Agatha H. and the Airship City

CHAPTER 9

Agatha struggled, but it was hopeless. Every limb was secured by several of the Slaver warriors. Before her, Gilgamesh thrashed wildly, but to no avail. Two of the creatures delicately inserted their barbed spear-like forearms into his mouth and slowly forced it open. Gil’s eyes rolled frantically, but his head was held tight. Agatha realized that despite the fact that they were being clasped tightly by a multitude of the sharp-edged creatures, they were not being harmed. “They want us healthy enough to defend the Queen,” she realized with a sick feeling.

Above their heads, the first of the mind-controlling drones swooped downwards towards Gil’s open gullet. With a final futile shudder, Agatha felt herself begin to panic. “Let us GO!” she screamed.

Several things happened at once. The assembled slavers froze, and Agatha felt the pressure upon her arms and legs begin to relax, when a glittering orb darted through the air and, with a small electrical burst, fried the small flying Slaver just as it was about to dive into Gil’s mouth. The orb hovered, revealing itself as one of Agatha’s small clanks, held aloft by a furiously spinning propeller. Suddenly a carpet of the diminutive clanks poured into the room and began attacking the remaining Slaver wasps, who seemed nonplussed at the nature of this new enemy, and began to skitter away in confusion, releasing their captives.

Gil scooped up his sword and began laying about with it, dropping every insect within reach. He noticed Agatha standing with a perplexed look on her face. “Come on,” he yelled as he plucked up her sword and put it into her hand. “We’re lucky those little clanks of yours showed up to distract them. This must be an old engine. That’s a bit of luck! The Slaver swarm should have been huge—and fast! We’ve got to try to destroy the Queen before she can generate any more of them!”

With that he swung away and fried another dozen warriors, who having a more traditional enemy in front of them, were once more beginning to attack, but, Agatha noticed, in a hesitant, half-hearted manner.

“They let us go… when I told them to,” she whispered. The idea was patently absurd, but…

“You!” Agatha directly addressed a group of wasps that were drawn up before the massive Queen. “Stand aside.”

Gil had his back to her, and was engaged by several foes, so he merely obeyed her and stepped aside. Thus he didn’t see the group that Agatha addressed dipping their heads and reluctantly drawing back, until they had opened an empty corridor between Agatha and the Queen.

Agatha stared blankly for a second, shook herself, grabbed Gil by the upper arm and yelled, “It’s clear!”

Gil spun about and, although he was clearly taken aback by the sight before him, responded to Agatha’s tug on his arm. The two of them leapt forward, reached the base of the Queen, and as she swung her massive head towards them, sank both of their swords deep within the pulsating flesh.

As they pulled their hands back, the flesh quivered and smoked and the entire creature began to squeal and jerk spasmodically, ripping loose cable and smashing bits of imbedded machinery until, with a final snap, it crashed to the floor, flattening a phalanx of soldier wasps and buckling the deck beneath it.

Agatha and Gil stared at the dead behemoth. It began to slowly deflate. The warrior insects were frozen in place, not even defending themselves against the continued attacks of the small clanks.

Agatha felt an upwelling of emotion unlike any she’d ever felt. A great wave of exultation flooded through her and it felt like every part of her body was electrified. She realized that Gil still had his arm around her shoulders, and with a growl she pulled him towards her and fiercely kissed him. Gil’s initial astonishment caused him to hesitate, but the urgency of her lips upon his quickly caused him to wrap his arms around her in a crushing embrace and return the kiss with interest. Agatha felt as if a ball of fire was expanding outwards from her chest. The sensations coming from her lips, chest and head almost caused her to pass out from excitement. They broke, panting and wild-eyed, still clutching each other. They looked questioningly at one another for several seconds, then Agatha closed her eyes and pulled him back towards her—

A liquid noise caused them to freeze, lips scant millimeters apart. They swiveled their heads in time to see a section of the Queen’s corpse beginning to swell alarmingly. With a sound like bubbling oatmeal, the large swelling burst, releasing a swarm of angrily buzzing Slaver wasps.

“Run!” They yelled in unison and pelted off down the hallway.

“What do we do now?” Agatha asked.

“What DO we do now?” Gil panted, “What was my father thinking? What would he—” He grabbed Agatha and dragged her off in another direction. “Of course!”

“Of course…?” she prompted. They entered another short corridor off the main room. It was lined with small, identical metal panels. Gil handed Agatha his sword.

“My father would have a fail-safe here. It’ll be disguised but…” He began counting off squares. Several wasps buzzed around the corner and accelerated when they saw the two Sparks. Behind them Agatha could hear the clattering rustle of the warrior wasps approaching. By frantically waving her sword back and forth, Agatha caught the two wasps in midair, and they exploded and dropped, smoking, to the deck.

As they hit, Gil finished his calculations, and snapped off a metal panel that appeared no different from its neighbors. Beneath it was a control panel with several levers and the legend “VESPIARY CONTROL.”

Hitting the first switch caused a steel door to roll down into place. Unfortunately, two of the warriors scuttled under the descending door and approached, saberlike arms at the ready.

Gil assayed them coolly. “The entirety of the lab should be sealed,” he told Agatha as he reached for the second switch. “And this one will flood it with gas.” Just as he was about to hit the switch, Agatha’s hand stopped him. “Wait! Somebody activated that Engine on purpose.” She tossed Gil the swords. “Let me look at this first.”

Gil made a moue of annoyance, but quickly turned to dispose of the warrior bugs. As the swords connected, Agatha was astonished to see Gil apparently blink out of existence. She was only slightly less astonished when it happened again.

She was about to speak when something caught her eye in the machinery before her. By the time Gil appeared at her side, she was halfway into the opening.

“Anything?” he ventured.

“Oh yes,” Agatha’s voice came from within the depths of the wall. “This gas line has been rerouted, to what I think must be the main ventilator for this area.” With a delightful wiggle she extricated herself, and held up a small valve in a grimy hand. “Everything on this level except the hive’s lab would have got the poison.” She dropped the valve into Gil’s hand. “It should be okay now.”

Gil nodded and threw the second switch. Within the walls, pipes boomed and a great roaring was heard.

“He didn’t even check my work,” Agatha thought to herself, and a warm feeling filled her that was almost entirely unconnected to the sight of white gas gushing from vents in the room outside, and the subsequent death throes of the assembled bugs.

Gil moved up behind Agatha. She felt the heat that rolled off him, and smelled his sweat. She was very much aware of his hand gingerly hovering above her shoulder. She knew that all she had to do was lean into it, and he’d never remove it. She shivered in anticipation, swayed gently—and they both jumped as a warrior slammed into the window before crashing to the deck.

Agatha looked at Gil, but the moment was gone. “Looks like it worked,” she said lamely.

Gil cleared his throat and nodded. “Yes…” A puzzled look eased its way onto his face. “You know, from everything I’ve learned about Slaver wasps—I would have thought defeating them would have been more difficult.”

Agatha considered this. “Maybe because it was an old engine.”

Gil frowned and then reluctantly nodded. “Makes sense.” His face brightened. “At least my father will have an easy time mopping up.”

The hanger bay was a charnel house. The Wulfenbach forces laid about with a desperate ferocity, but the wasps were quicker and more ferocious than any they had ever encountered. Klaus stepped back from a smoking wasp to access the situation as he levered a fresh round of radium bullets into the chambers of his ancient pistol.

To his right, Boris kept any wasps from approaching, his four swords weaving an impassable wall of glittering death. To his left General Zog was using the mangled form of a warrior wasp as a flail to beat back others, while roaring orders to the hoard of Jägermonsters that fought before them. Those with weapons used them with a deadly precision that, to someone who had only seen the monster soldiers clowning around, would have been terrifying. Those without weapons used their teeth and claws so effectively that one questioned why they bothered to use weapons at all. Beside them fought the Lackya, still adorned in their long, elegant coats, but they moved like lightning, and dealt death with an elegant precision. Standing like pillars amidst the swarms of insects were a row of the great mechanical soldiers, wielding giant claymores almost three meters long that swept back and forth, destroying dozens of wasps with each swipe. Striding amongst the bugs were an eclectic sampling of the Spark-spawned creations that Klaus had collected and sworn into the service of the House of Wulfenbach over the years. Rumbletoys spun and smashed bugs wherever they moved, Radioheads crushed and pounded wherever their diminutive masters directed them, and deep within the enemies midst moved the Dreen, two unearthly, terrifying creatures garbed in dark, wide-brimmed conical hats and long, obscuring veils. They killed with but a touch, and they alone seemed to scare the Slaver wasps. Everywhere they drifted, a circle of emptiness opened around them as wasps desperately tried to escape.

The destruction the Wulfenbach forces were dealing was horrific, but to Klaus’ eye the story of the battle was inescapable. He glanced at General Zog with a look of inquiry. The general bared his teeth in a fierce grimace and growled. “Dis iz not goink vell.”

“FALL BACK!” Klaus roared.

Gil touched a switch and the metal door rolled back into the ceiling. “I suppose my father will be sorry that he missed all the excitement,” he sighed. A glint caught his eye, and he stepped behind Agatha. “Wait. You have something in your hair.” His fingers ran through her tresses and he briefly marveled at its delicate smoothness before he encountered the object he sought. He dropped it into Agatha’s hand.

It was a small circular piece of shiny silver metal. Agatha looked at it blankly, then her face cleared. “Ah. It’s some sort of connector from the gas system. It’s kind of pretty.”

Gil nodded as he plucked it from her hand. “Yes. It’s perfect.” With that he gently but firmly took Agatha’s left hand and slid the connector over her ring finger. “Here. A little souvenir.”

Agatha felt herself flushing as she took her hand back. Selfconsciously she re-examined her hand. The connector was stamped with a tiny little Wulfenbach House sigil. She felt a wave of joy beginning to fizzle upwards through her body. She was so happy that she almost missed that Gil was talking.

“Now come on. As pitiful as they are, the rest of the wasps should keep my father busy for a while.” He slipped her arm through his, and turned towards the exit. “We can grab one of the support gigs, sail down to the nearest town and be married before he even knows that we’re gone.”

Agatha stopped so suddenly that Gil, still hooked through her arm, found himself spun around to face her. Agatha’s face was blank. “Married?”

Gil patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. He won’t be mad once he finds out that you’re a Spark! He’s talking about marrying me off anyway—it’ll serve him right when I run off and do it on my own.”

Agatha gazed upwards into Gil’s excited face. Her lips parted and she burst out laughing. This was not the reaction Gil had expected and he looked surprised. “What?”

Agatha took a moment to wipe the tears off the inside of her glasses as she continued to giggle. Finally she took a deep breath, and smiled. “That’s the worst marriage proposal I have ever heard.”

Gil swallowed. “You… get a lot of them?”

Agatha crossed her arms. “You want to marry me to annoy your father?” She sighed dramatically and theatrically raised her hand to her brow. “How romantic.”

These were unknown waters for Gil, but he was smart enough to realize that by flailing desperately enough, he might still come through.

“NO! No! No!” He waved his hands frantically. Agatha cocked an eyebrow. Still interested. Good.

“I… I know we haven’t known each other long. But I really think we’d be very well suited… for each other.”

Glance. Eyebrow down. Not good. Panic.

“Look—I’ve known a lot of girls and they were—” At this point Gil could feel hereto for unused parts of his brain screaming at him to shut up. He didn’t even bother to look at her now. “No. Wait! That’s unimportant!” What is important?

He looked at Agatha. She stood there, outlined in early morning light coming in through the window. Her hair was the most magnificent reddish gold he had ever seen. He took in the entirety of her and realized that he wanted to hold her in his arms and never ever let her go, and then he looked once again into those dazzling green eyes and knew that if he could spend the rest of his life watching them experience the things he could show them, then his life would be complete, and more importantly, that without her, his life would be forever empty and bereft of purpose. For the rest of Gilgamesh’s life, whenever he thought of Agatha, the first and most enduring image, the one that was burned into his heart, was this one, where she stood and looked at him and listened to him babble and tried to decide whether he would live or die.

With this realization, a great clarity washed through him and he realized that if he wanted her, all he had to do was tell her why. His mouth finally got the message and snapped shut in mid-burble.

He straightened up and looked Agatha full in the face. Agatha blinked and uncrossed her arms. Gil stepped closer.

“Agatha, I—”

“Ha-HA!” There was a swoosh, a blur of gold, and a “Gloof!” from Agatha. And she was gone.

Gil spun around and saw Agatha being carried off by Othar Tryggvassen, who was effortlessly swinging through the air on a long cable. “HEY!” he yelled.

Othar gracefully turned, and he and Agatha landed atop a ceiling girder. She twisted out of his grasp. “Do you mind?” She hissed, “I was busy here!”

From the floor Gil called up frantically. “Agatha! Get away from him!”

“What’s the matter, Wulfenbach?” Othar called back jovially. “Didn’t expect a hero to rescue the damsel from your unwelcome advances?”

Gil shook his fist. “They weren’t unwelcome, you idiot!”

Agatha shoved forward. “Just a minute! I’m not done yelling at you yet!”

Othar gently pulled her back from the edge. “Well, yes you are.” He reached into his side holster and pulled forth a bizarre little steam pistol. “We’ve got to go.” He aimed the gun at Gil: “And he’s got to die.”

Just as he fired, Agatha grabbed his arm and yanked with all her might. This threw Othar off balance and he swayed precipitously on the edge of the girder. Below, the bullet smacked into the wall centimeters from Gil’s head. With a grimace, Gilgamesh ducked down into the maze of machinery and was lost to sight.

Othar sighed. “Drat.” He turned to Agatha. “He got away… for the moment.”

Agatha stood braced for Othar’s fury. “I won’t let you—”

He wagged a gently admonishing finger in her face. “You should be more careful. You could have fallen. You’re lucky I caught you.”

The events of the last twenty seconds replayed in Agatha’s mind. “But you didn’t—”

“I hope you’re not going to be one of those clumsy girl sidekicks who always need rescuing during my final showdown with the

villain,” Othar remarked.

“I AM NOT YOUR SIDEKICK!”

Othar laughed. “Of course you are! You came to rescue me!”

“If I’d known you were going to run around trying to shoot people who were proposing to me—!”

“Oh that was just the once.” The sheer number of things that Agatha wanted to say to this, temporarily overwhelmed her ability to speak. Othar, unfortunately, did not have this problem. “Now, your innocence does you credit, but you’ll soon learn that Evil deserves no pity! And young Wulfenbach is certainly evil.”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Clueless I’ll give you, but—”

Her words were left behind as Agatha herself was swept off the girder by Gilgamesh swinging through on his own cable. They lightly touched down on an adjoining girder. “If being like you is the alternative,” Gil remarked to Othar, as he relinquished his grip on the cable, “then I’ll gladly take being evil.”

The released cable vanished into the dimness of the ceiling, followed by several squeaks and a faint fwap. This caused Othar to pause and peer upwards into the darkness, which may have been why he missed seeing the beam which swung down from the side, caught him square in the ribs and smashed him through the plate glass wall and into open space. As he arced downwards, they heard him admonish them with a final declaration of “Foul!” before he vanished into the cloudscape below.

Agatha rushed over to the window and stared down in shock. “You threw him out of the airship,” she cried. “I went to all that trouble to rescue him and you’ve killed him!”

“But he was shooting—” Gil realized this was a futile line of argument and switched tactics. “He’ll be fine. I’ve seen him survive worse.” Agatha looked at him incredulously. “Trust me. When you get to know him better, you’ll want to throw him out a window yourself.”

As he spoke Gil casually slipped off a shoe and with a moment’s calculation tossed it down into the machinery below. It hit a lever and a winch began to creak, lowering a hook on a large chain past their girder. Gil casually looped his arm around Agatha’s waist, snagged the chain and they held each other tightly as they headed for the distant deck below.

“I occasionally want to throw any number of people out a window—” Agatha said looking significantly at Gil—”But I control myself.”

But Gil wasn’t listening. “Uh-huh. Forget eloping.”

Agatha blinked. “Oh. But—”

“We’re going straight to my father. I’ll have him announce that you are, in effect, married to me already.”

The thudding of their feet upon the deck broke Agatha’s shocked silence. She ripped herself free of Gil’s arm. “How dare you? What do you think—?”

“Any number of people are going to try to grab you. So the sooner the world sees that you are mine, the safer you’ll be.” Gil calmly retrieved his shoe and slipped it back on. He turned back to Agatha and froze. Agatha’s fury poured off of her like a physical force, and it took all of his strength not to step back. Every instinct he possessed warned him that he was close to death and he frantically tried to figure out why.

“I am not your personal property, or Othar’s!”

“I know that! But you’re going to wind up someone’s personal property unless we act now!”

“I thought the Baron outlawed slavery.”

Gil rolled his eyes. “You’ve never been outside Beetleburg. You couldn’t understand—”

“Don’t assume I’m too stupid to understand—explain it to me!”

Gil reeled as if he’d been struck. His shoulders slumped. “You’re right.”

Agatha had been prepared for more arguing. She paused, and released the lungful of air she’d gathered. Encouraged by her silence. Gil continued: “The reason I… I like you is because you’re smart. I should treat you that way. Explain why I think this is in your best interest, as well as my own.” Agatha raised her eyebrows encouragingly.

A small explosion shuddered somewhere in the distance. Gil’s eyes hardened. “But I’m afraid I simply don’t have the time.” Agatha’s eyes widened in shock as Gil took her wrist in a grip like iron. “You’ll come with me now, and I’ll explain—”

A massive fist came down and connected to the top of Gil’s head with a meaty BONK, and he collapsed to the deck.

“Was this boy bothering you, dear?”

“Lilith!” Agatha shouted. “Adam!” For it was indeed her parents standing before her. To her surprise she saw that they were garbed in coveralls, peppered with small pockets carrying tools and useful bits of gear. The outfits appeared to be rather old and well-used, though Agatha was sure that she’d never seen them before. She looked down at Gilgamesh sprawled out at her feet. “You hit him.”

The burly construct allowed himself a self-satisfied smile. But Lilith noticed the concern in Agatha’s voice. “He’ll be fine, dear.” A touch of concern appeared on her face. “Who is he?”

Agatha leaned down and shifted Gil slightly so that his head was at a less awkward angle. “Gilgamesh Wulfenbach,” she informed them. “He… um… wants me to marry him.” A look of shock passed between the two constructs. Agatha continued, “In fact, he kind of insists.”

Seconds later Agatha found herself tucked under Adam’s massive arm while her step-parents were running down a corridor. “So you don’t think I should then?”

“We’re leaving,” Lilith informed her. “Right now!”

Agatha looked out the window at the flotilla of airships that attended the Castle. “How?” She thought for a second. “And how did you get here?”

“We’ve been following the Castle from the ground. We were planning on hijacking one of the regular supply ships, but today there was a flurry of activity, with dozens of ships bringing people to the ground.” They came to a massive bulkhead door which had been sealed. Lilith began spinning dials.

“There was an evacuation of the labs,” Agatha explained. “There was an accident with a Slaver Engine.”

Lilith froze on hearing this and then, without further ado, simply ripped the massive door out of its frame. “We commandeered a pinnace and we’ll leave the same way.”

They found themselves in an enormous, dimly lit chamber lined with pumps slowly thumping away on either side. “But this place is huge,” Agatha observed. “How did you manage to find me?”

Lilith shrugged. “We have done this sort of thing before, dear. We just looked for the center of chaos and there you were.” She shook her head. “We knew something like this would happen if your locket was removed.”

Agatha’s hand automatically went to the empty place near her throat. “My locket?”

Adam and Lilith looked at each other. Adam shrugged, and Lilith nodded. “You started to break through at a very early age—”

“You knew I was a Spark?”

Lilith nodded. “Your uncle made the locket specifically to keep you from breaking through completely.”

“But I was so stupid! How could you let me live like that?”

“We were hiding you!” Lilith answered hotly. “Young Sparks never survive without powerful protection! If they don’t blow themselves up or get killed by their creations, they’re likely to go mad and kill everyone around them.”

They turned a corner and Agatha began to note signs of the fighting. Smoke drifted through the air, and a single dead wasp warrior lay crushed beneath a gas cylinder that had obviously been taken from a stack of same that lined the wall. Lilith grimaced, and continued: “Your uncle was gone. Beetle wasn’t strong enough, and the Baron would have taken you instantly.” She broke off and caught Agatha’s eye. “And you don’t ever want that.”

Agatha opened her mouth to question, but Lilith plowed on. “In the country you would have been killed by the peasantry. Even burned as a Witch. Plus you’re a girl. Girls with the Spark, they usually just disappear. Even the Baron’s people have noticed that there’s a disproportionately low number of them, but they don’t know why. Every power in Europe is going to try to kill you or control you. You’ve already seen that with young Wulfenbach.”

“But I don’t understand,” Agatha cried. “There are a lot of Sparks wandering about. Why would I be in so much danger?”

Lilith stopped dead in front of the door. Her head briefly slumped forward enough that it rested on the cool metal surface.

“I suppose there’ll never be a good time…” she muttered. She looked at Agatha. “Your family. We never told you.” She leaned on the door, which, surprisingly, was unlocked, and began to creak open. “You’re the daughter of—”

The opening door revealed a large room lined with galleries extending several stories upwards. The room was filled with people, constructs and clanks. They all turned towards the opening door, revealing, at the center of the crowd, none other than the Baron himself.

Silence spread, until Klaus, his eyes wide in surprise at the figure in the doorway, stepped forward. “Judy?” he whispered.