Captain Abelard made it a practice to never lie to the crew. On the other hand, he knew when to stop talking. He pulled down the General Address speaking tube.
“All hands—” he said crisply, “are to keep a weather eye out. Immediately report anything odd to two officers!”
A sigh of relief blew through the bridge. Strategically, nothing had changed, but they knew that their captain was taking things seriously. Kraddock saluted sharply and stood a bit taller. “Very good, Captain.”
Abelard returned the salute and, with a measured calm, sat in the command chair. He felt a little better, but not much. For the thousandth time, he wondered why they had made the damn balloon—
“Pink,” Gilgamesh marveled. He leaned full against the stone of the windowsill and stared. “It’s pink.”
Dr. Sun entered the room, a tray-laden nurse following several steps behind. “Have you seen—”
“I see it, Sifu.”
The old man came to his side and gazed up at the hovering dirigible. “It is very—pink.”
“Yes, I see that too.” Gil swung away from the window. “I want the city sealed. I want a full squad of clanks sent up to the castle, and I want a full report on what’s happening.”
Sun nodded agreeably. “You will not go yourself?”
Gil shook his head. “No. I need to stay here with my father.” He glanced toward the hospital bed where Baron Wulfenbach lay. “NURSE—!” He pointed his walking stick at the woman who had entered with Dr. Sun. She paused beside the Baron, a full hypodermic in her hand.
“What is that?” Gil’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing was ordered for this patient.”
The nurse gave him a matronly smile. “Don’t worry, young man, this is just a vitamin that we give all—”
“Do not move. Sun?”
The old man’s voice conveyed his fury. “She is not one of my people.”
“Too late!” The woman screamed in triumph as she brought the syringe down towards Klaus. “Die, tyrant!”
Before Doctor Sun could move, a bolt of electricity spat forth from the tip of Gil’s stick, catching the woman full in the chest. She was knocked back hard, bursting into explosive flames before she hit the far wall.
Gil strode to his father’s side, brushing off bits of flaming debris. “My father appears to be unharmed,” he told Sun. “That was lucky.” He began a deep breath of relief but was surprised to find himself jerked about and staring into the face of Dr. Sun. The old man was furious.
“What the devil did you just let off in my hospital?” Sun roared at him, giving him a solid shake.
Gil held up his cane. It was a light, ornate swagger stick such as any fashionable young man might carry, but the blue glass bauble at the top was lit with a fading glow-heat pouring off it.
“Just a little something I’ve been working on, Sifu. A lot of it is Agatha’s, but she was working from my designs. I’ve managed to solve most of the remaining problems. I was a bit worried about effect spread, but…”
His vision blurred as he was given another shake. He realized that Sun was staring at him with a stone-cracking gaze. He wound down.
“Pretty neat, don’t you think?” he finished weakly.
Sun pinned him with his gaze for another second and then spun to the charred corpse on the floor. “An assassination attempt! In my hospital! Who would dare?”
Gil checked some of the dials on the medical machinery. “Now that they know my father is helpless? Many would dare.” He shoved the dead woman aside with his foot. “She’ll be but the first.” He glanced at the now-coated walls. “I think we’ll need a mop.”
Sun rang for an orderly. “She certainly wasn’t a professional,” he sniffed.
Gil snorted. “No, she wasn’t. She was too slow.” Sun bit his lip as he considered this. Gil continued, “The professionals will wait. They’ll let a few overly enthusiastic amateurs go first to see what happens.” He kicked one of the larger charred lumps under the bed. “We should leave my father here. Let the assassins enter and then…disappear. Keep it a mystery. Keep them guessing.”
“What? Keep your father here? In the same room as a corpse?” The doctor was appalled. “…Although… she is cauterized…” Sun frowned and slowly combed his hand through his beard. A knock at the door made them jump, but it was only an orderly. Sun met the man at the door, purposely blocking his view. He requested a broom, a dozen blankets, and several cartloads of ice. “At the very least we can sweep her up and put her in the closet,” he said cheerfully as he shut and locked the door again. “There is still a fair amount of her I can use.”11
He stood over the remains of the dead woman and looked at Gil with a raised eyebrow. With a sigh, the acting ruler of the Wulfenbach Empire rolled up his sleeves and began to clean up his own mess.
Sun shook his head. “I wonder why—”
“Why?” Gilgamesh interrupted as he shoved the closet door closed, “Because Wulfenbach troops turned the people in her village into owls—”
Sun blinked. “You what?”
Gil waved a hand. “—Or we might have deposed her favorite mad prince or hung her lover for piracy or banished the Heterodyne Boys or poisoned the well or raised the price of herring…” Gil wound down and took a deep breath. “The reason isn’t important, Sifu. Neither is the truth. What is important is this: she was just the first.”
The old man nodded. “Then you had better clear your mind and be prepared.” He headed out the door. “As should we all. We must transfer as many patients as we can—”
Doctor Sun was about to close the door behind him when Gil stepped forward and put a hand on his arm. “Sifu—when you come back? Don’t forget to knock.”
Sun nodded, and the door shut between them. Gil took a quick turn around the room, examining the vents and tapping at certain points upon the floor and ceiling. Satisfied, he again checked his father’s machinery and finally allowed himself to once more stare out the window at the airship that floated above the town.
“That can’t be Agatha,” he muttered. “Unless they tried to fake us out by switching ships…” He dismissed this with a wave. “No, they’d want to hide, and I told Wooster to get her to England…” He gnawed on his lower lip.
“Wooster is good. If he’s somehow failed and she’s here…if that’s her up there…then something terrible must have happened to him.” Gil thought about this for a moment and his face darkened. “And if it hasn’t—it will.”
Agatha, Wooster, Zeetha, and Krosp followed the old man down the causeway. Wooster was furious with himself. “This old fellow is the one who gave us directions outside the city gates.”
Agatha nodded. “He was also sitting next to me at the café.”
Zeetha bit her lip. “Why didn’t we notice—”
The old man’s amused voice floated back towards them. “Because I did not want to be noticed.” He smiled. “It’s a knack.”
He led Agatha and her friends away from the Castle and through the streets of Mechanicsburg. They followed him warily—he refused to say anything more until they were “somewhere more private,” which they all agreed was wise, but unsatisfying.
Everywhere people were clustered on the streets and in doorways, talking with a great amount of gesticulating and hand waving. Voices were raised in argument and wonder. As far as Agatha could determine, the out-of-towners seemed inclined to believe the newcomer was the real thing, a genuine Heterodyne, returned at last! The natives were perfectly willing to concede that this might be true, in which case, any item purchased on this momentous occasion would obviously become a treasured memento. Thus, all of the merchants seemed to be doing a roaring business, with trays of souvenirs—or indeed anything that bore a “Made in Mechanicsburg” label—evaporating as fast as the delighted merchants could haul them out from their back rooms.