by Phil Foglio
“Agatha,” Tarvek yelled, “When we’re low enough, jump!”
“Oh no you won’t,” Zola snarled as she fumbled in her hair. She came up with one of her trilobite brooches, the pin of the clasp extended. With a viper-like jab, she sank the point into Agatha’s breast. “You’ll let go—now!” Agatha gasped in shock. Her hands slipped free. Tarvek watched in horror as she plummeted—
—About a meter and a half, before she slammed into a tabletop, which collapsed under her.
Zola rolled her eyes. “Oh, for pity’s sake,” she howled. “That probably didn’t kill her at all! At least it will slow her down long enough for the coup de grâce after I take care of—”
Tarvek’s fist shattered her nose. He kept slugging rhythmically at the same spot. As he hammered away, he notice he was ranting in a low, monotonous voice that felt really satisfying when he used his fists as punctuation. “You vicious. Poisonous. Remnant of my stupid. Family’s stupid. Plan! Your interference. With your stupid. Schemes and your stupid. Backstabbing. Plots. I have lost my castle! My Muses! My sister! My town! My hand is revealed. To those blasted. Upstart. Wulfenbachs! You and Lucrezia. Have done nothing. But destroy. My life. And interfere. With my plans. And now. You’re trying to destroy. The one bright. Spot. Left? That. I will. Not. Permit!” He took in a deep breath and realized Zola had stopped moving quite some time before. He focused and saw she was covered with blood and bruises.
Her lips moved. “All right,” she whispered, “I give up.”
Tarvek stared at her in amazement, then shook his head. “Oooh, nonono, nooo—you do not give up—” He tightened his hands on Zola’s throat. “You DIE!”
“Help,” Zola whispered. Tarvek gripped tighter. Without warning, he was tumbling across the floor, tackled by an enemy he couldn’t see clearly. Did Zola have an ally nearby? Then he realized it was Gil. Gil with his stupid stupid soft spot for Zola. They landed hard against a map case. A globe of the moon toppled to the floor and bounced into the shadows. Tarvek thrashed frantically, trying to get his feet under him as Gil continued to hold him down.
Released, Zola was slowly sitting up, moving like a sleeping ghost. Her face was bloody and blank. Soon she was standing. Then, all at once, her toes cleared the floor and she was rising upwards towards the opening in the dome, gathering speed. The coat left little trails of vapor and dust in her wake that reflected an eerie light. The effect was ghastly and Zola, as a devotee of the Paris Opera, would have been delighted.
Tarvek and Gil stopped struggling and stared up at her in astonishment. “Stop her,” Tarvek screamed in frustration. But was too late. She soared upwards through the great dome and sailed, still unconscious, into the sky.
“You idiot!” Tarvek flung Gil aside, pulled a small pistol from his waistcoat, and fired up after her. Gil grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, I’m sorry,” Tarvek shouted, “but it’s the biggest gun I could find!”
The Castle roared. “That’s better! Gentlemen, allow me!” The entire room shook once, then every metal object in sight spiraled upwards, fountaining up through the hole in the dome.
“Yes!” Tarvek shouted.
“NO!” Gil countered, “I want her alive!”
Tarvek stared at him. “WHY?”
“Well, for one thing—” But Gil realized he was now talking to empty air. He turned and gasped. Tarvek was holding Agatha, helping her to a sitting position. She was covered in blood and bruises.
Instantly Gil, too, was kneeling by her side. She looked up at him and gave a tight-lipped smile. “Tarvek said you’d get out. I’m glad you’re all right.” She closed her eyes and slumped back against Tarvek. “Sorry,” she whispered. “This really hurts.”
“Don’t worry about Zola,” Tarvek muttered as he glared at Gil, “I’m sure the Castle will get her.”
When it spoke, the Castle was positively subdued. “Oh, is my façade red. Forgive me, Mistress, but she is already out of my currently limited range.”
“Well.” Agatha sighed. “At least she’s gone.”
Tarvek snorted as he examined Agatha’s bruises. “For now,” he said, resentment coloring the words.
Gil bit his lip and changed the subject. “Agatha. Let me look at you.”
Tarvek sniffed. “Already doing it.”
“Hey, I am a doctor, you know.”
“Who isn’t?”
Agatha grimaced. “They wouldn’t let me take the exams . . . ” She pulled aside her shirt and examined her chest. “But I’m pretty sure this wound is superficial.”
Gil and Tarvek glanced at each other. Both were decidedly red in the face. They cleared their throats simultaneously.
Gil spoke first. “Ah. Nevertheless, you should still let me . . . us . . . take a look. At the wound.”
Agatha colored. “But it’s—”
Tarvek broke in. “Zola did it. We need to make sure it isn’t poisoned.”
Agatha bit her lip. “She uses poison?”
Gil angrily opened his mouth, then paused. “Well,” he said slowly, “I always thought she just couldn’t make coffee, but now I’m not so sure.”
Wordlessly, Agatha undid a few buttons. Both Gil and Tarvek scrutinized the wound. Both nodded. “In my opinion,” Gil conceded, his ears flaming, “everything looks great . . . I mean good.”
Tarvek announced, “Smoke Knight poisons are supposed to be hard to detect, but the fact that you’re not already dead is a very good sign. I know it’s almost impossible in here, but try to keep it clean.”
“I assure you,” Agatha said as she buttoned herself back up, “that when this is all over, I will be having a bath for a week at least.”
“Violetta will have some stuff we should get on that wound as soon as possible, just in case.”
Just then a rattling groan caught them by surprise. Gil looked around and saw a battered form slumped behind a case of fossils. It was beginning to thrash feebly. “Ah, Airman Higgs.”
Tarvek looked like he’d just seen a heretofore unnoticed timer click down to “zero.” “He’s alive?”
Gil squatted down next to the injured man and delicately probed the holes in Higgs’s shirt. The airman’s hand shot out to bat him away, but Gil deflected it absentmindedly. A look of disbelief broke through the mask of pain on Higgs’s face. “If even just half this blood is yours,” Gil muttered, “you shouldn’t move. At all.”
“Looks worse than it is, sir.”
“That’s evident. You’re still alive.”
Higgs grunted in amusement. He rolled to his feet, assuming a swaying semblance of the position of attention. “There. See? Fit as a fiddle, sir.”
Gil stared up at him and nodded slowly. “Apparently so.”
“How are you folks, sir?”
The question caught Gil by surprise. “What?”
Higgs fished his pipe out of his pocket and indicated the others with a slightly shaky hand. “You lot okay, sir? I mean, last I saw, you were bein’ chomped on by a plant and the Lady Heterodyne was knocked out.” He glanced over at Tarvek and his eyes narrowed. “That fella was doin’ fine.”
Gil nodded. “We’re all fine, Mister Higgs.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” He took a deep breath. “Permission to leave the Castle, sir.”
Gil looked surprised. “Well, not that I blame you for wanting to, but—”
Higgs interrupted him. “I think you missed that part of the fight, sir. Miss Zeetha got stabbed. Pretty bad.”
Tarvek opened his mouth. Higgs looked at him. Tarvek closed his mouth and looked away. Higgs continued, “I want to take her—”
“Ah! To the Great Hospital in Mechanicsburg.” Gil interrupted. “I’ll give you a note. Give it to Doctor Sun and—”
“Uh . . . no, sir.”
“No?”
Higgs shook his head. “Not the hospital. Too public. Miss Zeetha, she’s been seen with you. With the Lady Heterodyne. People will remember her. I
’ll take her to—”
Gil snapped his fingers. “Mamma Gkika’s.”
Higgs nodded. “Yessir.”
Agatha looked confused. “Mamma what?”
Tarvek looked confused. “It’s a degenerate . . . ” He paused. “It’s supposed to be a . . . bar. For tourists.” It was clear he was reconsidering this.
Agatha stepped up to Gil and Higgs. “Zeetha is still back with those plants. We shouldn’t be standing around here, we’ve got to—”
Higgs cut her off. “With all respect, Lady, I’ve got to. You lot still need to get this place back in fighting trim. That Zola girl got out. Someone’s gonna find her, and she’ll tell them that the Castle is down. Then it’ll be a race between the Baron or her people to see who can flatten this place first. I can’t fix the Castle, but I can give you one less thing to worry about by getting Miss Zeetha to safety.” He nodded towards Agatha. “By y’r leave, of course, m’Lady.”
Agatha looked at Gil. “And the people at this ‘tourist bar’? They can do a better job of keeping her alive than the Great Hospital?”
Gil considered this. “All things considered? Yes. They have access to techniques the hospital doesn’t.”
Agatha bit her lip. “All right, I’ll trust your judgment.” She turned to Higgs. “But are you sure that you can get out of here and get her there safely?”
“It’s your Castle, Lady. If you tell it to let us go . . . ”
“Castle?”
The Castle hesitated. “If you so wish it, it shall be so.”
Higgs smiled. “There you go.”
Tarvek looked at him. “I don’t think he’s going to have any trouble at all.”
Higgs nodded genially. “You should listen to your friend here, m’Lady. He’s a smart guy.”
Higgs started off and Tarvek stepped along with him. “You didn’t mention Violetta.”
Higgs nodded. “That Smoke Knight gal?”
Tarvek nodded. “Well spotted. Yes, is she all right?”
“Yessir. Last I saw, she was lookin’ after Miss Zeetha. If she’s still alive, it’ll be because of your Miss Violetta.”
“Mine no longer,” Tarvek replied. “She serves the Lady Heterodyne now.”
Higgs considered this. “By your order?”
“Yes.”
“And you can do that?”
“I can.” Higgs absorbed this in silence. Tarvek continued, “And, in her own way, she is very good. Your Miss Zeetha will probably be okay.”
Higgs actually stumbled. “Uh, she—she ain’t my Miss Zeetha, sir.”
“Oh.” Tarvek waved the suggestion away. “Heaven forbid. I’m sure you’d desert your duties and hare off to save any green-haired Amazon.”
Under the bruises, it was clear that Higgs’ face was getting red. “Ain’t desertin’, sir. Got permission.”
“Oh yes,” Tarvek granted, “so you did.” Under his breath he muttered, “From the Lady Heterodyne, too, I noticed.” Instantly Higgs swung towards him, his eyes as cold as death. Tarvek stepped back—
“Tarvek!” Agatha called. “Come and see!”
The two men stared at each other for another second, then Tarvek took off running. He dashed up to the map display and stopped in surprise. The display was much clearer now. It was easier to identify actual architectural features. Within the edifice of light, several red spots bloomed. “That’s looking better,” he said.
“Yes,” the Castle boomed. “With the other fragments of my personality eliminated, I am no longer in conflict. However, I am still not yet fully integrated. The places in red are where I still require repairs.”
Agatha nodded in satisfaction. “Now that’s useful! Let’s go!”
Within the Great Hospital a particular patch of darkness wavered and resolved itself into a giant but indistinct man. He opened its mouth and slurred sounds came out. Rudolf Selnikov realized something was seriously wrong and gave a scream that, even to his own ears, sounded garbled.
The man reached forward and made some sort of adjustment.
The view clicked into perfect focus. Better than perfect, actually. Rudolf had noticed an annoying blurring of vision over the last year or two. He had accepted that spectacles were an inevitable part of his future, but now—
“How is that?” the fellow, an elderly Chinese man in a medical uniform asked.
“Um . . . better” Rudolf realized something still sounded very odd. “Is . . . is that my voice?”
The old man gave a tight smile of satisfaction. “Indeed it is. And you’re lucky to have it.”
A few more things snapped swiftly into place. “Wait a minute. I know you. You’re Herr Doktor Sun! Am I in the Great Hospital?”
Sun looked pleased. “Cognition seems good. Excellent. Yes, you are.”
“But why . . . Uh-oh . . . ”
“Ah, coming back, is it?”
“Young Wulfenbach! He . . . ” Rudolf paused. “I can’t actually remember.”
Sun nodded as he made an elegant calligraphic note on a chart. “Interesting, but hardly surprising. Typical death trauma.”26
“DEATH?”
Sun frowned. “Tsk. Look at those readings. Calm down before you break something. Yes, yes, you died. Don’t be a baby about it.”
“Dead,” Rudolf whispered.
Sun waggled a hand back and forth. “Well, obviously not dead dead . . . ”
“Ah! Yes! Of course! The Baron needs me! He’s made me a new body!” This idea obviously perked Rudolf up a bit. “Why, that’s wonderful. My original was no great shakes, after all.”
Sun pursed his lips and looked down at the tank that contained the revivified head. “Well, my Lord Selnikov, I wouldn’t get too excited about that new body just yet.”
He turned Rudolf’s container about so it was facing a small mirror. Rudolf swore. “Oh, now this is absurd! How am I supposed to shave?”
Sun was impressed. This was usually when these “extreme patients” tended to break down. “Your lordship actually shaves himself?”
“As if I’d trust anyone I know to put a razor to my throat.”27
Sun observed Rudolf’s jawbone was directly attached to the nutrient recirculation mechanisms. “Technically? No longer a problem.”
Rudolf glared at him sourly. “Ah yes, that ‘Sunny bedside manner’ everyone goes on about.”28
“In your case, the whole bedside thing is also no longer applicable.” Sun paused. “Do they really talk about my—”
“What’s the price,” Rudolf snarled.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t be disingenuous. Why am I still alive?”
Sun nodded in approval. “You were plucked from the wreckage of an army of unregistered war clanks. You had a lovely big fancy hat. The Baron believes you know many things. When he also knows them, then you will get your fine strong new body.”
Rudolf mulled this over. “And the freedom to enjoy it?”
Sun spread his hands and sighed knowledgeably. “Freedom is such a relative term. If you know as much about these ‘Knights of Jove’ and their machinations as the Baron believes, then, when you are wrung dry, a great many powerful people will hate you very much. So while you would certainly be ‘free’ to leave the Baron’s service and protection, well . . . ”
Rudolf looked ill. “Zott. He’s good at this.”
Sun beamed. “He occasionally does his teachers proud!”
“The depressing thing? Twisted and ruthless as you people are, throwing in with you is a step up.”
Sun nodded. “For your safety, we released your name as one of the dead.”
Rudolf grimaced in distress. “Everyone is going to know I died?”29 Sun shrugged. “Confound it, that means my lands and titles will go to that insufferable nephew of mine.30 I’ll be ruined socially . . . barred from my clubs . . . none of my old friends will be in if I call, the wretched snobs, even the ones who were eager to call when I wasn’t in.” He gave a great sigh, which sent a few bubbl
es up past his nose. “Why, even my wife . . . ” He paused as the implications began to percolate through his mind. He glanced at Doctor Sun. “Can I get a brass plate that says Reanimated Abomination of Science bolted to my forehead?”31
“Er . . . I suppose?”
Suddenly, Sun Ming Daiyu32 appeared, in a state of agitation. “Grandfather! Come quickly!” She saw Rudolph and paused. “Ah. Pardon me, you’re with a patient.” She bowed slightly to Rudolph’s jar. “Hello, sir. You are looking much better.” The niceties observed, she again turned to Doctor Sun. “Grandfather, if we could step outside?”
Once in the hallway, Doctor Sun turned towards his granddaughter, an expectant look on his face. “The Heterodyne girl—the one from the pink airship—she’s out of the Castle! They’re bringing her in to Emergency.” Without another word, the two began running towards the admitting wing. The staff made sure the hallway before them was cleared as they sped by. Daiyu continued: “She was using some kind of flight suit and the gargoyle sweepers shot her down.”33 She paused. “I haven’t seen her yet, but apparently she was flying rather erratically and the reported extent of her injuries suggest that she was seriously injured even before she was brought down.”
“Prep Theater Three,” Sun called out as they hurried on. “And I want a double contingent of guards!”
They paused as a line of gurneys temporarily blocked the hall. A door opened. “Oh, Doctor Sun! What is it? Are we in danger?”
Sun waved a hand. “Nothing to fear, princess. Someone will be by to see to you soon.”
The mechanical figure nodded and bestowed a charming smile on the doctor and his granddaughter and even on the two armed guards who stood outside her door. “Thank you, Doctor,” the clank that had once been the Princess Anevka said. “That is so reassuring.”
CHAPTER 4
The Heterodyne he built a house, of stones and bones and screams.
If you’ve ever been to Mechanicsburg, you’ve seen it in your dreams.
Oh, folks go in, but don’t come out, and no one says a word,
For if they do, they go in themselves, at least that’s what I’ve heard.