by Sean Cullen
Mimi’s interest was immediately piqued. She peered down at the Guards performing their manoeuvres. “They shore do look smart in their uniforms.”
“Maybe you could join the Guards, Mimi,” Aidan suggested. Cara looked mortified at the thought. Mimi scowled, trying not to look interested, but Parveen could tell that she was.
They passed through the ceiling into the next chamber.
“Welcome to the Nurtury!” The cavern was smaller again than the ones below, though still larger than the entire Windcity Orphanage and Cheese Factory. They ascended halfway up through the cavern and stopped. Terraced balconies rose all the way up the sides, turning it into a sort of ribbed bowl. Everywhere, children were sitting in groups of different ages, writing, reading, or watching a raccoon who seemed to be teaching.
“Under King Tse Shiao, the Nurtury was designed as a teaching centre for the children in the Hollow Mountain. They go to school each day.” The car rose gently, passing tier after tier of classrooms. As the levels got higher the children got older. Raccoons and sometimes the older children were teaching all sorts of different classes. “The children leave here with the finest education we can provide … which is extremely good, given that I designed the curriculum.”
“George,” the King scolded gently. “Humility is attractive, especially in super-intelligent artificial minds.”
“Of course, your Majesty.”
“Thank you for the tour, George,” the King said suddenly. “Take us to the Royal Chambers now, please.”
“But there are still King Franklin’s Hanging Gardens … and the Bubble Works. Oh, and the Raccoon Works, where I repair my raccoon units. It’s very interesting.”
“All in good time. I’m sure Mimi and Parveen are weary after their trip and would like some refreshment.” Looking at the King’s drawn face and the dark circles under his eyes, Mimi understood that he could use a little rest himself. His hands quivered where they held the crutches, and Cara’s hand gripped his elbow tightly.
“Of course,” said George. “Royal Chambers, next stop!” The elevator zoomed aloft. Parveen and Mimi both thought the same thing as they looked out at the disappearing terraces with their classrooms filled with happy children. This place is heaven. I wish we could stay here and never have to worry about the ODA again.
The elevator slid to a stop. The doors hissed open to reveal an airy, open platform finished in beautiful silver and black tiles, all bearing the silver cross of the King of Switzerland. Standing on the platform were two identical raccoons. The Royal Chambers was apparently the elevator’s last stop. The shaft ended in an elaborate stone cabin.
“Majesty.” The two raccoons ducked their little heads in unison.
“Some food for our guests. In the sitting room, I think.”
“All prepared, Majesty.” They scurried away through a stone archway. The King and his guests followed. Mimi turned to say goodbye to George but found that it was a little awkward saying goodbye to an empty car. Besides, if what the AI said was true, he hadn’t left. He was there in the form of the two raccoon robot things. She shrugged. “This is gonna take some gettin’ used to.” The others had already headed off after their furry little guides, and Mimi hastened to catch up.
Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet
“You are not permitted to trespass on Swiss territory. Reverse your vehicles and report to the nearest authorities immediately.”
The face of the Swiss Minister of Defence was furious; the throbbing vein in the centre of his forehead looked dangerously close to bursting.
Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet gazed up at the plasma screen emotionlessly. They were strapped into the transport truck’s two swivel seats, with the screen before them serving as a map. The screen also showed little grey icons that represented agents in the other trucks in the convoy. The defence minister was relegated to a small square in the upper right corner of the screen.
“The ODA will not be interfered with, Minister. I suggest you let us go about our business before we leave your silly little country. Otherwise, we take no responsibility for the ensuing unpleasantness.” Mr. Sweet sounded polite but bored.
The minister of defence went a deeper shade of purple. He leaned in close so that his face filled the screen. “Switzerland is a sovereign nation! We will not be bullied. We will react with the strongest possible measures.”
“Minister, do what you must. You have harboured our enemy in your midst for centuries.” Mr. Candy was completely devoid of emotion. (No surprise, really.) “He has taken a valuable asset of ours. We will take it back. Try to stop us and you will be destroyed.”
The Defence Minister bugged out his eyes in fury. Before he could retort, Mr. Sweet cut the feed.
“They can’t stop us now,” Mr. Sweet said with confidence. “We are about to arrive at the location where the beacon fired.”
The convoy of tracked vehicles churned the green turf of the meadow where the Orphan Queen had rested only hours before. Rabbits, so recently recovered from the shock of the airship’s arrival, once again voided their stomachs in a graphic display of fear.
Mr. Candy stopped the vehicle and pulled the periscope down, peering through the eyepiece. He was disappointed to find only grass, mountains, and the still forms of vomit-covered rabbits littering the ground. Gouges in the turf showed that an airship had not long ago dropped anchor here.
“We’re too late.”
“Indeed, Mr. Candy. Indeed.”
Chapter 8
They passed through a huge stone chamber as big as a church, with an ornately carved throne inlaid with gold positioned at one end. The whole effect was very imposing.
The King waved a hand towards the throne and sniffed. “Showy and uncomfortable. I use it only when important dignitaries come to visit …” He stopped and thought for a moment. “Which is never, actually. It’s a terrible waste of space. I should convert it to a squash court or something useful like that. George, remind me later, will you?”
“Yes, Majesty. Duly noted.” The two raccoons moved and walked in unison. Parveen watched them waddle ahead with fascination. He knew they were artificial, but they were so cleverly constructed that they looked absolutely real. He longed to take one of them apart and examine its inner workings. He also wanted to see the place George talked about where the little devices were repaired. Parveen hoped there would be time. He fingered the pencil behind his ear in anticipation.
They meandered through a maze of winding stone corridors lit with flickering gas lamps. “The torches run on natural gas tapped from deposits deep under the earth,” the George raccoons explained as they ushered the newcomers into a comfortable little room. Broad, low tables were situated all around. On each was a complicated jigsaw puzzle in varying states of completion.
“I love puzzles,” King Liam announced. “They keep my mind nimble. George devises them to be the most difficult imaginable. He’s quite good.”
“A pleasure, Majesty. You solve them all. He’s quite clever.”
“Oh, George. You’re embarrassing me!” He looked around at the puzzles. “Yes. Puzzles are good exercise for the brain. And they make you see the big picture. It’s helpful …” He drifted into silence as he gazed at a half-completed puzzle of a sandy beach. “Aha!” He stretched out a trembling hand and tried to pick up a piece of puzzle, but his fingers were shaking badly. Parveen reached in and scooped up the piece, slotting it home in the centre of the puzzle.
“Thanks. I guess I’ve had a lot of excitement today.” King Liam rubbed one hand in the other. “It’s gets worse when I’m tired.” The rest of the room was cluttered but cozy. Piles of books leaned against the walls. A desk stood in the corner with a bright light shining overhead, illuminating an assortment of tiny tools and bits of metal and wire. The King led them past it and they saw that one entire wall was made of black tinted glass. As they were sitting down the King tapped the surface of the glass and it lightened to reveal the mountainside. The sun was up and the snow glistene
d in its rays.
The King smiled. “An addition by Queen Carletta. It’s nice to have a view. That’s one thing that’s bad about living inside the mountain: it’s too dangerous to have many windows onto the outside world for fear they may be discovered.” He turned away from the view and spread his hands. “Sit! Please, make yourselves comfortable.”
The King of Switzerland sank gratefully into an armchair, hanging his crutches on a hook installed for the purpose on the wall within arm’s reach. He indicated with a sweep of his hand two similar chairs resting before him. Mimi and Parveen sat down and looked around. The walls were decorated with a series of realistic portraits. The faces, of every race and colour, looked out from the canvases with piercing, lifelike gazes. They were young faces, but they seemed to convey a wealth of experience, a weight of responsibility that was humbling.
Aidan and Cara stood by the door, casual but alert.
“I wish you would relax, you two,” the King said, gesturing towards two empty chairs. “You should rest. Nothing can get us in here.”
“We are resting, Majesty. Don’t worry.” Aidan smiled and nodded at Cara, who also nodded.
“Suit yourselves.” The King shook his head. Then he turned his gaze on Parveen and Mimi. His eyes were kind. “Now, tell me your story, every bit of it. How did you come to be here? Leave nothing out.”
So Mimi and Parveen told the whole sad and sorry tale of how they ended up at Windcity Orphanage and Cheese Factory. They told of Viggo and of Mrs. Francis and her kindness. They told of cheese making, misery and woe, and the arrival of Hamish X. They told of their escape plans and the coming of the Cheese Pirates led by the horrible Cheesebeard. They told of their journey north and of Snow Monkey Island. They told of the death of Cheesebeard and the defection of Mr. Kipling and his betrothal to the sweet Mrs. Francis. Finally, they related the story of the destruction of Windcity, the thwarting of Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet, and of the knife’s activation, triggering their trip to Switzerland in search of a King they weren’t even sure existed.
They switched back and forth in the telling as the raccoons brought tea and cake, cheese and crackers, chocolate and more cheese. The King listened eagerly. He laughed and clapped his hands when he heard about the snow monkeys and the woolly mammoth and all the little details. When they at last reached the part about the Grey Agents and the knife and their trip across the ocean, he nodded and became thoughtful. It was completely dark outside the window when they finished their story. The King sat back as George (in the form of the two raccoons) cleared away the dishes and poured them glasses of cold glacier water, straight from the fountain.
“What an amazing tale,” the King said after a moment’s silent reflection. “You’ve already overcome so many obstacles, and then to take such a long journey on such scanty evidence.” He shook his head and clucked his tongue softly. “You are very brave indeed. Hamish X was lucky to find such friends.”
Mimi plunked down her glass and levelled a green-eyed stare at the King. “I think we’ve waited long enough. Ya heard our story. What’s yers?”
“Mimi,” Parveen said sharply. To Liam he said, “She’s a bit rude, but she means well.”
“And she’s right!” The King pushed himself to his feet. Deftly plucking one of his crutches from the hook, he pivoted away to look out over the mountainside. Blue gas lamps flickered softly in an almost imperceptible breeze. He leaned his bottom on the window frame and smiled at them. “What do you want to know?”
Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet
The valley was swarming with agents, combing the area for any sign of Hamish X’s passing. The agents wore grey field uniforms, covered in pockets. They had thick belts hung with pouches and grey helmets covered their heads, leaving only their begoggled faces exposed.
Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet sat in the cab of a truck with the engine idling. They surveyed the data coming in from the satellite cameras high above in orbit. The satellites were owned by the many governments the ODA had business with, commandeered despite vigorous protests from said governments. Nothing could be allowed to interfere with the search. Nothing.
A female agent came to the door of the truck and rapped on the window. Mr. Candy pressed a button and the window descended.
“No sign of the fugitives, Agent Candy. They seem to have vanished.”
“They can’t have vanished, Agent Fudge,” Mr. Candy snapped. “Keep searching.”
Agent Fudge nodded and turned away. Mr. Candy raised the window. Mr. Sweet was studying a small screen, his face outlined in the blue glow. He tapped a button and pictures flashed by.
“Nothing on the satellite photos. Neither in infrared nor ultraviolet spectrum.”
“We must find them. They can’t have just disappeared.” Mr. Candy leaned in to scan the pictures.
“We must assume the King of Switzerland is involved. We find the King and his infamous Hollow Mountain, and we find Hamish X.”
“Then it’s the same old problem. How do we find the King of Switzerland?”
Mr. Sweet had no answer to that question. He focused his attention on the latest satellite photos instead.
Chapter 9
The two children had so many questions that it was hard to choose just one. Parveen asked, “How did all this start?”
“And while yer at it … why?”
“How and why: the simple questions are always the most profound.30 All right, where to start? The beginning is a fine place,” the King laughed. “In the beginning, Switzerland was nothing more than a handful of little provinces always at war with one another and their neigh-bours. The constant fighting was draining on the economy and costly in human suffering. In particular, many children were left without anyone to care for them, mothers and fathers having been lost in the wars.
“At last, the parties involved were too weary to continue. One prince, Heinrich of Bern, was determined to make a lasting peace. He was a clever young boy of twelve, wise beyond his years. He stood to become the first King of Switzerland if all the warring factions could put aside their differences and agree to unite. His heart ached for the children who had been orphaned in the fighting and left to fend for themselves. He wanted to find a way to stop the fighting and take care of the lost children because he, like them, had lost his parents in the conflict.
“One of the major stumbling blocks was that the different parties couldn’t agree to any one person having absolute power. So Heinrich called all the leaders to a secret conference and negotiated a compromise. He would become King but only in name. Outwardly, Switzerland would be a republic run by a democratically elected parliament. He would serve as a mediator only if disputes arose. He would live in a secret location. He would retire from public life and public knowledge but, most importantly, he would dedicate his life to the care and protection of orphans.
“It was agreed. Heinrich became the first King of Switzerland. He searched high and low to find a place where he could make his dream a reality: a safe haven for foundlings and orphans. For over a year he searched through the mountains, but he couldn’t find anything that was suitable. Finally, after he had all but given up, he went on a mountain-climbing expedition. An avalanche swept down the mountain face. Everyone in his climbing party was killed and he narrowly escaped. To avoid being crushed, he ducked into a fissure31 in the cliff face only to find the cavern we occupy today.”
The King spread his hands to encompass the scene before them. “Of course, it was a good deal smaller and less comfortable then, but it was well hidden and had fresh water. It was a place to start. And so King Heinrich took possession of the Hollow Mountain and moved in the first orphans. Using his own money, he outfitted the cavern with all they needed to grow and prosper.
“And so it began. When Heinrich the Great grew old enough, he chose a successor from among the children under his protection and then went out into the world a free man. Thus began the tradition of Succession. The King picks his successor when he turns sixteen. Then he goes o
ut to live as a normal citizen, free of the burden of kingship, usually with a set of skills that will help him along the way.”
King Liam smiled. “I am due to move on soon. I have yet to pick my successor, but there are many who are truly worthy. Aidan or Cara, for example.”
Aidan held up a hand. “Sire, I told you before, all that responsibility doesn’t interest me.”
Cara shook her head. “Me neither. All that worry would give me wrinkles.” She tossed her head coquettishly.
“Oh brother,” Mimi muttered, earning a sneer from Cara.
“Over four hundred years have passed since Heinrich stumbled upon this refuge. Each King or Queen adds some new refinement. I’ve made a few improvements during my time, but perhaps my greatest contribution is yet to come …” Liam gazed off into the distance.
“Surely an operation like the Hollow Mountain must be very expensive to maintain,” Parveen said. “How do you manage?”
“We’re mostly self-sufficient. We grow our own food; we fish from the lake. We manufacture whatever we need here. The children and George manage very well. But besides that, we have a monopoly on a very important commodity, haven’t we, George?”
The two raccoons came into the room bearing a silver tray. On it was a wedge of yellow Swiss cheese, pocked with its famous holes. The nutty aroma of the cheese filled the room. Mimi groaned. “Don’t tell me ya make cheese here, too! I thought I’d slunk free o’ that when we left Windcity.”
King Liam laughed. “No, not cheese. But the holes in the cheese.”
“Whut?”
“The holes.” Liam pointed a long thin finger at one of the hollow bubbles in the expanse of cheese. “The characteristic holes in Swiss cheese are caused by an enzyme introduced during the cheese-making process. King Ludovig discovered the process and registered the patent. Swiss cheese just isn’t Swiss cheese without the holes. We collect a royalty every time the enzyme is used. The royalties add up very quickly. We have more than enough money to handle any expenses, with a sizable amount left over for investments. Through a number of false fronts and shell corporations,32 we have invested heavily worldwide. If, heaven forbid, the Hollow Mountain is ever compromised and we are forced to flee, the money will help us relocate.”