Agatha H. and the Airship City

CHAPTER 4

Agatha blinked and stretched. Her mouth tasted metallic. She opened her eyes fully and stared at the ceiling, something was different. The light—

Suddenly a hand roughly clasped itself over her mouth. Her eyes jerked around and saw that the hand belonged to the soldier who had appeared in her father’s shop. A sudden surge of memories, as well as the current situation made her twist and flail about.

Moloch dropped forward, pinning her arms to the bed. “Quiet!” he hissed. “Quiet! I’m not gonna hurt you unless I gotta—but I will if you act stupid!” With this he tightened his grip upon Agatha’s face. Having little choice, she froze, and then sagged. Her eyes stared at Moloch like those of a frightened animal. The hand relaxed slightly. He continued. “Now I’m gonna take my hand away. I’m giving you one chance. Don’t Blow It.”

After a second, he released her face. Agatha licked her lips, but said nothing. Moloch relaxed slightly, but still pinned her arms. Agatha noted that he had been cleaned up, his beard trimmed, and an attempt had been made on his hair, but it was the sort of hair that defeated anything but an all out tonsorial assault.

He was dressed in a large sturdy labcoat, which Agatha realized she had seen on Wulfenbach staffers that had visited the late Dr. Beetle’s lab.

When she still did nothing, Moloch continued. “Good. Now listen. We’ve been taken prisoner by Baron Wulfenbach.”

Agatha frowned. “Why?”

Encouraged by this response, Moloch sat back, allowing Agatha to sit up on the bed and rub her arms. “Because of that clank I’m supposed to have built back in Beetleburg.”

“You built that clank?”

Moloch snorted. “Of course not! But the Baron thinks I did, and I’m not going to tell Baron Wulfenbach that he made a mistake. So I’m his madboy until I can make a break for it.”

Agatha saw the wisdom in this, but—”What does he want you to do?”

Moloch looked up at her with grim humor in his eyes. “He wants me to build him some more clanks. He wants to see what I can do in a real lab with proper materials.”

Agatha cocked an eyebrow and her mouth twitched upwards. “Ho. You do have a problem.”

Moloch observed the smirk and he leaned forward in satisfaction. “We have a problem, sweetheart. He also thinks you’re my little assistant.”

“What!” There was no way Agatha wanted to get involved in anything like this. She leapt up and threw open the door. “Forget it! You can just get out and—”

It was a soft “woo!” from the outer room that brought her up short. Turning her head, she saw that the door opened out into a large common room. Easily two dozen people, mostly children, along with a sprinkling of young adults, were casually gathered around several long tables which were set for a meal. All eyes were riveted upon Agatha. A sudden cool breeze dragged her eyes downward to reveal to her that she was dressed in naught but her underclothes. With a squeak she slammed the door closed and, blushing furiously, turned upon a grinning Moloch.

Grabbing a blanket off of the bed she fumbled with it awkwardly. “Do… do those people know you’re in here alone with me in my underwear?”

Moloch made soothing motions with his hands. “Don’t worry about your reputation.”

Agatha drew herself up. “I most certainly will. I have never—”

Moloch cut her off. “They already think we’re lovers.” The blanket dropped from Agatha’s hands as she swayed in shock. Moloch took the opportunity to survey her critically. “You’re not really my type…” he sighed. “But I guess I’ll just have to fake it.”

“Why should I let anyone think—”

“Because I didn’t build that clank!” Moloch leaned in and whispered triumphantly, “Your father did, didn’t he?”

Agatha rocked back. “My father?”

Moloch nodded. “That was his shop, wasn’t it? Before I woke you up I saw the wheels he’d taken off the tractor, and when you told it to put me down, it did it. It followed your orders.” He paused for a second as an idea hit him: “Did you build it?”

Automatically Agatha answered honestly, “No, but, Adam—”

“No buts. Unless you want me to inform the Baron where he can get a real madboy to take my place… ?”

Agatha looked into his face. “You wouldn’t.”

“I will. Unless we got a deal.”

Agatha stared at him with loathing in her face, but could see no way out. It explained so much. Adam and Lilith had been scared to death of encountering the Baron. Everyone knew that Klaus collected Sparks, when he wasn’t defeating them. The longer she gave them to get away from Beetleburg… “Yes.”

Moloch closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Good.” At that moment Agatha realized how tightly he’d been keeping his fear in check. She felt a flash of sympathy for him. There were numerous stories of innocent people who had come to the attention of those with the Spark. None of them ended well.

Moloch continued, “So, the way the Baron figures it, I’m your boyfriend and I built you that clank because you were mad about the Baron killing this Dr. Beetle guy. You see any loose ends?”

Agatha slipped her glasses on. “Hm. Yes. You had a friend.” The reaction this statement got astonished her.

Moloch wheeled furiously and looked as if he would strike her, but with great effort he held himself in check. “My brother,” he said menacingly. “And we don’t have to worry about him, you saw to that!”

Agatha found herself pressing up against the wall as Moloch advanced towards her. As he talked, he fished around in his pocket. “And if you’ve got any hopes about me going the same way, you can just forget it.” Triumphantly he pulled forth Agatha’s battered locket. “It’s been deactivated!”

“My locket!” Agatha reached for the locket, only to have it snatched away and stuffed back inside Moloch’s coat. “Give it back, you thief!”

Moloch smiled coldly. “Oh no, sister, that’s my ace. You’ll get it back when I leave here safely.”

“What do you mean, it’s been—”

Moloch interrupted her. “Omar was my brother, but he did steal from you and hit you. I’ll admit that. You help me get outta here and we’re square. Mess with me and I’ll have company at the Waxworks, I promise you.” He turned towards the door. “I gotta get going. I’m not even supposed to be here, so…” He thought for a second with his hand on the door handle. He glanced at Agatha and a mischievous smile came to his face. He opened the door and spoke loudly. “Okay, that’s enough kissing for now, doll. I’m glad you’re okay, but give me a chance to rest up and we’ll celebrate properly later!”

With eel-like swiftness he was out of the room and had the door shut before Agatha could reach him. Furious, she yanked open the door and almost collided with a tall reserved-looking man who had obviously been just about to knock. A raised eyebrow was his only comment as to her attire. Quickly she scooted back behind the door and peeked out.

“Miss Agatha Clay?” he enquired with an upper-class British accent. Agatha nodded.

“Good morning. My name is Ardsley Wooster. I have the honor of being Master Gilgamesh Wulfenbach’s man. Now that you are awake, he requests your presence in his laboratory immediately.”

Agatha looked at him with trepidation. “Gilgamesh Wulfenbach? Wants to see me?”

“Yes, Miss. Immediately.”

Agatha looked back into the room and then down at her outfit. “I’m not going out like this. I’m not… not dressed.”

Wooster smiled. “Of course not, Miss. There should be a package containing clothing and toilet articles from your home on the dresser. I shall wait until you are ready.”

Agatha glanced at the dresser. There was nothing there. She quickly surveyed the room. It was about six meters square, and contained two beds, separated by a nightstand, two tall armoires and two dressers. The side she had awoken in was bare, but the other had obvious signs of an occupant. Portraits of aristocratic-looking people and an impressive castle adorned one wall. A rack of fencing foils were hung with a display of awards. An ornate family crest was displayed over the bed, which was covered with a sumptuous quilt. The other dresser was covered with a tasteful array of books and knickknacks.

She turned back towards Wooster. “There’s no package there. I don’t see it anywhere.”

A mild look of consternation flitted across Ardsley’s face. “If I may, Miss?”

Agatha pulled back the door and hid behind it as the man stepped into the room. He quickly scanned the room, stepped around the bed, and opened the armoire. Empty. He bent down and looked under the beds. Nothing. With obvious reluctance he opened the other armoire. It was neatly stacked with clothing and other items, but nothing that could be called a package, and he closed the door without disturbing anything within.

“My apologies, Miss Clay, it appears that your clothing has been… temporarily misplaced. If you will excuse me.” With that he backed out, closing the door as he went.

Less then a minute later there was a soft knock and a redheaded girl poked her head in. She spoke with a faint Irish accent. “Hello. I’m Sleipnir O’Hara. Mr. Wooster here says that you be needing some clothes.”

She stepped into the room. She was wearing a mechanic’s work suit, with a toolbelt around her waist; kneepads, wristbands and a pair of goggles pulled up onto her head completed her outfit. She had an embroidered Chinese robe over her arm. “Your Mr. Wooster reckons that we’re about the same size, so you can borrow something of mine.”

Agatha smiled. “That would be very kind. I’m Agatha Clay.”

As Sleipnir and Agatha shook hands, Sleipnir’s nose wrinkled. “Hm. I’m thinking before we get you dressed, a trip to the showers.”

Agatha looked blank. “What’s a ‘showers’?”

“It’s a kind of bathing system, but without a tub.”

“Oh.” Agatha looked down at herself and flushed with embarrassment. “Need one, do I?”

Sleipnir waved her hand before her nose. “Oh yes.” She handed Agatha the robe. “Here. We’re not all as relaxed about being in our unmentionables as you are. Are you from England, then?”

Agatha reddened down to her chest. “No! I—”

Sleipnir interrupted her. “Whatever you do, don’t let the Von Pinn see you like that.”

“The who?” The two headed out the door, and Agatha’s question went unanswered as a swarm of young children, ranging in age from six to twelve swarmed around her.

“Hey! It’s the new girl! She’s awake!”

“Hello, new girl!”

“She’s stinky.”

“She’s the one who came out naked and you missed it!”

“You’re lying!”

The room itself was long, lined with doors leading to, Agatha assumed, apartments similar to the one she had awoken in. The walls between the rooms were covered in bulletin boards filled with drawings, letters, strange looking objects such as leaves, insects or bizarre tribal masks.

Dividing the room was a large sunken area, which contained the long tables she had seen earlier. Several dark-clothed servants were quietly clearing the plates, aided by what appeared to be older children.

Sleipnir made shooing motions. “Oy! Clear off, you rigger rats! And I’d better not see any of you hanging around the showers or I’ll—”The threat was left unsaid, but the smaller children nodded seriously, except for a slightly older boy who spoke up defiantly. “Or you’ll what? Feed us to the gargoyles?”

Sleipnir leaned in close to him. “Or I’ll tell the Von Pinn that you were peeking into the showers, you dirty little sod.”

Instantly the boy went pale and bolted from the room. Agatha and Sleipnir went down the hall and into a locker room.

“What’s with all the kids?” Agatha asked as she undressed.

Sleipnir leaned against a locker. “They’re students.” Agatha raised an eyebrow. “Hostages, really. You’re one too, you know. We’re mostly the children of the various Great Houses in the Baron’s territory. We’re all supposed to be learning about science and how to administer properly and such. Of course we all know we’re really here to keep our folks in line. So your fella won’t be doing anything stupid because himself ‘s got you safe and snug.”

Agatha paused and considered how much concerns for her safety would be likely to check… at this point Agatha realized that she didn’t even know the man’s name. “That’s a great comfort.” She reached for the robe, but Sleipnir stopped her. “You’ll not be needing that yet. Now come on.”

Sleipnir ushered Agatha into a large, tiled room. A complex brass boiler system hissed quietly in the corner. Agatha felt exposed, and vainly tried to cover herself with her hands while Sleipnir threw a switch and turned a large wheel valve. She then gently pushed Agatha under a large sunflower-shaped nozzle in the ceiling. “Brace yourself,” she warned, and pulled a hanging cord. A cascade of water poured from the nozzle. Agatha screamed in shock as the water hit her, then realized, to her amazement, that the water was warm! To a person who had lived her whole life boiling bathwater on the kitchen stove, this was luxury indeed.

Sleipnir chuckled at her reaction. “When you’re done, I should have some clothing for you,” and she exited.

For several minutes Agatha forgot her predicament and just let the water cascade over her. After a moment she noticed a small metal table in the middle of the room. On it were racks containing bottles, which were labeled as containing shampoo and various hair oils, as well as bars of soap. Agatha selected one and examined it. Even the soap here was different, transparent, and it smelled like oranges. A far cry indeed from the stuff that Agatha helped Lilith boil up out of ashes, lye and lard from the rendering plant. The very oddity of the mundane object in her hand helped Agatha begin to think clearly. She began to lather up her hair.

When Agatha emerged, her skin glowing red, vigorously toweling herself off, Sleipnir was rummaging around inside a locker. Turning around with a few outfits hung over her arm, she critically eyed Agatha and frowned.

“I was afraid of that. I may be the closest match to you sizewise, but you’re a bit larger than me, especially in the chest.”

Agatha sighed. Sleipnir’s next words surprised her. “I wish I looked as good as you.” She turned back and rooted deeper within the locker and turned back while holding up a red leather overall. “There’s a few things we can adjust a bit when we’ve got the time, but for now, it’s this or nothing.” She shook out the outfit. “Luckily this has always been a bit loose on me.”

It was not loose on Agatha. Indeed in several places it took a bit of shoehorning to get all of her inside it, but eventually they got the final buttons buttoned.

“It’s… tight.”

Sleipnir nodded. “It most certainly is that. The good news is that as it’s leather, it’ll stretch out a bit once you get moving.”

“At the moment, I’m more worried about breathing.”

“Overrated.”

Agatha caught sight of herself in a large mirror. Her face went as red as her outfit. “I can’t wear this!” She turned and looked at her backside, which the outfit revealed all too well. “I mean—look at this!”

Sleipnir shrugged. “it’s a bit tight, but I said it’ll stretch—” A realization struck her. “Have you ever worn trousers before?”

“Well… no.”

Sleipnir nodded. “You’ll get used to it. Here no one expects you to be daft enough to work inside the big engines in a dress, that’s a good way to get yourself mangled. The Baron scandalized everyone when he said women wouldn’t wear them. The boys’ll stare a bit, but they stare at everything. Call ‘em on it and they’ll go red as a brick. You’ll see. It’s fun.”

Agatha took another look at herself in the mirror. The outfit looked like it had been sprayed on. “Fun.”

Sleipnir grinned. “Oh, yeah. Now c’mon, if you’re done admiring yourself, there’s people waiting for you. Who is this Mister Wooster anyway? He’s a bit of a codfish, isn’t he?”

Agatha was taken aback at Sleipnir’s language, but gamely ignored it. “All I know is that his name is Ardsley Wooster. He’s come to take me to Gilgamesh Wulfenbach.”

Sleipnir stopped dead. “Gil? He’s here?”

“I guess. Why? Do you know him?”

Sleipnir looked sad. “Sure, and I used to. I thought I did. He was raised here with us, but no one knew who he was, of course. Once he left for school in Paris, he never even answered our letters, and no one has seen him since he got back.” They walked for a moment. “I really miss him, he told the funniest stories.”

Agatha tried to reconcile this image with the serious young man she had seen in Beetle’s lab “Funny stories. Gilgamesh

Wulfenbach.”

Sleipnir sighed. “I expect he’s changed quite a bit. We’ve read—” She shook her head, cutting herself off, and looked to Agatha. “When you see him, tell him I said ‘welcome back.’ At least I can say I did the right thing there.”

“Okay.”

As they exited the shower room, Ardsley Wooster glided up from where he’d been standing. Sleipnir waved goodbye, and the two of them exited into the bustling corridor. “So what does Master Wulfenbach want to see me for?”

“I’m afraid that is not my place to say, Miss Clay.”

This seemed to shut down any hope of conversation, so Agatha took the opportunity to look around. The corridor she found herself in was quite large, easily ten meters wide and the ceiling was almost as high. The only unusual thing was that instead of wood or stone, it appeared to be constructed of metal. This oddity extended right down to the floor, which Agatha noted, wasn’t solid but was some sort of grate. To Agatha’s disappointment, there didn’t seem to be any windows, but the view before her was fascinating enough without one.

Growing up in Beetleburg, Agatha had considered herself to be fairly cosmopolitan, but the crowd here made her feel like a small-town girl on her first trip to the big city. A surprisingly large number of the people moving purposefully along seemed to be Wulfenbach airship personnel, but perhaps that was because their bright red-and-white-striped shirts caused them to stand out. The other armed forces were certainly represented, their brightly colored uniforms, in every possible variation, were a treat for the eyes. Black clad domestics kept to the sides of the large paneled corridors, carrying bundles and pushing carts. People from all over the Baron’s wide-flung empire could be seen, as well as visitors from outside its borders. Fairly regularly, there would be a goose-like honking, and a young child in a blue uniform, astride a tall golden unicycle, would expertly weave through the crowd like it was standing still, leather messenger bags slung over the cyclist’s shoulders. A procession of silk-garbed Chinese moved sedately down the center of the corridor. The procession was proceeded and followed by a squad of sleek, ornately coated footmen, whose gait caused Agatha to study them intently. There was something not quite right… One of the footmen looked directly at her. Large, luminous green eyes with thin, vertical pupils examined her and then swung away. Agatha shuddered and moved a bit closer to Mr. Wooster, allowing the procession ample space in which to pass. She noticed that hers was not an unusual reaction, as everyone seemed eager to give the inhuman footmen plenty of space. As the Chinese passed, Agatha noticed that they all held themselves quite rigid, their faces expressionless, except for one of the junior clerks bringing up the rear. He was obviously terrified of the creatures escorting him. A faint odor of lilac reached her as they passed. A quick glance at her companion revealed that he observed the procession until it was out of sight before continuing on their way.

He noticed Agatha’s look. “The creatures in the purple coats are known as the Lackya. The Baron employees them for many tasks, but it is wise to steer clear of them.” With that he turned about and moved on.

There were other non-human creatures in the crowd. A squad of huge bulky men passed by in single file. Perched upon each of their shoulders was a small woman who appeared to have a glass dome set upon her head. As Agatha looked closer, she saw, with a shudder, that the men had no heads, but instead, similar, larger glass domes where a head should be, and within their crystalline depths, machinery gleamed with an odd purple light.

Clanks there were in abundance, not just the now-familiar soldiers who, Agatha noted, carried much smaller weapons than the immense machine cannons she had seen in Beetleburg, but others in a bewildering variety of shapes that lurched or rolled along on mysterious errands.

And sprinkled throughout the throng were odd, unclassifiable creatures whose differences ranged from the blatantly obvious, such as the octopus with spectacles who operated its own rolling aquarium, to the disquietingly subtle, such as the charming young lady who, only as she was walking away from Agatha, revealed a cow-like tail that swayed in mesmerizing counterpoint to her hips.

Eventually, after a bewildering maze of such passages, and several sets of metal stairs, they found themselves in front of a massive steel blast door. Ardsley broke the silence. “We have arrived, Miss.” With that he discretely knocked twice, spun the large metal wheel in the center of the door, pushed, and it slowly swung inwards.

They entered atop a metal catwalk that surrounded a large open workshop. Agatha’s practiced eye saw an impressive array of lathes, mills, disintegrators, presses and shapers. An efficient-looking forge took up one wall, and tables and benches were covered with racks of tools, vats of chemicals, piles of humming, crackling electrical devices, or often some intriguing combination of all three. Clouds of steam arose from several large boilers, and the smell of machine oil and ozone filled the air. Overhead, a bank of arc lamps lit the scene with a harsh blue light.

In the center of the room was a large sunken bay, which was filled with a sleek green machine. To Agatha it appeared to be some sort of motorized carriage, although the aerodynamic effect was spoiled by some sort of large, multi-layer fender attached to each side. Bent over a large motor located amidships was Gilgamesh Wulfenbach, clad in a blue work shirt and a leather work apron. Agatha’s eye was caught by a sudden movement. From under the machine came a bizarre little creature. She couldn’t really tell what it was, as it was concealed within a large greatcoat several sizes too large, and an enormous felt hat. The only clues as to its species were the bright blue claws that extended from the sleeves as it dragged a large mallet along the ground, and a pair of long, blue, articulated antenna that poked out through two holes that had been cut into its hat. It moved with a manic energy that belied its diminutive size.

Wooster coughed. “Miss Agatha Clay, sir.”

Both the man and the creature looked upwards. Agatha noticed that the creature possessed but a single eye.

Young Wulfenbach smiled and tossed the wrench he was holding into a bin resting on the cowl of the machine. “Ah, Miss Clay. Glad to see you on your feet.” He waved his hand towards one of the benches on the side of the room. “If you would be so kind as to bring me a left-leaning Lurning wrench on your way over? Wooster? You may go.”

The butler paused slightly, but bowed and silently backed out of the room, shutting the great door as he did so. Gil turned to the creature who continued to stare at Agatha. “Zoing? Bring Miss Clay some tea, please.” The creature dropped the mallet and scuttled off to another bench while making high-pitched squealing noises. Gilgamesh turned back to his engine.

After several seconds, Agatha swallowed and climbed down the metal ladder and went to the indicated bench. Seeing the young man had sent a peculiar feeling through her, one she attributed to her conviction that he was responsible for Dr. Beetle’s death. She reflected upon this while searching through the tools. To her immense surprise, she saw the goldfish that had been kept by Dr. Beetle. For some reason this upset her more than ever, and by the time she had located the correct wrench and climbed down into the work pit, she was building up to a fine temper. There was a small step-ladder leaning against the machine, and Agatha climbed up to the cockpit with a murderous gleam in her eye.

Gilgamesh was now elbow deep in the motor cavity, and with a grunt of satisfaction, pulled out a small hairy mimmoth. These pests, the result of some unknown madboy’s tampering, had infested most of the known world, and frequently fouled machinery. It honked at him. He spoke without looking at her. “I hope you found your quarters comfortable, I—”

A wrench was thrust into his face with a commanding “Here.”

Startled, he turned and saw a sullen Agatha regarding him, the wrench in one hand, the other hand upon her hip. A look of annoyance settled upon his face. He briskly tossed the mimmoth into a container and stripped off his work gloves. “Right. So much for small talk. Let us have this out right now. Sit down.”

“There’s nothing—”

Gil’s head swiveled towards her and he fixed her with an icy stare. “Sit. Down,” he commanded.

With a thump, Agatha found herself sitting upon a small bench seat.

Gil regarded her warily. For the first time, he seemed to notice her outfit. Agatha saw the direction of his gaze and squirmed in embarrassment. Her outfit creaked in protest.

Gil realized his mouth was open slightly and shut it with a snap, then shook his head and spoke calmly. “Miss Clay, I’m really sorry about Dr. Beetle. I know he was important to you, and I agree that his death was a complete waste, but—”

Agatha looked away and interrupted coldly, “But he threw a bomb at you. Yes, you’ve said.”

“NO!” Gil’s fist crashed down and a startled Agatha saw him staring at her intently. “I think he threw a bomb at you!”

After the first shock, Agatha felt herself getting angry. “Dr. Beetle loved me! He wouldn’t—”

Gil ignored her. “He wanted you out of that lab. In retrospect I can see that he was terrified of you being there. Why? What is it about you that could have gotten him in even more trouble with my father than his hiding a Hive Engine?”

“Nothing! There’s nothing about me!”

Gil leaned back and regarded her seriously. “Then what about your parents, the Clays?”

Agatha’s sudden start caused a tight smile of satisfaction to flash across his face. “Yes, that hit a nerve.”

Agatha rallied. “Wrong. My parents are simple, normal people.”

Gil nodded agreeably. “Did you know that you have been asleep for around thirty-six hours?”

Agatha felt off-balance at the change in conversation. “What does that have to do with—?”

“I can’t find these ‘simple, normal people’ of yours.”

A small smile curved Agatha’s lips. “Oh, really?”

Gil leaned forward. “And that doesn’t surprise you. It certainly surprises me. We had the town sealed and they still got out. How did they do that? More important, why did they do that? At the very least, one would think that they would inquire about you, their only daughter, but they never even returned to their home. Should we be worried about them?”

Agatha bit her lip. These were legitimate questions. The idea that Adam and Lilith could actually be in a situation where they needed assistance was a foreign one, but there was always the possibility. “I don’t know.”

Gil studied her for a moment longer and nodded. “I see.” He smiled. “Now let’s talk about Herr von Zinzer.”

Agatha looked blankly at him. “Who?”

Gil’s smile widened. “Moloch von Zinzer?”

“I’m afraid I don’t—”

Gil continued, “The man you help build clanks with? While in your underwear? Your boyfriend? Your lover? The reason you’re here? Ring a bell?” he asked innocently.

Agatha flushed. “I never! He’s n—” Too late she caught Gil’s look of satisfaction. She quickly shifted mental gears. “He’s… nnnice!”

Gil looked at her askance. “Nice?”

Agatha nodded inanely, scarcely believing the drivel pouring out of her mouth. “That’s what I call him. Herr Nice. I don’t even think of him as… as…”

“Von Zinzer.”

“Von Zinzer. Yes.”

Gil raised an eyebrow. “Ah. Well then, you’ll both be happy to know that you’ll be assisting… Herr… Nice, with his next clank.”

“Oh. But… Good,” she finished weakly.

Gil smiled. “And I’m sure you’ll be relieved to know that we have a very relaxed dress code in the labs.”

Agatha stiffened. “You know, as much as I’d miss Mowgli—”

“Moloch?”

“Herr Nice, I’d rather just go home and help look for my parents.”

Gil got serious. “I assure you, Miss Clay, we’re doing everything we can to find them. Unless you can think of somewhere in particular we should look?”

Reluctantly, Agatha shook her head. A sudden clink made her look around. A small blue claw appeared over the side of the machine, holding a delicate delftware teacup. Agatha reached out and took it. The tea within smelled delicious. “Thank you,” she murmured.

The claw then grabbed onto a protruding grommet and Zoing hauled himself upwards. Up close, Agatha still couldn’t penetrate the gloom under the little creature’s hat. Feeling her eyes upon it, Zoing looked back briefly, then reached inside a wide sleeve and pulled out a sugar bowl, which it offered graciously. Agatha declined. Zoing shrugged, and deftly extracted several sugar cubes and popped them inside its coat. Satisfied crunching noises followed.

Gil’s voice brought her back to the conversation. “Anyway, I’m afraid my father won’t allow you to leave just yet, he considers you his guarantee to Herr von Zinzer’s good behavior.”

Agatha felt an uncharacteristic flare of temper. “You can’t just keep me here.”

Gil had the grace to look slightly embarrassed, but he shrugged. “We can actually. It’s not like you could walk out the front door, you know.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have one.” His face brightened. “You don’t know where you are, do you?”

Agatha blinked. Gil grabbed a control box that was attached to a long cable that went up into the ceiling. He grinned and stabbed at a button. “Let me show you!”

Agatha heard a squeal of alarm from Zoing, and then with a great CLANG! the floor split into two massive panels that swung downward, and the machine they were sitting in dropped. A quick look over the side caused Agatha to think she’d gone mad, as the ground was easily several thousand meters under them. A few farms nestled beside a river, and a vast forest covered much of the land. “What have you done?” she screamed against the uprushing wind.

Gil was busily manipulating the controls of the machine. He grinned again. “Ha! Watch this!”

He threw a large switch, and the motor behind them coughed twice and then stopped. Silence surrounded them as they fell. Agatha crossed her arms. “Oh. It’s a Falling Machine. I’m so impressed.”

Gil looked annoyed. “Weird. It worked perfectly on paper…” Simultaneously the both of them swarmed over the engine.

“How’s it work?”

“Fuel here. Spark here. Main shaft. Boosters.”

“Interesting. Should this be loose?”

“Yes, it’s a balance arm.”

Agatha glared at him. “A balance arm? You’re wasting space in a flying machine with a balance arm?”

“Well… yes, you still need—”

Agatha pushed him aside and reached into the engine compartment. A quick wrench and the small device was flung out into space, where it hung in front of Gil’s face.

“And this!” Another part was ripped loose. “This is a heat pump! Superfluous!”

Gil eyed the slowly spinning device with regret. “Nicely designed though, eh?”

Agatha reached back, grabbed his shirt front and hauled him beside her. “Look—”she commanded. “With more room you can enlarge this flywheel and it will act as a balance! Add coolant lines here and here and then it will also act as a heat dump!”

The light dawned on Gil’s face. “I see! Then we can also get rid of these here if we add more vents!”

The two of them grinned in accord and began ripping various pieces of engine out and tossing the mover the side. A gleam came into Gil’s eye, and his voice began to match Agatha’s in intensity. “That’ll fix our heat problem and tighten up these linkages! I see! Yes! There’s a whole bunch of stuff we can get rid of!” He grabbed a large wrench. “Help me unbolt the engine!”

At this Agatha heard a strangled noise from behind, and felt an urgent tapping on her shoulder. Turning, she saw Zoing hanging upside down from the steering wheel. The small creature looked at her beseechingly and pointed over the side. A glance downward revealed the ground rushing upwards at an alarming rate. She in turn tapped Gil on the shoulder. “Um… of course, we are still falling.”

Gil looked at her blankly for a second. Then he rolled his eyes. “Oh, that.” He reached into the engine compartment. “This wire was loose. Let’s try it now.”

So saying, he turned to the controls, and threw a lever. Instantly the engine caught with a roar. The odd fenders unfolded with a snap to reveal themselves as a pair of large green wings, and with a massive jolt, the machine’s fall turned into a graceful dive that swung forward and the machine gently began to climb back up into the sky, barely clearing several of the taller treetops.

With a squeak, Zoing toppled forward onto the floor and twitched. Agatha decided not to disturb him. She looked around, but failed to see any buildings at all, let alone one tall enough to have fallen from.

“So,” she asked, “How did we get so high in the first place?”

Gil grinned. “We started higher. Look up.”

Agatha did so and gasped.

“We started from Castle Wulfenbach.”

And indeed, above them loomed the greatest symbol of the Baron’s authority. Castle Wulfenbach was a vast dirigible, almost a kilometer in length. The surface was encrusted with engines, viewpoints, and complex structures that would have dwarfed entire earthbound castles. Massive gun turrets bristled along its length. A row of windmills turned slowly along its keel. Perched atop its spine, minarets, domes and towers filled every square foot. Gardens were visible, as were the three great smokestacks venting steam.

Surrounding it on every side, above and below, was an armada of hundreds of smaller airships, although, Agatha realized with a shock, that several of these “smaller” ships were themselves dreadnoughts in the Baron’s fleet, made small only by the presence of the larger ship they escorted. Even at a glance one could see an order in the seeming chaos, as ships arrived and departed to and from the wide-spread empire.

The Baron had begun construction of the giant airship almost sixteen years ago, and had continually enlarged it until it had reached its current size. As his base of operations, it was unique as the only capital that was able to patrol its own empire. Onboard was the bureaucracy that allowed the Baron’s Empire to function, and many a local warlord had awoken to discover that the master’s crack teams of accountants and inspectors had landed in the night and were anxious to question him about irregularities in the books or that peculiar smell coming from the hidden laboratory. Its support crew numbered in the thousands, and rumor had it that vast numbers of them had not touched the earth in years. Many things were whispered about what went on aboard the gigantic airship, but surprisingly few townsfolk had been there. Sightings always caused the local population to pour out into the streets to stare until it had passed by. The panic started when it stopped overhead.

Agatha sat down as she stared upwards. She had traveled with Dr. Beetle several times on airships. They had been cramped, utilitarian vehicles. “I didn’t know… it didn’t feel like we were aboard a…”

“Really? I wouldn’t know. I grew up there.”

This brought Agatha back. “Oh yes. Sleipnir O’Hara said to say ‘Welcome back.’”

Gil’s face hardened. “Oh, she did, did she? Nice of her to remember me.”

Agatha was surprised at his reaction. “She seemed very fond of you, actually.”

“She has a funny way of showing it. I never heard from her, or any of the others once I left for Paris.” It was obvious despite his light tone, that this was something that bothered Gil quite a bit.

Agatha frowned. “Now wait a minute. She said that you never responded to any of their letters.”

“I never got any letters, and they never bothered to come see me when I returned.”

“Did you try to see them?”

“No,” Gil said coldly, “I thought they’d made their feelings clear enough—”

“Guess they felt the same way.”

“But I didn’t—” Gil paused. His eyes narrowed. He continued slowly, “Or rather, I had been led to believe…”

The engine gave a sudden cough and both of them looked at it. It hiccoughed and then roared back to full power. Gil nodded. “You had some interesting ideas regarding the engine.” He paused. “Build many?”

Agatha slumped down into her seat. “None that work. I can’t concentrate. Nothing I do ever works. It’s so frustrating! I can see it in my head, but everything I build explodes or falls apart.”

The engine burped again. A worried look flitted across Gil’s face. “Um… Maybe I’d better check that engine again…”

Agatha ignored him. “And when I do try to concentrate, I get these terrible headaches that prevent me from doing anything! It’s so—”

Gil broke in. “You were working pretty intensely a minute ago and you didn’t get a headache then.”

Agatha looked at him owlishly. “Why, you’re right.” She thought, “Maybe it was because I was interrupted by your…” She looked at the little construct who had been waving at her frantically, but gave up, “Zoing?”

Gil studied her. “But if you’ve never been able to concentrate, how could you have—?” At this point Zoing grabbed the front of Gil’s coverall and began to furiously shake it. Annoyed, Gil turned. “What is it, Zoing? I—”

It was then that they saw the enormous gallery of windows set into the side of Castle Wulfenbach looming scant yards before them. All three had time to see the reflection of their stricken faces before they plowed straight through them in an explosion of glass and metal. Agatha found herself clutching Gil for dear life as the flyer burst into a causeway and continued through the walls on the opposite side. Wood paneling and various weapons flew about. The machine crashed to the ground and began to skid upon an ornate oriental carpet as debris bounced through the room, smashing furniture and knocking what appeared to be hunting trophies to the floor. In an enormous chair in the center of the room, a large creature looked up, startled at the intrusion. He had a large ornate teacup halfway to his mouth, and a book clumsily held in his oversized hand. They were heading straight for him when the creature calmly dropped his book, stuck out his arm, and with no apparent effort, halted the skidding machine dead.

Agatha, Gil and Zoing were thrown forward. Agatha flew through the air and suddenly found herself gently cradled in the crook of an enormous arm, while a pair of curious eyes beneath furry white eyebrows peered down at her. A wreath of white hair encircled the monster’s brow, and a fearsome set of tusks protruded from its mouth. The lower set had been elegantly capped in gold. The rest of the creature was dressed in an elaborate red military uniform, encrusted with medals and festooned with gold lace and buttons. The sharp-toothed mouth gaped wide. “Iz hyu hokay dere, sveethot?”

Agatha blinked. The dialect was unmistakable. This was a Jägermonster, but unlike any she had ever seen or heard of. “I…

I think so,” she said.

“Goot!” He turned to Gil, who clambered out from behind the remains of the steering wheel. “Howzabout hyu, kiddo?”

Gil tried to stand, and wound up sitting instead. He looked at the enormous creature sitting calmly before him, and looked at the front of the little flyer. The image of a gigantic clawed hand was deeply imprinted in the machine’s nose. “General Khrizhan! Are you all right?”

The Jägergeneral snorted in amusement. “Ho! Uv caurze, a leedle machine like dot? Pliz!”

At this point Agatha realized that the monster soldier had not put her down. “Excuse me?” she ventured. The general looked at her with surprise, and with evident reluctance, gently set her to her feet.

He looked at the damage to his room, and seemed to find it genuinely amusing. He turned to Gil. “If hyu vaz tryin kto zuprize hyu poppa, hyu vaz a leedle off. He iz not due for hour meetink for anodder—” he twisted his head to look at the face of an ornate clock that was smashed onto its side “—fife meenutes.”

Gil went pale. “My father? My father is coming here?”

“Ho yez.”

Gil clutched at his head. “Was I just thinking that this day couldn’t get any worse?”

Agatha spoke up from next to the mangled flyer. “I think the engine is still salvageable. We could—”

The change that came over Gilgamesh was astonishing. Instantly he became the grim, efficient creature that Agatha had seen in Dr. Beetle’s lab. He pointed towards the door. “GO!” he barked.

Agatha looked stunned. “What?”

“Go! I’ve got to deal with my father and I do not want him to—” He seemed at a loss. “Just go!”

General Khrizhan broke in. “Ho dun be like dat. Hyu poppa vould understend. Vy the tings hive dun to impress a pretty gorl make dis luke like nodding! Some tea end—”

Gil forcibly picked Agatha up, carried her to the door and thrust her outside. “Zoing!” he yelled.

The little creature scuttled out from under the general’s chair clutching a tea biscuit. “Take her back to the dorm level. Now!” And with that he slammed the door behind them.

The general shrugged and raised a hand to his face to hide a grin, and totally failed to do so. “A peety.” He rumbled, “She seemed verra—” He stopped suddenly. He sniffed at his hand deeply. He paused. “Master Wulfenbach,” he asked casually, “who vas dot gorl?”

Gil kicked a flyer part off of the remains of the carpet. “She’s just a lab assistant.” He looked closely at the Jägergeneral. “Why?”

Khrizhan grinned toothily. “She smells… verra nize.”

Embarrassed, Gil turned away. “Oh, please, what is it with you people? She does not smell ‘nice’!”

Unfortunately, this last statement was delivered with enough force that it was clearly audible to the people standing outside the door. In addition to Agatha and Zoing, there was a crowd of Jägermonsters as well as a growing number of airship personnel, many of them obviously prepared to deal with fire or some other disaster.

As Gil’s pronouncement rang through the air, everyone turned to Agatha, who reddened, and radiating fury, stalked off with Zoing scrabbling to keep up. One of the Jägermonsters called out to her. “He dun know vat hees talkink about, sveethot! Hyu schmell vunderful!”

At this point it was hard to tell where Agatha’s skin began, and the red coverall ended, but she managed to turn the corner with her head held high. Her attitude was evident enough that the onrushing crowd parted around her, until the familiar figure of Ardsley Wooster rushed up. “Miss Clay,” he cried. “Where is Master Gilgamesh?”

Agatha glared at him icily. “Your swinish employer is in with a General Khrizhan. He’s better than he deserves to be.”

Ardsley blinked, but wisely realized that these were waters best avoided. “Ah—thank you,” he said, and dashed off.

Agatha watched him go. She looked down at Zoing. “Are you okay?”

Zoing bobbled affirmatively and offered her a nibbled tea biscuit.

Agatha suddenly realized that she was starving. Enough so that she seriously considered the offered biscuit. “No thank you. Let’s go.”

Almost half an hour later, the enormity of Castle Wulfenbach had been firmly established, and Agatha was feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Eventually they reached a set of doors labeled “Student Dormitory,” which were guarded by a pair of bored-looking soldiers. They asked Agatha her name, checked her off against a list, and waved her through. Once they stepped over the sill, Zoing stopped, tipped his hat and skittered back the way they’d come. Agatha sighed and pushed open the inner door and found herself in the long common room. Cries erupted from the apparently ever-present swarm of children.

“There she is!”

“Master Gilgamesh really took you on a flying machine?”

“We saw you out the windows!”

“You were flyin’!”

“Were you in your underwear?”

“Did you really crash into the Castle?”

“We all felt it!”

Sleipnir pushed through the crowd of chattering children. Agatha was surprised at how happy she was to see a friendly face, and impulsively hugged the redhead, who smiled, and hugged her tightly in return.

“Are you okay?” Sleipnir asked. “You were really flying with Gil?”

Agatha nodded. “I’m okay. No one was hurt, but it was a real mess.”

One of the little boys piped up in a singsong voice, “Your boyfriend is gonna be jealous.”

A hissing voice filled the room, freezing all the children into immobility. “No, he won’t—”

Agatha started to turn, but a sudden blur turned into a black claw that grabbed the front of her outfit and swung her around as it hoisted her into the air. Agatha found herself staring into the face of a furious woman, her blonde hair pulled back into a painfully tight bun, a ruby-red monocle was screwed into her left eye and her mouth was filled with sharp, pointy teeth. Her tight black leather outfit was fastened with a variety of buckles and straps that creaked and clinked whenever she moved, which she did with an inhuman quickness. Effortlessly she brought Agatha up to her face with one hand and snarled, “He will be in mourning!”