Chapter 8

 

Johnny and Nina spent the afternoon wandering around Dame Honoria’s estate and the surrounding countryside. One of the colonel’s ghost troopers stood guard as Johnny took pictures for a photo essay on country life in Gilbeyshire. Wearing her etheric goggles, Nina was quite the center of attention when they visited the nearby village of Blackfield. A few of the merchants in the town wondered where they might buy a pair of the odd spectacles, as they would love to see their dead wife or grandfather. Even the ghosts were fascinated, especially those of a scientific bent.

Johnny enjoyed the visit to Blackfield, but had one troubling moment when they emerged from a teashop. Across the street in front of a grocery store, a little man was walking along. And to Johnny, he looked an awful lot like someone he had met back in Zenith a couple months ago.

Johnny had little doubt that it was Ozzie Eccleston, Dame Honoria’s old ghost servant, now ensconced in a Rotonesian zombie body. At the end of last year it had been Ozzie who had delivered the etheric bomb ultimatum to the city of Zenith. In addition, he had sponged a couple of lunches off Johnny. He was a real bum, that guy.

Nina started to talk to Johnny, but he shushed her. “Look over there, Sparks. It’s Ozzie Eccleston, probably come to spy on us.”

A grin slowly spread across Nina’s face. “So why don’t we turn the tables and go do a little spying on him?”

They didn’t have to go very far to do their surveillance, because Ozzie had nipped into the town’s pub, The Laughing Fox. Johnny peeked through the open door for a few seconds, then slipped back out onto the sidewalk.

“He’s already bellied up to the bar and he’s slurping on a pint of beer,” Johnny whispered to Nina. “It looks like a couple people in there have picked up on his weird, musty smell. They were moving away from him. We’d better give Dame Honoria the bad news.”

Back in the library at Wickenham half an hour later, they did just that.

Dame Honoria shot them a wily smile. “Thank you for this bit of intelligence. You needn’t worry about Ozzie. I shall take it from here. I aim to have a little fun with my former employee.”

 

* * *

 

Mel and Dame Honoria had already started going through Percy’s archive of books and papers, all from the boxes that he had left in his chambers and in the attic. Assisting them was Percy’s old tutor, Athelstan DeNimes, now a retired professor.

“Athelstan has offered to look into the matter of the bog zombies,” Dame Honoria explained.

The professor nodded. “We need to understand how Percy has been able to reanimate such ancient corpses. Normally, unless they’re properly cared for, these bog bodies quickly dry up and shrink when they’re exposed to air. And the bones are very fragile, having been decalcified.”

“What does that mean, ‘decalcified’?” Nina asked.

“It means the calcium has leached out of them, leaving them very porous. Percy has managed something remarkable, giving those ancient bodies enough strength and substance to function as warriors. My theory is that the ghost possession of these corpses somehow imbues them with vigor and power.”

The old teacher was small and wiry, with white hair. He wore an old-fashioned gray suit and an overly large pair of horn-rimmed spectacles. The thick lenses magnified his watery blue eyes and made him look like some kind of strange tropical fish.

“Percy had quite a curious mind, you know,” Professor DeNimes told Johnny and Nina. “I recall his interest in the bog men years ago. He followed the news avidly whenever they dug one up. I think he liked to imagine what it might have been like to live in the ancient past.”

Nina looked puzzled. “Why would anyone want to go back in time? They didn’t have any of the modern conveniences back then. I sure wouldn’t want to give up my ham radio set.”

“Well, you know, quite a few scholars would time-travel, if they could,” the professor said. Then he lowered his voice so Dame Honoria couldn’t hear him. “Percy just never seemed quite that comfortable living in the present. I do wonder if I could have been a better mentor for him.”

Johnny found the professor’s insights into Percy very revealing. He wondered if the teachers back at Grover Falkland Junior High had given that much thought to Johnny’s behavior, and to his decision to test out of school early. Maybe one of them felt like a failure for not persuading him to stay until he graduated at the usual age.

The phone on Dame Honoria’s desk jangled loudly. She picked it up, said hello, and listened. Whoever it was did all the talking.

Meanwhile the professor continued his observations about her son. “The key to Percy’s actions, I believe, lies in his overweening sense of righteousness.”

“Overweening?” Johnny repeated.

“It means overbearing and arrogant, my young friend. His truths are greater than any others. His causes are the worthiest of all. He is justified in doing anything to achieve the ends he desires.”

“Was he like that when he was a kid?”

“Oh, yes. Absolutely. He was prickly and difficult to teach. He had few real friends. You had the feeling that he loved humanity, but couldn’t stand people. As you know, his father died at a young age. His mother was off most of the time, fighting for her cause.”

“The vote for women.”

“Got it in one.”

“I can’t believe women couldn’t vote when Dame Honoria was younger,” Nina piped up. “In just nine years, I’ll be able to vote, and no one better try to stop me!”

At that moment Dame Honoria said goodbye to her caller, and looked up at everyone, wearing a huge smile.

“You seem unusually happy, Honoria,” the professor said.

She beamed at him. “Very perceptive, Athelstan. I have a little surprise for everyone. Tomorrow we’re going on a picnic. And then we’re visiting an old friend of mine.”

A picnic? Johnny thought. It was hardly the time of year to be eating outdoors. And weren’t there more important matters to attend to—like fighting zombies?

But Dame Honoria was their hostess. She called the shots.