The first report was from Doktor Øy, the minor Spark in charge of the laboratory decks. Øy was accompanied by a squat clank that scooted about upon a single small wheel, clutching a bundle of notes in its manipulators and blinking two large round lensed “eyes” that gave it an owlish look. “Some time between midnight and 2 A.M.,” Øy began, “Someone activated the Hive Engine that my Baron discovered in the possession of the late Doctor Tarsus Beetle. It had been placed in the Large Dangerous Mechanical Lab. Doctor Vg was listed as working late in that lab. So far, we have yet to find Doctor Vg.”
There was a burst of static, and the clank chimed in. “A Hive Engine is just one of the many nefarious devices constructed by The Other, the mysterious über-Spark who decimated the Great Houses of Europa a generation ago.” Doktor Øy smacked the clank, and with a squeal, it subsided into silence.
Øy looked embarrassed. “Forgive me, Herr Baron, it has a bad habit of assuming that everyone around it is a child.”
The tool doesn’t fall far from the hand that built it, Klaus thought to himself. “Don’t worry,” Klaus assured him, “No one expects anything to work perfectly the first time.”
Doktor Øy, who had rebuilt his “Moveable File Cabinet and Brain Stimulation Companion” seventeen times, grinned weakly and continued.
“A hive engine of that size is reported to release approximately one hundred warrior wasps. The clean-up crews have reported finding ninety-eight of them. They are still searching, but it appears that we have found them all.”
Øy’s clank once again buzzed to life. “The fight to free Europa from the scourge of The Other supposedly ended over a decade ago, but hive engines and other devices are occasionally still found. This is the first time on record that one has been purposefully activated.” Doktor Øy was frantically slapping at a panel of buttons and switches on the clank’s side, then gave up and pulled a spanner out of his pocket. He incapacitated the mechanism with a single, brutal blow. With an apologetic grin, he dragged it from the room.
Klaus frowned. Øy’s clank had raised an important point. No sane person would have willingly activated a Hive Engine. He had to admit that there were plenty of non-sane personnel aboard Castle Wulfenbach, but there were limits. It was another puzzle, and the answer Klaus kept returning to was extremely troubling.
Also troubling was the ease with which the creatures had nearly overwhelmed Castle Wulfenbach’s defenders. The next man to report was Colonel Chakraborty—the grizzled old veteran who was in charge of onboard security.
Stoically, Chakraborty recited evidence of the probable path the creatures had taken through conduits and service corridors—a route that had allowed them to move around the airship for quite some time before being detected. The fact that the creatures had spread as far and as quickly as they had was inexcusable. Alarms were in place that should have been activated immediately. Sentries that should have been present had somehow been reassigned. Controls had been sabotaged. At the end of his report, the Colonel silently handed the Baron his letter of resignation. Klaus considered it for a moment, and then eyed the Colonel.
“Before I accept this,” he held up the letter, “you have twenty-four hours to explain to me what went wrong.” The Colonel blinked, saluted crisply, and strode off, determined to make someone else’s day very bad indeed.
Next to be called was a creature that closely resembled a gigantic green-furred gorilla. Thick metal bands, a complicated set of goggles that automatically adjusted themselves whenever it moved, and an enormously tall cap—complete with shako—were its only clothing. When the creature spoke, it revealed a mouthful of thick, sharp teeth. This was Sergeant Nak, one of the many constructs who, upon the death of the Spark who created him, had taken service with the Baron. Nak was in charge of the military forces aboard the great airship. This was partly because of the brilliant mind that lay nestled behind those goggles, and partly because he was one of the few creatures that even the most unruly of the Empire’s rag-tag military forces hesitated to fight.
As Nak approached the Baron, he extended a massive paw. Clutched within was a small bunch of flowers, tied with a festive blue bow. A cheerful tag exhorted the reader to “Get Well Soon!”
Klaus looked at this blankly and then forced himself to smile. Sergeant Nak was indeed a terrifying fighting machine, but he was also considerate to a fault. Klaus had noticed that for many people on Castle Wulfenbach, this only served to make Nak more worrying, and so he always made a point of encouraging the green-furred creature’s kind impulses.
Nak’s report was concise. The fighting had been intense, but in the end, the Baron’s forces had prevailed. He gently unfolded a sheet of paper, and emotionlessly read off a list of those killed in the attack. He then read from another list, this time of units which could reasonably spare soldiers to replace those that had been lost.
The Baron pondered this for a moment, and made a few suggestions. Sergeant Nak saluted and shambled off.
Mister Rovainen, one of Klaus’ army of laboratory assistants, had performed the examination of the dead Slaver Wasp Queen. He held his report in one of his perpetually bandage-wrapped hands, but never bothered to look at it.
“The device was constructed at least seventeen years ago, and was no doubt launched in one of the original attacks.” Mr. Rovainen’s voice was thick, and rasped with a buzz that made listeners want to clear their own throats.
This information piqued the Baron’s interest. “How were you able to determine that?” Mr. Rovainen seemed to hunch deeper within his voluminous coat. “Doctor Vg. Before disappearing... Vg proposed a comparison test. Using brine crystallization rates. Vg...” Klaus could see that Rovainen was upset over the disappearance of his colleague. This was understandable, since the two had worked together for years. He took a deep phlegm-choked breath before continuing.
“I believe it was the age of the engine that resulted in a glitch in the Queen’s development, causing it to delay the release of the direct slaver swarm.”
A burst of static made everyone jump. Doktor Øy’s owl-eyed clank lurched into the room. “Slavers come in two varieties. The familiar ‘Warrior’ class, and the far smaller ‘slaver’ class. These latter are the creatures that actually infect humans, using a combination of chemical and protean bonding, forcing their victims to become the shambling, mindless creatures colloquially known as Revenants. These revenants become the slaves of The Other. As yet there is no cure—” There was a sudden loud “pop” and the clank exploded into fragments.
Doktor Øy stepped into the room, wild-eyed and clutching a smoking gas gun. “I am so sorry about that, Herr Baron. It’s back to the drawing board, apparently.” He bowed and exited.
There was a stir at the doors, and the assembled staff made way for a newcomer who stood framed in the doorway. The Baron took a deep breath and nodded. His son Gilgamesh strode to his bedside. Klaus nearly smiled, but caught himself just in time. One of the few bright spots in the last twenty-four hours was the widespread recognition that it was Gil who had slain the Hive Engine’s Queen. Unfortunately, just to make things more complicated, people had seen him being aided by the Heterodyne girl.
Klaus sighed. Another day, another crisis.
Almost as tall as his sire, Gil moved stiffly through the crowd. The young man was under a great deal of strain, but was doing a masterful job of hiding it. It would take someone who knew him well to see it. Klaus approved. A commander should not let his underlings see that he was under pressure.
Gil had a lot to be worried about, certainly, but could see that his father was in no mood to ease his mind. He stepped up and ran a critical eye over the healing engine.