A World of InTemperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 2) (20 page)

“Augh-aw-
woooooooh!
”

“That scream turned into a howl.”

“Did you hear that? I just heard an answering howl.”

“Yes, quite so. I detect multiple wolf howls in return to this creature’s beckoning. There is every indication pointing to a vicious pack of wolves hurrying to this location, from over this mountain, presumably to lend assistance to this elven enemy in the form of rending us all limb from limb, eh hem?”

“Wah, wah,
wuh
-
hooo
-awh-oooh!”

“My word, Abigail, I had no i
dea
you possessed such a banshee’s howl.”

“Quiet, Plumtartt! There, I hear my reply.”

“Yes, I hear it too. It comes from the opposite direction.”

“Persephone, watch out, the wolfpack is here. Ease yourself back. Stand by; they are attacking,
now!
”

“Down boy, heel! Oh! Oh, I say, good show! Our relief is here! Our reinforcements greatly outnumber our besiegers! Good boys! Good doggies! Sic’ ‘em, lads, as it were, yes, rather, hear, hear! Isn’t this nice...
ow!
”

Shame on me for not paying attention! My lack of vigilance has allowed the brute, Daemon Tauze, to strike me from behind, the oafish cad.

I am knocked clear of the struggle I had shared with Miss GoldenBear. She continues her battle with Daemon Tauze.

Lupine, canine, human, vampire, elf, and troll conflicts rage all around me.

Which of my comrades do I assist?

Bold decision is one of my strong points.

I take a firm grip upon one of Therion’s ears. True to my conjecture, these pointed appendages are very sensitive. The screaming creature releases Mademoiselle Gauzot. I use this opportunity to launch him headfirst into the expansive belly of Daemon Tauze. When the two boys look up, they are met by the boot of myself to the chin of the angry Elf, and a GoldenBear fist on the button of Daemon Tauze’s jaw.

The edge of the stage comes quickly, forcefully exiting troll and elf from the scene, to join the absent brother.

The wolves, now lacking in spiritual advisement, take a powder, exiting to the left.

Our brave and noble huskies are all accounted for.

Gauzot is not well. She hides her face. She walks away a few steps. It is apparent that she is trying to regain her exceptional self-control and composure.

After a minute, she returns, still keeping her face turned from us, and trying to get her breathing under control, she manages:

“That was a high toll to cross this bridge, I think. I am curious as to what lies on the other side.”

With that, she strides out onto the arctic arch.

P.O.V. Ichabod

A slimy tongue is licking my face.

Protestations reward me with a mouth full of licks.  A familiar, clockwork voice calls to me.

“Ichabod! Mr. Temperance! Are you still with us, Icky?”

“Yessir, I reckon I am. Gee, I sure am glad to see you fellers.”

“Likewise.”

“You got any idea of what happened?”

“With oxygen reserves depleted, you, along with Bolt, lost consciousness. Without your aid in my maintenance, I soon seized up. As a last act, I created a slow leak in the balloon, calculating that we could safely make it back to terra firma, as opposed to coming down in Hudson Bay. I regained a measure of mobility as we descended to warmer, dryer altitudes. We crashed onto this field. I cut the balloon loose as it threatened to drag us away. Bolt recovered a moment ago. With your recovery, our party appears to remain intact.”

“Do you have your bearings?”

“Affirmative, Sir!”

“A plot charted?”

“Aye, aye, Sir!”

“Let’s shove off.”

“Good show, I see a signpost ahead. It reads:”

Kuagiqsualujjuaq. One Mile.

“When we came down, Mr. Cogito, was it on planet Earth?”

“Yet to be determined, sir.”

“What do you say, Bolt, do we stop in and say hello?”

“Roof!”

“Kuagiqsualujjuaq must be the village we approach.”

“This must be the Eastern shore of Hudson Bay.”

“These are Native North Americans.”

“Ah, Inuit.”

“Then why didn’t you say so?”

“Gosh, this location is remote and disconnected. How are we going to move on from here? The Atlantic Ocean is still a long way away. There ain’t no railroad, nor pony express. Ships ain’t sailing out of the Bay.”

“Perhaps we could catch a lift from the mailman, Ichabod.”

“Great floating whirly-birds, it’s a flying postman!”

“So it is. Beneath a tapered balloon sits a gentleman, obviously very tired from pedaling his propellers.”

“There
is
a large, cargo basket on his contraption. Maybe he will give us a ride? He’s coming in for a landing, now, let’s ask him.”

“Good afternoon, my good postal human. Tell me, does your next scheduled mail delivery happen to be anywhere on the Atlantic seaboard?”

“Great walking piles of scrap, it’s a tin man!”

“I am what I am.”

“Well, as it happens, yes, I am about to make that three hundred mile flight. I don’t know what’s worse, the long, lonely, difficult journey, with its abusive, cross-current winds and occasional goose collisions, or the destination.”

“What’s wrong with the destination?”

“Up in the wild territories, this is a lawless land. That’s why it is the home to outlaws. Smugglers, kidnappers, scalawags, cut-throats, lawyers, mercenaries, soldiers of fortune, and bands of pirates make their home here. These days of course, the pirates are of both the sea, and the sky.”

“Golly, what is the name of this scary place?”

“Kukeezinkriem.”

“Well, sir, we’d like to go there.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Can we catch a lift from you to Kukeezinkriem?”

“Nope, it’s against regulations.”

“How about if we mail ourselves to Kukeezinkriem?”

“Nope.”

“How about we mail ourselves and Mr. Cogito does the pedaling?”

“That thing couldn’t fly this craft! It’s a very delicate operating system!”

“I disagree most emphatically, sir. In fact, I believe I have already worked out most of the control features. It would be a pleasure!”

“Hmm, the geese are really bad this time of year. Riding in the bin, I would not be subject to mid-flight migration mishaps. Just the thought of pedaling my way over this mountain range, battling cross winds all the way makes my thighs ache. Ah, what the hey, let’s do it, boys!”

*~~~*

“There sure are lots of dangerous looking ships around here, Mr. Cogito.”

“Quite. The crews equally so. I direct your receptors to the assorted airships present. There is one I am drawn to, Ichabod.”

“Yeah, she ain’t as big as some of these others, but she looks like she’ll scoot. Looks like a lot of the airship pilots frequent this disreputable looking saloon, here.”

“Come along, Ichabod, let us peruse the clientele of the Kukeezinkriem Cantina.”

“Stop right there, you two. I’m the doorman here. Your kind ain’t allowed in here.”

“It’s all right, my human friend, he’s with me.”

“Ain’t it funny how all low-end dives have the same beer-soaked carpet and stale tobacco smoke smell?”

“A ubiquitous quality throughout time, and space, I have no doubt.”

“Golly, look at them there funny coloured drinks being prepared behind the bar.”

“I turn my attention anywhere I can in an effort to distract myself from that annoying three piece bar band.”

“It is my impression, Mr. Cogito, that business what is not aboveboard is being conducted under the table.”

“Such as those two gentlemen in heated discussion perhaps?”

“Yessir. Oh my Goodness, they are drawing pistols! There is an exchange of fire, but who shot first?”

“One combatant finds himself trapped against the wall where an adhesive net has him secured.”

“You tell Bubbuzin Hok he’ll get his money after I’ve made the Greenland run. I’ll have the last payment on the Gos-Hawk on my return.”

“The Gos-Hawk? Do You mean the Aluminum Gos-Hawk? That shining silver dirigible outside?”

“That’s right, tin-boy. She’s my bird. I’m Captain Manuel Onan.”

“Gee, it’s good to shake hands with you, Captain Onan. We’d like to hire the Aluminum Gos-Hawk.”

“That’s aluminum.”

“Do you mean, aluminum?”

“No, it’s aluminum. You’re saying, ‘uh, loom, ih, num.’ I am saying aluminum.”

“No, I am saying aluminum; you are saying ‘Al, ewe, mini-uhm.’”

“We’d like to hire the Gos-Hawk for a trip to Greenland.”

“Let’s go.”

*~~~*

“I could have sworn I heard pistol fire as we were leaving Kukeezinkriem, but Captain Onan said not to worry about it.”

“How kind of him to shield us from care.”

“I told you about how I was an ordinary Alabama farmboy, but became a noted tinker and inventor with the passing of the Revelatory Comet. How about sharing some of your background, Mr. Cogito?”

“My first memories are coming awake in a laboratory workshop. My builder, a Professor Fuddlesworth, created me to be his assistant. He had been kidnapped and forced to design the weapons of war we encountered in that horrid factory. I think he created me as a companion, as much as an assistant. The poor fellow was lonely, and I believe that when he built me, he went one step beyond his master’s permission. He gave me a Cortextual Quartz Intelligence Enhancement modification.”

“Professor Fuddlesworth and I were great friends. He was like a father to me. He took me under his wing. In a way, I think he missed having his old pupils. We had access to a vast and wonderful library. Mr. ThrascheWright’s people thought I was doing research for Professor Fuddlesworth. In truth, he had given me leave to follow scholarly pursuits of my own selection.”

“My companionship was not enough to sustain poor Professor Fuddlesworth, though. He passed away. I do not think he had anything to live for, poor chap.”

“With no one to keep my spring wound, I too, passed from existence. Professor Fuddlesworth was discovered and someone thought to wind my spring. I was put to work at odd tasks throughout the vast factory system we recently departed. I learned to keep my intelligence level hidden. This was a place where it did not do to stand out. I think a type of Neurotica set in. I was very depressed. I think I have a memory of flinging myself into the overflow chute. I knew that I must flee that horrible place. My next memories are of being passed from one disappointed owner to another. My mechanical repair continued to decline. Then that little dog ran out into the streets of Winniedepuh. Something happened to me then, Mr. Temperance. I cannot explain it. I only knew that I must save that living creature from certain death. Something impelled me. I cannot claim to understand it. A malfunction in my Cortextual Quartz? I do not know. All I know is that I would not hesitate to do it again. My next memory was that of waking up in the hotel and the beginning of my time with you and Bolt.”

“We have been glad to have you along, Mr. Cogito. I don’t think that was a malfunction, neither. Love and compassion ain’t never a malfunction.”

“Love?”

“Roof!”

*~~~*

“We were lucky to make it to Greenland by air, Mr. Cogito.”

“Indeed, we barely made it to the last boat out of Ffaarmrrztan Greenland, to make it here to Penniloafers,Iceland.

“At least we caught this nice big passenger ship leaving Iceland and bound for Norway.”

“Hurry, Ichabod; we are the last passengers to board. The threat of war is putting an end to all commercial travel and she is eager to depart.”

“Oh, I can read her name across the fantail: the ‘
Immigrant’s Lullaby’.
Gee, w
hat a pretty boat she is.”

“Yes, now, up this ladder, and let us board her through this horizontal doorway in the bottom of her hull.”

“Gosh, it’s kind of scary, walking underneath something this big. The balloon that carries this double-decker gondola is as big as any Zeppelin!”

“Mind your step, as you come up through the floor hatch, sir. I am Captain Blaundi Von Sternphais; welcome aboard, gentlemen. Secure this hatchway. Cast off lines. Let’s get this ship in the air!”

“Aye, aye, Captain!”

“Gosh, I like all the sightseeing windows everywhere in this large passenger salon. Is it really safe to walk on the windows of this glass-bottomed boat?”

“Yes, sir. We only ask that your metal companion be careful not to scrape anything.”

“Of course, sir!”

“This room is so big and wide open! There are no central supports. The only thing holding up the deck are the bulkheads and the two wooden, circular stairways with brass rails on each end.”

“Ichabod, Bolt is running up the stairs!”

“I betcha I know where he’s going to. Yeppers, he found the kitchen. Howdy y’all, I’ll get this dog out from under your feet.”

“Monsieur passenger doggie, does this man belong to you? If not, I will have the steward lock him up in the luggage compartment.”

“Hunh?”

“The dog is fine, Monsieur. Enjoy your time aboard our ship.”

“Gee, thanks, mister! Come on, Mr. Cogito, let’s go up on the top deck!”

“After you, sir.”

“It’s like being on the deck of a flying clipper ship! There ain’t no big masts sticking up out of the hull, though, just a big steam furnace to provide lifting heat to her envelope, and the turning of the four big propellers.”

“The netting that secures us to the titanic balloon above is again reminiscent of sea travel, Ichabod.

“Yessir, I keep catching myself expecting sails rather than balloon over my head.”

“Are-aroon.”

“Yessir, I’m missing Miss Plumtartt, Mr. Bolt.”

“Roof!”

“Thanks, buddy, you always know what to say to make me feel better.”

“Ship ahoy!”

“Mr. Temperance, I apologize for interrupting your romantic reverie, but a ship has appeared from behind our own.”

“Yessir, I see her. Nope, uh, I see them. Uh, actually, there might be a whole fleet of airships approaching from the North-East, directly for us.”

“They approach with uncanny speed, do they not, Ichabod?”

“Yessir.”

“What do you make of it, sir?”

“Um, I think these here airships are a herd of Zeppelins. If I ain’t mistaken, I think they are battleships.”

“A large airship closes from behind. It passes through the fleet of smaller craft.”

Mr. Cogito is right. This one is truly a monster.

Leaving the rest behind, it is the lead Zeppelin.

This Lead Zeppelin.

Ah-ah-
ahhhh, ah!

Ah-ah-
ahhhh, ah
!

Sprung from ice, air maiden of snow.

From the Midnight Sun and springs that make Cogito.

I clammer for the Captain,

to sail our airship to new lands.

We don’t wanna, fight the horde.

Valhalla, I hope we are not coming!

On we sweep. This running soar.

Our only goal is the Norwegian shore!

But now I better stop!

And get back to what I was doin’.