Barb Zaneson's Miscellany

Minnie the Menace

The Aerial Menace adjusted her high-necked dress, and muttered, “Sit, stay, and don't chew up anything,” to the mechanical dachshund who had followed her into the Dainesworths' dusty parlor. The dog sat beside a dying potted fern, and froze, conserving the coal that powered its internal boiler. The Menace set her heavy hatbox on the floor beside an armchair, and sat down to wait.

A few minutes later, Gloria Dainesworth limped into the parlor on crutches. She wore a beautiful green dress, and one green slipper. Her other foot was covered by a plaster cast. ”Minnie,“ she said, ”You look like a librarian. How good of you to come.“

The Menace grinned. ”It's good to see you walking.“

Gloria sank onto a couch. ”The doctor said I'll never skate again. And my automaton partner couldn't be repaired. He was sent to the recyclers." She shuddered. "My Steam-Powered Ice Folly days are over, Minnie."

“Maybe a present will help? Dog, greet Gloria.”

The dachshund creaked as it stood and walked over to Gloria. It sniffed her good foot.

“Or, be friendly to Gloria?”

The dog looked up and wagged its tail. Gloria patted its head. It froze. Gloria pulled her hand away.

The Menace said, “Sorry. I don't know all its commands. We looted a ship headed for an inventors' conference last week. When I saw the dog, I thought of you.”

“It's charming,” said Gloria. “But I need more than a dog, Minnie. I need to get out of this boring town. I need a new life.”

The Menace lowered her voice, expecting eavesdropping servants. “Have you ever considered piracy?”

“With my bad leg?”

“Most of the crew have been hurt worse than that. One chap doesn't even have a leg. You'd be fine.”

“Well, it's better than sitting around my parents' house, resisting their efforts to marry me to some idiot. Fine. I'll join you.”

The Menace grinned, hoping Gloria would be fierce enough for piracy. “Pack some warm clothes. Can you leave tonight?”

“I can leave now.”

*

Half an hour later, the luggage-laden Menace helped Gloria climb out of a steam carriage into the fog near the airfield. The dog followed them.

“You there,” shouted a constable. “Stop at once.”

The Menace recognized him from earlier. “I told you already, sir. I'm not working with those pirates.”

“You fooled me once. But I found a description of your attack dog back at the station. It's stolen. You're coming with me.”

Gloria looked down at the dachshund. “Oh, heavens. An attack dog? This little darling?”

“Yes, ma'am. And your maidservant is a pirate in disguise.”

“So,” said the Menace. “If I yell,” and she yelled, “Attaaack him!” She smiled. “Then he will?”

The dachshund darted toward the constable, metal jaws open. The constable cursed, and ran.

The Menace set down the luggage. She pulled off her dress, revealing the black trousers and shirt that she'd worn beneath it. From the hatbox, she took out and put on an Admiral's hat, flight goggles, and a holstered steam pistol, then stuffed the dress into the box. “Ready?”

“Definitely.”

The Menace whistled twice. The fog filled with a mechanical thumping sound. Soon the ends of two rope ladders landed beside Gloria.

“Here,” said the Menace, “Hang onto one, and they'll pull you up.”

She watched Gloria rise into the fog. She grabbed her hatbox and Gloria's suitcase and crutches, and was about to ascend when the dog returned.

In its teeth was a fabric shred that matched the constable's trousers, but there was no blood. The dog flopped over like a live dog playing dead. The Menace hoped two whistles was merely the dog's command to play dead, and not a comment about the constable.

“Stop that. Climb the ladder.”

The dog rolled upright and trudged up the rope ladder with surprising mechanical agility. The Menace followed it, wondering if the dog had a command for carrying luggage. When the Menace reached the top, Gloria hugged her.

“Oh, this is so exciting. I'm going to love being a pirate, Minnie.”

The Menace looked at the black balloon overhead, and the jolly roger flying above her cabin, and the rough air pirates readying the ship to depart. “It's rarely dull. But now please stop using my old name. Call me Admiral, or Aerial Menace.”

The dog bared its metal teeth and growled, menacingly.

The Menace said, “Stop it. That was not a command.”

Gloria laughed. “Good little pirate dog.”