Lady Hyacinth Grimm vs the Nautilus

Chapter 11: Beethoven's Fifth

Hyacinth looked around the Secret Service's attack submarine in delight. It was larger than the Widowmaker and filled with all sorts of things that looked normal but which turned out to be spy devices. When turned, the lamps in the hallways revealed secret passageways, or recited recorded messages (which were either in ingenious code or truly someone's grocery list), or detached from the wall and chased you with a tiny knife. Hyacinth insisted on stopping and trying each one as they passed, resulting in a darkened hallway all the way from the airlock to the debriefing/interrogation room.

In the debriefing/interrogation room were the pair of spooks Hyacinth had dealt with previously. Or possibly different pair; Hyacinth's upbringing had focused so much on fashion that she had difficulty telling two uniformed people apart. In any case, the taller spook greeted her with: "First that disappointing showing with the octopus, and now you're late?"

"My dearest Lady Hyacinth, how wonderful of you to join us to toast to your dramatic success!" the shorter one said.

Hyacinth squinted at each of them. "Did the two of you switch roles?"

"What an interesting thought," the short one said.

"You're babbling nonsense," the taller one said. "You'd best have a brilliant plan to make up for your mediocre one."

Hyacinth pursed her lips and told the tall one, "Either you're not very good at being the 'bad' spook, or the Secret Service is thrilled by my control over the octopus."

"We're thrilled!"

The tall one grumbled, "It can barely be called control," but the corners of their lips were twitching up in a smile. "There is still a long way to go, though! Charging about in random directions may be enough for an initial experiment--barely--but we're looking for some more tangible benefits."

Hyacinth paused her happy wiggle dance to ask, "Like what?"

"Like charging at and destroying all the enemies of the British Empire and the East India Trading Company. Particularly enemy submarines."

"Oh, like the Conch!" Hyacinth realized. At their blank looks, she said, "You know, that Indian man's submarine."

"It's called the Nautilus, actually."

"No, I don't think it is. I remember the submarine was alliterative with the captain's name, Cook."

"No, it's Captain Nemo, not... Look, can we focus on controlling the giant octopus?"

"Yes, of course. It didn't really like the yodeling, did it?"

"I don't think any of us did," the tall spook said. "It seemed quite roused by the William Tell Overture, though."

"The what?" Hyacinth asked.

"Bada-bum, bada-bum..."

"The Poisons and Toxins song, you mean."

"Yes, that one. Do you have any even more exciting? Or... angry?"

Hyacinth scrunched her nose. "No, I don't know any angry lullabies, that would be ridiculous. Are you sure that's a good idea? The giant octopus seemed rather angry on its own."

"Thank you so very much for all of your assistance, Mad Scientist First Class Lady Hyacinth," the short one cooed. "This is meant in no possible way as a slight to your brilliance and acumen, but now is the time to bring in the specialists."

"Specialists?" Hyacinth asked.

~~~~

The Candiru left, and two days later a swarm of Her Royal Majesty's Secret Service spooks arrived in a giant pink war blimp, along with England's top marine psychologist musicians. They parachuted down inside a submarine that was three times the size of the Widowmaker; it had to be that large to accommodate the full orchestra inside.