Hamish X and the Hollow Mountain (9 page)

“Come with us.” Aidan and Cara led them down to the cargo hold. Parveen pressed the red button by the cargo
door and it lowered itself to the stone floor with a scrape and a clunk.

“Welcome to the Hollow Mountain,” Aidan said. He marched down the ramp to the platform. Parveen, Mimi, Mr. Kipling, and Mrs. Francis hesitated. Aidan saw their worried expressions. He stood at the bottom of the ramp and beckoned, a smile on his face. “No need to fear. You're safe now under the protection of the King of Switzerland.” Cautiously, the Windcity refugees walked down the ramp into a strange new land.

The locals gathered around them, their fresh, clean faces staring openly at these new arrivals. They whispered behind their hands to each other, discussing the strange new children from Windcity.
²⁸
Oddly, when Mr. Kipling and Mrs. Francis emerged from the
Orphan Queen
the children shrank back from the adults, eyes wide with fear.

“What's wrong with them?” Mrs. Francis said. “They act as though they've never seen a grownup before.”

“Most of them haven't. No adults allowed in the Hollow Mountain,” Aidan explained.

Mrs. Francis gaped. “What? No adults? Who takes care of them?”

Cara squared her shoulders and answered. “We take care of ourselves.”

Aidan addressed the waiting crowd. “Don't worry,” he said. “I can assure everybody that Mr. Kipling and Mrs. Francis are friends to orphans of the world and companions of Hamish X.” The children seemed soothed by this news and began to creep closer again. “You see,”
Aidan explained to Mrs. Francis, “they aren't used to trusting grownups.”

“Poor dears.” Mrs. Francis gazed around at the children with such open affection that one of them, a small girl in a green jumpsuit, crept forward and wrapped her arms around the chubby woman's leg. Mrs. Francis stroked the top of the girl's head and smiled. The dam broke and more children clustered around her, hungry for the affection of lost mommies and daddies, half remembered but always missed.

Mimi and Parveen found themselves staring, but not at the children. Rather, they were staring at the creatures that gathered around the feet of the children. Standing up on hind legs, tiny forepaws tucked into their chests, was a pack of raccoons. They were of uniform size and identical colour, their glossy black eyes blinking in the black masks of their faces.

Parveen pointed at the animals. “I'm sorry, but are those …”

“Raccoons,” all the raccoons said in unison. It was hard to decide which was more disturbing: the fact that they were speaking or that they were speaking in a synchronized way. “We are not exactly raccoons. Our outward appearance is that of a raccoon. We are actually automatons, designed to be the conduit of the central artificial intelligence that is George. We are George. George welcomes you to the Hollow Mountain.”

“Wait a moment,” Parveen said. “You are robots?”

“Very sophisticated robots, yes.” The raccoons spoke together. They all pursed their lips in a strangely human expression. “We prefer the term Automated Mammal, but robot is accurate.” Having made this distinction, they all waved a hand towards the metal cylinder. “The King is eager to meet you. Your escort is arriving.”

An opening appeared in the cylinder. With a soft whoosh, two panels slid apart to reveal an elevator car. A pair of older children stood in the elevator. They wore black uniforms with the now-familiar silver cross on the right breast, a more formal version of Aidan's and Cara's bodysuits.

A frail boy with tousled red hair and pale skin appeared between them, looking small and bent in contrast to the alert bearing of his attendants. Hunched over a pair of crutches, smiling, he eased himself out onto the platform.

The effect on the crowd of children was immediate. They all bowed their heads. Aidan and Cara went down on one knee with a hand pressed over the crosses on their tunics.

“Majesty,” Aidan said.

The King made his way out of the elevator car. Though he moved on crutches he was surprisingly agile, weaving his way through the children, patting each on the shoulder and greeting them as he came.

“Stand up straight, Simon. No need to bow … Sarah! You've grown an inch or two … Akelia, so nice to see you again!” Each child brightened as he made his little comments, glowing with delight that he remembered each of their names. Mimi and Parveen were impressed with his memory skills.

“So young to be a king,” Mrs. Francis whispered. “Just a boy …”

As they drew nearer they were able to study him in detail. He was a boy, a little older than Mimi, but he appeared frail and unhealthy. His eyes were bright blue, but dark circles beneath them spoke of sleepless nights. His skin was pale as if he rarely saw the sun. He was thin and his hands shook slightly. A shock of straight, carrot-orange hair fell over his right eye and his mouth turned up at the corner in a sad half smile.

His forehead was beaded with sweat after his walk through the crowd, and presently he pulled a white silk handkerchief from his pocket. Embroidered in one corner was the silver cross. The handkerchief, like all his clothing, looked rich and soft. He was dressed in a simple tunic and trousers cut from deep green velvet. The tunic was fastened up the front with shiny silver buttons. One of the buttons midway up was open, as though he had dressed in a hurry. Embroidered over his right breast was the silver cross.

At last he arrived in front of the little group of newcomers. He was flushed and breathing hard. “Whew, hello there. I am Liam, the Seventy-Sixth King of Switzerland. A moment, please.” He held up the handkerchief and grinned. “I should get more exercise.” After wiping the sweat from his forehead, he raised his eyes to take in Mimi and Parveen. “It's nice to finally meet you. When we heard you were coming, I did my best to collect as much information about you as possible.” He smiled at Mimi. “Mimi Catastrophe Jones, born in Cross Plains, Texas, to William and Marguerita Jones. Mother a schoolteacher. Father played for several minor league baseball teams. In his best year, he hit forty homeruns for the Sweetwater Mudsquirrels
²⁹
of the West Texas baseball league. Mother and father sadly deceased.”

Mimi stood open-mouthed as the King turned to Parveen. “Parveen Paravati, youngest of thirteen children to Raj and Maraha Paravati. Father a labourer in a ballpoint pen factory. Mother a singer in Bollywood films. I hear you have a knack with machines. I think you will enjoy our technical labs. I also have a surprise for you, but it can wait until later.”

King Liam winked at Parveen and turned his attention to Mr. Kipling and Mrs. Francis. “Welcome, Mrs. Francis. Your kindness and generosity are legendary among orphans. We thank you for the good works you attempted under Viggo Schmatz's difficult tenure in Windcity.” Mrs. Francis couldn't restrain herself any longer. She reached out for the King. His Guards leaned in to protect him, but Liam raised a restraining hand. Mrs. Francis deftly fastened the loose button and tugged the King's tunic down gently, smoothing out the fabric with her rough, red hands.

“Forgive me.” Mrs. Francis blushed as she stepped back. “I couldn't help it.”

The King merely smiled. “There's nothing to forgive. And Mr. Kipling, you have helped bring Hamish X and all
these children here to the Hollow Mountain. For that, you have our eternal gratitude.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I have to say, adults are forbidden in my realm, but for you two I will make an exception. These are special times. We must be flexible.”

The King clapped his hands. “Let's get the other children assigned to quarters and find a place to stow this ship. Hamish X must be taken to the medical lab immediately. There's no time to waste.”

The raccoons moved forward to enter the ship.

Mimi blocked the way. Hands on her hips, she scowled. “Just hold yer … raccoons, mister. We ain't gonna jest hand ar friend over jest like that. Hamish X and the kids and nobody else ain't goin' anywhere until you tell us what's goin' on and why. We've come all the way from Windcity Orphanage and Cheese Factory 'cause our friend needs some help.”

“Mimi!” Mrs. Francis was about to scold her, but the King held up a pale hand.

“Of course, you are correct, Mimi. You are being asked to trust me and take everything on faith. I know that's hard because your life up to this point has been filled with mistrust, disappointment, and heartbreak. What can I tell you that will soothe your fears?”

“Where exactly are we at?” Mimi said. “If it ain't too much trouble.”

“Ah,” King Liam smiled. “Let me explain. You are in my kingdom: the Hollow Mountain. The Hollow City. You are safe here for as long as you wish to stay. Come with me, please. I have food and drink and a place for you to rest. You've come a long way.”

Mimi and Parveen wanted nothing more than to eat and rest. They hadn't been able to let down their guard
since Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet had come to take Hamish X away. Still though, Mimi crossed her arms over her chest and defiantly set her jaw.

“You listen here, yer worship, highness or whatever,” she said sternly. “We've been brought all the way here and we ain't goin' a step further until we gets some kinda explanation. Yer Guards here”—she jabbed a thumb at Aidan and Cara—“they wouldn't tell us nuthin'. What is this place? Who are you? Why did you give Hamish X that knife and what's goin' on with ar friend? He ain't been the sanest fellar I ever met from day one but things just took a turn fer the worse and I want to make shore he's gonna be all right.”

Liam looked at her for a moment and he smiled. He winked at her and chuckled softly. “You were right in your report, Aidan. She is a force to be reckoned with. Mimi and Parveen, I understand your reluctance and your fears. I'm pleased Hamish X fell in with such good souls. He has such a weight on his shoulders and he couldn't have better people to share his load. All will be explained, I promise you.” He gestured towards the crutches in his hands. “I am not in the best of health, as I'm sure you've noticed. Standing for a long time can be a chore. There is another reason we've got to hurry. Hamish X is in a perilous state. Each hour that passes is dangerous for him. I wish to restore him to his proper self. My technicians and I have developed a process that may be able to waken him and heal him. I ask only that you give me the benefit of the doubt.”

Mimi frowned. She looked to Parveen, who shrugged. “I don't know what else to do,” he said. “I suppose we have to trust someone.”

“In your shoes I'd be suspicious, too,” the King said.
“Can we compromise? Hamish X must be prepared for the process. While my people are doing that, we'll eat and I'll tell you what I know. If you still feel the same fears, you can take Hamish X and go on your way. Deal?” The King held out his hand.

Mimi narrowed her eyes and hesitated. Finally, she said, “Here's the conditions: Mr. Kipling and Mrs. Francis go with Hamish X and he don't leave their sight fer even a second. We hear yer tale and if we think yer on the up-and-up, we'll let ya do yer process er whatever.” Mimi held out her hand.

The King beamed and shook Mimi's hand. “Follow me.”

He carefully wheeled around and started back across the stone platform, his crutches scraping on the rough surface. Aidan and Cara fell in beside him, each hovering protectively at an elbow should their King slip and fall.

Behind them Mimi and Parveen passed through the gaping crowd of children and entered the elevator. The doors whisked shut and they rose up into the Hollow City.

Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet

The Concorde Super Sonic Transport was the ultimate in passenger transport for more than two decades. The distinctive, needle-nosed aircraft flew faster than sound between New York and London, breaking every speed record on the books. Unfortunately, the fleet was expensive to maintain and produced a great deal of noise pollution. When the planes were mothballed at the turn of the millennium, the ODA were quick to purchase them at a discount. On one of these recycled planes, zooming at twice the speed of sound across the dark expanse of the North Atlantic, Messrs. Candy and Sweet were employing the well-cushioned seats previously enjoyed by first-class passengers.

“An hour and a half until touchdown,” Mr. Sweet said.

“Then three hours to the last known location of Hamish X,” Mr. Candy added. “Once we've met our local operatives on the ground in Switzerland.”

“We will find him.”

“Yes. We will. And erase any who stand in our way.”

Mr. Sweet swivelled his head, surveying the rest of the passenger seats. They were filled with other agents, clad in the grey uniform of the ODA, waiting patiently for the trip to be over.

“We shall track the asset down. He is surely in the custody of the King. When we find Hamish X, we find the King's hidden lair and we strike.”