A Research Date

“Ulrik, you are in charge.” Herr vonHedwig cast a stern eye over his assembled family. “This means what, children?”

“No arguments!” Claire glared at her siblings.

“No visiting the boiler crew,” sighed Adolphus, “no entering the galley, no throwing things at the galley, no talking to or otherwise bothering Chef.”

“No weapons, fighting, or dueling,” the twins chorused.

“No open flame, even in the laboratory, until your return,” Gerhardt recited.

“No boom,” said Bettina, her lower lip pouting.

“Thank you,” Father said.  “If you dutifully follow these rules, Ulrik will have no reason to dart you.”

“Father, that isn’t funny!” Claire objected. “Any tranquilizer strong enough to take me down would kill little Bettina!”

“Ulrik, you will not, of course, kill any of the children in our absence?”

Ulrik clicked his heels together. “Certainly not, mein Herr.” He drew a small role of cloth from the pocket of his lab coat, and unrolled it to reveal 6 tiny glass vials, each marked with a vonHedwig child’s name. “I have calculated the dosage quite precisely.”

“There you are, Claire, nothing to worry about.”

“Do rocket skates count as open flame?” Mirabelle asked.

“I’m afraid so, love,” Father said.

“Oh no!” Annabelle protested. “Then what shall we do all day?”

“I don’t suppose you could study?”

This suggestion was met with contempt. There were currently no tutors on board, and the children had grown rather lax in their academic habits. The lessons Mother and Father taught were so active that they never seemed like a lesson – experiments in the lab, dissections in the greenhouse, lively discussions on current events, thought-provoking questions about the landscape running away beneath the airship. After yesterday’s day of discovery, hours of motionless reading and writing would be deadly dull.

Luckily, an unlikely source of relief arrived. A small figure appeared in the door, covered in a hairy coat and waving a pair of skis over his head. He shouted at Ulrik in a language none of them entirely understood, but Ulrik grasped his meaning immediately.

“Please dress in all your warmest things as quick as you can, children,” he said. “The boiler chief has consented to take us all tobogganing in his launch.”

The children cheered, and ran to their cabins to change, shouting thanks at Ulrik and the boiler chief. Bettina stopped in front of him and curtseyed. His lips curled into a smile showing his yellow teeth, and he patted her head. Although she was too young to assist in the boiler room, she often accompanied one of her siblings on a shift, just to watch the crew at work. As she had not yet blown up anything they cared about, she was a great favorite among them.

Herr vonHedwig made his way to his own launch, where Madame waited for him. He stopped by the galley first, to ask Chef to prepare a picnic hamper. He, too, was pleased by the plan.

Chef (by Annabelle)

“Enfin, peace at last!” he said. “I must with the making of many marshmallows, for where do zhey go? Zhees picnic will have cocoa but no marshmallows.”

Herr vonHedwig chose not to enlighten Chef as to the marshmallows’ fate, but joined his wife at last for their expedition.

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This story began with On Grandmothers. The previous episode is The Children’s Hypothesis and the next is Aboard the Schmetterling.