by Phil Foglio
Sun closed his eyes and swore. The stupid machine had blared out the news like a town crier. Everyone within three hundred meters must have heard it, and there would be no way to contain the information. He glanced towards the looming castle. Young Gilgamesh’s task would be even harder now. He glared at the clank. The foolish thing meant well, and guarding the shaft was the correct thing to do, but he had quite enough of helpful clanks.
He flagged down an orderly. “Find an engineer,” he ordered. “I want that clank deactivated and off site. Then put together a team with breathing apparatus. They are to go down and retrieve the bodies of the Baron and anyone else present.” The man nodded and took off. Sun considered the matter closed and turned his mind to trying to deal with the news that was even now sweeping through the air: the Baron was dead.
Word spread through the people present and continued unchecked faster than one would have thought possible. It was relayed in tones of shock, of amazement, of joy and horror. Via radio and hastily scribbled message. By official communiqués and by voices screaming it from the top of shattered buildings. It roared through Mechanicsburg and then began to spread through the forces of the empire like the waves in a pond caused by a stone dropped from three kilometers high.
Many disbelieved it. Many wanted to believe it. Many more did not, but everyone had an opinion about it. The news continued to spread throughout the known world.
CHAPTER 6
Life is nothing but a constant series of choices. What to eat, where to go, with whom to mate? This ability to choose is a universal constant that defines life and differentiates it from inert matter. What further separates humanity from base Animalia is this: the choices available to us can increase exponentially, and can even begin to include abstract, counterintuitive choices that would never even occur to any other animal, exempli gratia: Should I even continue to live at all?
—The introduction to How to Buy Comfortable Shoes (Mechanicsburg Cobblers Association)
(Note: In 1792, because of falling sales, the Mechanicsburg Cobblers Association commissioned the production of a give-away pamphlet entitled How to Buy Comfortable Shoes. In a move that, in retrospect, seems obviously flawed, they thought to save money by hiring an out-of-work philosopher named Rabelais Van Zowkensteen to write it. The resulting six-hundred-page “pamphlet” is rightly regarded as the definitive work on human cognitive behavior vis-à-vis choice versus predeterminism.
Numerous accolades and awards followed, none of which Van Zowkensteen was able to appreciate as he was kicked to death by the officers of the Mechanicsburg Cobblers Association, who had seen their organization bankrupted by an excessive printer’s bill.
The Heterodyne of the time, Yog Heterodyne, was so impressed by the efficacy of the boots used in Van Zowkensteen’s execution (Model # 4711 All Leather Wingtip Stompers), he ordered that all Heterodyne forces be equipped with the same from then on.
This order completely revitalized the Mechanicsburg shoe and boot industry. As a result, a commemorative statue of Van Zowkensteen was commissioned by the now-grateful association. This stands today in the Square of the Four Ironies (of which he is the second).
This sort of thing happens a lot in Mechanicsburg, and a wise traveler should take pains to see that it does not happen to them.)
—An excerpt from “Chapter 5: Things Happen Here: How to Prepare Oneself For the Oddities of Mechanicsburg,” Pontexeter’s Guide to Transylvania, Moldavia, Wallachia, & Croatia, 10Sth Edition
Within Castle Heterodyne, things had stopped falling. The giant machine and its scythes had come to a stop. A door near the top of the device swung open, and Agatha popped out, grinning. “Ta—daah!” she gestured with a showman’s flourish. Gil and Tarvek, crawling out from beneath some strategically placed steel slabs, saw the machine had fallen, blades extended, so that the top of the longest would serve as a bridge directly to the damaged cable. “There we go! Now we can travel above the security clanks!”
As the dust settled, Gil saw several of the security clanks, undamaged, continuing their endless shuffling paths across the floor, the steel arc curving gracefully over their heads.
“But . . . ” He took a deep breath. “They could still attack us. If you’re going to haul that huge thing in here, why not just smash them?”
Agatha shook her head. “Oh no. The Castle wouldn’t like it if I broke them.”
“Aw, come on. The Castle isn’t even active in here. We won’t tell.” Gil looked to Tarvek for assistance.
“Oh yes,” Tarvek continued sincerely. “They were totally smashed up when we found them.”
Agatha put her hands on her hips. “Excuse me? Those are my fun-sized mobile agony and death dispensers. They’re works of art! You can break your own stuff, thank you very much.” Gil and Tarvek both opened their mouths to protest, but Agatha cut them off. “You just head over there. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Violetta took the lead, dancing along the length of the long blade. “Come on!” She laughed. “We’re almost done!” She executed a series of hand flips. “Look at this! It’s perfect! An elephant could waltz down this thing.” Violetta smirked, “And Tarvek? This time, don’t jump on one, okay?”
The two men looked at each other, sighed, hoisted up their satchels of tools, and looked at the top of the blade. It was flat and even, slightly curved, and wide enough that, had it spanned, say, a lovely chattering brook in a beautiful forest somewhere, it would have been no trouble to cross. Using it to cross over a pit of mechanical tiger clanks, on the other hand . . .
They eyed each other dubiously, then Tarvek offered Gil his arm. Gil nodded. They hooked arms and stepped out together. Instantly the heads of the clanks below snapped to attention, tracking their progress and grinding their metal teeth in an unnerving susurrus.
“You jumped on one?” Gil considered this. “I’ll bet that went well.”
Tarvek didn’t bother to shrug. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Because he was stupid,” Violetta sang out from before them. She paused and spun about on one toe. “Hey, I’ve got an idea! Maybe you should each jump in! I’ll bet they’ll lock up trying to decide who to shred first!”
She twirled back and froze. When the huge machine had fallen, the security clanks had been scattered, and one had been thrown atop the wide maintenance platform that ran halfway across the room. The makeshift bridge passed nearby, close enough the tiger clank was now daintily stepping onto the top of the blade, glowing eyes fixed on Violetta “I’d start with this one,” she whispered, “because I’m not riding it.”
“Aunt Terella’s garmhounds!” Tarvek snapped.
Violetta blinked. “Ah!” She caught the rail of the platform in both hands. With an acrobatic kick, she straightened into a handstand and stiffened into immobility. The clank padded towards her.
“Okay, we can do this!” Violetta growled through clenched teeth. “There’s only the one up here, and it can’t see me as long as I hold still.”
“Right. Now we’ll lure it past you.” Tarvek called out, waving his arms, “Yoo hoo! Here, kitty kitty!” The clank had paused briefly near Violetta, who was having trouble keeping her arms from trembling. “Just hurry up!” she muttered as the clank gave an inquiring growl and continued towards the two men.
“Why are we doing this exactly?” Gil asked as he tried to compensate for Tarvek’s gyrations.
“We’re using our wits. Don’t try to take notes, just work with us.”
As the clank moved past her, Violetta took a shallow breath. “Okay, let it get a little closer, then I’ll lure it off of this thing. Somehow . . . ” She looked around. There was nothing she could use to lure the clank anywhere. They were at least five meters above the ground, which was a seething mass of other tiger clanks. The only other thing she could see that could be of any conceivable use was a nearby cage-like lantern that hung at the end of a rusty chain.
“Violetta, it’s getting close.” A quick glan
ce showed the clank was less than two meters from the now-frozen pair. A jolt of terror went through Violetta as she noticed a draft of air was gently ruffling both men’s hair.
Tarvek’s face was set in a wide, sickly grin. “Eeoletta?” He called without moving his mouth. “Oo ken attract its attention anytime now.”
Violetta gazed out over the empty room and swallowed. “Okay, okay! I’m working up to it!” With that, she pulled a knife from her belt and tossed it at the clank. It smacked into the back of its head with a solid clunk and dropped to the ground. Instantly, the great machine whirled in place and roared directly towards her, screaming in triumph. With a shriek of her own, Violetta launched herself into open space, the clank behind her, claws extended and jaws agape. Violetta sailed through the air and smashed into the light fixture, which rocked wildly as she scrambled to hang on. With a startled “Graah?” The great security clank continued downwards and crashed into a stone pillar.
“Ha ha!” Violetta screamed down at the clank as it pulled itself back to its feet. “Take that, you giant tin toy!” She glanced back at Tarvek. “I can’t believe this stupid plan actually worked.”
“Look out!” Gil shouted, as a fusillade of bullets screamed through the air. They hit the chain holding Violetta’s perch aloft. The rusty metal gave way, dropping the lantern into the pit of clanks below. Violetta leapt just in time, barely catching hold of a railing that overlooked the floor.
“Those were shots,” Tarvek said, looking about wildly. “Where did they come from?”
Gil stared up at the great engine. “Agatha?”
Near the control cupola stood Professor Tiktoffen, holding Agatha slumped in his arms. “She’s here,” he cried. “The Lady Heterodyne is hurt! Hurry!”
Gil and Tarvek stared. “Tiktoffen!” Tarvek called out. “Where have you been? We’ll be right there.”
Gil stopped him. “No. Wait. Agatha looks . . . odd.”
It was true, Tarvek thought. Agatha lay in Tiktoffen’s arms in a very peculiar fashion. It looked . . . wrong. Drugged? Her eyes fluttered open and she muttered something unintelligible. Then, suddenly, her eyes went wide as she lashed back with one foot, smashing it down onto Professor Tiktoffen’s shin. He shrieked, and dropped the ends of—
“A garrote!” Tarvek shouted in surprise.
In the few seconds she had, Agatha tore the loop of wire from around her neck and yelled “RUN!” She then vaulted down the side of the great machine, heading for the gap in the wall.
“Damn it,” Tiktoffen swore. He straightened up and yelled, “Stop! I want you alive, but I don’t need you alive!” Unsurprisingly, this appeal did not check Agatha’s progress. She slipped past the shattered wall and vanished. Tiktoffen threw up his hands. “Fine. So much for tricks and foolishness. I’ll catch the girl—” From behind an engine casing, Captain Vole76 and a pair of prisoners, armed with small Wulfenbach-issue machine cannons, appeared. “—You kill those fools.”
Vole grinned. “Yez, master!”
By this time Gil and Tarvek had reached the base of the great claw. Gil stopped in astonishment. “Vole? What are you doing here?”
With a laugh, Vole raised the gun and fired off a burst. Gil was yanked behind a cowling by Tarvek, who hissed, “Have you no survival instincts at all?”
“But how did he even get in here? He’s supposed to be working for my father!”
“Iz true!” Vole cried gleefully as he began to leap downwards towards them. “Ov cauze, de Kestle ain’t gun keep a Jäger out! Ve iz praktikally family, hey?” He slammed to the ground and carefully adjusted his hat. “Und yez, hy did vork for de Baron, yah, iz de truth! But now, de Baron is dead!” Both Gil and Tarvek were stunned. Vole continued. “De Great Hozpital haz been destroyed. Lots uv pipple killed. Herr Doktor Sun haz seen all de survivors . . . ” He shrugged. “Sorry, leedle Prinz, but hyu poppa iz gone.” Vole now grinned. “Chust like his wretched nicey-play empire.” Vole sighed happily and turned to his two companions who had just joined him. “Vell,” he conceded, “Almost gone. But ve gun fix dot right now. Come on, boyz, iz a goot day for regicide!”
Agatha dashed up a stairway and around a corner to a long gallery. Windows opened along one side, looking out at the smoke and fire of the battle raging outside. If she could lure Tiktoffen to a place where the Castle was active . . .
She heard him pounding up the stairway after her. She came to a closed door and frantically began trying to pull it open. Professor Tiktoffen saw her and nodded in satisfaction. A burst of gunfire from behind them caused him to ruefully shake his head. “Tsk. Captain Vole is a man of simple tastes. Still, he is useful.”
Agatha answered him angrily as the door began to move on groaning hinges. “Useful how? What are you doing? I was almost done!”
“Indeed you were,” the professor said admiringly. “As for me, why, I am filling a vacuum! Sparks! Hard to believe it but, really, they have no imagination. Every fool with a minion and an oversized farm animal thinks they can replace Klaus.” He patted his chest. “I, on the other hand, simply want to replace the Heterodyne.” He threw his hands out. “A town full of minions! This magnificent castle—I must thank you for the repairs, by the way—all it needs is a master to get everything rolling again. And that will be me!”
Agatha snorted. “Ridiculous. Even if I wasn’t here—which I am—the Baron would never allow it!”
“Of course he would have! I already worked for him! I worked for all of them! Wulfenbach, the Order, the Silent Librarians, Albia’s Intelligence, the Downunders, Sons of Franklin, the Master of Paris, All of the Vaticans—hard to keep them all straight, sometimes! But I—I was everyone’s inside man!”
Agatha, meanwhile, had gotten the door open far enough that she could begin to squeeze through. Tiktoffen casually fished a small, weighty tool from a coat pocket and threw it, striking Agatha directly in the back of the head, bringing her to her knees. “But I never lost sight of the fact that I was always working for myself!”
Agatha shook her head desperately attempting to clear it and realized she was sprawled over a corpse. With a gasp, she rolled aside smack into another body. She tried to get to her knees while looking around wildly. She saw most of the prisoners who had been sentenced to the Castle. They had been shot, often at close range. Against a wall stood two dead-eyed men who tracked her movements with their rifles, even as Tiktoffen strolled into the room. “Now it’s all in danger of falling apart,” he continued blithely while shaking his head. “A real Heterodyne, for pity’s sake.” He paused and gave a small, self-deprecating smile. “Ah, but I imagine you get that a lot.”
He stepped to the center of the room, put his hands on his hips, and slowly swiveled about to take in the full extent of the slaughter. There were easily three dozen bodies strewn about in slowly expanding pools of blood. He nodded in satisfaction. “Well, perhaps it’s actually just all coming together. It’s how you look at it, I suppose.”
Agatha stared at him. “But . . . ” She looked about at the dead people around her. “But they were with you. Why are you killing the other prisoners?”
Tiktoffen snorted. “Because I knew them. Why do you think they were in here to begin with?” His boot nudged a genial-looking man with a curly mustache. “Franz here liked turning people into beetles. Zonia believed orphan blood had medicinal properties. Krag insisted on putting his feet on my bed. Trust me, I’m doing the world at large a favor. With the Castle repaired they would have been released back into society.”
“And you think you’re better?”
Tiktoffen rolled his eyes. “And here I thought you were a smart girl.”
“Smarter than you,” she shot back. “Smart enough to know where I am. This is one of the sections I’ve already fixed.”
The men by the wall tensed and shot a worried look at Tiktoffen. He waved them down and merely appeared interested.
“Castle!” Agatha called, “Are you there?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Agatha hesitated. There was something about the Castle’s voice. “Catch these insects for me!”
Nothing happened.
“I-I am sorry, Mistress,” the Castle whispered. “I . . . I cannot!”
Tiktoffen released the breath he’d been holding and smiled. “Oh. Didn’t I mention that?” He spun, spreading his hands to encompass the entire structure. “I love this place!” he shouted exuberantly. “Old Faustus77 created something extraordinary! Nothing less than a new form of life! Beautiful! I read everything I could before I came here, but it was all rubbish and hysteria. I was still unprepared for the reality. The Castle was broken. Insane. Like everything else in this valley, it needed a master. Me!
“Repairing it, learning how it worked, how it thought . . . it was exhilarating! But it was also dangerous! Like a feral child with a doomsday device. I worked on the Lion, but I doubt I would have ever used it. You saw more clearly than I did there, I’ll give you that. A brilliant solution! I’ll also freely admit that mine was nowhere near as elegant.”
He rolled up his righthand sleeve, and Agatha saw a device had actually been grafted into his arm. The place where it met his flesh was red and tender-looking. Lights blinked slowly, and the needle on a small dial flicked even as Agatha watched. Tiktoffen chuckled, “No, I simply learned to tame the poor creature.” He strutted over and bowed slightly. “So I must beg your pardon, Lady Heterodyne, but your house belongs to me now.”
Agatha had palmed a spanner and used it now to backhand Tiktoffen across the face. “Belongs to you?” She snarled, “You? You talk too much and you got too close!”
Tiktoffen glared at her, pure hate in his eyes. “How dare you, you ungrateful trollop! I was going to let you live!” He called out to the two men, “KILL HER!” Instantly the two rifles swung up, but never finished their arcs. Holes opened beneath them both and they dropped screaming into the darkness.