I looked over to Space hopelessly. He was pushed back to the top of the stairs, but he was striking out like an angry wall against all those who sought to get past him, making a bottleneck at the entrance to the garden. He was being pushed back fractionally every second, however.
I swung out my arm drunkenly, and a sizzling wound etched itself into my forearm. I dropped the baton.
“Do you yield, assassin? Do you bow to Eduardo?” came the taunt as I fell to my knees, exhausted.
“Space!” I called out.
The impact of a booming cannon shook the structure afresh, releasing a slew of masonry that fell musically to the ground below us as we lurched from side to side on the unstable roof. I only wondered which death would take me first.
Eduardo looked over to Space laconically, as sure on his feet as a cat or a goat or one of the rare cat goats of the mountain regions of Epsilon 12. I followed Eduardo’s look and saw a mace strike the captain bloodily in the head.
Eduardo bowed his head down to me and smirked as he hovered his blade around my head. “You two come to our planet and think you can do as you please. Your arrogance offends Eduardo”, he whispered in a mock conspiratorial tone. “It will be my pleasure to kill you, little man, and it will be doubly my pleasure to carve up that boor of a captain. I will take that slow. I will carve him apart like a roast. When I am done, there will be nothing left of the two of you, and Queen Hydrangea’s reign will be supreme!”
I looked over to Space, hoping for a miracle. Eduardo mocked my hope.
“You still think he can save you? Oh, it must be wonderful to have that kind of faith!” He straightened up and moved the tip of the blade above my eye, ready for the terminal blow. “Call for him again! Maybe it will help!” He extended a hand to Space, who was clutching his wound.
“Space!” I yelled, as the blade opened the skin on my forehead.
Eduardo plastered a look of mock shock on his smug face and drew back his blade, shouting, “Too bad! You die on your knees, then, crying out for the aid of the wonderful Captain SPAACE HAARDCOO-mhumph?!”
His mouth was suddenly plugged mid-shout. I looked up at him and saw a balled-up hunk of dough fly into his yelling face hole. His eyes boggled out of his skull in shock as both he and I whipped our heads round and traced the trajectory of the bread missile to the outstretched hand of Space.
“You called?” he asked with a smile.
Sacrificing sure footing for a zinger once again, the guards immediately fell upon him, as he was now without any baguettes. He was engulfed instantly under the dozens of pushing bodies.
I whipped around to Eduardo; he was in shock, but his hands were reaching up to his mouth. Quick as a flash, I summoned strength I didn’t know I had to rise from my knees and deliver a solid uppercut to his face. The blow clattered his jaw shut and my next blow to his nose thumped his head back, sending the bread pellet down his throat.
I knew what was coming next.
He belched in my face as I grabbed his hair. This was no crouton, I realized as his belly inflated and a button popped off his shirt and caught me in the eye. His abdomen was inflating like a balloon and his eyes did not need the aid of surprise to bulge in his head. I grabbed his lapels and grappled with him toward Space. He was under a scrum of guards, receiving a bludgeoning. I had Eduardo by the scruff of the neck now, but his hands were inflated like meat balloons as they grasped at me and he was trying to propel himself backwards with a stream of burping. I wrapped my other hand in his belt and took off, holding him like a gassy battering ram and making towards the Aplubians laying into Space.
“Coming through!” I yelled and released my grip on the swordsman a few yards before them. His momentum carried him into the mass of the guardsmen, who took receivership of the inflating Eduardo with surprise. As they wrestled with the problem of the rapidly expanding sphere of man that they clutched between them, I reached out a hand to Space and dragged him out from under the legs of the Aplubian guard. We had made it a few paces before we heard a sound like the whistling of an old kettle, followed seconds later by a flat bang, and then the noise of a brief fatty rain of matter hitting brick.
Space and I fell to the ground, spent.
“Bon appétit”, I quipped, getting to my knees and addressing the gore at the head of the stairs.
“Quite”, agreed Funkworthy as I dragged him to his feet.
“Too much bread can be quite filling”, I observed.
“So it seems”, he agreed.
“It seems he ate fit to burst!”
“... All right.”
“But saving you was the yeast I could do.”
“....”
“But with all things considered, I dispatched the man with extreme breadjudice.”
“Space”, he cut me off, “do you have many more of these? Because we are rather pressed for time here.I’ve had enough of bread puns for one day.”
I nodded in agreement, though I did have a beaut lined up about sandwich fillings; but it’s always good to have something up your sleeve for later.
I hobbled over to the head of the stairs. Apart from the gristle, it was clear of activity. The blow, large as it was, had apparently expelled enough explosive force to topple the scrum of guards that had been pressing down on me. A huge flop of them were lying on the street at the bottom of the tower, in amongst the detritus of destruction that had rained down on the streets as the Queen’s bedroom had tried to bring down the tower with its cannons.
“The ship?” I called over to Funkworthy, knowing the answer by the fact that the tower still stood. He was staring off into the valley. He shook his head slowly and I hobbled over to him, joining him in the view.
It was a grand sight in the moonlight. The huge trench that ran between the northern and southern provinces of the palace city was shrouded in bluish mist. The zeppelin was cutting through the thick cotton air in a grand swathe, parting the water vapour splendidly. It was making its way to the lights on the other side of the gulf. I could make out the spindly tower structures of the southern part of the city; they were a blacker black than the night sky, bejewelled with the warm night lights of a hundred bedrooms and ballrooms. Above the twinkling city lights were the faint discolorations in the night air. The prelude to the Hailstrom shower. It was an hour away, at the very most. I hung my head. It had been close, too. The ship was so vivid in the sky before us. A minute earlier, the jump would have been possible.
“Any more of those chef hats, Funkworthy?” I asked quietly, in vain hope. The winds could have carried us, maybe.
“No”, he sighed.
The wind chilled the sweat on my skin and I let out a sigh that hung before me in the air. The tower groaned under us, shedding loose bricks. It sat precariously on the edge of the cliff like a lighthouse. If it had really been a lighthouse, we might have been able to signal the other side to give a warning, but it wasn’t. I heard a fresh clatter: this time of feet on stone as the guards started the climb back up towards us.
I punched Funkworthy lightly on the shoulder. He looked round at me, resigned.
“You solved the case, Ebenezer.”
He smiled thinly. “I suppose I did. For all the good it did.”
“It is important”, I said quietly, turning away from the noise on the stairs. “It’s right. You found the truth. That means something still. There’s a quote... something about evil flourishing and good men....”
“Evil flourishes when good men do nothing.”
“Yes. I made that up. Years ago, in school. I was a profound child. But anyway, it’s true, you know. But you did all you could. We both did.”
A silence lay between us as I felt Funkworthy withdraw into himself.
“Is there something on your mind? Now might be the time to unburden yourself”, I noted as boots clattered upward to our position.
“That swordsman... he said you dangled his brother over a precipice....” Funkworthy said reluctantly
, staring out at the Princess’ vapour trail.
“I did.”
“And when the Princess said that you were trying to sleep with her, you just shrugged at me and winked lasciviously.”
“Well....” I didn’t remember winking.
But Funkworthy carried on, “And one of those guards, when we were fighting, shouted something like, ‘this’ll teach you for trying to make m’lady drink a cup of soapy pee’.”
“Yes, I think I caught that slur.”
“Space... what exactly were you doing while I was infiltrating the resistance?”
“Well, I... um....” I trailed off, too tired and beaten to recount my story-and maybe, just maybe, a little unflattered at the possible effect of giving a précis of my actions. Funkworthy looked at me with questions and hurt in his eyes. We were both in bad shape, but he had started out that way. I felt colour rise to my cheeks as I looked away from him and at the progress of the zeppelin. The footfalls rang out loud behind us now.
“Do you hear that?” asked Funkworthy after a pregnant and poignant pause.
“Yes. The jackboot heels of the thick-browed brute come to beat us to Valhalla”, I responded, very eloquently under the circumstances.
“No, listen!”
“To the sound of marching doom? To the ignorant bludgeoning of a backward police force?! Oh, I hear them, don’t worry. Never thought it would end this way, old chap.” But Funkworthy was on his feet, peering over the tower’s edge once more. He turned to me in a fervour.
“No. Not that either. Get up, Space!”
I clambered to my feet as I saw the first of the sloped foreheads lumber around the corner and pick through the scattered gore of their man Eduardo at the top of the tower. Funkworthy sprung up onto the wall at the edge of the tower that looked out into the deep valley. Facing me, he spread his arms out to his sides.
“Trust me, Space”, he said with a serene smile-
-and let himself fall off the side.
Guards snapping at my heels once more, I made a decision. I hurled myself to where he had been and then vaulted over the side in a dive that was slightly more dramatic than Funkworthy’s elegiac fall. I let the cold air carry me and the treacherous mistress Gravity take me in her arms as I plunged from the high tower after my second in command, Ebenezer Funkworthy. And if it was a suicide pact, as it appeared, then I supposed I’d just have to join him.
* * *
Chapter Nineteen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Perilous Pursuits
In which Space is on the ropes, Ebenezer hatches a plan and the Albino King starts his march on the innocent citizens.
I hit the deck with a thud.
I was gratified to see Space falling behind me like a stone from the ramparts of the decimated tower above us. He bounced off one of the sails, pranged his head on a low hanging beam and was up on his feet in a heartbeat, grinning at the fact that he was not splattered on the ground below, as was very much expected. I looked back up at the tower and glimpsed a ring of guards shaking their fists at us in exasperation as we pulled up above them. Though I thought the act rather gilded the lily of our escape, Space proceeded to pull down his trousers in the moonlit night and add another moon to the view just for them.
Warm hands slapped my back and I turned round to see the three happy eyes of Jacques and Felipe.
“T-Bone!” they cried in unison, beaming and hugging me like a departed brother.
“What are you damned reprobates doing here?” I asked incredulously. It had felt like nothing shy of divine intervention when I had been on the edge of the tower garden and heard the distinctive whine of motors and the roar of the fires of the rebel airship that I had last seen sitting idle in a subterranean catacomb. It was like an oasis, a hallucination. I had half expected to pass through the thing like a mirage. To see the form of the glorious airship climb up through the fogbank like a ghost made corporeal had been one of the nicest surprises in a very long time.
Jacques laughed and clapped my bruised shoulder once more. “Oh, you knew ve vere just in zee area...” he joshed.
Felipe cut him off and sent Jacques back to the idling control chair where, waving over to me like a giddy child at play, he fiddled with some levers and the engines took up a steady whine. We picked up speed, leaving the tower a receding mar on the horizon and cut into the foggy air of the chasm.
Felipe took me aside. “You left us at the worst possible time, T-Bone. When Jacques told me you split to seek the Baker, I was astounded. But maybe it was our fault. We cling to our secrets, you see, even from those who are clearly allies. It’s tonight! We were freeing those prisoners for the last synchronised push against our oppressors! In a half hour, we are to rise up as one and leave the catacombs behind. This is why we took the airship out in front of all that-to witness the downfall and manoeuvre our troops from above. But when we gained the skies, we heard of your deeds, T-Bone. We have our sources, and when we heard of a couple of rabble-rousers taking on the entirety of the Royal Guard in a boxing match, we knew there could be only one fearless soul behind such an act. You poked the razor-bear here today, T-Bone. The wire is jumping with cries for reinforcements. When we saw the tower blowing up, the cruel Eduardo detonating and a couple dozen guards clattering down to the ground like pins in a game of Dego, it was not hard to guess where you were. Ah!” he said, spying Hardcore, “you must be Funkworthy’s trusty companion we have heard so much about. Welcome, welcome!”
Space shot me a look at the term ‘trusty companion’ and his mouth worked like a mute puppet. I looked away quickly, stifling a smirk.
Felipe spread his arms around to encompass the deck of the ship. It was a magnificent, gleaming, ramshackle mess. Jacques sat in the central control seat, tugging at a plethora of brass levers and switches that surrounded his chair. Rebels milled all about him, straightening sails, firing engines and fiddling with cannons. Above us a patchwork balloon, stitched together from trousers and bedsheets (it seemed) kept us afloat in defiance of all laws of aviation. The deck was a hive of activity and the barely subdued sense of impending action was almost palpable. The wind whipped around us as we gained speed and the engines roared. It was a grand sound, and combined with the hearty grins of my comrades, it filled my heart with hope. It took me a while to realize I had been grinning since I had hit the deck.
“She’s a fine ship, Felipe. I’m glad I could see her in action.”
“You’ll see more than that before the night’s out! That ship ahead of us holds the Benefactor! We’re on our way to our liberation! The coup is at hand, brother T-Bone! Rejoice!”
I looked at Space urgently, but he was still mouthing the words ‘trusty companion’ to himself with a pained expression on his face like it was a hard math problem. I turned back to Felipe grimly. “I have black news about the Benefactor, Felipe.” I announced it loud enough that my words drew the attention of Jacques and the rest of the crew, so I adjusted my voice and spoke out. “You have been played! The Benefactor is, in fact, none other than the reigning Queen of Aplubia!”
A murmur ran through the crowd, then a gasp and then some more murmuring.
“I spoke with the Master Baker and had it confirmed-it was she who employed that dastardly assassin, she who has been funding your coup and she who murdered her own mother for power! You are in the employ of the hated monarchy.”
Felipe gave voice to the incredulity on board. “But why? Why fund a revolution against yourself?”
“You were patsies, backups”, I explained. “Your rebellion has been used to draw the investigative eye away from the royal line, and should she fail-a prospect that looks ever less likely-your people would be there to bear the brunt of the blame. Just think, the Baker’s employ, the murder itself; all eyes turn toward the trampled underclass, leaving the new queen to make her move and secure total power for herself.”
Felipe was pacing in front of me, shaking his head at this new information. I felt bad for muddying the ni
ght that was to be the culmination of years of struggle. It was natural he would fight against it. “The Benefactor promised that after the Revolution, we would be freed! That promise may well be honoured. All is not lost!” he said desperately.
Space stepped in and announced, “My trusty companion is right! Hydrangea wishes to take the Aplubian people to the stars. She has plans for fighters and destroyers and various fleets; I saw the designs. Do you think she would give up her free work force? Open your eyes! You’re swapping servitude under a monarchy for servitude under a single dementedly sexy tyrant! Why else would she hide, if not to keep this very realization from you?!”
A silence fell on the deck as all around us the rebels fell to chin-stroking reverie, trying to process this new information and looking to their leaders for guidance.
“I say we let the monarchy burst”, said Jacques finally.
“What?!” I demanded.
“The new queen has shown us more kindness than any before, after all-”
“To serve her dark purpose!” Space broke in.
“-So I say we take our chances with her!”
A small cheer went up around the deck. I wheeled around to them. I could see the Queen's zeppelin swimming in the air before the bow of the ship. We were gaining on it, to be sure. I would have to be quick.
“Brothers, sisters, I speak to you as someone who has felt the sting of the lash on his back. I know the desperation and the pain and the indignity. I know the inconvenient hours you are forced to keep, the absence of holidays, the disgusting absence of pay, the lack of health benefits; but we cannot let that fever for abolition blind us, can we?! We have before us a choice: on the one hand we trust a matricidal monarch with flour on her hands and designs on a marauding space fleet who will build an empire on the blood of hundreds through a veil of secrecy....”
The Court of Crusty Killings: A Captain Space Hardcore Adventure Page 20
