Wooster’s jaw dropped at the news. “Alive!”
Gil nodded in delight. “Yes! She found people to help her and she tricked me!” He paused as another thought struck him. “And Captain DuPree no less! Hee hee, she’ll be furious!”
Wooster nodded. “But—that’s wonderful, sir.”
“Yes, but there’s a problem.”
“Your father,” Wooster surmised.
Gil nodded. As he spoke he pulled down a large leather travel satchel and began placing useful things inside. “That’s right. He knows, and he’s going to go get her himself.”
Wooster frowned. “That... could be bad.”
Again Gil nodded and pulled open a cabinet containing maps. He sorted through them quickly and tossed a series of them into the bag. “Bad indeed. So I’m sending you to her.”
“Me?” Wooster didn’t even try to hide his surprise.
Gil pulled down a magnetic compass he’d been experimenting with. He hesitated, and then gently switched it on. Instantly his entire body was forcefully spun about until it was facing towards Magnetic North. Regretfully, he switched it off and placed it back on the shelf. “Yes, I want you to get to her first. Warn her. Hide her.”
Wooster looked lost. “Where? In my room?”
Gil sighed and closed the bag with a snap of fasteners. “Don’t be ridiculous. After you reported that she had escaped, you were ordered, if the opportunity presented itself, to do everything within your power to get Agatha to England.”
Wooster felt the floor drop out from under him. “I—Wh—What?”
Gil continued blithely. “This will enable you to do so.”
Wooster stared at him.
Gil rolled his eyes. “Please. You don’t work for me, you work for British Intelligence. You did when we met back in Paris. It’s why I recommended you for duty aboard Castle Wulfenbach, it’s why I made you my valet, so I could keep an eye on you. My father certainly didn’t object. To be honest, for a while I thought you might be one of his little tests.” Gil shrugged. “It’s been an enjoyable game, and I’m sorry I have to end it, but this is quite important.”
Wooster blindly reached back and found a chair. He slowly sank into it, shaking his head. “Oh dear,” he muttered. “You’ve known all along. They’ll be so angry...” He looked at Gil and a touch of his old smirk crossed his lips. “I suppose I’ll be in slightly less disgrace when I bring them Agatha Heterodyne.”
Gil did not smile back. “Yesss—” he said thoughtfully. “About that.” He leaned into Wooster and tapped his friend’s chest. “I do not intend to have Agatha escape from one potential prison by entering another.” His voice began to shift, and Ardsley grew alarmed.
“She will not be used as some political pawn against my father. She will not be enslaved for the ‘good of the empire.’” He leaned back, grinned, and playfully slapped Wooster’s face. “You knew me back at school, and perhaps you don’t take me very seriously. That would be a mistake. You must understand this.”
The grin turned into a snarl and Wooster found himself being hoisted into the air by his shirt. “When I come to her, she will be safe, unharmed, and free. Because I definitely will come, and if she is not—” Wooster felt his teeth rattle as Gil shook him once—“I will destroy ‘Her Undying Majesty.’ I will melt what is left of your miserable island into slag, and then boil the seas around you for the next thousand years!” This last was delivered at a roar. “Do you understand?”
Wooster desperately tried to see some trace of the man he thought he’d come to know over the last three years. What he could see was not reassuring. “You... you couldn’t!”
“Couldn’t?!” screamed Gilgamesh. “Couldn’t? I am Gilgamesh Wulfenbach, little man, and there is nothing I couldn’t do, had I cause!”
Again Gil grinned. This was even worse than him yelling. “And now... Now I have one!” Again he pulled Wooster up close. “Do. You. Understand?”
“Yes!” Screamed a terrified Wooster. “Oh God, yes! Yes, Master!”
Gil released him and he fell over backwards, but was instantly scrabbling back up.
“Much better,” Gil purred. He flung the travel bag at Wooster who clumsily caught it. “She is in, or near, Balan’s Gap. Probably in Sturmhalten Castle. Take my flyer.”
After Agatha had left, Gil had rebuilt the bizarre little heavier-than-air craft. Wooster had, out of curiosity, watched him closely enough to be able to fly it, but the basic concept had been so outlandish that he hadn’t even bothered to pass the plans back to England.
“Watch out for the new Prince, Tarvek Sturmvarous. Around him, trust nothing you think you see.” Gil clamped an iron hand on Ardsley’s shoulder, checking his flight. “Do not fail me, Wooster. For if you do...”
“I won’t, sir,” the shaken man gasped. Gil smiled and released him. Wooster bolted down the corridor and out of sight.
As soon as he disappeared, Gil sagged against the doorframe. A deep sigh escaped him. “Goodbye, Ardsley,” he whispered. “I’ll really miss you.”
He turned back to the room, and addressed the watchers who had observed everything. “Well,” he said reassuringly, “I’ve done all I can. It should be enough. My sources say that he’s one of Britain’s finest agents.”
“Thhh...” Gil’s eyebrows arced in surprise. He stepped closer. From the medical slabs where they lay, cocooned within an intricate webwork of medical equipment, a rebuilt Adam and Lilith Clay looked at him with eyes that, although drugged, showed that they were aware of their surroundings.
Adam tried again. His new vocal cords rattling from deep within his patched throat. “—Thhank hhyuu.”
Gil settled down and patted Adam’s arm. “Thank me when she’s safe.”
CHAPTER 10
SCENE; THE SEWERS BENEATH PARIS.
KLAUS; I can’t stand this anymore! It’s dark! It stinks! It’s wet, and there are monsters!
BILL; Buck up, old man! At least fighting the monsters keeps us warm!
KLAUS; You cannot imagine how much I hate you.
The Empire was going to war.
In one of the larger docking bays of Castle Wulfenbach, a fleet of the Baron’s heavy cruisers prepared for embarkation. The vast man-made cavern was filled with sound.
On a platform high overhead, surrounded by amplification horns, one of the Castle’s marching bands kept people’s feet moving quickly, drums and glockenspiels set the pace, as the brass filled the air with jaunty and patriotic marches.
Teams of longshoremen hoisted containers of food, fuel and ammunition. Riggermen swarmed over the exterior of the ships, freely slathering sealant upon the envelopes, checking cables, and testing exterior lights. Gasmen were checking gauges and, with a series of distinctive pops, disconnecting the gigantic rubberized canvas hoses that looped upwards towards the unseen tanks and pumps that supplied them.
A squad of overalled mechanics finished bolting down the cowling of one of the great engines and grinning, all three of them used their wrenches to beat out the traditional “Good to go” rhythm on the nearest support strut. A flagman on a nearby platform acknowledged their signal, waved them off, and then with a snap of his flags, relayed the availability of the engine to the ship’s Chief Engineer. Within thirty seconds, the engine coughed, and with an escalating whine, the six-meter-tall propeller began to slowly turn as the motor went through its warm-up sequence. The large steel cables holding the great airship in place gave a groan, and a midshipman nervously checked the gauges on his quick-release buckle.