The Chamber in the Sky by M. T. Anderson

strode across broken towers toward the Empress Elspeth and her Court.
    The Empress of the Innards was sitting in a folding metal chair under a tarpaulin held up by planks. Her maids-in-waiting were painting coats of arms on the tarp with poster paints. The Imperial Council and members of the Court sat around her on blankets and towels. There was Lord Attleborough-Stoughton, a captain ofindustry with a top hat and a ferocious mustache, sitting cross-legged on a traveling rug. There was the Earl of Munderplast, the Prime Minister, a gloomy old man dressed in medieval robes and a velvet cap, crouched uncomfortably on a beach towel. The Duke and Duchess Gwarnmore, Gwynyfer’s parents, lay back on a fine cotton sheet smudged with ash. The two of them were dressed for a picnic: she in a white summer dress, he in striped white trousers. A page boy stepped between the blankets, offering cucumber sandwiches.
    General Malark, the troll, and the two engineers climbed down from the clanksiege on rungs riveted onto the left leg. They approached the Imperial Presence.
    The General bowed. “General Malark of the Mannequin Army greets Her Sublime Highness, the Empress of Old Norumbega, New Norumbega, and the Whole Dominion of the Innards, Electoress of the Bladders, Queen of the Gastric Wastes, Sovereign of Ducts Superior and Inferior, Ruler of All. I come with a report.”
    The Empress Elspeth did not reply. She was a sly-looking woman with long, gray curls bound up in complications on her head. She wore regal robes and held a scepter. She stared at them all. The girls in their garlands painted sloppy shields on the tent behind her.
    General Malark said, “We’ve been reconnoitering, Your Highness.”
    She didn’t respond. She simply watched him.
    He said, “We’ve been looking at the city, ma’am. We’re coming up with a strategy to hold off the Thusser. Bigquestion: how long it will take the Thusser to put together a submarine naval force that can navigate the flux.”
    The Empress of the Innards did not say anything.
    The General continued, “Ma’am, it’s clear: The best thing to do is to concentrate the city’s population. Gather them all on this hill, probably, and then fortify the jenkins out of the place. We don’t have time to surround the whole city with a wall.”
    The Empress said nothing. The girls behind her whispered softly while they painted.
    One of the councilors on the ground asked suspiciously, “General, who told you there isn’t a wall already ? A large, beautiful wall of gold and chalcedony? How do you know that?”
    General Malark explained to the Empress, “If I am going to defend the city, ma’am, I will need to know whether there is a wall or not.”
    Lord Attleborough-Stoughton, frowning under his top hat, said, “Look here, Malark. Those railroads out there are my piece of earth. I can tell you they’re important. I want them protected.”
    Gwynyfer’s father, Duke Gwarnmore, complained, “Quite true, Malark. What we really want is for you to defend the whole city. Not just part of it.”
    General Malark winced. “There’s no time, sir.”
    â€œWell, that seems awfully moldy for the people who’ll lose their homes.”
    â€œWe cannot fortify the entirety of New Norumbega before the Thusser arrive.”
    â€œBut, I say, Malark,” Duke Gwarnmore protested, “you can’t just chuck half the city!”
    â€œIt’ll be more like three-fourths,” said General Malark. And to the Empress, he said, “I am sorry, ma’am.”
    One of the maids-in-waiting stopped painting and said, “Your Highness, my colors are getting muddy. I think the awful Clarice is dabbing her green in the red pot.”
    â€œAm not,” muttered Clarice. “Stinko to you, Brendolyn.”
    The Empress did not respond. Her face was taut and furious.
    Duke Gwarnmore drew