Genre: Steampunk / Gaslamp Fantasy
Stumbles Clumsily In: Girl Genius
Mara’s Involvement: light
Time: About five months after the events of The Pauper Princess and the Born Legacy
The story so far!
–The Princess found some new friends, who followed her home
Legal disclaimer stuff:
“This story is not approved by, sponsored by or affiliated with Studio Foglio LLC or Airship Entertainment.”
Pauper Princess FanFiction Theatre Presents:
The Pauper Princess and the Way of the Trilobite – Part 11
Hovering above what constituted the mutual borders of all three empires was Castle Wulfenbach, naturally dwarfing the ambassadorial airship of Emperor Tarvek. Each airship displayed the three flags of themselves and their respective allies. Not yet having made her presence known was Empress Agatha, which rarely failed to make her two former suitors nervous, even if she always kept them waiting, whether due to a death-defying escape against impossible odds, or as was typically the case these days, simple tardiness.
The two Emperors waited silently and impatiently in a conference room that had been repurposed as a lab. Gathered and sorted inside were the combined efforts of their search of Dupree’s ship, both technological and organic. Who was to say that the pirate queen didn’t have her share of constructs onboard? Or Dupree herself, if any of the recovered body parts turned out to be hers. Alas, not as far as they could tell.
Gilgamesh sat slumped in the largest, and therefore primary, seat, poking idly at a small piece of debris while drumming his fingers. Tarvek demonstrated better posture but spent his time glancing at his pocketwatch, winding it up, buffing smudged spots with his sleeve, and conducting other activities with it no doubt meant to hide his dizzying intellect.
Gilgamesh’s drumming became louder and more impatient. Its crescendo was interrupted by Tarvek’s hand slamming with cobra-speed onto Gilgamesh’s, ending the arhythmic composition. Gilgamesh stared at the hand on top of his and debated yanking it away, or perhaps resorting to something as juvenile as a thumb-wrestling match. Had the wait been that long, though, to reduce them to this? Finally he withdraw the hand with as much dignity as he could muster, straightened up, adjusted his coat, and cleared his throat.
“Care for a beverage?” he asked quietly.
“No,” said Tarvek.
“Water? Tea? Coffee?”
“No, thank you,” said Tarvek.
“Well, hydration is important,” said Gilgamesh, “So-” He stood and went to the door to the room, poked out his head, and gave his food and beverage request to the nearest minion. As soon as the order was placed, he returned to his seat and resumed fighting his boredom, not by drumming his fingers, but by cleaning his fingernails. With his teeth. Tarvek caught a glimpse of that, barely stifled a look of disgust, and turned subtly away from the sight.
Another servant knocked at the door, was given entrance, then stood at attention. “Herr Wulfenbach! Her Ladyship Most High has been sighted and is enroute!”
“Uhh, finally,” groaned Tarvek, which earned him a Look from his co-ruler. Gilgamesh stood up, dismissed the servant, then gave the room another look to make certain everything was just so. He nodded to himself and held his coat lapels regally. And then they both ran from the room.
Approaching Castle Wulfenback and the Sturmvoraus airship at great speed were twelve torchmen from Castle Heterodyne. The three in the front row each held a banner of a New Europa ruler, with the Heterodyne banner in the middle. In the center of the torchmen phalanx flew a figure in brilliant gold and white battle armor, the shining Heterodyne sigil taking up most of the front chest. While mostly adhering to the Princess’ specifications, there had been some changes, blatant and subtle. The upper torso had been pushed out to have more… chest room. Her Ladyship Most High had also added decorative metallic wings on either side of the helmet, and yet more “flair” all around the suit so there was no mistake who was rocketing her way to this gathering.
Agatha saw two cargo doors opening under Castle Wulfenbach, and was both relieved and disappointed. Not that she had hoped to be challenged as an enemy intruder by the entire fleet, but maybe just… something small sent her way, like a little missile or another flying clank. Something she could triumph over before landing inside. But… No, she put that silly thought from her mind. It’s not as if he could read her mind. Besides, any attempts to create mind-reading devices had, so far, resulted in fried brains.
She landed in the cargo bay, followed by the rest of the torchmen. They formed a protective circle around her as she stood arms akimbo. Then she and the torchmen waited. Hm. Well, this was disappointing. No minions to greet her. Not even one of those people with glowing sticks to guide flying devices safely to the ground. This was not like Gilgamesh to keep her waiting; that was her job.
Moments before she was about to give up, open up the armor, and change into more regal clothing, a large door at the end of the hangar whooshed open, and Gilgamesh and Tarvek emerged, clearly both in some unspoken race to reach her. The torchmen snapped to attention, and she stood arms akimbo again until the two Emperors reached her position. Then the battle armor HSSSSed dramatically open. She stepped down and adjusted her hair. Her green and ivory flightsuit was skintight and showed every curve. Gilgamesh tried to speak first, but was stopped short before even starting.
A slight widening of the eyes got away from Tarvek before he managed to narrow them and present a scowl of disapproval. “Must you always keep us waiting?” he said.
“Couldn’t be helped,” said Agatha. “And I wanted to fly at top speed – sound times five – to make up the time, but then the torchmen couldn’t have kept up. They don’t have those upgrades… yet.”
“‘Sound times five?’ ” asked Gilgamesh. “As in five times the speed of sound?”
Agatha stifled a smirk. “Give or take.” She held a hand out to the side without looking. A torchman handed her a dressing bag that included her glasses and other changes of clothing. She put on the spectacles right away and snuck in another hair adjustment.
Tarvek pointed a thumb at the armor. “Is this what took out Dupree’s ship?”
“Not the specific suit,” she said, “But of similar design. The original was lacking a certain style to it. But I’m working on her. On that. So! Shall we convene, gentlemen? I’ll need a private room for changing first.” She started to move past them, but they stayed put. “Boys?” she said, looking back.
“We want the steel,” said Gilgamesh.
She scoffed. “Get your own suits.”
“We don’t care about the suit.”
“I don’t know,” said Tarvek. “You wouldn’t perchance be in the mood to share how it can reach fives times the speed of sound, would you?”
“In due time, gentlemen,” she said. “That’s still being field-tested.”
“The steel, Agatha.”
“Don’t you start bossing me around again, Gil. You’ll get nothing with that kind of tone.”
“Fine,” he gritted. “Please, oh Ladyship Most High?”
She sighed dramatically, then pursed her lips. The two stared down at her while she made a show of regal defiance. Then a smirk crept along her face, and she reached into her dressing bag. “Very well,” she said, producing two sealed tubes that were the same length as the bag. “Behold: a gift to you both! I just happened to bring the formula.”
The men took their respective copies and muttered something that might have indicated gratitude. Realizing that that’s all she would get, Agatha resumed her stroll from the hangar. Gilgamesh and Tarvek were about to open their containers, then noticed her absence and rushed to catch up. Outside of the hangar and in the corridor, the two men walked side-by-side and moved ahead of her, who then trotted briefly to catch up.
“I thought you were used to my fashionably late entrances by now,” she said to neither in particular. “You’re not both in a mood, are you?”
“No more than usual,” said Tarvek.
“Oh, so you are in a mood,” she said.
“I, for one, didn’t mind the wait,” said Gilgamesh.
“It’s true,” said Tarvek. “He spent the time quite creatively, and composed an entire symphony solely for the phalangeal percussion section.”
“Hm,” said Agatha skeptically. “Do I want to hear it?”
“Get wound, Sturmvoraus,” said Gilgamesh in a tone suggesting that it had been used often enough to qualify as a catchphrase, and then had worn out its welcome.
****
Agatha emerged from the adjoining room dressed both for business and… more business. She knew better than to wear white for this occasion, and had donned a sturdy gown of brown and green. A beige tool bag hung off her right hip. Tinted goggles sat perched just at her hairline. She clapped her gloved hands together and rubbed them vigorously, then stood arms akimbo again.
“What’s first?” she said.
“The best, I think,” said Gilgamesh, and gestured to a very large device cobbled together with as much intact debris as possible, and then supplemented with the two Emperors’ attempts to fill in gaps and replace missing pieces. Agatha had already shipped over her own collection, and recognized the pieces she had unknowingly contributed.
“This should be a working recreation of that field generator,” said Gilgamesh. “Not just the concussive aspects, but the light-bending, too.” He picked up a smaller device with a few knobs and antennae sticking out. “I can switch it on with this. Now, we expect it to-”
“Hold it!” said Agatha. “What do you mean, this is-? You put this together without me? Why would you do that?”
The men traded puzzled looks. Tarvek spoke first. “Why is that wrong? We had everything collected and studied; it was time to assemble!”
“Yes,” said Agatha, “But we were supposed to be doing that to-ge-ther. Isn’t that why we’re here?”
“That’s not the only reason,” said Gilgamesh. “Also to figure out the who and the where of all this. But if we were supposed to wait, then our apologies. Projects like this are so few and far between these days, we… got carried away, I suppose.”
She looked to Tarvek, who offered only a contrite shrug. “Yes, I know how that feels,” she grumbled. “But at least let me look at it. Agreed? Don’t touch those knobs until I get back!”
She approached the machine, hand on hip, stroking her chin, another fluff of the hair, and studied the front and sides. There was an egress in the back that she wasted no time exploring. “Sweet lightning,” she said from inside.
“I know,” said Gilgamesh. “This tech is ingenious. But where it’s from is what we need to-”
“I meant,” she said, “You turn it on now and it’ll kill us all, your fleet, and maybe beyond!”
“Agatha,” said Tarvek, “This is no time to exaggerate.”
She poked her head around from the egress. Her cheeks already had smudges of grease. “Do I look like I’m exaggerating?”
“What is the problem?” said Gilgamesh.
“Oh, where to start,” she muttered. Tool after tool was whipped from her belt, sometimes for one in each hand at two separate tasks. Gilgamesh let her have her oneupmanship for the moment, then ran out of patience and all but slammed down his controller.
“Agatha!” he grumped. When she ignored him, he stepped behind the machine and grabbed the business end of one of her spanners. She had been humming to herself to focus, and cut her current note short.
“Gil, I am working.”
“I can see that,” he said, letting go of her tool. “But at what? Why am I not supposed to turn it on? We’ve been assembling it for days now. Studying it, reverse-engineering, crafting replacement parts. My controller will keep its radius and intensity at a minimum. It can be activated safely!”
“No, that’s the problem,” she said, and stepped away to rejoin her colleagues. “It’s still missing parts. I saw nothing in here that would respond to those controls. There’s nothing to keep it from expanding into infinity at full power!”
“Again with trying to show us up!” said Gilgamesh. “Must this happen every time we meet?”
“Just because I’m right doesn’t mean I’m showing you up!”
Tarvek held up a hand. “If I may-”
“We are not mental midgets, ‘Your Ladyship!’ ” said Gilgamesh. “Honestly, do you think I can’t put together a dimmer switch for a doomsday weapon? Me??”
“I am not saying that!”
“Then what are you saying??”
“I’m saying don’t switch it on!!”
Gilgamesh and Agatha stopped abrubtly and turned as one to Tarvek. He pushed the controller away from Gilgamesh’s immediate reach.
“I meant, not in here,” he clarified. “I happen to agree with her. Better to examine it just a little more, then find some remote, uninhabited area to set it off. But until we can do that, I propose that we use this occasion constructively, and continue examining everything we know about Bang, her ship, her crew. All of this debris, all of these parts, all of these… bodies.”
“You already have my story about it,” she grumbled. “And Mara’s. By the way, are any of these arms, legs, or organs… Bang’s?” The men shook their heads. “And I had such high hopes,” she sighed. “And thank you, Tarvek, for applying appropriate caution here.” She clapped her hands together again. “So what do we have here? Unknown metals or alloys? Familiar construction or assembly styles? Part of somebody’s sigil? Dirt from another continent?”
“None of the above,” said Tarvek. “So far.”
Agatha sighed in frustration and gave her hair a brief tug on both sides of her head. “We’re off to a great start.”
****
The trio toiled for two hours uninterrupted, aside from a lovely spread of hors d’oeuvres, mini sandwiches and Schnapps, and finally discovered… nothing! Not even a manufacturer’s seal or address. Even the remnants of books and dirty magazines were locally printed and in the common tongue. Leather was leather, steel was steel, and egos were egos. Someone – it didn’t matter who – accused the others of withholding evidence. Another hinted at corruption of evidence. A third implied that their new responsibilities had made them “fat, dull and complacent,” which did not go over well with the other two. They were most assuredly not “fat.”
It wasn’t long now before the room became a cacophony of slammed fists, thrown dishes, tossed salads, and of course, raised voices. And then a noise like a combination of a hundred people blowing across empty jars openings, and a swarm of a million bees, filled the room. Agatha covered her ears, Tarvek cringed as though hearing fingernails on chalk, and Gilgamesh flung open a door and began barking orders at the first poor schlub that happened to be in sight.
A brilliant beam of light then poured through a spot on the ceiling that had no visible means of producing any light or sound. The horrible buzzing sound faded away as the light began flickering and changing colors. It was streaming inside at an angle, and most of the light was spread along a far wall. Eventually the flickering and colors managed to coalesce until resembling the projected image of … a man. Thanks to the light’s angle, he was elongated and distorted like a shadow near sunset, but could otherwise be seen dressed in military-like attire – perhaps an officer’s uniform – but missing any familiar design or insignia. Even his hat was much like an ordinary, wide-brimmed cavalry hat with one side pinned up.
The buzzing was replaced by a brief bit of static, followed by the projected figure clearing his throat.
“Ah, excuse me,” he said. The voice was a congenial tenor. One might argue “friendly,” but the assembled Emperors knew better. “Good day to you. I hope that a Herr Wulfenbach is present at this time?”
Herr Wulfenbach wasted no time with pleasantries. “Who are you? What do you want with us? How did-?”
“-not, please fetch him for this message,” continued the projection. “This recording will be repeated once. Now, Her Majesty sends her best to you and is really looking forward to a face-to-face someday, but she’s afraid that will have to wait.”
“Albia?” said Tarvek.
Gilgamesh jabbed his finger at the image. “Listen! You tell your old Queen Harridan that she’s playing with a barrel of plague monkeys!! We will not-!!”
“Gil, this is a recording, remember?” said Agatha, pushing down his arm. “Listen for clues already!”
“-Learned a thing or two, well, that’s ace!”
Tarvek let out a brief hiss in frustration. “And we missed something.”
“SHH!”
“Don’t blame our former colleague for all the mayhem earlier,” the deceptively congenial projection said. “True, she does love her work more than we could have hoped for, but really, it was to give some of our equipment a bit of a test. We hoped to pick up a sample or two of some your little Sparkly brains, but it wasn’t to be, looks like. But try and try again, we say here.”
“And where is here!” snapped Gilgamesh, who once again flung open the door, but left the room this time to deliver detailed orders to his minions. Tarvek and Agatha remained inside to give the recording their full attention. There was something maddeningly familiar about his accent. He would be speaking the common tongue perfectly, but for the odd pronunciation, inflection, and even some of the wording. The softness of the R’s reminded Tarvek of an English accent, but it was just different enough to make him second-guess. This made Tarvek regret that he was not even more well-traveled than he already was.
Gilgamesh returned to the room presently and whispered to them that he had his people searching for the source of the recording. Tarvek only nodded vaguely, doing his best to work out their virtual visitor’s body language and facial expressions. The distorted image added to the puzzle without making it an impossibility. He did give them points for the challenge, though. It was rather unlikely that the bad angle was a mistake.
“-what Her Majesty regrets is that this really isn’t about you,” said the projection. “It’s about reestablishing our place in the world. Rejoining lost kin. And… well, I’m not really supposed to divulge this, but a spot of revenge, too. Now, not on you, good Herr Wulfenbach, or your esteemed co-rulers. Trouble is, you all happen to be taking up a lot of, shall we say, real estate that Her Majesty needs before… ahh, but there I’m yabbering again. The real message is this: you – you three rulers and your people, that is – need to flee this lovely plot of land you call New Europa, or be destroyed. Personally I’m content to stay at home. I still haven’t gotten used to your cold Christmases, but Her Majesty wants you out, so out you go. Now I’m sure you think the toys you’ve seen so far are the peak of our prowess, but they’re not. Really. They’re not. In fact, how about a tease for you? Call it a little peek at what’s to come if you resist. Do you have a window or porthole or something nearby? Look out your left side, then. Sorry, it’s—what? – port side. Right.” He grinned and shrugged sheepishly. “I’m not really a naval man.”
Gilgamesh and Agatha crept over to the portside windows and peeked out. Tarvek stayed where he was to watch their “visitor.” The outside view was as expected: various airships in the Wulfenbach fleet accompanying the flying Castle.
“There!” cried Agatha, pointing. Gilgamesh looked just in time to see another light beam shooting down from… somewhere… at nearly the same angle as the projection in the room. But this light beam hit one of the smaller ships in the fleet—and sliced it in two. A flash of light, and a cargo ship was cut in twain and spilling its contents and its crew as the two halves began deflating and plummeting to the ground.
“BATTLESTATIONS!” Gilgamesh was already out of the room by the time he finished the word. Klaxons started up one after another all over the ship. Shouting filled the corridors, all dwarfed by Herr Wulfenbach’s own as orders were conveyed left and right.
Tarvek stayed and kept watching.
“I think right about now,” said the projected man, “You should have seen a demonstration of some kind. Brutal, I know, but such are, regrettably, the ways of war. You’re probably running around now, trying to work out where it came from and all that. And if you can, I doff my hat to you, sir! Then we’d know we’ve got ourselves a worthy opponent! But if it’s any consolation, we’re done for today. Sorry about the mess, but you know, it will get messier if you don’t make the right decision. We’ll be in touch. Have a nice day while you can.”
Tarvek’s tone was deceptively calm. “Who are you? You’re not a recording.”
The figure smiled and waved in a rehearsed manner. Tarvek lunged at the image and slammed a fist on the table. “You’re not a recording! Answer me!”
“Tarvek!” Agatha called from behind him. “Why are you still here? You should be heading for your airship! I’m getting my suit from the hangar and-!”
“-And doing what?” he said. “Flying around to engage an unknown enemy?”
“It’s better than nothing!” she said. “Do you even know what just happened? Have you looked outside? It sliced one of Gil’s ships in half!”
“From above?”
“Yes, from above!” she said. “Like this projection. And why is it still on? Has the recording started over?”
“Oh,” said the figure. “I lied about that. I’m not a recording.”
“See??” said Tarvek. “I was right!”
Gilgamesh rushed into the room, his arms spread. “What are you doing in here?? We’re under attack, and you’re both standing around??”
The figure held up a finger. “No need for all the shouting, friend,” he said. “I’m just on my way out. Nice meeting you all, Emperors Gilgamesh and Tarvek. Ah, and we mustn’t forget the lovely Agatha. Hooroo!”
With that, the light snapped off as quickly as it had been turned on. Thankfully, there was no deafening buzzing noise to accompany the departure. Gilgamesh stood stunned, looking to the ceiling and back.
“I knew it wasn’t a recording!!” he bellowed. “And that means they’re right on top of us!”
“I’m not convinced,” said Tarvek.
“Oh, well, you go ahead and work out your nagging doubts,” said Gilgamesh. “I’ve got an enemy to engage!”
“I need a globe!” said Tarvek. “He was spoon-feeding us clues; let’s get them sorted out!”
“Oh, clues?” said Gilgamesh. “How about this one? It’s Albia!!”
“I’m not convinced!” said Tarvek. He looked to Agatha for support, who seemed to want to give it, but ultimately she just shrugged and followed Gilgamesh from the room, leaving Tarvek alone with his clues.
Agatha kept pace with Gilgamesh, who juggled with practiced ease their conversation and the steady stream of minions and other servants that provided updates or received orders.
“So, what is the origination point?” she asked. “If it’s a cloaked ship, I know some battle armor that can make short work of it.” She tried not to grin, but failed.
“So far all my people are able to tell me is that the angle and dissipation of the beam suggest that it originated well above the maximum altitude of any airship,” he said.
“Then, they have a ship that can get that high?” asked Agatha.
“I’ve been firing missiles, death rays and flying clanks at their approximate location since my ship went down,” said Gilgamesh. “They’re all disappearing into the distance.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” she said, and stopped. “Hang on.” She fished around in her pouch and pulled out a device that at first made Gilgamesh think of a cigarette case. She opened it and began fiddling with its own little controls.
Gilgamesh huffed in frustration. “Agatha, I don’t have time for this. You need to send out your torchmen! And Tarvek…! You know what; forget about him. He’s only useful when it suits his purpose, and damned if I know how this doesn’t suit him now!”
The cheerful voice of a woman was heard over Agatha’s device. Her smiling face also appeared on a small, round screen. “Hello there!” she said.
Agatha wasted no time. “Mara, when I was on Bang’s ship, how did you track me?”
Her cousin was momentarily flustered by the lack of pleasantries, but recovered quickly. “I thought I told you? I cobbled together a tracker that measured the signals between our talkboxes. Then it translated that data to provide your speed, longitude, latitude, and altitude. Your location, that is.”
“Right, you needed both of them on to work,” Agatha muttered. “All right, let me think. So… if the source is still on, or even just giving off vestigial signals, this could be modified to detect that and… What do you think, Mara? Same principle?”
“I… Hon, what’s going on?”
“Agatha,” said Gilgamesh, “I hope you don’t mind if I leave you with your… cousin, is it? to keep gossiping, but somebody’s got to protect New Europa!”
“‘Protect?'” said Mara. “My goodness! What-?”
“Gil!” said Agatha. “I am trying to find a way to get their real location! Not just shooting things wildly and hoping something hits! I think I can modify this talkbox to pinpoint the source of the attack!”
“Well, do it, then!”
“Don’t you bark orders at me!”
“I’ve got it!” shouted Tarvek from a far end of the corridor. He waved frantically at them until they looked his way, then calmed himself and merely hurried to meet them. “I am… 95 percent certain I know who the enemy is!”
“Good!” said Gilgamesh. “I’ll raise you 5 percent, so we can prepare for war with England!”
“That’s just what they want!” said Tarvek. “We’d be doing their job for them to attack England!”
“Our mystery man and Queen want England?” said Gilgamesh. “They can have it!”
“For the love of Hipparchus, why don’t you have a globe??” said Tarvek. “My empire for a globe!”
“Ooo, is that a promise?” said Gilgamesh, leaning closer.
“Tarvek, just tell us!” said Agatha. “I think we know our geography well enough.”
“Fine,” he grumbled. “Listen: he mentioned revenge. Reuniting with kin. Reestablishing their place in the world. And don’t forget that he’s used to a place where Christmas is not cold.”
“So?” said Gilgamesh. “She probably controls the weather for the whole island. It could be 22 degrees every day there, for all we know.”
“Exactly,” said Tarvek. “For all we know. Albia’s whole foreign policy for years – centuries—has been based on isolation.”
“Your point?” said Gilgamesh. “Look, that fellow tried to hide his speech, but I detected a bit of ‘Wooster’ in him. He’s got a similar accent.”
“And I believe that the people of Dinnunder do, too!”
Gilgamesh and Agatha traded looks. “Did you just say ‘dinnunderdoo?'” he asked. “What-?”
“No!” said Tarvek. “Dinnunder! A footnote to history, but-”
“Oh! Oh!” said Agatha, pointing at him excitedly. “I think I—That does sound familiar! Something about England, they, uh… they…”
Gilgamesh groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “They sent their criminals halfway around the world. Exiled them… what was it? Two? Three centuries ago? to the island of Dinnunder.”
“Not an island,” said Tarvek. “A continent. An entire continent of criminals, or rather, what Albia deemed to be criminals in her eyes. No doubt some of them Sparks. Maybe a high percentage of them. We don’t know . And I’ll bet that none of them are happy to be there.”
“And you think they’ve spent all this time plotting their revenge?” said Gilgamesh. “Building their own tech in total isolation, until now?”
“Doesn’t it fit the clues?” said Tarvek. “And it would make—Agatha, what is that?” He pointed at her still active talkbox, whose screen still displayed Mara’s face. Her smile had disappeared a long time ago and had been replaced by a look of great concern and not a little fear.
Mara still attempted a smile. “Er, good afternoon, your Majesty. You know, it’s said that living well is the best revenge! Don’t you agree?”
An awkward silence fell amongst the three.
“I contacted her,” said Agatha quickly. “She designed this talkbox, so I thought she could help locate their death ray.”
“Death ray??” said Mara. “Could somebody explain to me what’s happening? Please?”
“As soon as I can,” said Agatha. “In fact, I’ll contact you again, all right?”
“What, with that?” said Tarvek, taking it from her. “No! We need to be more careful than we ever have with our own tech! They could very well be tracking… Wait, how does this thing work, anyway?” He began turning it over and around until Agatha snatched it back and glared at him.
“Point taken,” she said. “Mara, just… please stand by.” She clicked off the talkbox.
Gilgamesh was conferring quietly with several minions before doling out orders and returning his attention to his colleagues. “If you’re right, Sturmvoraus,” he said, “Albia’s made a mess that we’re expected to clean up!”
“Should we try to contact her?” said Agatha. “Reach out for, dare I say it, an alliance? The enemy of my enemy is my friend?”
Tarvek scoffed. “That strategy rarely ends well. But I’m not against at least the attempt to make contact. You’ve still got your man Wooster there, right?”
“I’m already preparing a message for him,” said Gilgamesh. He sighed. “Well, friends. We were all getting dull and complacent in peacetime. Careful what we wish for?”
“I never wished for an end to peace,” said Tarvek. “It’s the lack of time to devote to my studies and experiments that’s been so vexing. That’s been so… dulling.”
“And very well,” said Agatha with a dramatic sigh. “I’ll admit it: I have been putting on weight lately.”
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