Agatha H. and the Airship City

by Phil Foglio; Kaja Foglio

  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.

  CHAPTER 9

  Little Mary has bugs inside her head—

  Inside her head, inside her head.

  Now The Baron’s gonna come and make her dead—

  Make her dead, make her dead.

  But Mary puts bugs in little Karl instead—

  In Karl instead, in Karl instead.

  So little Karl has bugs inside his head—

  Inside his head, inside his head.

  Now The Baron’s gonna come and make him dead—

  Make him dead, make him dead…

  —Children’s naming game

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “What do we do now?” Agatha asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Anything?” he ventured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “FALL BACK!” Klaus roared.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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