Just This Once, This One Time Only

"What?" Kraft failed to follow Lucius's train of thought. His mind was still stuck on how quickly the surgery had to be done, and he hadn't caught up.

"I mean Lecturer Romolo was wrong. He knows a lot about Humorism and pharmacology, but that was in the past."

Lucius glanced at the doorway again. He didn't want to say it outright; this should be enough for Kraft to understand what he meant.

Yes, according to traditional Humorism, the only way to make someone lose consciousness was to drain away their Red Fluid or White Fluid. That was true, of course. But wasn't there a fluid they'd never managed to find?

He raised a hand in front of Kraft. Just a few days ago, it had still been dotted with red marks left behind by a reckless experiment.

"You mean Black Fluid?" Kraft came to his senses at once. His gaze focused on Lucius's face. "I thought I'd made it clear enough. We shouldn't touch that stuff."

"Why?" Lucius met Kraft's gaze without flinching, as if he wanted to dig out the reason for Kraft's fear of Black Fluid.

Kraft thought Professor Calman's experiment was unreasonable, while Lucius thought Kraft's excessive caution was unjustified.

As far as Lucius was concerned, Black Fluid was perfectly suited to their needs. Just a little diluted solution could render someone unconscious for an entire day. Even the pain of a needle prick couldn't wake them, and afterward they'd have no idea what had happened.

"Because it... isn't safe." Kraft was at a loss for words. Even he couldn't convince himself with that explanation. "We haven't even confirmed that it's really 'Black Fluid,' have we? That's just what we call it, right?"

He couldn't explain to Lucius what his instincts and intuition were telling him. What was he supposed to say? That he'd discovered a tiny amount of liquid connected to something beyond human understanding, and that it could lure living things into touching it? Better to keep that buried. Saying it aloud would only make him seem even less credible.

"We can't rule out the possibility that it might have some nasty effects that only show up over time. Professor Calman said we had to keep it absolutely secret, didn't he?" Kraft added.

By instinct, he felt that its outward effects must have some deeper cause. Until he had a chance to figure it out, he didn't dare expose himself to it any further. He was even willing to invoke Professor Calman to silence Lucius.

Lucius clearly disagreed. He pointed at his own nose. "Only the living get to worry about long-term effects. If I'm not an exception, we won't be discussing that for at least another dozen days."

"I know this isn't the time to bring this great discovery to light, but wasn't the whole point of discovering it to advance medicine? Are we supposed to hide it away and never use it, just to keep it secret?"

Lucius was getting worked up. He'd misunderstood Kraft and thought Kraft's main reason for opposing the idea was the professor's instructions, not his inexplicable fear of Black Fluid.

"No, of course that's not what I mean..." Kraft had never even considered taking the Black Fluid out of the basement again.

When he'd been thinking about anesthesia just now, he'd only considered which anesthetics he knew how to make with the resources they had, or which plants might work as natural anesthetics. It hadn't even occurred to him to consider something labeled "unknown" and "dangerous."

Now that he thought about it, Lucius did have a point.

It provided effective anesthesia for a long time. Pain couldn't wake the patient, and there was no chance of awareness during surgery. Lucius had shown no side effects at all in the dozen or so days since he'd drunk it.

With this, the odds of the surgery succeeding would skyrocket. What had seemed nearly impossible now had a real chance of working.

As for what side effects it might cause later? They could worry about that "later." The worst case was death, but the alternative was dying on the operating table today. The best case was that this dose wasn't enough to trigger any unusual effects—and from what Kraft had observed of Lucius, that seemed entirely possible.

Lucius watched as Kraft's expression gradually softened and his brow relaxed, his tension giving way to thoughtfulness.

"Just once. This one time only," Kraft said. To Lucius, and to himself.

He remembered that night a few days ago, when he'd firmly written in his notebook: "Keep your distance. Keep it contained. Avoid all contact unless absolutely necessary." He hadn't expected "absolutely necessary" to come around so soon.

Kraft sighed. Once this was over, there might be a whole mess of things to clean up again. "How do we explain where it came from? No one could help being curious about something like this."

"Just say it's a family secret remedy," Lucius said without hesitation. "A one-of-a-kind concoction passed down from some distant ancestor. The recipe's been lost, and this is the last dose."

It was a familiar excuse, probably inspired by Kraft's "family medical knowledge," but it was a truly terrible one. A precious family heirloom remedy from a noble household, with the last of it given to a tavern owner's daughter—it would make everyone feel insulted.

"I suggest you think of something else." Kraft pressed a hand to his forehead. "But we can take our time after it's over. For now, let's go mix the diluted solution."

"Together?"

"As quickly as possible. Afterward, we'll still have other things to prepare, and they may be no easier than this."

Wearing the Bird-Beak Masks they'd used last time, the two returned to the secret laboratory. As soon as they entered, Kraft opened the wall cabinet and checked the liquid level in the bottle against the scratch marks. It hadn't changed.

Lucius took an egg-shaped ceramic cup from the lower shelf. This was what they'd used to prepare the diluted solution before.

The cup's wide body and narrow mouth made it difficult to clean, but it kept the liquid inside from sloshing out easily. There was also a small triangular spout-like structure at the rim to make pouring easier.

They filled the cup four-fifths of the way with water and gently rocked it to make sure it wouldn't splash during stirring. All that remained was to dip a small metal rod in a little Black Fluid and add it to the water.

"Use this. Just a little. Don't get so much that a droplet clings to the rod." Lucius handed the small rod to Kraft. "Should we use a bit more? We've only tested it with a needle prick before."

"No. Children aren't just smaller adults, especially when they're only three. Even without reducing the dose, we're already being generous."

Kraft peeled away the wax seal on the bottle, pulled out the stopper, and lowered the thin rod into the small glass bottle, carefully bringing it toward the liquid's surface.

Looking down through the neck of the bottle, he could just make out the liquid resting still at the bottom. Candlelight shone through the glass, only to be swallowed by its surface. The liquid didn't look smooth; instead, it was a profound, lightless black.

It carved an abrupt, stubborn void into his vision, faintly and persistently inviting anyone who looked at it to reach out and touch it.

From this angle, Kraft began to think of it as a deep, shadowy opening, with indistinct sounds coming from the other side. He tightened his grip on the thin rod, feeling as though it would slip from his hand and fall through that entrance into another world.

The tip of the rod pressed against the liquid, breaking through its dark surface and sending out a tiny ripple that vanished in an instant. He misjudged the force and struck the bottom of the bottle, producing a startlingly sharp clink.

"Careful. I don't think it's that sturdy." Lucius moved the ceramic cup onto the table in front of Kraft. For a moment, he'd thought Kraft had punched through the glass bottle.

"Sorry, I slipped." Kraft lifted the rod and shook off the excess Black Fluid inside the bottle. Then he dipped it into the ceramic cup, leaving only an extremely thin film of liquid on it. He stoppered the glass bottle again and sealed the gap around the neck with wax.

"So we just stir it, and that's it?" The metal rod swirled around inside the ceramic cup a few times, and the tiny amount of Black Fluid dissolved completely into the water. Now it was what they needed.

"Right. This stuff dissolves easily in water."

In the candlelight, the water in the cup still looked perfectly clear, with no change in color. There was no way to distinguish it with the naked eye, and none of its original luring sensation remained. It was just an ordinary cup of water.

Yet it had become the key to the world's first anesthetic surgery. Lucius would pour a small sip into the prepared "family" bottle and have Lis drink it all at once, leaving no evidence behind.

The little copper bottle was one of Lucius's collectibles. Set into its body, which was smaller than half a palm, was an ornament that looked a bit like Turquoise. As an "ancient family heirloom," no one in Wenden Port would be bored enough to have it appraised.

"What was this bottle originally meant for?" Kraft habitually reached for his chin as if deep in thought, only to touch the Bird-Beak Mask.

"I bought it to carry spices, but never found the right ones to put in it, so it's been empty ever since." Lucius tilted the ceramic cup and poured what he considered "one sip" into the copper bottle. "I think it's half an antique. I'll use it from now on."

"From now on? There is no 'from now on,' Lucius. Just this once. I swear that if I ever do something this stupid again, I'll stand on my head and drink three cups at the tavern."

"Which one do you mean? Agreeing to take Lis in, or using Black Fluid?" Lucius pressed the little cap onto the copper bottle, finishing his work.

"Hard to say." By rights, he shouldn't have gotten involved in either of them: not taking on a case that could only be resolved through unusual means, nor going against his earlier decision never to touch Black Fluid.

Kraft put the glass bottle and the ceramic cup with its lid back in the wall cabinet, closed the door, and sighed. He'd sighed enough today to last half a month, and he had a feeling he'd be sighing even more in the future.

Things in this world always followed the same rule: either you did something never, or you did it countless times. Saying "just this once" to Lucius was fine, but it wouldn't fool himself.

And nothing ever happened by chance. Everything happened for a reason. If it hadn't been Lis or Lucius, he would sooner or later have encountered another patient who needed surgery, and then thought of what Black Fluid could do.

"I am resolved to do everything in my power to relieve humanity's suffering."

"Hm?" Lucius heard Kraft muttering something under his breath, so faint it was barely audible. The pronunciation and intonation didn't sound like Norse.

"Nothing. Just a vow I made a long time ago." Kraft seemed to have regained some of his resolve. "Don't worry about me. Let's go prepare the other things. If there's a god of medicine, or any other god, they'd better bless me now while there's still time."