by Kaja Foglio
Vole tried again and suddenly found himself seized by Gil, who effortlessly held him up above his head. “Well, you know what?” the young man asked conversationally, “I can do crazy. I really can. And it looks like I’m going to have to.”
With that, he slammed Vole to the ground. “Agatha is in danger.” Another slam. “This whole town is in danger.” Another. “If I’m going to be able to help her at all, I’ll have to give up all this ‘being reasonable’ garbage—” Another slam, and this time he somersaulted up and came down hard on the Jäger’s head with both feet. “And show you idiots what kind of madboy you’re really dealing with!”
Vole thrashed slightly and Gil kicked him in the face. A sudden realization made him pause. His eyes got wide for a long moment. “Oh. No. Oh no!” He again addressed the air with the attitude of someone experiencing a terrible epiphany. “This…this must be how my father feels all the time!”
He thought about this for another moment and sighed. Then he glanced down. He pulled Vole’s head up so that he could glare directly into the now-terrified eyes. “So. Are you going to follow orders? Or are you going to keep attacking me until I have to kill you—at which point I’ll just have to use one of these Jägers instead?” So saying, he hooked a thumb towards the astonished group that had watched him dispatch Vole.
This attention shook Ognian out of his stupefaction and he raised a point of order. “Ectually, ve dun take orders from hyu.”
Instantly three fists smashed into his jaw, sending him to the ground.
“What was that?” Gil asked.
“Notting!” Four voices answered as one. “Ve’s goot!”
Gil turned back to Vole. “So?”
“No!” The cowed Jäger bleated. “I’z sorry, sir! Vot iz hyu orders, sir!”
Gil nodded. “I am going with these Jägers. Tell no one except my father that you have seen me. I have much to do, so I shall be busy. Right now, I want you to find the body of whoever was in charge of those war clanks. The sooner you get his head to my father or Dr. Sun, the easier it will be to get coherent memories. Do you understand?”
“SIR! YES, SIR!”
“Then go.” And pausing only to grab his hat, Vole loped off towards the burning machines.
The group watched him go in silence. Finally Dimo nodded respectfully. “Not bad.”
Gil shrugged. “My father once wrote a monograph on how to communicate in the workplace.”34
“…Iz dot so?”
Gil nodded. “All seven popes ordered it burned.”35
Dimo snorted. “Vell, Hy guess hyu iz feelin’ better.”
Gil stared off at the burning machines. “Is he gone?” His voice was a whisper.
Dimo blinked. “Vot?”
“Vole. Is he gone?”
“Yah. Uv cawrze. He run off…”
“Good.” And with the gentlest of sighs, Gilgamesh Wulfenbach collapsed face forward, completely unconscious.
The Jägers stared down at him. Ognian rubbed his jaw and grinned. “Hy likes dis guy!” He leaned down and swung Gil up over his shoulder with one hand. “He’s fonny! Let’s get him fixed op qvick, yah?”
Jenka winked. “Hif only becawze hyu Mizz Agatha likes him!”
All the Jägers perked up at this. “Iz dot so?”
Jenka nodded. “Accordink to de Generals.”
Dimo grinned. “And he likes her too! Dot’s mighty goot to hear.” He glanced at Gil, “He seems like a sturdy vun. And vit Mizz Agatha, hy tink dot’s gunna be impawtent.”
Maxim set his hat at a jaunty angle. “Hy vill teach heem how to impress de gorls!”
Ognian gave Gil a pat. “Hy vill teach heem about de birds and de veasles!”36
Dimo assured Jenka, “Und hy vill teach heem how to avoid dose two.”
She nodded. “Den ve might ektually see more Heterodynes yet.”
The current Heterodyne was kneeling on Moloch von Zinzer’s chest, her gloved hand frantically clamped over his screaming mouth. “Quiet,” she hissed. “Quiet! I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you act stupid!”
Moloch’s scream dwindled to nothing. Agatha wasn’t sure if this was because he was listening, or because she was blocking his air intake. “Now I’m going to take my hand away. I’m giving you one chance. Don’t make me regret it!”
She gingerly removed her glove and Moloch took a deep breath. Then he spoke—very fast. “I really must apologize for threatening you back on the airship. I was really scared and under a lot of stress and—”
Agatha gently placed her hand back over his mouth, cutting off his stream of words. “Keep quiet,” she said gently, “and we’ll call it even.” Moloch looked surprised. “Really? You’re not going to kill me?”
“Not unless I have to.”
“I can work with that.”
They rolled apart and climbed to their feet. Moloch examined her. Agatha had changed since their time on Castle Wulfenbach. When he had first met her, she had obviously been a soft townie. From what he could see, she was now in much better shape. But more importantly, mentally, Agatha had seemed to be in a vague, pleasant fog a lot of the time, occasionally snapping into a terrifying sharp focus. Now… she seemed even more focused. A lot more focused. Looking at her now…she was obviously watching him, but her eyes—her eyes were moving. Constantly. In quick little snaps. Every other snap brought them back to Moloch, but she was looking at everything.
Moloch had always had a good “survival sense.” He knew when it was time to retreat. When to avoid the gaze of a sergeant looking for “volunteers.” This sense had only been sharpened here in Castle Heterodyne, where a misstep could cause him to be killed in any number of unexpected ways.
That sense was screaming at him now. Screaming in the same way as when he had found himself hauled up before Baron Klaus Wulfenbach himself and discovered that the Ruler of all Europa had made a mistake. About him.
The Baron had thought Moloch a Spark because of a machine that Agatha had built. He had never really understood why they had all automatically assumed it was him and not Agatha but he was not going to be the one to tell the Baron that he’d made a stupid mistake. So he’d tried to fool the smartest man in Europa.
There was a certain perverse pride to be felt because he had managed to do it for longer than two minutes, but at the three-minute mark, the fear of discovery had begun to erode the satisfaction, and by the time the whole thing had come crashing down several days later, he had almost been relieved that it was all over.
There were some who had argued that his sentence to Castle Heterodyne had been a bit harsh, considering that it was usually reserved for deranged Spark criminals, excessively loyal minions, constructs, and such.
However, it was also the traditional punishment for those who had impersonated Sparks, and thus, here he had been sent.
Moloch had no illusions about some hypothetical degree of “fairness” about life in general and his in particular. He just did what he always did—the best he could with the crap he had, and, occasionally, life handed him little unexpected victories. He wondered if this was supposed to be one of them. Schadenfreude did not come naturally to Moloch. He had to admit that although she had been the root cause of his current set of problems, Agatha had never actually betrayed him, done him direct harm, or treated him as anything other than a comrade in misfortune.
Thus he discovered that he could actually work up a measure of sympathy for her under the current circumstances.
“So, the Baron finally caught you, eh? Took longer than I thought it would,” he admitted.
Agatha shrugged. “He didn’t catch me and he isn’t going to. I came in here on my own.”
Sympathy went out the window. “That’s insane!” He considered what he had said. “Oh. Right. You’re supposed to be a real Heterodyne, aren’t you?”
She smiled. “That’s what I’m told.”
He thought about this some more. “Wait a minute. That means you’re like… you’re like t
he Queen here or something.”
Agatha nodded. “Or something.”
“So get us out of here!”
She sighed. “I’m working on it.” She looked around. “This is the kitchen? It’s smaller than I’d have expected.”
It was small for a castle this size. Even so, one wall boasted an enormous fireplace in which three entire cattle could have been spit-roasted end-to-end. There were huge griddles and ovens along another wall, clearly designed by someone with the Spark. Pipes and ductwork wound up and into the walls, steam vents with oddly constructed valves clacked open and shut, and a large cast-iron cauldron slowly bubbled over what looked like an industrial grade Bunsen burner.
Makeshift shelves held stacks of cheap china and tin plates and cups. Others held heaps of supplies, bottles of spices and sauces, and sacks of beans, flour, lentils, raisins, noodles, and rice. Large cast-iron pots and pans hung from the beamed ceiling, along with ropes of sausages, at least twenty large smoked hams, and bunches of onions, garlic, peppers, and other dried herbs.
Another rack of shelves held easily four dozen slightly burned loaves of bread.
An enormous zinc tub in the corner, positioned under a dripping pump, was filled with oily-looking water and a towering stack of dirty dishes.
Overall, it was obvious that home economics was not Moloch’s strong suit. He sighed.
“Oh, this isn’t the Master Kitchen. I don’t think we’ve even found that yet. This place was built for Venthraxus Heterodyne’s favorite cook.”37
Agatha looked at him askance. “How do you know that?”
Moloch sighed. “It told me.”
Agatha looked around. “Ah! The kitchen itself? I was told that it talks.”
“WELCOME FOOLISH CREATURE! I AM YOUR DOOM!” The shout seemed to come from everywhere at once. Agatha jumped and stared around her, then up at the beams of the ceiling. The sausages, pots, and all other hanging goods rocked back and forth gently at the vibration.
“Oh yeah,” Moloch confirmed wearily. “It talks.”
The voice was similar to the one that Agatha had heard in the crypt. The difference—this voice was deeper, more unearthly—she attributed to the fact that it wasn’t being channeled through human vocal cords. In fact, try as she might, she couldn’t see any speaker grill or even a vibrating membrane. The voice just seemed to emanate from the corners of the room.
“That’s pretty creepy,” she observed.
Moloch groaned and stepped away from her. “No! Shut up! Now it’s got to show you how creepy it can get.”
Before she could ask for an explanation, a knife on one of the cutting boards suddenly quivered and stood up upon the point of its blade. It stood there for a moment and then with a spin, launched itself at Agatha. Hours of training with Zeetha paid off and she stepped to the side. But instead of burying itself in the wall, the knife spun about. Dozens more utensils took to the air and began swirling about her, like a glittering flock of birds. “How is it doing this?” Agatha cried. She snatched up a large cutting board. Instantly two knives buried themselves in it. Suddenly Agatha realized that none of the knives had actually touched her.
Though Moloch had stepped off to one side, he was being menaced by a dangerous-looking eggbeater which he batted at with a pot lid. “How the hell should I know,” he snapped. “It’s supposed to be your damn castle, isn’t it?”
His words struck home. Agatha straightened up, flung the cutting board aside, and demanded, “Knock it off!”
The utensils froze in midair. “Your voice…” The castle sounded uneasy. “Who are you?”
Agatha addressed the air. “I am Agatha Heterodyne! Daughter of Bill Heterodyne and Lucrezia Mongfish, and I am your new master.”
All of the utensils crashed to the floor. “Oh, really?” The castle began to chuckle evilly. “Another brave claimant! And a girl this time. How odd.”
“Stop it!” Agatha snapped. “You know me. I talked to you in the crypt.”
When the voice again spoke, it was more serious. “I do not know you, silly girl, I lost access to the crypt years ago.”
Agatha felt a touch of apprehension. “You don’t recognize me?”
“Oh, it’s no matter. You have made your claim. Now you must prove it.”
“Well, that’s what I’m here to do.”
A knife sped through the air and deftly sliced Agatha’s arm. She screamed in shock and pain. “What are you doing?”
“Blood!” the castle declared. Another knife tore at her leg. “The truth is in your blood!”
“Stop!” Moloch shouted, “You’ll collapse my soufflé!”
The knives fell to the ground. “Oh.” The castle declared. “Sorry—wait…”
But Moloch had already grabbed Agatha by the arm and dragged her out of the room. They halted, gasping outside the doorway.
Agatha turned to him. “Collapse my soufflé?”
Moloch shrugged. “It’s a kitchen.”
“I AM NOT A KITCHEN!” The voice roared from inside the room. “I AM CASTLE HETERODYNE!” And a fusillade of sharp utensils burst from the room, smacking into the opposite wall before spinning and clattering harmlessly to the floor.
The two of them stared at the mound of cutlery. Moloch glared at Agatha. “I thought you said you were a real Heterodyne!”
“I am!”
“Then why isn’t the Castle listening to you?”
Agatha cocked her head to one side and considered this. “I don’t know. Interesting, isn’t it?”
He stared at her. “Interesting! It tried to kill you! I’ve never seen it do that!”
Agatha winced as she rubbed the cut on her arm. “Kill me? No—I don’t think so. It could have just put a knife in my eye.” She checked the cut on her leg. “These are fairly superficial.” Indeed, both of them had already stopped bleeding.
She turned to Moloch. “And I did speak to the Castle in the crypts.” She paused. “The voice in the kitchen—that must be one of the secondary systems it mentioned. I should have realized that its memories would be fractured as well. I’m going to have to…introduce myself to each one. And convince them, too, I suppose.”
Moloch glanced back at the kitchen doorway. A cleaver shot out and imbedded itself in the opposite wall. “Yeah, that’ll work.”
Agatha considered this. “So this is the only ‘live room’ in this area?”
Moloch nodded. “Yeah. That’s why we stay here to eat and sleep.”
“I’ve seen artificial intelligences before back at the University. Unless it’s something very limited, like a clank, they tend to take up a lot of space. If this one is confined to one room, I’m betting it’s not very…sophisticated. I think that once I find systems that operate over larger areas, it’ll be a bit more reasonable.”
Moloch eyed her. “Reasonable, it’s not. It’s broken.”
Agatha smiled. “Well, that’s why I’m here. Once it’s repaired, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Moloch scratched at his beard. “Yeah, but how are we gonna do that? They’ve been trying for how many years? We don’t even have—” He stopped short. “Wait—did I say ‘we’?” He stared at Agatha in horror. “No way. What am I saying?”
He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. “You listen to me. I am not your minion!38 Forget it! No, no, no, no, no!”
Agatha waved a hand. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Most of the people in here are either Sparks, or the loyal minions of Sparks who were too stupid to stop fighting for the losing side when the Baron arrived. I’ve seen where that gets you. I am nobody’s happy little helper, you got that?”
Agatha nodded solemnly. “I got it.”
Moloch crossed his arms. “Good.”
Agatha sighed. “So I should get started. Where can I find some tools?”
Moloch indicated a set of bins against a wall. Agatha discovered they contained a wide assortment of worn but serviceable tools as well a
s a rack of tool belts and cases. She spent several minutes selecting and loading a sturdy toolbox. Finally satisfied, she grasped the handles and discovered that it now weighed easily fifty kilograms.
Moloch snorted and pushed her aside. With a few deft moves, he weeded out two-thirds of the items, selected several different ones, and slung the box’s strap over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Agatha nodded and off they went.
Several minutes later, they were striding down a long corridor lined with dials of widely varying sizes. Agatha was able to identify numerous pieces of meteorological equipment along with pressure gauges and counters that seemed to record various aspects of the castle, its inhabitants, things that were taking place in the town below, the flow and movement of the river, the clouds above, and things that moved unseen beneath the earth. There were clocks that kept different units of time, measured the rate at which the local crops grew, the speed of various planets, and disturbingly, one that clicked back a notch every time she breathed.
She gazed at it all in wonder and felt a growing excitement. Who knew what wonders were here, waiting in this castle? What things of mystery and magic had lain here, unseen for years, just waiting for her to arrive and claim them?
Her foot caught and she stumbled, but Moloch caught her and steadied her. “Snap out of it,” he said. “You can gawk or you can walk, but don’t gawk and walk at the same time. It’ll get you killed.”
Agatha nodded. “You’re right. What else should I know?”
He scowled. “I don’t know where to start. Usually you’d report to Professor Tiktoffen, and then you’d—well, I guess you’d work with me in the kitchen, and I’d bring you up to speed over time.”
Agatha shook her head. “Forget that. It’s better if I don’t talk to anyone before I head deeper into the Castle.”
“Yeah, I’m guessing that other Heterodyne girl isn’t your sister or something?”
Agatha snorted. “Only if sisters try to kill each other.”
Moloch barked out a laugh. It was the first time Agatha had heard him do that. “You’re an only child, aren’t you?” Agatha looked at him blankly. He continued, “Fine. So you running into her would be bad.”
