Agatha H. and the Airship City

CHAPTER 8

Mr. Rovainen froze halfway through the door. In a dim pool of light, a familiar figure was hunched over a series of microscopes. “Dr. Vg,” he said. “Why are you still here? It is very late.”

Vg nodded without turning to face him. “I couldn’t sleep.” He delicately placed a pipette on a dish, and sat back with a sigh. “I think I have found a way to determine the age of the Hive Engine.”

Rovainen scuttled forward. “Really?”

Vg removed his pince-nez and buffed them on his sleeve, always a sign that he was pleased with himself. “Yes. It will involve disassembling part of the control unit, but once we have, we can compare the crystallization rates of the brines.”

Rovainen peered up at the massive Hive Engine that dominated the room. He nodded. “That would work.” He hesitated, then awkwardly placed a hand on Vg’s shoulder. “I have… always admired your brilliance, Doctor.” Vg was so surprised by this statement, that the shock of the blade passing through his chest was almost an afterthought. “I am so sorry,” Mr. Rovainen whispered as he gently lowered the stricken Vg to the floor.

Vg felt the life draining from him. “You… you have killed me!”

Mr. Rovainen stood over him and deftly reinserted the long steel blade into the spring device in his coat sleeve. “No, old friend. I have spared you.” He stepped up to the Hive Engine, and with three sure motions, activated it. “Spared you from that which is to come.”

Vg struggled, but only felt himself grow weaker. “You’ve activated it! Are you insane?”

Rovainen looked at him askance. “Alas, that comfort is denied me.”

Vg’s brain made one final leap of logic. “You’re a servant of the Other. You’re a revenant!”

“Yes.”

“Fight it! Don’t do this! The Other is dead! Gone!” The effort caused a gout of blood to cover his lips and he fell back.

Mr. Rovainen turned back to the now-glowing Engine. “Oh no. The Other lives—and I have seen her.”

Agatha floated in the middle of the universe and saw that it was an engine, endlessly ticking. She saw how it was put together. She reached out and grasped a tiny part which was, as she saw, connected to everything else, and twisted—”Yes. Now I see. Wrench.”

A small silver wrench was delicately placed into her outstretched hand. A final twist and she stepped back from the large cylinder before her. A movement to her side caught her eye and she realized that the wrench had been handed to her by a small brass clank that was the size and shape of a large pocket watch. It had diminutive arms and legs, and the single great eye set in the center of its face watched her intently. Agatha gave a small gasp of delight and leaned forward to study it. “What are you?” she breathed.

“You should know,” a voice remarked from behind her. Agatha whirled in surprise. There, perched upon a lab stool looking tired but exultant, was Gilgamesh Wulfenbach. He waved a hand. “You built them.”

It was only then that Agatha realized that the lab they were in, Gilgamesh’s she realized, was literally crawling with hundreds of small clanks, no two of them alike and all of them small enough to fit in her hand. Half of them seemed to be disassembling parts of the lab and its equipment, while the other half were reassembling said parts into new, unfamiliar shapes.

Agatha shook her head. “No, I couldn’t have built all these. There are too many of them.”

Gil shrugged. “I think you started a few nights ago—in your sleep.”

“But still—all of these…”

“That’s the best part. They’re self-replicating.” He snagged a small, domed clank that was moving across the floor by fits and starts. “I watched as this one was built by three others tonight.” Agatha peered at it and noticed that the rivets were misaligned along half of the little clank’s carapace. Its single eyed rolled towards her slowly. “It doesn’t seem to be as well made as the others,” Gil remarked.

Agatha stared at him. “But they work. I built something that works.”

Gil shrugged. “You’ll have to get used to that—being a Spark and all.”

Agatha felt like she was watching the conversation happen to someone else far away. “I built something that works,” the faraway girl said. She turned and looked Gil in the eye, to see if he was making fun of her. “A Spark,” she said.

Gil grinned. “I certainly hope so.” He gently took hold of her shoulder and swung her around. “Because if you’re not, then I’m never going to figure out what this is about.”

“This” was a tall, barrel-shaped clank standing motionless upon a pair of powerful, jacked legs. Attached to its back was a tapering, green metal pod that looked vaguely insectoid. The whole thing was startlingly familiar, and it suddenly dawned on Agatha where she’d seen it. “Is… is that your fencing clank?”

Gil nodded. “The fencing clank, part of the wrecked flying machine, bits of the furnace and the mechanical orchestra, my good lathe—” he looked at her quizzically “—and a pneumatic nutcracker.”

Agatha looked embarrassed. “I really like nuts.”

Gil nodded. For a Spark, this was solid stuff. Any number of devices had been built because “The cats on the moon told me to.”

Agatha frowned. “Wait. You don’t know what this is? But if you saw me put it together—”

Gil shrugged. “Oh, I know most of how you did it—You had me playing assistant half the night. But that’s a lot different from actually firing it up and seeing what it does. Maybe I’ll get Wooster to do it.”

“What?”

“Just kidding.” Gil grinned. A part of Agatha noted with a touch of embarrassment how much she enjoyed seeing his smile. He pulled a bizarre pocket watch out of his waistcoat and clasping her wrist, began to check her pulse. His hand was warm and comfortably strong. “Hmm. Accelerated pulse. So, how are you feeling?”

Agatha thought about it. “Good,” she realized, with a touch of surprise. “A little tired. Hungry.”

Gil snapped the watch lid shut and gestured towards a long table along the wall. “Hardly surprising, you’ve been working all night. I had the kitchens bring up some food. Help yourself.”

A large covered basket revealed a stack of warm crusty loaves of French-style bread. A block of sweet Irish butter was surrounded by several different types of cheese, including a sharp orange cheddar webbed with fiery spices, a buttery gouda baked into a flaky crust and a pungent bleu which contained small salt crystals that crunched between your teeth. Platters of cold meats, an astonishing selection of various puddings and sausages and smoked fish from all over the Empire. Several small crocks contained pickled vegetables.

Hungry as she was, Agatha swiftly constructed a massive sandwich and was in the process of topping it off with a potent garlic mustard that was a Beetleburg favorite, when she realized that the young man was observing her closely. He nodded when he saw that she had noticed. “You seem very…” He considered his words carefully. “Together.”

Agatha quickly checked her attire and then hefted the finished sandwich self-consciously. “Yes—I’m all dressed and everything.”

Gil waved that aside. “No, no. When a Spark breaks through, it’s usually very traumatic. A fair number go mad. Since they’re made during these periods of great emotional pain and confusion, breakthrough devices usually cause a lot of destruction. It’s how a lot of Sparks get killed. But you—even your first clank in Beetleburg was fairly benign. You haven’t broken through so much as eased through. My father will find this very interesting.”

Agatha swallowed. “You’re telling your father?”

Gil nodded. “Oh yes! He was totally wrong about you! He still thinks von Zinzer is the Spark! Hee!” It was obvious that catching his father in a mistake was the best thing to happen to Gil in quite some time.

“But I don’t want to be ‘studied,’” Agatha objected. “What if I end up like… like Dr. Vapnoople?”

Gilgamesh was instantly serious. “What makes you think you’ll end up like Dr. Vapnoople?”

Agatha blinked. “Oh. Ah…”

Gil’s eyes narrowed. “How do you even know who he is?”

“I don’t really, but his cat warned me.” The sentence actually formed in Agatha’s head, but common sense kept it from being spoken. Luckily, she was spared further interrogation by a blast of sound that came from a set of whistles set into the wall. Both Agatha and Gilgamesh clapped their hands to their ears. “What is that?” Agatha shouted.

Gil leaned close to her and shouted back. “Evacuation alarm! There isn’t a drill scheduled, so let’s move!” With that he grabbed her hand and took off for the exit. Pipes were whistling all through the section, and Agatha saw people emerging from various doorways, some of them frantically clutching armloads of papers or equipment.

“Evacuation?” she yelled over the din, “You mean off the Castle?”

Gil shrugged. He seemed remarkably unconcerned. “Probably not,” he shouted back. “Just out of the labs. If it’s really bad, we’ll head to one of the support dirigibles.”

Agatha stopped suddenly, almost jerking Gil off his feet. “Wait! My little clanks!”

Gil frowned. “You don’t have time to collect them!”

Ignoring him, Agatha cupped her hands and roared down the hallway, “FOLLOW ME!”

From the doorway of the lab, a glittering carpet of tiny devices poured out into the hall. Suddenly the flood paused, and the giant mystery clank smashed through the doorframe. It moved quickly, but with a delicate mincing step that managed to avoid crushing any of the smaller machines that swarmed around its feet.

“But what are they even good for?” Gil yelled.

“If I leave them behind, we’ll never know!”

With that the two again headed towards the exit. Agatha noticed that the hall was now empty, except for them. Gil explained, “We’re experimenting with dangerous stuff here. Once the alarm goes off, we have two minutes to get out of the labs before they’re sealed off.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

Gil shrugged. “Every couple of weeks. You’ll get used to it.” They turned the corner and saw the exit doorway. Beyond it an anxious crowd was gathered, arms loaded with items. At the sight of Gil and Agatha, they raised a cheer and called encouragement. On the doorframe itself, lights were blinking, and a digital display across the top was counting down the seconds. As Agatha watched, it clicked to 21. With a gasp, they crossed the threshold. Agatha felt embarrassed at how out of shape she was, and with a guilty start, realized that she was leaning on Gil’s arm. She jerked herself off just as Gil’s hand was about to delicately ease itself onto her shoulder. With only a slight hesitation, said hand smoothly fished out his watch instead. He nodded.

“That’s cutting it a bit fine. But now we should find my father and help—”

“WAIT!” Agatha had screeched to a halt. “The prisoner!”

Gil looked at her blankly, then he frowned. “Othar? What about him?”

“He’s still locked up in your father’s lab. If it’s something dangerous, he’ll be helpless!”

“Your point being… ?” Agatha frowned. Gil lowered his eyes. “Look, you’ve got to understand. I’ve known Othar a long time. He’s completely insane. He’s probably the cause of this alarm. He’s very dangerous, especially to you—because—”

A collective gasp from the crowd caused him to look up in time to see Agatha darting back down the corridor just as the counter clicked to “0,” and the great metal doors clanged! shut. Instantly a shrill metallic keening arose from the floor. Everyone looked down and saw the swarm of little clanks frantically scrabbling at the closed door. The crowd shrieked and scuttled away, anxiously checking skirt hems and pant cuffs. Gil sighed and rolled his eyes, then squatted down and addressed them. “If you want me to go in after her, you’ll have to help me open that door!” The array of little machines stared back at him. He sat back upon his heels and felt slightly foolish. Why had he allowed himself to succumb to the impulse to talk to them like they could do could actually do anything—

With the sound of a thousand tiny relays flipping to a new setting, the little clanks pulled out, re-arranged themselves into, or simply grabbed a neighbor who was thus revealed to be part of, a vast set of miniature tools, with which they instantly attacked the great metal doorway that stood between them and their mistress.

On the other side of said door, Agatha was having second thoughts as she raced back down the corridor. Turning the bend, she almost plowed into the large mystery clank, which was jogging towards her. She swerved to the left, caromed off the corridor wall and kept on going. The clank jabbed a leg forward, pivoted around it with a screech until it was facing the way it had come, and then clanked off after her.

“What am I doing?” she muttered. “The Baron’s labs are probably even bigger than Gilgamesh’s. How can I find Othar quickly?”

“A-ha!” a voice rang out from an open doorway. “The reticent damsel answers the call of adventure!”

Agatha skidded to a halt and looked in. For a fellow who was chained upside down surrounded by an array of spring-loaded weapons all aimed at him, Othar looked remarkably cheerful, not to mention a bit smug. Agatha took a deep breath and went up to him. Behind her, the great metal clank tried, with qualified success, to ease itself through the doorway without causing too much damage.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Ha! Othar Tryggvassen laughs at such a question!”

“Probably because all the blood’s in your head.”

“That’s certainly part of it,” Othar cheerfully conceded.

Suddenly the great clank stepped forward. With a hisss, the four great fencing arms, topped with their various weapons, unfolded. “Subject Othar—”Its voice was an astonishingly melodious three-part chorus “—I am here to rescue you!”

With a scream, the great circular sawblade on its lower right arm roared into life and, with a flourish, cut through the chains holding Othar aloft, centimeters away from his fingers. Instantly, the spring-loaded weapons released, and were deftly deflected by the remaining arms quickly enough that the machine was able to grab Othar by the leg before he had time to crash onto the floor. Triumphant music erupted from the device and it waved Othar about like a baton as it lumbered back through the doorway, all consideration for the doorframe’s integrity forgotten.

Agatha raced after it, opened her mouth, and ran straight into a billowing expanse of ribbed fabric. Backing up, she saw that the pod upon the clank’s back had opened, and a vast set of green, bat-like wings, supported by an intricate cluster of rods and levers, was unfolding and snapping into position. “Fear not!” The clank sang joyously, “Soon you will be safe!”

“Wait!” Agatha screamed. “We’re inside! You can’t fly in here!”

For a split-second, the device paused, and then spun about and lumbered forward, gaining speed as it headed for a vast bank of windows. Seeing this, Othar frantically doubled his efforts to escape the device’s clutches, but to no avail, as without hesitation, the clank, and its unwilling passenger, smashed through the tempered glass and plunged into the empty sky. Agatha dashed to the gaping hole, and clutched the edge, fighting against the great winds that tore at her long enough to hear a final triumphant “Be free!” along with Othar’s fading scream as they dropped out of sight.

“Well,” she said distantly to no one in particular, “at least now I know what it was for.”

A sudden silence caused her to look around. “The alarm is off. Now what was that for?”

At the far end of the gallery, a door creaked open. A large insectoid head poked through, along with several long multi-jointed arms. Agatha froze. Everyone was trained to know what a Slaver wasp looked like.

Klaus’ quarters were large and opulent, in a restrained and tasteful way. Many of the quarters aboard the Castle were snug at best. Here, there was space, despite the great canopied bed and the large solid items of furniture that occupied the area. At the moment, it was filled with people, many of whom were in the process of coming or going, while a core group collected reports and sent messengers out anew. In the center of it all was the master of Castle Wulfenbach, who was finishing off a goblet of warm wine while his valet finished buckling on a great bandoleer fully loaded with immense shells. The gun that used these shells was strapped into a large holster on his hip. The other hip was taken up with a scabbard holding a villainous-looking greatsword almost two meters long.

The main doorway was filled by the large, bulky form of Jägergeneral Goomblast. “Herr Baron—der outfliers report Slaver warriors all over your main labs.”

Boris nodded. “Yes, the Hive Engine has been activated. Do you have any new information for us?” Goomblast shook his head.

“A revenant onboard,” Klaus muttered. “How many were in the labs?”

Mr. Rovainen hunched his shoulders. “We’re not sure. A few technicians cleaning, Dr. Kirstein’s team was running their lizard-candy experiment… oh, and the prisoner, of course.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Of course. Where is Dr. Vg?”

Mr. Rovainen polished his left lens with a bandage-wrapped finger. “Ah. No one has seen Dr. Vg since last night,” he admitted.

Goomblast broke in. “Dere iz some goot news—All der bogs dey haff seen so far iz varriors!”

Klaus perked up. “So there’s a chance that the actual swarm is still gestating? That is good news! How soon before we’re ready to go in?”

“Hyu giff der order undvego. Vehaff a mixed team of Jägerkin, Lackya, clenks und crew at each entry.”

“Excellent. I am pleased at the lack of rivalry.”

Goomblast drew himself up. “Sir—dere iz a time to twit nancyboy feets men and a time to crush bogs.” The head Lacky a bristled while Boris rolled his eyes. Klaus blinked.

He was saved from any comment by the arrival of Von Pinn, who entered through the door with a creak of leather and an expressive leer from the Jäger on the door. “The children’s ship is away,” she rasped. “The older ones were not happy.”

A pair of booted feet sticking out from a shadowed chair uncrossed themselves and Bangladesh DuPree leaned forward. “Well of course. They’re kids. They want to fight! It’s fun!”

Von Pinn swiveled and glared at the seated woman. “I teach restraint.”

DuPree eyed the leather-clad form and grinned. “So your dressmaker’s an ‘A’ student then?”

Von Pinn hissed and DuPree slowly began to rise from her chair, her grin even wider. “You’re losing air, sweetheart,” she crooned.

The two jerked upright as Klaus’ voice snapped out. “Enough!” Crisply Klaus gave orders and assigned positions. With a rush, the soldiers left to implement his orders. Klaus turned to an airman who had been patiently waiting off to the side.

“Present Captain Patel with my compliments and tell him to continue the evacuation. If he does not hear from myself or my son in two hours, or if the wheelhouse is about to fall, he is to scuttle the Castle.” The airman looked nervous, but his voice was steady as he repeated back the orders, saluted and left.

Klaus turned back. His group consisted of General Goomblast, Bangladesh, Boris, and a squad equally composed of Jägers, Lackya and Castle Wulfenbach’s own marines. He patted his greatsword and for the first time, grinned. “Let us take some exercise.”

Agatha was running flat out down the hallway. She was glancing behind her when she took a corner and smacked into Gilgamesh Wulfenbach. “Miss Clay! Are you all right? Ow.”

Gil was the first one to move, but it was Agatha who hauled him to his feet. “No! Slaver wasps! Coming fast!”

A look of loathing crossed Gil’s face. “That cursed Hive Engine! What was Beetle thinking?”

Unsteadily, they broke into a trot towards the exit. “What were you thinking?” snapped Agatha. “How did you get in here?”

They turned the corner and skidded to a stop. Before them a tide of small machines ran to meet them, swarming around Agatha’s feet, producing a noise that sounded suspiciously like small, tinny cheers. “Your little clanks,” Gil explained. “They opened the door. They’re amazing.”

Agatha felt a surge of hope. “That’s great! Then we can leave!”

She turned to run, but Gil grabbed her arm and hauled her in a different direction. “No,” he explained, “I had them seal the door behind us. I didn’t know what was in here.”

“Then… then we’re trapped!” She glanced back and slowed at what she saw. “Wait—my little clanks can’t keep up.”

Again Gil jerked her forward. “They’ll catch up, and they’re in no danger. It’s us the wasps want. Now hurry! My main lab is just ahead. If I can seal it off, we can wait for my father.”

They turned another corner, but outside the lab doors, they saw several of the insect creatures freeze briefly, and then scuttle rapidly towards them.

With an oath, Gilgamesh steered them into the first room they found and slammed the door behind them. They looked around, panting. The room was bare of furniture, but was lined with shelves, cabinets and bins filled with racks of various devices.

“This is your electrical parts storage locker,” Agatha noted.

Gil finished securing the door to a sturdy rack of shelves with a coil of heavy-duty cable. As he stepped back, the door shuddered as something slammed into it from the other side. “That might do,” he muttered. “But we’ve no time to waste.”

“But we should be okay now, right?” Agatha looked around with interest. “Once we equip ourselves from your arsenal, those things shouldn’t stand a chance.”

Gil looked blank. “My what?”

“Your weapons. The stuff you’ve built.” Agatha rubbed her hands together in gleeful anticipation. “I wondered where they were. So any chance of a good Death Ray? That’d be perfect!”

Gil looked appalled. “I don’t have a Death Ray!”

Agatha blinked. “What, it’s an early prototype or something?”

“I don’t have a Death Ray.”

A sudden realization filled Agatha. She blushed in sympathy and with a gentle smile she placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sure that next time you’ll build a much bigger one, but trust me, right now any Death Ray, will do, no matter how—”

“I. DO. NOT. HAVE. A. DEATH. RAY!” Gil shouted.

Agatha stared at him in disbelief, and with an exasperated puff blew a lock of hair out of her face. “Don’t be ridiculous. Dr. Beetle had stuff like that all over the place. You must have something.” She scratched her nose. “Sonic Cannon?”

“No.”

“Disintegration Beam?”

“No.”

“You must have some sort of Doomsday Device. We can modify it. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“I don’t have anything like that!”

They stared at each other.

“Fine. So what you’re telling me is that you—Gilgamesh Wulfenbach—the person next in line to the despotic, iron-fisted rule of the Wulfenbach Empire—have no deadly, powerful weapons lying around whatsoever! That’s just great! What kind of an Evil Overlord are you going to be, anyway?”

“Apparently a better one than I’d thought,” Gil said, suddenly thoughtful.

Suddenly, with a series of sharp thuds, a swordlike arm punched its way through the door. It was joined by several others, and using the opening, rapidly expanded it.

A canister of old fencing swords was next to a cupboard. Gil grabbed two and faced off against the wasps struggling to get at them. “Build something!” he ordered Agatha.

“What?”

“I’ll hold them off, you build your own damn Death Ray!”

“But I don’t know how! You should—”

“You can’t fight—but you’re a Spark!”

“But—”

“Or we’ll die—or worse!” With that he turned away from her and sliced away at a wasp that had managed to cram itself through the door.

Agatha backed into a corner. “Got to think.” She gasped as a razor-edged claw sliced through Gil’s boot. Deliberately she turned away. “Got to think!” The noise was becoming overwhelming. It sounded like dozens of creatures hammering and tearing away at the metal door. Sounds became magnified. The sound of sword striking chitin, the smashing of equipment, the slow rending of the metal door, even the slow steady breathing of Gil as he wove a curtain of death before him.

“Too much noise,” Agatha whispered. “I have to think.” And softly at first, then quickly gaining strength, a complicated atonal humming filled the room. Agatha stood stock still for several seconds, and then her head snapped forward, her eyes filled with a furious purpose.

Meanwhile Gil found himself being slowly pushed back by the sheer weight of numbers. It didn’t help that the wasps seemed capable of taking an extraordinary amount of damage before their brain admitted that they were dead, and even in death, they tended to lash out, as the numerous tears ands gashes covering his arms and legs attested to. “I’d better be right about you,” he muttered. One of the swords bent as it hit an internal structure. He was only barely able to wrench it out in time to parry a darting bladelike arm. A wrenching groan was his only warning, but he was able to leap backwards as a section of the ceiling collapsed, raining a fresh wave of Slaver wasps across the floor. Another step backwards and he found himself surrounded by empty canisters, which were just tall enough to hamper his movement. Suddenly his swords were occupied and another bug flashed towards him, its saberlike arms upraised.

A pair of copper rods drove into the wasp’s eye. And a cascade of sparks erupted. The creature jerked frantically and then collapsed. The other wasps froze in surprise. Gil looked behind him.

There stood Agatha, a fierce grin on her face. In one hand she had the mysterious Heterodyne sphere. Connected to it was a supple cable, which ended at a bizarre-looking swordlike object, which crackled and continually threw off great arcing Jacobs ladders. “HA!” she cried. “It works!”

Gilgamesh scrambled to his feet. “You did it!”

“Sure did.” Agatha tossed him a large rubberized gauntlet, identical to the one she was wearing on her right hand. He quickly slid it on as she tossed him another sword, which was also attached to the glowing blue orb. “Here. You’re the fencer.”

Together they returned their attention to the again advancing bugs. Whenever they touched the wasps, the insects jerked and died instantly. “You used part of my lightning generator,” Gil observed.

“Yes, the Heterodyne device can recharge it instantly.”

“Good job. I never thought to test it as a power source, but I’d really thought there was more to it.” As he said this, both he and Agatha smacked the same bug at the same time. It jerked once, crackling, and when they swung their swords away, it clattered to the ground like a collection of scrap iron.

They pushed out into the hallway, effortlessly scything down wasps. Gil nodded approvingly as Agatha swept her sword in an arc that took out three wasps at one swipe. “I thought you didn’t fence,” he remarked.

“This isn’t fencing!” she retorted. “This is swinging wildly!” A frantic series of such swings on both of their parts brought them almost face to face, slightly tangled in the cords. Gil’s face was glistening with sweat and a small cut oozed on his cheek. Agatha was breathing heavily and grimly determined. Their eyes locked. They froze and swayed fractionally closer—and then whirled away as an attacking arm slashed through the place they’d been.

“Couldn’t you have used a longer cable?” Gil groused.

“It’s what was there,” Agatha snarled.

Gil shrugged. “Okay. So now what do we do?”

Agatha looked at him askance as she fried an unwary wasp. “Um… we should try to get out of here?”

“We could head for the exit,” Gil conceded, “but that won’t solve the problem.”

“You’re saying we have to stop them at the source. We’ve got to destroy the Hive Engine.”

“As long as we’re here.”

Agatha drove her sword up into a wasp’s mouth causing its head to explode. “Then we’d better get going.”

Around Castle Wulfenbach, the ever-present cloud of attendant airships began to shift. Ships carrying emergency crew and marines began to head towards loading docks, while shuttle and passenger ships removed non-essential personnel.

One such ship was carrying away the students and other children. On one of the observation decks, Theo had commandeered the largest of the great brass telescopes and was training it upon the laboratory decks. “Well,” he reported to the others, “there’s wasps all over the place. But I still don’t see any resistance.”

“Let me look,” said Sleipnir. Theo yielded the telescope.

“At least I couldn’t see any outside the lab area,” he said, “so I guess the doors—”

“Omigosh!” Sleipnir yelled. “It’s Gil and Agatha! They’re in the labs! They’re fighting wasps!”

“Let me see!”

Sleipnir defended her position with a deft kick to Theo’s knee. “They’re using swords and—wait. They just vanished!”

“What?”

“No—There they are. I must’ve—no, they’re gone—they’re back—” Sleipnir furiously knuckled her eyes. “What the heck is wrong with my eyes?”

Sun Ming pushed her aside and peered through the eyepiece. “No, I see it too. They’re vanishing,” she announced. “I wonder how they’re doing that?”

Theo scribbled a quick note and handed it to Von Tock, the boy with the clock in his head. “Have the message light send this to the Baron right away. He’s got to know.” The boy nodded and dashed off. “I hope the Baron can get to them in time.”

Sleipnir grinned. “Why wait?”

Theo’s eyebrows perked upwards. “Go rescue them ourselves? Intriguing…” His eyes slid over towards Zulenna. “But the life gliders will be guarded.”

Zulenna tossed her head. “Probably by a man.” With that she gave her torso a supple little twitch that caused Theo to blink and swallow. “And there’s no male guard on this ship that can resist a beautiful and oh-so-lonely princess.”

Theo nodded as he picked up a large spanner and cheerfully smacked it into his palm. “That’s the truth.”

Behind them Sleipnir rolled her eyes. “I cannot believe that works every time.”

Hezekiah shrugged. “It always works on me.”

Leaving the younger children in the care of the governesses, the students slipped out into the main hallway. Moving through the ship proved to be almost disappointingly easy, as things were so confused that their passage went unnoticed. The bay they had chosen for their departure was indeed guarded by a lone soldier. He was young and good looking, and was lounging against the entrance, quietly eating an apple while gazing at the panorama of ships spread out before him.

Zulenna looked him over, gave Theo a silent thumbs up, and then wandered into the bay.

Instantly the apple disappeared and the soldier snapped to attention. “This area is off limits, Miss.”

Zulenna appeared startled. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was just…” She shuddered. “It’s all so horrible. I was just looking for something… someone to take my mind off what’s happening.” She looked up at him with large luminous eyes, which blinked in surprise as she saw the guard’s weapon pointing at her chest.

“It is very horrible, Miss. I remember when wasps wiped out my village. It started with people acting all odd.”

Zulenna faltered, then gamely rallied with a shy smile. “Really?”

The guard’s weapon didn’t move a millimeter. “Oh yes. For instance, if a snooty little princess who had, just last week, upbraided a hard-working member of the ship’s guard because he’d neglected to do up a collar button even though he was off duty, suddenly came slinking in like a Parisian streetwalker, just waiting for the proper moment to burst into soppy crocodile tears—why that’d be suspicious enough that any experienced soldier’d haul her off to the brig.” He prodded the now scarlet-faced Zulenna in the stomach with the end of his rifle. “Now let’s move along, eh?”

Mechanically Zulenna wheeled about and strode off, causing her captor to hurry after her, which helped explain why he didn’t see Theo step out from behind a duct and smack him smartly across the back of the head. He collapsed forward onto the deck.

Zulenna saw Sleipnir valiantly trying to keep from laughing. “Very well, I will concede that there’s one who can resist.”

Sleipnir shrugged. “Personally, I’m rather glad the Baron’s troops are so well trained. I feel so much safer, don’t you?” Zulenna deigned to reply, but carefully placed the soldier comfortably against a bulkhead, and then delicately arranged his arms so that one thumb was in his mouth while the forefinger of the other hand was lodged deeply within his nose.

“Now you’re just being petty,” Sleipnir observed.

Zulenna rose and dusted her hands together before smiling beatifically. “Quite.”

Meanwhile the others had found the personal flyers. These were small dirigible shaped balloons attached to harnesses, fitted with large bat-like wings, which the user could control with long rods. For emergency use only, the flyers were capable of slowing a person’s fall enough that they would have an excellent chance of surviving should they have to abandon one of the great airships in mid-flight. The students had long ago discovered that the flyers also be used to glide from ship to ship, providing that the ship you started from was sufficiently higher than your destination. This was, of course, strictly forbidden, and it had been weeks since they’d done it last.

Zulenna and Sleipnir entered just as Theo finished circumventing the tripwire alarm. Nicodeamus was using the gas tanks to inflate a pair of flyers for the girls. “You know, this is really stupid,” he cheerfully informed them.

Sleipnir buckled herself into her rig while Zulenna checked her connections. “Oh. You just noticed?”

Zulenna patted his shoulder, then began to pull her own flyer on. “You can stay here.”

Nicodeamus waved. “Nah. Just making conversation.” He snuck a quick look at Zulenna, who pretended not to notice, but once Sleipnir had patted her shoulder and turned away, she leaned in and placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

They joined the others lined up at the opening. Before them was the crenellated wall that was Castle Wulfenbach, stretching away in all directions. Scale was provided by the support ships that were moving to and fro between them. Theo pointed out the nearest windsock, and then to a landing deck several hundred feet below them on the Castle. “We’ll aim for Docking Bay 451. That’s closest to an armory.” Nicodeamus tossed out a scrap of paper. With an aeronaut’s experienced eye, they all watched it flutter away in the wind and plotted their trajectories accordingly.

Theo moved up to the lip and grinned. “Okay, you brats, let’s go!” Without pause, he launched himself over the edge, and with a whoop, the others followed.

A troop of Jägers sloped down the hallway, looking like a parade sergeant’s personal vision of Hell. Sloping was a combination of loping and slouching developed by the Jägerkin. To the untrained eye, it looked like they were ambling along in a disorganized fashion. A closer look and you saw that they were traveling at a respectable clip, and prolonged observation revealed that they could do it for a very long time over a wide variety of terrain. As with many Jäger practices, it had been developed to annoy other people. Particularly Boris.

Despite the haste, great care was taken to keep their uniforms straight, and several were brushing their hats and buffing their braid even as they moved forward. There was a palatable excitement amongst them, and much boasting and declarations regarding the number of wasps that were about to be killed, stomped, and (possibly) eaten.

The other Castle personnel hastily hugged the side of the corridor as they approached, and only dared to breathe again when they had passed. With each yard they covered, they became more and more excited, until they poured around a corner into a large intersection and stopped dead, the ones in the back flowing forward until the entire corridor was a solid sea of Jägerkin.

Before them, in the center of the intersection, stood Von Pinn. Still as a statue. As soon as they stopped moving, she slowly moved with a leathery creak. Wordlessly she approached them and glided from one end of the crowd to the other. As her gaze swept them, each Jägermonster felt themselves snapping to attention, some of them for the first time in years. Without a word she spun away and headed off down the hallway ahead of them. Three meters away, she stopped, twisting about, gave them a toothy come-hither look over her shoulder, and whispered, “Well? What are you waiting for? Let’s go squash some bugs.”

With a roar that was heard throughout half of the Castle, the Jägers leapt forward and headed for battle.

The Baron’s squad moved into position. It moved slowly because of the constant stream of unicycle messengers that darted in and out with reports from other parts of the vast dirigible.

Boris scanned the latest missive. “The main troop of Jägermonsters have engaged the bugs in Docking Bay 422.” He waved the note. “They seem especially enthusiastic.”

Klaus nodded. “It’s been a while since they really fought.”

From the corridor behind, a young voice rang out. “Personal message for the Baron! Clear the way! Stand aside!” Noiselessly, a tall brass unicycle wove through the crowd and the rider slid from the seat in front of the Baron. From a large pouch on the front of her uniform, she pulled out a note, which the bright yellow paper identified as being from the Heliography Corps. Klaus unfolded it, scanned it quickly, and went pale.

Concerned, Boris leaned in. “Are you all right, Herr Baron?”

“Gilgamesh has been spotted within the laboratory section. He is fighting wasps.” Klaus’ voice was rock steady, but Boris noticed that the note had been crushed. Klaus took a deep breath, and continued. “He is my son. He will survive.” He looked around at the retainers gathered around him. “But he still needs a talking to. Let’s go get him, shall we?” With a shout of affirmation, the group broke into a trot and headed off down the hallway.

Agatha gasped and dropped to her knees. By a supreme effort of will she kept the point of her sword up, but nothing impacted upon it. She looked up. Gil stood over her, a light sweat covering his face. His left sleeve was in tatters from where an extremely agile wasp had managed to get a bit too close. Blood oozed from several lacerations, but he breathed easily, his head and sword gliding easily back and forth keeping the wasps that surrounded them at bay.

They had entered a larger room, Agatha noticed. It was filled with crates and large barrels. The wasps, while certainly visible, had pulled back, and were circling them warily. “But they’ve stopped attacking.”

Gil nodded. “Yes, of course. We’re already heading towards the Slaver Engine.”

“But I thought they were defending it.”

“To a degree, but once they’ve established a perimeter, they’ll begin to herd everyone inside it towards the Engine at the center. Once the actual Slavers hatch, then we’ll be taken over and it will be our job to defend the Engine.”

Agatha looked ill. Everyone knew what happened to people who were taken over by Slaver wasps. She looked up at Gil. “Kill me first,” she whispered.

Gil nodded slowly. “I will.” That said, he offered her his hand and helped her to her feet. As they moved deeper into the room, the wasps began to scuttle backwards, losing themselves within the dimly lit stacks. By the time they came to the next hallway, the bugs had all vanished.

The hallway was dark and low ceilinged. The few lighting fixtures they could see had been smashed. They turned a bend and the next room came into view. It was one of the experimental bays in the Baron’s section of the lab. The ceiling faded into the distance, and the metal walls were dimly lit by a collection of glowing machinery. Suddenly a massive form in the center shifted and Agatha realized that it was the activated Hive Engine.

The great sphere had split, and the creature within had uncoiled itself. A messy collection of things that might have been tentacles, or simply entwined pipes and cables, had spilled out around it. A pool of thick liquid collected around the base. Rising upward was a horrible amalgamation of flesh and machinery. Two glowing red eyes blinked myopically while it snorted and gasped like a broken steam radiator. It shook itself and rose higher, not stopping until it was almost four meters tall.

Gil looked sick. “How do we kill that?” he mumbled.

Agatha dug her fingers into his arm. “Quickly,” she whispered back.

Suddenly, on the various bits of machinery adorning the creature’s head, a series of lights flicked on. Its eyes rolled up into its head, its great lantern-fish jaw dropped open and a long low note boomed out. Gil stiffened.

“What was that?” Agatha asked.

“Bad news,” Gil replied. “The Slaver swarm is about to hatch. If we’re going to attack it, we have to do it now!”

Just as Agatha nodded and tensed, the walls around them unfolded to reveal dozens of Slaver wasps, which had been hiding in the darkness. Moving almost too fast to see, they reached out and grabbed Agatha and Gil and held them steady. The swords were knocked from their grasps and clattered to the floor, sparking uselessly.

Above them, the Slaver Queen shuddered, opened its maw even wider, and a single insect-like creature darted out. It zipped upward and then paused.

Agatha felt her arms pulled tight and her head tipped backwards, forcing her mouth open. From the corner of her eye, she saw Gil suffer through the same procedure.

Then the tiny Slaver wasp twitched its body, folded its wings and dove straight towards her open mouth.