Gilbert Guttlebocker,

Defender of Dragons

3. Radioactive Pants

You look so much better now, Gilbert sweetie! Those tacos must have done the trick!” Gilbert's mother adjusted his collar as they stood at the foot of the loading elevator that would deliver the young man to the docking platform 250 feet over their heads. The boy stood tensely, looking up at her, wondering if he would ever see her again.

“Who would've thought anyone could look so sick just from having a late lunch!” his father added, the interior leather of his gauntlet resting warmly between Gilbert's shoulders.

“Lunch is very important, you know. Now, Gilbert, make sure you're more careful with food when you get to Siberia. Make sure you eat on time, so you don't have another episode. And make sure you eat healthy food, not just cookies and candy,” his mother lectured.

“Yes, son. You are what you eat.”

Gilbert turned his gaze toward his father.

“Dad,” he pondered out loud, welcoming the distracting opportunity to turn his mind to things more mundane than a fiery death, “if John the Baptist ate locusts and wild honey, what was he?”

Sir Gawain knelt down next to his son. “He was a Baptist, Gilbert. He held strongly to the autonomy of the local congregation, eschewing denominational totalitarianism.”

Gilbert nodded gently.

“I love you, boy. When you come back, you'll be a man.”

The boy nodded again.

Gawain wrapped his armor-covered arms around his son and held him in a long, metal hug.

“I'm going to miss you,” he said.

“I'll miss you too, Dad,” Gilbert responded, his voice cracking.

Lady Gertrude pressed a handkerchief to one eye and then stepped in to join the family hug.

The three devoted family members embraced warmly as several other voyagers, also at the foot of the loading elevator, likewise said their goodbyes to family and friends.

Including Gilbert, twelve passengers would ride the rocket to Siberia that day. There was room for thirteen on every trip, but as luck would have it on this particular trip, the thirteenth seat was empty.

The ticket for that seat had been purchased by an elderly inventor originally from Chicago. If I told you this doctor's name, you would no doubt have heard of him, but since I have not asked for permission from his family, I will simply leave his identity anonymous.

The man held patents for over thirty household inventions, several of which you yourself probably use on a daily basis — such as the Water Clock, a wrist-watch that sprays water in the face of anyone who checks the time; and the Spit Sanitizer, a filter worn around the face that cleans one's saliva as it exits the mouth; and, of course, the one that made him a billionaire overnight, the Roofless Dwelling, a manufactured home whose construction costs merely a fraction of what roofed homes usually cost to build, and also eliminates all roof-related maintenance concerns! Indeed, the man was a true genius, and the world is a far better place because of his hard work and phenomenal insights.

He had been planning a trip to Siberia to gather data on Siberian Llamas in their natural habitat. However, before leaving to start that new project, he had to finish testing his latest invention — Radioactive Pants.

Unfortunately for the late doctor, the pants fit him quite well. And so, only twelve voyagers would climb aboard the rocket that day.

“All aboard!” the elevator conductor shouted, peering closely at his wristwatch, a cheap thing that lacked modern water-spraying features.

Gilbert's father and mother released the boy from their loving embrace, and he turned toward the elevator. His trunk was already loaded in the baggage compartment of the rocket, so all the boy needed to carry was his backpack. The young man tightened the straps of the bag on his back and took a reluctant step into the metal cage that would lift him high above his family.

Staring at the decrepit rocket thrusters in front of him, Gilbert swallowed hard.

Once he was securely in the cage, he turned to face his parents one last time and gripped the side rail tightly.

The other travelers climbed aboard the elevator as well. They came from a variety of backgrounds, with varied reasons for taking this particular flight across the continents. One young lady, about six months younger than our hero, with freckles covering her face and frizzy orange braids with green ribbons in her hair, stepped up next to Gilbert, her enraptured smile showing off the braces on her teeth.

“Are you going to the Academy?” she asked him.

He turned away from his parents momentarily to see who had asked him about his plans.

“Um... yeah,” he eloquently responded.

Then the boy turned back to his parents, attempting to indelibly etch their figures in his mind.

“Bernice!” called a beautiful lady in the crowd, looking directly at the young redhead. “Bernice!”

“Bernice!” demanded a knight in full armor, standing next to the lady. “Your mother is calling you!”

The redheaded girl struggled to turn her gaze away from the gallant young man next to her, to return her eyes to her parents.

“Now remember what we said, Bernice. Don't get distracted at the Academy. You're there to learn how to become a proper maiden, a proper lady. You are not going there to meet boys!”

Bernice rolled her bright blue eyes as her mother lectured her, and then turned back to Gilbert, whose mind was fixated on his own parents.

“I'm going to the academy too,” she whispered in the boy's ear.

Gilbert flinched at the unexpected rush of air into his ear and the peculiar girl who felt she had the right to speak so intimately to him when he really had not even met her.

“Please,” he told her, “I'm saying goodbye to my parents.”

The boy turned back toward his mother and father and smiled as brave a smile as he could muster, trying to expel any thoughts of rusted rockets and tumbledown thrusters. His parents smiled back and waved as the conductor closed the elevator gate and pulled the lever that started the creaky machine on its upward journey.

Gilbert waved at his slowly shrinking parents, who waved right back at him. Bernice took her eyes away from Gilbert long enough to manage a smile and a wave at her parents as well, growing ever distant, who gladly waved back at their daughter.

“Work hard! Make us proud!” Gilbert's father called, his voice already growing faint as the elevator rose toward the docking platform above them.

“Did you pack a change of underwear in your backpack?” Gilbert's mother shouted.

The boy nodded vigorously, hoping she could see the movement of his head clearly enough that she would not shout out that question again.

“Stay away from boys!” Bernice's mother called out to her daughter. “They'll only distract you!”

“Yes, Mom! I know!” Bernice answered, exasperated.

As the elevator rose, the two groups — those riding the elevator, and those on the ground saying goodbye — continued to wave at one another. Some cried tears of sorrow. Others couldn't help but giggle at the excitement of the journey before them. Gilbert, however, became more and more fearful of a fiery death.

At last, the elevator came to a sudden stop as the travelers reached the docking platform. The elevator conductor pulled a lever beside him and the gate behind the group dropped.

“Please exit the lift at the rear, proceed across the docking platform, and then head straight through the hatch,” he instructed.

“Are you going to be a knight?” Bernice asked Gilbert as they turned away from their parents to exit the elevator.

“Um...” Gilbert began.

They passed through the ship's hatch and entered the passenger cabin, where thirteen individual seats, each bolted to the steel floor, circled the interior of the room, facing inward.

“You are, aren't you? You're going to be a handsome knight in shining armor, fighting for the good, slaying dragons, and saving fair maidens — fair maidens like me — aren't you?” She batted her eyelids at the boy.

“Uh…” Gilbert responded.

“Please sit down in any of the passenger seats in front of you,” came a feminine voice over a loudspeaker.

“At the academy, I'll sit next to you in every class. You can be my boyfriend. And then I know that you'll protect me from harm!” Bernice insisted.

“Isn't…?” the boy attempted, as he climbed into one of the tall-backed seats.

“I bet your powerful right arm will keep me safe from all kinds of danger!” the girl continued, as she climbed into the seat directly to Gilbert's right.

“Please make sure to connect and tighten all five belts of your harness into your central buckle, which should be placed across your chest. The elevator conductor will confirm that each of you has your belts securely fastened properly.”

“Isn't the academy…?” he tried again.

“When we get married, you'll wear a handsome suit of armor, and I'll wear a gorgeous white wedding dress with lots of lace! We'll have so much fun!”

The elevator conductor began checking the seatbelts of each of the voyagers, making certain they were fastened securely. With each passenger, he pulled hard on their buckle, tightened whatever was necessary, and moved on, mumbling in a complacent monotone, “Don't unfasten your seatbelt until we arrive at our destination.”

“Isn't the Academy just for boys?” Gilbert finally asked Bernice as they waited for the conductor to check their belts.

“Just for boys?” the young lady repeated, shocked. “Of course not! That would be so sexist! Of course, it used to be just for boys until two years ago, then it was opened up to girls as well.”

“So, um… are you going to be a knight, then?” Gilbert asked her.

“A knight? Are you kidding? That's a boy-thing. I'm going to be a lady. I'll be studying cooking and home-economics while you're learning to kill fiery beasts that would kidnap and devour your devoted wife!”

“Wife…? I'm not married,” Gilbert insisted.

“No — I meant me, silly! You are such a goof! But that's what I love about you!”

“Love…? Uh… we just... uh… met…”

“What was your name again, my handsome fiancé?”

The elevator operator grabbed Bernice's harness and yanked hard, making sure it was as tight as it needed to be.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “You be careful, sir! I'm a lady, and my husband is a gallant knight and he will have your head if you so much as look at me wrong!”

Gilbert saw the passenger to his left, a robust boy around his age, staring quite openly at Bernice.

“Don't unfasten your seatbelt until we arrive at our destination,” the man droned, as he finally stepped over to Gilbert.

As the conductor reached toward Gilbert's harness, the boy asked, “Could I switch seats? Maybe to the empty one over there, or… maybe with that boy to my left?”

Gilbert tried to gesture to the hefty young man to his left who sat scowling at him, but as he did so, the conductor yanked hard on Gilbert's harness, stunning him momentarily.

“Don't unfasten your seatbelt until we arrive at our destination,” the man murmured, walking back toward the hatch.

“What color do you want the bathroom to be? I was thinking pink,” Bernice told Gilbert.

“I…”

“We could go with a mauve though if that's more your kind of color. And the shower curtains should be striped — maybe purple stripes. Vertical purple stripes on a pink background — but not a light purple, no, it would have to be a deep purple like the kind of purple that kings and queens wear, like a sangria, or a plum, or maybe an eggplant, but not an orchid or lilac — no, those wouldn't work against a pink — they wouldn't have nearly enough contrast, although, if we go with a mauve then we'd have to go with more of a wine-purple or something else really dark, but I could do that for you if you really wanted it.”

“Eggplant… what's...?” Gilbert asked, wondering if he had heard the word correctly, as he nervously scanned the cabin for faulty wiring and broken switches.

“Yes! I was just about to say that! Eggplant would be perfect — I'm so glad you agree! You're going to make a marvelous husband; I just know it! But that's why I love you! You're always so agreeable and yet decisive! That's just the way a man should be — like my father — so things actually get done and yet no one gets their feelings hurt! You know though, it's such a fine line to walk and so difficult for so many people to do, but it's so fantastic that you're just like my dad in that respect because I really admire him more than just about anyone else I know! Of course, he does have some other issues that Mother is working on fixing, but what can I say? Men!”

The hatch closed automatically behind Gilbert and Bernice.

“Um…”

“Oh, it's okay — I know you don't talk much, but my father says I do enough talking for everyone! Speaking of talking — oh! Did you hear what I just said? That is so funny! Speaking of talking! But speaking of talking, what do you think of the name Inveigella for a girl?”

“Inva… girl?”

He began to hyperventilate.

“Yes, silly! For our daughter! I think it's a beautiful name and I fell in love with it as soon as I thought of it but I know that not everyone likes the same things I do after all my mother always says that all people are different even though it would sometimes be nice if they were all the same but the name is so pretty and I just think it would be wonderful to have a daughter named after me in that way because I love to talk and to chat and to discuss and to persuade…”

The female voice returned to the loudspeaker, drowning out the other noises in the cabin.

“Please remain in your seats until we reach our destination.”

“...and argue and assert and sing and vocalize and articulate and…”

“Liftoff will take place in five seconds…”

“...and extrapolate and converse and claim and question and…”

“...four seconds…”

“...and chatter and gossip and prattle and jabber and…”

Gilbert was sure he was about to pass out.

“...three seconds…”

“...and answer and tattle and insist and allege and…”

The boy's face was pale, turning a mild shade of green.

“...two seconds…”

“...and contend and agree and disagree and dispute and…”

Gilbert squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

“...one second…”

“...and insist and apologize and encourage and describe and…”

The room began to quiver as the thrusters ignited and a dull, yet surprisingly quiet roar encompassed the passengers.

“...and…”

The trembling increased, and slowly the ship started to rise.

Gilbert held his breath.

“...and…”

The boy knew that at any moment the rocket ship would certainly explode, killing him and everyone else on board. He knew it would undoubtedly happen, yet he was utterly powerless to prevent it. No one else even seemed to care.

Nevertheless, the rocket ship cleared the top of the station without exploding.

Gilbert could both feel and hear the difference as the thrusters now expelled their fire into open-air instead of spitting flames into the cramped quarters of the center of the building. They were in the air, alive!

Still holding his breath, he barely opened his eyes to the tiniest of slits, daring to hope that perhaps, maybe, they might possibly make it all the way to Siberia without exploding in a fiery death. He moved his eyes upward with trepidation, his gaze settling on the faces of the passengers across from him.

When he saw their eyes, he realized that they knew something that he did not.