Gareth and th Lost Island

by Patrick Mallard

  Izzy brought herself under control, and smiled at her boyfriend. “Sorry for laughing, Gareth. It’s just that aside from Pilot, the rest of us from the old crew all have bounties put out on us from one place or another,” she explained.

  Pilot coughed to clear his throat. “Engineer of the HMS Glorious Dawn, that is not quite accurate. The Sultan of Burtyne has offered a sizeable amount of money for my capture,” he corrected her.

  “I never knew that. What did you do to anger him?” Izzy inquired.

  Pilot gave Izzy a smug smile, and replied, “A gentleman does not kiss and tell, Engineer.”

  “Look at you,” Izzy said proudly before she remembered what they were talking about originally. “What I’m trying to say is, one more bounty won’t make that much of a difference, especially one from the IRD. Nutless already blacklisted us when Elizabeth wouldn’t take him up on his offer of going back to his place, while his wife was at some pub,” she explained. The rest of the crew nodded in agreement.

  Gareth met the eyes of each of his crew in turn. All of the biological ones looked like they were ready to follow him on a six month cruise through all levels of the hells. He still couldn’t read the mannerisms of his mechanical crew, but he was getting better at it day by day. Gareth pulled out a map of the IRD, and put it down on the table. “All right then, here’s my plan…” he stated with a malicious grin.

  A few days after Gareth called his crew meeting, the Dean of the University Arcanum stood proudly with the Nutleiss brothers on a raised platform in front of the newly constructed (and unoriginally named) Professors Only Spa. A wide, red ribbon was stretched across the platform, and a giant pair of scissors leaned against the wooden podium at the center.

  “My fellow Professors, I bid you welcome to the ribbon cutting ceremony of what is most assuredly a welcome addition to our fine University. Thanks to the leadership of Professor Nutleiss, and the generous gifts from his brother, we now have a place to sequester ourselves away from the throngs of students who plague our daily lives,” the Dean stated, even though he hadn’t actually spoken to a student in over ten years. “After the Nutleiss brothers cut the ribbon, we will let the staff into the building, where they will start scheduling appointments for manicures, pedicures, and back waxing,” he announced to happy applause.

  The applause petered out as a dark shadow crept over the podium and the assembled professors. They looked up, and found themselves staring at a magnificent golden airship of unknown origin. It settled a mere 20 feet off the ground between the professors and the new spa. At the bow of the ship, a man in a black uniform stood with his hands clasped behind his back next to the deck railing. His long hair was pulled back in a ponytail to proudly display his pointed ears. It took the Dean a few minutes before he recognized the commanding figure above him. “Professor Mintel?!” he asked, not believing his own eyes.

  Gareth unclasped his hands, and leaned on the railing to get a better look at the “dignitaries” below him. “Oh, hello, Dean. Hello Nutless brothers, fancy meeting you lot here,” he called out cheerfully.

  “What are you doing here, boy!?” Deek Nutleiss snarled.

  “Sorry, Dick, I thought your brother would have mentioned that I promised to return when I had proof that I had found the Lost Island of Mascal,” Gareth replied.

  Professor Nutleiss got over his shock, and sneered up at the young man. “Do you honestly think some silly costume and a big airship is enough to convince us you actually found an island that has been lost for over 13,000 years?” he scoffed.

  Gareth’s smile in reply caused both of the Nutleiss brothers to experience balls of ice in the pit of their stomachs. “I suspected that closed minded fools like yourselves would need more convincing, so I would like to introduce you to some friends of mine. RENE, DAR-C, Kevin, come over here and say hello to the not so nice humans,” he stated. Gasps could be heard from almost all of the assembled professors as the three Automatons joined Gareth at the railing.

  Kevin waved his hand in greeting and said, “Heloooo, not so nice humans.”

  Professor Nutleiss pointed an accusing finger at Gareth. “How dare you bring such abominations here?!” he demanded.

  The Dean shoved Professor Nutleiss into a chair. “Shut up, Nutless. This is the discovery of several lifetimes,” he ordered. The Dean redirected his attention towards his new favorite professor. “Well, done my boy, well done. I never doubted you would be up to the task of finding Mascal,” the Dean lied. “I hereby grant your tenureship with the University Arcanum effective immediately, and welcome you into the fellowship of Senior Professors,” he proclaimed.

  Gareth clenched his jaw, and sucked in a breath before responding. “Yeah, about my position at the University. I quit,” he said, shocking the other professors to their cores. “I have a new job as Captain of the HMS Glorious Dawn. A duty I hope to perform for a good number of years,” he explained.

  “What?! You can’t just quit after making the greatest discovery in the last 13,000 years! Think about what you can do for the University, my dear boy!” the Dean protested.

  It was now the Dean’s turn to feel the cold fingers of dread caressing his spine when he looked up at Gareth, and saw the smile on the young man’s face. “Oh don’t worry, Dean. I would never think of leaving the University Arcanum without some sort of parting gift,” Gareth assured him before stepping back from the railing, and turning to face those on deck. “Tralnis, Elizabeth, please give them the gift of seeing what happens when you annoy the crew of the HMS Glorious Dawn,” he stated loud enough for those on the ground to hear.

  “It will be my pleasure, Captain,” Elizabeth said as she pivoted the barrel of the Sun gun towards the new spa.

  “Oooooh, I’m going to enjoy this,” Tralnis chortled, rubbing his hands together before aiming the main gun at the spa as well. Like they had planned, Tralnis took the first shot, and sent an explosive sphere crashing through the ceiling of the building. The resulting explosion threw timber and stone in every direction. Elizabeth swept the focused beam of sunlight across the rubble to make sure anything flammable would indeed go up in flames.

  Gareth returned to the railing, this time with Henry and Tralnis at his side. Chomper’s stood behind the Henry, eager to slice, dice, and puree his Chef’s enemies. “Cheer up, Dean. At least the spa will go down in history as being the first ground target destroyed by the Royal Mascalian Air Navy in over 13,000 years,” he suggested.

  Henry snarled and blew air over his lips.

  “Oh yes, you’re quite right, Henry. I did promise. Thank you for reminding me,” he said loudly before scooting down the railing to give Henry some room to work.

  Before anyone could react, both the Dean and Professor Nutleiss were the recipients of two handfuls of flung poo. As they wiped the brown sludge from their faces, they saw Henry, Tralnis, and Gareth waving a cheery goodbye to them. The odd family symbolically turned their backs on the University Arcanum, and made their way to the bridge.

  Pilot put down a telescope he had been using, and addressed his friends. “Small Doctor, Poo Flinging Chim, and Captain of the HMS Glorious Dawn, I have spotted police airships being scrambled from the airship port,” he informed them.

  Gareth settled down into the Captain’s chair, and smiled. “In that case, Pilot, I suggest you get us out of here,” he stated.

  “At once, Captain of the HMS Glorious Dawn,” pilot responded, and pushed the throttle level forward. The sound of power being built up rose, and then fell sharply. The ship remained steadfastly where it was.

  Gareth pinched the bridge of his nose, and picked up the speaking tube that led directly to the engine room. “Izzy, any chance you can get us some power up here?” he requested nicely.

  “Just a minute, Sweetie. I’m going to give this thing a ‘kinetic displacement’ it won’t soon forget,” Izzy assured him. Over the speaking tube, Gareth could clearly make out the sound of Izzy smacking the central rune array with a very large wren
ch.

  The sound of power building returned as Gareth turned around in his seat to look at the rapidly approaching police airships. He could make out the black and white paint scheme on the gas sacks. “Like I said. Get us out of here, Pilot,” Gareth ordered again, this time with a bit of anxiety in his voice.

  Pilot shoved the throttle forward again, flooding the Aetherium tubes with Dark Magic. Those on the ground saw the airship’s lifting tubes flare with a bright, purple light before the ship streaked away at speeds much faster than any regular airship could possibly hope to match.

  As they made their escape, the former scholar turned airship captain leaned back in his chair, and smiled. “Let’s go see what other trouble we can get into,” Gareth suggested.