Sleipnir took a deep breath. She had a large oily bag festooned with glowing rods and pipes that began to pour out an acrid smoke. “And I’ll get that beastie with my Hot Pipes!” She blew into a mouthpiece, spitting out an earsplitting shriek along with a thin stream of brilliant green flame. This enveloped a set of the device’s arms, covering them with a sticky, burning coating.
Krosp took in the resulting chaos. “Great. Now the crowd is hemmed in by the stalagmites while the flaming clank advances.”
Theo and Sleipnir looked abashed. “We can fix that,” Theo assured the cat.
Zeetha dodged a set of metal hooks. “They are trying to help, yes?”
Gil sighed. “It’s my fault, really. I make it look easy.”
Another set of manipulators burst forth. “How many arms did you build into this thing?”
“It’s making more,” Gil told her.
“Hi! Are you a tramp?”
While they were chopping arms, neither one of them had noticed that a small girl had wandered up to them. She was obviously fascinated by Zeetha. “Mama says you must be a tramp ’cause of the way you’re dressed.” Zeetha frantically swiped away a set of arms that were reaching for the girl. “Either that, or you’re an actress.” The girl turned to Krosp. “You’re a kitty.”
Krosp grabbed the girl and swung her away from a large grasping hand. “Do you like cheese?” she asked.
“Hey!” Krosp yelled at Gil. “Prince Myshkin! This thing just wants to catch someone, right?”
“Yes!”
“Would it hurt them?”
“No!”
Krosp smiled. “Fine. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to get involved, but if I don’t, we’ll be stuck here all night.”
Gil looked alarmed. “Krosp, wait! Don’t do anything dangerous!”
“Relax. I’ll be fine.” The cat shoved the little girl directly into the grasp of the device. Instantly it formed a cage. There was a “pop” and a small burst of confetti, followed by a few bars of victorious music. Then the clank stood still.
The girl’s eyes went wide with delight. “MOMMA!” she squealed, “I’M INNA SHOW!”
The audience cheered.
Zeetha grabbed the cat by the scruff of his neck. “Krosp!”
“What? No one got hurt!” This was so evidently true that Zeetha could only glare.
Gil smiled charmingly as the little girl’s mother strode forward. “Don’t worry, ma’am, she’s—oof!” He gasped as the woman sank her fist into his stomach.
“Hyu peeg!” the woman hissed. “Get her out, now!”
Krosp shrugged. “Well, no one important.” He eyed the surrounding sea of faces. “So, showbiz girl, big enough crowd?”
“Yeah.” Zeetha graciously accepted a robe from an admiring monk, who was having serious second thoughts about his current lifestyle choices, and donned it to a wave of collective disappointment. “This should be good.”
Meanwhile, Sleipnir had twisted back enough of the bars that the little girl could wriggle free. “There you go, kid.”
The girl twirled and curtsied at Gil. “Thanks! So long, funny man.”
Gil gave a wan smile. “So lo—gooorgh!” Another sock to the gut caused him to drop to his knees.
“Hyu bad man,” the woman hissed. “Hyu no talk to my leedle gurl.”
Theo helped Gil to his feet. “Wow. Still the ladies’ man.”
“Will you give it a rest,” Gil snarled. He looked around at the crowd and nodded. “Okay, I’m ready to speak.”
Krosp and Zeetha glanced at each other. “Maybe you should let someone introduce you.”
Zeetha nodded. “Yeah. On your own, you’re too—”
Gil impatiently waved them off. “I can introduce myself.” He turned to the crowd. “People of Mechanicsburg,” he shouted. “I suppose you’re wondering what this is all about?”
Actually, everyone in the crowd was already pretty sure. A shower of coins hit the ground around Gil’s feet.
Gil waved his arms. “No! No! This isn’t a show! I’m serious!”
The audience laughed. One wag called out, “So what’s your name, kid?”
Krosp rubbed his forehead with his paw. “I knew we should’ve introduced him,” he muttered.
Gil squared his shoulders. “I am Gilgamesh Wulfenbach. I’m the Baron’s son.”
The crowd stared at him. Then erupted with howls of laughter. The wag pointed to Krosp. “I get it! And that’s the Baron’s dog, isn’t it?”
“And she’s the Baron’s daughter!” Zeetha’s face went red.
“And those are your oafish minions!” Theo and Sleipnir looked around until they realized where the crowd was pointing.
“And you must also be the gol-danged Storm King!” The sight of Gil’s face sent the crowd into such peals of laughter that many of them collapsed to the ground.
“What’ll we do?” Zeetha hissed. “He’s going to kill them.”
Suddenly Gil threw his head back and laughed. Krosp and Zeetha jumped. “That’s right, folks!”
Then Gil, lightning stick glowing, started back up the stairway to the castle entrance. “So follow me! The second act is just about to start!” And with that, he turned and bounded up the stairs.
Theo and Sleipnir looked at each other. “Uh-oh.”
They rushed over to Krosp and Zeetha just as Airman Higgs ambled up. “Nice moves,” he remarked to Zeetha.
For some reason, the realization that the airman had seen the whole performance—including her state of undress—caused Zeetha to blush furiously. That he had so little to say about it only annoyed her further. “Come on,” she said brusquely. “We can’t let him get too far ahead.”
The two soldiers guarding the castle gate were gazing skyward again. Gil’s fireworks display had died down but they were still hopeful and it provided a convenient hook for another of the old soldier’s recollections. “And that was the last time Professor Phosphorous visited the fireworks factory.” He thought for a moment. “Or anything else, really.”
The younger soldier digested this. “Wow. So is that what you think we saw?”
The old soldier shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me, kid.” He waved a knowing hand at the brightly lit town below. “Lotsa loony Sparks come through Mechanicsburg.”
The younger man, whose career as a raconteur was doomed by an unshakable respect for actual facts, pointed towards the East. “But they only got the one factory here and I don’t see anything going on with it.”
“In this town? It could’ve been an explosion in a coffee shop. I heard from one of the guys on the day shift that—”
This interesting line of discourse was silenced by the sound of footsteps at the top of the stairs. The soldiers looked down and recognized the three young people who had appeared before, now accompanied by a throng of townspeople and delighted tourists. Their voices grew louder as they drew near.
“Gil, you’re making me nervous…”
“How can that be?” Both of the guards snapped to attention. There was something about the young man’s voice now that made them uneasy. “A jolly entertainer like myself? A spreader of mirth?”
“At least…stop smiling like that. It’s creepy.”
“But everyone is having such a good time!”
“If you look like a demented idiot, no one will take you seriously.”
This voice appeared to come from a midget in a cat costume. The guards looked at each other. Street performers. Simultaneously, they thumbed the safeties of their rifles off.
“But no one takes me seriously now!” Gil waved at the soldiers and took another step towards them, grinning maniacally.
“HALT!” The older soldier raised a hand while the younger ostentatiously cocked his weapon.56 “You young’uns just turn around and head back to whatever tavern you came out of!”