Ministry Protocol: Thrilling Tales of the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences
Page 60
*****
Agent Blackwell smiled warmly (as best she could, most of her smiles were laced with a sort of wild madness) as they walked through the ships corridors before slipping unseen into a service corridor to the Engine room.
“Someone checks in the Engine room every half hour,” whispered Doctor Blackwell, “more than enough time for me to check on the mechanics, repair anything that needs assistance, and be back well in time for appetisers.”
Wellington shifted on his feet, watching though the porthole from the Engine room to the corridor. “Do be quick,” he said.
“Agent Books, I am always efficient,” she said, and opened a panel, examining the innards of the engine. Wellington glanced over. He had to admit, the technology was fascinating. An engineer himself, he was delighted by the inner workings of such great machines. Agent Blackwell danced around the engine room, opening a panel here, touching a piece of machinery there. She picked up an oil can and squirted it into a funnel, but a splotch of oil fell from the lip of the can to her dress, right on the front.
“Doctor Blackwell,” scolded Wellington, shaking his head, “Do be careful.” He took out his handkerchief and carefully dotted the drop away. Unfortunately, oil is oil, and a handkerchief, no matter how good, can only do so much. “Ugh,” he groaned, “bit of a mark there. You’ll have to change again before dinner.”
“This is why I usually wear black, you know,” sighed Josepha. “Far easier to hide the stains.”
“Certainly oil stains,” he agreed.
“And blood,” she added, turning back to the engine. “We are done, Agent Books. Everything is in excellent shape and the ladies of the Empire are safe. We have plenty of time to—”
There was a huge bang, a rumble from above the decks and the engine room rocked, throwing Josepha to the grate on the floor, and knocking Wellington’s head against the doorway. His world blurred for a moment, but he could just make out Josepha pushing herself up on her hands. Both of them smelled smoke.
“The engine!” cried Books, and both of them dived towards the controls, quickly checking the integrity of the machine. Fortunately, the engine was functioning perfectly. They looked at each other.
“It wasn’t the engine,” Agent Blackwell said in amazement.
There were hard footsteps outside, clapping against the metal floors. Books reached into his pocket for the Nipper. Doctor Blackwell put a hand on his arm. “No, none of that. We’ll just tell the crew that I got lost. We can talk our way out of this.”
But it wasn’t the crew that opened the door, it was a group of pirates.