Agatha H. and the Airship City (14 page)

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!”

CHAPTER 5

Monsters and machines blotting out the sun

Fighting in a war that never can be won.

The men in the castles are having lots of fun

And all we can do is run, run, run.

—Traditional children’s song

“I am Von Pinn,” the ominous figure continued, “I am in charge here. You—” she gave the dangling Agatha a sharp shake, “are Agatha Clay. I have not heard good things about you.” She indicated the children who were frozen into immobility around the room. “I take the safety of these children
very seriously,
and I have just witnessed an example of your reckless behavior.”

Agatha tried to break in. “The flying machine? But I didn’t— urk”

Von Pinn loosened the grip that had cut Agatha off. “Understand that you are here to keep a minor Spark in line. Nothing more. I will not permit you to place any of my charges in danger.”

“I wouldn’t—gurk!”

Von Pinn’s voice became even more ominous. “I have also heard reports of your tendency towards
indecency
. Your upbringing has obviously been
shockingly
lax. This is no doubt the fault of your parents.”

A small switch in Agatha’s head clicked over from “scared” to “angry.” “Oh, now hold on! My parents—” She was jerked to within inches of Von Pinn’s face.
“Silence!
I am aware of the swinish behavior of the
lower classes.”
Agatha’s eyes bulged. “You… I… If…”

“While you are in my care you will conduct yourself in a more seemly fashion. And despite any pathetic dreams you may have about ‘bettering your position’—I assure you that Master Gilgamesh, in particular, will not be taken by your slatternly ways.”

Agatha grasped Von Pinn’s arm and glared at her in fury. “I wouldn’t have your Master Gilgamesh if you stripped him naked and dipped him in
cheese!”

Everyone watching, gasped. Von Pinn’s face froze. Slowly she brought Agatha’s face to within an inch of her own. “And what,” she asked dangerously, “is wrong with Master Gilgamesh?”

Rage filled Agatha and exploded outwards. “PUT ME DOWN YOU WRETCHED
CONSTRUCT!”

Instantly Von Pinn’s hand snapped open and Agatha fell to the floor. A look of shock and horror crossed Von Pinn’s face as she stared at her open hand. That look changed to fury and she turned to face a dazed Agatha, her hands forming into claws, when suddenly, a soft chiming sound came from her waist. Faster then the eye could follow, a hand dipped into a hidden pocket and extracted a small gold pocket watch. Von Pinn glanced at it and snapped the cover shut. When she looked at Agatha, she was once again in control.

“I have a class in three minutes. I am never late. I will deal with you later.”

Agatha stood up.
“Deal
with me by
listening
to me. I—”A puff of displaced air and the slamming of the door at the end of the room announced Von Pinn’s departure.

Agatha blinked. “Wow. That was
fast
. How does she—?” It was then that she noticed the circle of open-mouthed faces staring at her in astonishment. The tableaux continued for several seconds before Agatha broke it with a sharp “What?” This was the signal for all of the children under six to begin crying at the top of their lungs.

“What did I do?” Agatha asked Sleipnir as she held a sobbing four-year-old.

“You got Von Pinn riled up.” A boy who appeared to be about twelve, with a small silver clock imbedded in his forehead, started tossing a little girl up into the air. “Sleipnir said you were friendly. She neglected to mention that you were
suicidal.”

A tall, dark skinned, young man with sleek black hair pulled back into a short ponytail emerged from one of the apartments. He took in the situation and then stepped up to the railing and his voice boomed out. “Hey! Who wants to hear a Heterodyne story?”

Startled, the children stared at him and then began clamoring in assent, their fear forgotten. The young man settled down at the top of the steps and made a great show of scratching his chin in thought. “Well now, what’s a good one?” The children clustered about his feet and made suggestions.

One boy stood slightly apart from the rest and crossed his arms defiantly. “Aw, the Heterodyne Boys weren’t real people.” This caused the children to gasp in surprise.

The young man turned to him. “Of course they were, Olaf. The Baron used to work with them. My Aunt Lucrezia
married
one of them. They’re real people all right.”