I need you to concentrate and try to recall a memory for me,” Simon said. “If you are here in Haversham, is it safe to assume the rest of your tribe is here as well?”
Mattie sat down on the edge of the bed and shook her head. “I honestly don’t know.”
Simon knelt in front of her and took both her hands in his. “I know this is difficult. I’ve been in very similar circumstances recently. Right now, however, I need you to break through whatever fog remains in your mind and search for those memories.”
She nodded. “I’ll try.”
Mattie closed her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered, and her brow creased with concentration. Simon flinched as she squeezed his hands tightly, as though battling through mental anguish.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, I remember. He loaded us like cattle onto the back of a trailer and brought us back to the city. We were patrolling the streets, looking for the two of you.” Her eyes flew open. “They’re here, in Haversham. That means we can find them and free them as well, correct?”
Luthor crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. “We can, but it won’t be quite as easy as freeing you.”
She let go of Simon’s hands and looked toward the apothecary. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t it be as easy?”
Luthor shrugged. “Because we’re not dealing with a single demon-enthralled individual; we’re dealing with a large, hostile group. I seriously doubt we’ll be able to subdue so large a group and convince them to drink the concoction. I’m sorry, Mattie, but I just don’t know how to free them without addressing them individually and, forgive me, but your pack mentality doesn’t lend itself toward finding too many of them alone.”
“I was alone,” Mattie corrected.
“Indeed,” Simon interrupted, “but I believe that’s a side effect of your personality rather than a fluke. When you’re under Gideon’s servitude, who you are isn’t overwritten by the demon’s power. He manipulates parts of your personality, bending the whole to his will. You were by yourself because, dare I say it, you wanted to catch us alone, rather than as part of the pack?”
Mattie glanced toward Luthor, who arched his eyebrows inquisitively.
“There has to be a solution,” she begged. “We can’t leave them as his slaves.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Luthor said, “but I just don’t know another solution.”
“There’s always another solution, my good man,” Simon remarked with a knowing smile.
“What are you getting at, sir?”
Simon stood from his kneeling position before Mattie and walked over to his chair before sitting again. “The werewolves are here in Haversham, which means that our original plan B is no longer a lost cause.”
“It was plan C, if it’s all the same,” Luthor replied. “Though need I remind you that this whole discussion is still a moot argument? The werewolves may be here in town, but they’re hardly our friends. Truth be told, they weren’t our friends before falling under Gideon’s sway. Now instead of merely distrusting and disliking us, they’re actively trying to kill us.”
“Semantics,” Simon said dismissively with a wave of his hand. “They will help us if we can free them.”
“Which, bringing the argument full circle, is impossible. We lack the time and abilities necessary to subdue and convert them one at a time.”
Mattie politely raised her hand, interrupting the growing back and forth between the two men.
“Yes, Mattie?” Simon asked.
“Gideon Dosett converted us as a group; the whole pack in a single metaphorical wave of his hand. Can’t we do the same to release them from his spell? Perhaps we could spray them with the liquid as though from a hose?”
Simon shook his head. “If my understanding of Luthor’s brew is correct, and feel free to correct me if I’m not, the concoction has to be absorbed within the body. A spray would soak the skin but hardly enough would get into their mouths or absorbed through the mucus membranes of the eyes and nose. It would be an exercise in futility.”
Luthor shrugged apologetically. “He’s quite right, unfortunately. It has to be fully absorbed within the body. Ingestion seems to be the most effective technique.”
Simon sat upright, his face breaking into a broad smile. “It’s the most effective technique we’ve considered to date, and that’s only because we’ve had no need for a more effective delivery system.”
Luthor pushed away from the wall and walked toward the bed. “I know that look all too well, sir. What are you getting at?”
“The chemicals have to be properly absorbed in the body, correct?”
Luthor nodded. “They do.”
“Is fluid intake truly the most effective way to introduce a chemical into the blood stream?”
Luthor frowned. “Sir, you know I hate when you ask questions the answers to which you already know. Please do get to the point.”
“My point, dear chap, is that there is a far more effective way to introduce foreign chemicals into the body: through a gas. Inhaled through the mouth and nostrils, a gas is absorbed directly into the membranes of both the nose and lungs, transmitting quickly and efficiently directly into the blood stream. In this case, carried rapidly to the brain to… well, to do whatever it is your strange brew does when it destroys Gideon’s tenuous hold over his thralls.”
“It’s brilliant,” Luthor said, though the sarcasm was evident in his voice.
Mattie looked back and forth between the two men as though observing an intense tennis match.
“You don’t approve?” Simon asked.
“It’s not that I don’t approve, sir, it’s merely that we lack any way to deliver an aerosolized version of my liquid. In order to do so, we would need some sort of contraption that could take a liquid state and turn it into a gas. Unless I’ve greatly misjudged you, sir, we lack both the tools and the skills necessary to do something of the sort.”
“The skills, yes,” Simon said excitedly, climbing from his chair. “The tools, however, we might just have. In order to aerosolize a liquid, you would need pressurized canisters with some sort of hose work through which you could transmit the gas, correct?”
“Fine, I’ll pull on this string and see where it leads. Yes, sir, you would need pressurized canisters.”
“Tell me, Luthor, where have we seen pressurized canisters, mounted to backpacks, with already designed spraying capabilities?”
Luthor opened his mouth with a rude retort before being struck by a recent memory. “The flamethrowers.”
“The flamethrowers,” Simon confirmed. “The same ones they use to melt the thick layers of ice from the zeppelin docks and the doors leading in and out of the city. We have the tools readily available.”
“And the skills to modify the flamethrower?”
Simon smiled broadly. “I believe Mr. Orrick would have the skills necessary to convert the flamethrower.”
“And he just happens to be standing guard at the telegraph office,” Luthor concluded.
Mattie cleared her throat politely. “Do either of you realize how disturbing it is to see grown men finishing one another’s thoughts?”
Both men looked at her as though surprised she was still in the room.
“I understood next to nothing of what you just said,” she continued, “except that it appears we have a way ahead, correct?”
“Yes,” Luthor replied, “and yet at the same time, a resounding no. We may know where Mr. Orrick is, but that hardly answers our other conundrum from earlier about how to subdue six men without lethal means. Did we not discuss that we couldn’t do it alone?”
“Then it’s a good thing we’re no longer alone,” Simon said, turning toward Mattie. “Tell me, how are you feeling? Are you feeling up for a fight?”
Mattie stretched her wounded shoulder and nodded. “If it means freeing my people, then I’m ready to help however necessary.”
“Then it’s settled. We’ll leave tonight, co
llect Mr. Orrick, send the telegram, steal a flamethrower, create an aerosolized version of your concoction, and free the werewolves.” Simon sighed. “We have a busy night ahead of us.”
“I know where to find a flamethrower,” Mattie offered. “We saw a collection of them when Gideon brought us into the city.”
“Excellent,” Simon remarked. “That’s one less thing on our list.”
“We should get some rest between now and then,” Luthor offered, stifling a yawn.
“Indeed we should,” Simon agreed.
He started to return to his chair when Mattie stood, tapping Simon gently on the shoulder. As the Inquisitor turned, she swung her open hand, slapping him solidly on the face. Simon staggered, catching himself on the headboard of the bed.
“That was for shooting me, you ass!” she said, storming off toward the other side of the room.
Luthor suppressed a laugh as he walked after Mattie. “Yes, sir, I will be adding this moment to your list of private ridicules.”