Wandering Agent
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Machinist Chapter 20 Gardens
🕑 Added 2024-01-30 02:21:46 +0000 UTCA few days after I had dinner with my... friends? They were still so young, it was honestly odd to call them that, perhaps peers would be a better word, if an odd one. Regardless, a few days after that meeting I made my way down to the botanical gardens mentioned. I didn't have any particular interest in flowers, though I liked them as well as anything else, but the idea that one of those creatures was loose did pique my interest a bit.
My family was generally accepting of my desire to see the gardens, after all a young gentleman familiarizing himself with botany was considered appropriate. Turned out a lot of flowers had meanings to them, and a bouquet could be either a declaration of love or a fancy way to tell someone they're a jerk. The fact that so much meaning was ascribed seemed patently ridiculous to me, but it'd be good to know for the future.
Mrs. Lutte was of course not fooled at all, and had stared daggers at me the whole ride here. Unfortunately for her I'd managed to catch my parents when she wasn't around to ask them to come, and they were unlikely to go back on heir word just because I had ulterior motives.
“Percival,” she began as we got out. “I would appreciate it if you didn't wander off today.” She was still my nanny after all so would be escorting me.
“I have no plan to,” I told her.
“Percival,” she groaned.
“Today,” I clarified. “I just want to look around, see what's here. Not like any monsters are going to come out in the middle of the day anyway Mrs. Lutte.”
“It's a wonder your mother doesn't beat you,” she griped under her breath.
“Not really, what would she even use? I'm tough enough that most things capable of hurting me are way too dangerous.” I was being a bit more flip than usual, but it was a beautiful day and I was going to enjoy seeing the gardens.
“Perhaps I should consult with your grandmother then,” Mrs. Lutte replied.
I gave her a horrified look. Most of my grandparents were fairly tolerant of me, but my maternal grandmother was a harridan if ever there was one. She also had no tolerance for any nonsense and a preternatural ability to catch me at mischief. Luckily I could keep the dragon sated with good manners and politeness, but having a servant complain that it was impossible to have discipline around me would have repercussions I was sure.
“You know I really do just plan to look around right?” I asked, hoping we could step back from what might be an impending war.
“Oh I believe you. For everything else you do always make your intentions clear.”
After a short ride we arrived, and I was quite surprised at the place. When I'd heard that there were gardens here I was expecting an outdoor affair, and while there were some of that most of it was indoors in massive greenhouses. Between these was trellis after trellis of more cold tolerant plant. Really I should have expected them to be indoor, with it being winter and all, but I'd not really thought about it.
As for the gardens themselves, they were magnificent. The glass houses shone in the morning sun, almost uncomfortably warm and filled to the brim with both seasonal and exotic plants. Flowers in shades of red and purple in beds and falling from raised sections of wall, vines dripping with white star shaped blooms. There were a good few fruits too, most of which looked to be tropical. Mixed in with all of these were ferns and bushes of varieties I'd never seen in either of my lives.
There was of course one that was missing, though in all honesty I'd not expected it. Out of curiosity I stopped one of the workers and ask him.
“Sir, have you ever seen a vine that makes a light purple-blue fruit, about this big?” I inquired, holding out my hands.
“Can't say I have,” he answered with a thick accent. “Do ya know the name of it?”
“No, I'm afraid not.” I shrugged, it wasn't too important.
“Can you say where you saw it?” he continued on.
“In a cave. I suspect the plant was magical if that helps.”
“Ah, that makes sense,” he nodded. “Don't have no magic plants here sir, some of them are dangerous, and some unique. All I can say is to be careful round them things, not all are friendly.”
I smiled, didn't I know it. Last time I'd seen that particular plant it'd killed me, so dangerous seemed apt as a description.
Did I really care about the plant? No, not truly, and while I missed parts of my home I couldn't really imagine going back. I was happy here, with actual superpowers and a family that cared for me, what more could I really ask for?
I nearly bid the man goodbye, but behind him I saw something that caught my eye. “Sir, what's that?” I asked.
“Oh? Ah, them's the steam tunnels, keep the place warm. They run steam through pipes out from the Royal Society I'm told, no matter how cold it gets the hothouses are always warm. Might bit better than the way we used to do it, had to bury the tropical pants in dung and all that.” That sounded profoundly awful, but my attention was more on the small steaming vent.
Now, I knew the elven lands were far more tropical than our lands, and the goblins were from somewhere around there. If I were a tropical little monster that wanted to hide, where would be better than the nice warm tunnels? Perhaps...
As I looked up I saw Mrs. Lutte giving me the stink eye. Her hands were on her hips, stare locked on me. Before I could get in too much trouble I thanked the nice man and turned from the tunnel's entrance. After all, why did I need to go down there today when I was planning to spend so much time at the Royal Society anyway? Certainly I'd have plenty of time to get in via that route.
While we finished up I spent my time trying to think of the best way into the tunnels. I imagined myself slinking through, catching the lost little monster and maybe even ending up in the paper for my bravery. Those things had been kept in by that cage when I was little, and for that reason alone I could tell that they weren't that strong. Heck, I was probably bigger than them even now.
Then again if I did end up causing trouble it might fall on my grandfather. Perhaps care was a better idea.
Sadly Mrs. Lutte dashed my plans as soon as we returned home, running off to tell my mother that I'd found out about tunnels under the gardens. She'd even heard the man say that they were connected to the Royal Society, a looming disaster for any searching I might do. Grandfather would be sure to be informed, and while he might manage to get in to look for any monsters I most certainly wouldn't be allowed.
