Agatha H and the Siege of Mechanicsburg

by Phil Foglio

  Dimo, Maxim, and Ognian stepped forward. Facing them were the Jägergenerals.

  The largest, General Goomblast, gave a slow smile when he saw them. Considering the size of his head and the great mouth that almost bisected it, this procedure took an alarming amount of time.

  General Zog, the oldest, fixed them with a glare that could make even innocent soldiers worry. Since the word “innocent” was one that most Jägers had to have explained to them several times, it was doubly effective.

  The third, General Khrizhan, observed them from the comfort of a folding brass and canvas campaign chair. Compared to the other two, he looked positively welcoming.

  All in all, Dimo considered it a very well done tableau.

  “Com in, my boyz,” General Khrizhan purred. “Iz goot to see hyu!”

  Zog glared even harder. “Und heff hyu forgotten how to salute?”

  The three paused. Ognian looked worried. “Um . . . yez?”

  Maxim leaned over. “No, no. Hy tink dis iz vun ov dose trick qvestions, brodder.”

  Dimo deliberately placed his hand on his hip. “Ve vos detached.”51

  Khrizhan nodded, as if this was a minor detail that had slipped his mind. “Ah, yez, so hyu vos. Und den hyu vent and found us a Heterodyne gurl.”

  At this point Maxim tentatively raised a hand. “Vell, ektually, she kinda found us. Doz dot still count?”

  Khrizhan made a show of considering this, then nodded again. “Yez.”

  Maxim relaxed. It was apparent this question had been bothering him for a while.

  Goomblast clapped his tiny hands together. “Hyu dun goot, boys! Ve iz gun haff a beeg party vit drinks, und fightink, und vimmen in hats, und lotsa fightink! Hoo, yez!” Oggie nudged Maxim in the ribs and the two grinned at each other. This was more like it.

  Dimo waited.

  Zog stared at him and casually scratched his beard. “Oh. Vun leedle ting: dis Agatha gurl. She vouldn’t be de Odder—vould she?”

  Ognian’s jaw dropped. “Vot?”

  Maxim shook his head. “Dot’s krezy!”

  Dimo sighed and rubbed his temples. “Um . . . ” He stood a little taller and hooked a thumb towards the window. “But mebbe hyu dun vant me to giff my report vit dot guy hidink behind de curtain?”

  There was an embarrassed pause, and then the curtain was swept aside, revealing Boris Dolokhov, the Baron’s second-in-command. “How about if I’m not behind the curtain?”

  Khrizhan looked at Dimo appraisingly. “Ho,” he said softly. “Iz hokay, Dimo. But, how did hyu know he vos dere?”

  Dimo shrugged. “Schmelled soap.”

  Boris frowned. “But that could have been anyone . . . ” He glanced at the generals. “Ah. Never mind. Go on.”

  Dimo took a deep breath. “Hokay. De Lady Agatha iz not de Odder. But her mama, de Lady Lucrezia, vos. Iz.” There was a sudden hiss of indrawn breath from General Goomblast. He had the look of someone who was finally connecting things that had been bothering him for some time.

  “In Sturmhalten, she somehow gots shoved inside de Lady Agatha’s head. She is like a . . . a dybbuk, I tink. Sumtimes she iz in control—sumtimes not. De Lady Agatha, she fights her, but de Odder is verra stronk. Now Meez Agatha gots a leedle device dot keeps her mama qviet in her head. It vos built by Master Barry.”

  All of the generals went still at this. Zog licked his lips, but Dimo forestalled his questions. “He vos last seen eleven years ago.52 Hy haff heard nozzink of Master Villiam.

  “Vitout her mama in her head, hy tink de Lady vill be kinda borink, like her papa.53 Bot she iz a Heterodyne, und a pretty stronk vun.”

  Boris and the generals mulled this over. Finally, General Khrizhan leaned forward. “Und how does hyu know all dis?”

  Dimo squirmed slightly. “Der Lady gots dis varrior gurl trainink her. She’s doink a pretty goot job ov it, as far as ve ken tell.” Both Ognian and Maxim nodded in agreement. “Anyvay, dey iz goot friends. At Mamma Gkika’s, dis Mizz Zeetha told all ov dis to hyu Master Gilgamesh.”

  Boris nodded slowly. “So that’s why he went into the Castle.”

  Dimo smirked. “Dot’s vun reason, yez.” He turned back to the generals. “Ennyvay, dot’s all verra hush-hush.”

  Khrizhan’s eyes narrowed. “But how does hyu know—”

  Dimo threw his hands up. “Hy vos listening at de door! Like a great beeg sneaky pants! Hokay?”

  The generals all looked at each other with raised eyebrows. Zog shook his head. “Dimo! Hy iz shocked at dis behavior!”

  Boris shrugged. “Still, it was rather clever of him.”

  Zog nodded, pleased. “Hy said hy vos shocked.”

  Khrizhan looked at Boris shrewdly. “Bot hyu dun look too heppy.”

  “I’m not,” Boris sighed as he used two of his hands to clean his pince-nez. “With this girl installed as the Heterodyne, the Jägers would very likely wind up as tools in the Other’s war of conquest—”

  Goomblast’s hand smacked down on a table so hard that it broke. “Dot vould neffer heppen,” he growled.

  Boris carefully replaced his glasses. “Really. There was certainly a time when the Jägers had no qualms about helping the old Heterodynes lay waste to Europa. So now, if the Other, as the new Heterodyne, were to order you, wouldn’t you be forced to—”

  “No!” Goomblast snarled. “Hyu gots it all wronk! Hyu know vy Jägers hates der Odder’s bogs? Iz becawze dey sqveeze pipple’s minds! Force dem to obey! Ve Jägers iz not compelled to serve. Effry vun uv uz reached out our hands und took de Jägerdraught54 by choice. Und ve got de goot end ov de deal, hyu bet ve did! Ve serve de Heterodynes freely, out ov luff und loyalty, und de Heterodynes haff alvays earned dot, yez dey haff.” He turned and slowly poured himself a glass of wine, then made no move to drink it.

  “But dot Lucrezia, she vos alvays bad krezy, und not in a fun vay. She treated efferyvun like dey vos her servants. Treated de Jägerkin like leedle pets— No, like dey vos property. Ve put op vit her only becawze ve iz patient . . . and becawze Master Bill vos in lurv.”

  He stared moodily into the depths of time and then furiously smashed the untouched wine onto the floor. “But Jägers iz not leedle petz!” he roared. “Hy iz not surprised at all to hear dot krezy lady is de Odder! She alvays vanted to make efferyvun obey her! But the Jägers vill not be forced! Ve vill neffer submit to soch a ting!” He stood panting like a spent warhorse, his hands clenching and opening spasmodically. Khrizhan and Zog came up beside him and each gripped one of his shoulders fiercely.

  Khrizhan turned to Boris and spoke quietly. “Und now she tinks she vill tek control ov our Heterodyne? Ov a leedle gurl who has not yet had de chance to find out vhat kind ov Heterodyne she vill be? No!” He shook his head. “Dot iz too much!”

  Zog roared in agreement. “Ho! But our Heterodyne fights! She fights for her life! It iz a battle worth fightink! As goot as de old days! Ve vill support her, and keep her safe, until she kin get her krezy mama out ov her head!” He paused. The energy seemed to drain from him and he slumped, rubbing his shaggy brow.

  “A lovely Heterodyne story, I’m sure,” Boris said icily, “but how will she do that?”

  The three generals looked at each other. Finally, Goomblast shrugged. “How should ve know? She iz de Heterodyne, und she looks like a stronk vun too.” He nodded. “She vill vork it out somehow, dey alvays do.”

  Before Boris could make a retort, Ognian gave him what he no doubt considered a friendly punch to the arm. “Or mebbe,” he said with an impudent grin, “dot young Wulfenbach vill find a vay, hey? He iz vun schmot guy! Und he iz already in lurv vit her, jah?”

  Boris ignored the pain in his arm and waved his hands (which made for an impressive display when he really got going), “What? No! We can’t let them get together! It would be the same as handing the empire to the Other without a fight!”

  Khrizhan gave a derisive snort that a hippopotamus would have envied. “Eediot,” he said witheringly. “Dey iz alrea
dy togedder in de Castle, vhere ve couldn’t touch dem effen if ve vanted to, vich ve don’t, becawze dot iz der best ting dot could haff heppened!”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Becawze hy knows pipple!55 Tink! De Lady Agatha and hyu Prince Wulfenbach, dey iz young! Dey iz in lurv! Dey iz gun get de Kestle fixed up and den dere dey iz, nize und safe.

  “Dey vill start vit der talkink, und der Kestle vill make sure dat der iz vine, und a beeg cozy fire, und sudden death to ennyvun who tries to disturb dem.” All of the other Jägers gave a wistful sigh at the romantic picture Khrizhan’s words painted.

  He continued in a low, confidential voice that had all the others leaning in with rapt attention, “Den dey starts vit der keessing—”

  He smacked his great hand down onto a table top, causing the others to jump. “—und den dey realize dot her mama gun be right der, vatchink efferyting de whole time!” He paused to let this sink in, then chuckled knowingly. “Dey vill haff de Odder out ov dere in less den a veek!”

  Boris stared at him and his eye twitched slightly. “And that’s your answer. You’re going to risk everything to follow a new Heterodyne on the off chance that this—this young woman can defeat the Other. Just like that.”

  Khrizhan nodded, all bluster gone. “Hy tink she gots a goot chance. De Heterodynes haff faced lots ov bad tings und dey haz alvays come out pretty moch hokay.”

  Boris, who was not particularly concerned about the fate of the Heterodynes, preoccupied as he was by worrying about the fate of everything else, gave a small sigh. “I see.” He straightened up and spackled a look of pleasant affirmation over his face. “Well, this has been most informative.” Boris deftly fished several pocket watches out of several watch pockets and made a show of studying each of them in turn. “But now, I must return to my duties.” His hands swirled and returned the watches to their various pockets. “If you would please advise your new mistress: the threat that the Other presents, not only to her, but to all of Europa, is very grave. The Baron has studied the Other. She can and must come to him peacefully for assistance.” He turned to go, but paused at the doorway. “I wish I could believe she will do so, but sparks can be . . . well . . . ” All of the Jägers in the room nodded in understanding. “Good day, gentlemen, and good luck.” And he was gone.

  Ognian tapped a fang. “Dot . . . dot did not go verra well. Did it?”

  Dimo sighed. “No, brodder, it did not.” He grabbed a bottle of wine and had it halfway to his mouth before he realized where he was. He paused and looked guiltily at General Zog, who swiped the bottle from his hand, took a deep swallow, and handed it back to him.

  Khrizhan had been staring at the door. He turned back. “Hyu gots dot right,” he rumbled. “Meester Boris must know dot ve know that he knows dot de Lady cannot go to de Baron.”

  Goomblast deftly shortstopped the wine as it was being passed to Maxim and emptied the last of it into his great maw. When he was done, he selected a fresh, wicker-wrapped carboy of fortified wine, bit the top off, and graciously offered it to Maxim. “Yez,” he said judiciously. “Even if Meez Agatha destroys de Odder inside her head, she vill neffer be able to prove dis to de Baron’s satisfaction. No! he vill vant her locked op! Studied! Und, effentually, destroyed. He vill not take de risk.”

  General Khrizhan cleared his throat. “Hy must concur.” He bowed formally to Zog. “Dis iz your time now.”

  Zog gravely returned the bow. “Dis hy accept.”56 He straightened and faced the others. “De House ov Heterodyne must now prepare for var!”

  Within the Castle, Agatha only had time to scream, “Hold on!” before a torrent of water descended.

  Both Gil and Tarvek responded instantly, shouting, “I’ve got you, Agatha!” as the deluge hit. When the water subsided, Agatha realized she was actually being held tightly by Violetta.

  “Is the fire out?” the Castle asked.

  Gil and Tarvek opened their eyes to see that each of them was desperately clutching, not Agatha, but a thick metallic tentacle. A huge mechanical squid had been washed in along with water from the cistern and now lay, inert and dripping, in a puddle of receding water.

  Although the squid was old, it turned out to still be functional, and indeed, quite useful. It had been designed to be operated by two drivers, so Gil and Tarvek found themselves wedged together in the cockpit, each trying to master the controls before the other. Agatha, one sturdy tentacle wrapped around her waist, was being hoisted here and there towards hard-to-reach parts of the Castle with the rest of the tentacles handing her tools as needed. Tarvek, at least, could not let well enough alone.

  “Why are there mechanical squid in the water cistern?”

  The Castle sighed. “Why is everyone so surprised about that? Where else would we keep them?”

  “Well,” Tarvek conceded, “I suppose when you put it like that . . .” Agatha signaled, and he pushed a lever, swinging her slightly to the left. “At this rate, we might actually get this section repaired before nightfall.”

  He was answered by silence and Tarvek realized he was doing all of the work in this supposed conversation. He turned to Gil, who was sitting hunched forward, an intense look on his face. He saw Tarvek staring at him. “I’ve been thinking,” he began.

  Tarvek confined his response to a simple, “Really.”

  Gil ignored the tone and continued. “Yes, when we get the Castle fixed, then what? We’re counting on it still being functional enough to defend the town. Maybe even the pass. But even if we can, my father still thinks Agatha’s the Other.” He glanced at Tarvek. “And he isn’t entirely wrong. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to convince him that she isn’t a threat. We’re going to be under siege. Probably for the rest of our lives.”

  Tarvek ground his teeth together. “I can’t believe this,” he snarled. “I’m actually going to have to explain things to you, just to shut off your endless moaning.” He glared at Gil. “Just listening to you is killing me already.”

  “You don’t think this is serious? We’ve never even found a cure for traditional revenants, and this new type is much worse. You have no idea—”

  Tarvek cut him off. “As a matter of fact I do have an idea. I have several, because I’ve been thinking about this for years.”

  Gil blinked. “Years?”

  Tarvek paused and then took a deep breath. “My father. He worked with Lucrezia Mongfish before she became the Other. Before she was married to Bill Heterodyne. She was tinkering with something like the slaver wasps even back then. Those we call the ‘classic revenant’—the ones created by the wasps, the shambling monsters—they were a mistake. An ‘unfortunate statistical extreme,’ according to her notes.

  “She later recognized they were actually very useful. When the slaver wasps were deployed in an actual human population, the appearance of the shamblers obfuscated the fact there was a larger population that was just as infected, just as controllable, but without any obvious signs. Nobody noticed they were infected because nobody ever actually tried to control them. It was just thought that most people attacked by wasps got off without suffering any ill-effects.”

  Gil stared at him. “My father just discovered this when we took Balan’s Gap. You’re saying you knew this was happening years ago?” His released the controls and gripped the front of Tarvek’s coat, yanking him forward until their noses nearly touched. Tarvek met the fury on Gil’s face with a silent glare. “You.” Gil continued: “Your family. Your Knights of Jove. Your stupid ‘Storm King’ plotting. You were working with the Mongfishes—with Lucrezia—and you knew she was the Other? Knew about slaver wasps? No wonder Sturmhalten was crawling with revenants! I thought at least you would stop at that. But here you are, practically her successor! Is that how you planned to ‘reclaim the throne’? By enslaving everyone?” He gave Tarvek a vicious shake.

  Above them, Agatha cleared her throat. Startled, they looked up to see her hanging by her ankles from the unresponsive squid tentacles. The look on
her face was one of remarkable patience considering how much effort she was putting into keeping her tools from falling out of her belt and pockets. “Could you two put off killing each other long enough to mind the controls?” she asked sweetly.

  Gil looked guilty. He was still clutching the front of Tarvek’s coat.

  “Oh. But—well—” Gil began.

  “Help,” Agatha commanded.

  “Right.” Gil released Tarvek.

  “Sorry.” Why am I apologizing? Tarvek wondered. I’m the one about to get throttled. He industriously bent over his side of the control panel, and Gil did the same, guiding Agatha back up to spot where a stone gargoyle had been moved aside to expose a nest of wiring.

  They worked in silence for a few minutes. Gil was tense and clearly furious. Finally, he could stand it no longer. “I’ll see to it that you’re publicly flogged for a week before your execution,” he growled.

  What would Agatha think of you then, eh? Tarvek wondered silently. Still, he had a nagging worry that if all she heard was Gil’s point of view, she might actually get over it. It was so unfair. “That,” he said aloud, “is just what I’d expect from a despot’s spoiled brat. Already planning my torture and execution? Who needs a trial?”

  Gil glowered and Tarvek continued: “After all, it doesn’t matter it was my father and his friends who did all that. I was, what, three years old at the time? Obviously, I have some culpability.” He could see Gil relax and begin to look thoughtful. Keep talking. “Imagine being raised in that snake pit. My father, in thrall to the memory of a lunatic who had her own fanatical order of warrior priestesses living in our actual basement enforcing her vaguest dictates.

  “Do you know why female sparks have been statistically underrepresented in our generation? Because the Geisterdamen collected all of the ones they could find, hoping one of them was their lost Holy Child—that’s Agatha, by the way—and they were very good at finding them. Once found, they brought them to my father. One-by-one he strapped them into a machine and tried to infuse them with the mind of Lucrezia. Since they weren’t Agatha, they died. Every single one of them.”