Agatha H and the Siege of Mechanicsburg

by Phil Foglio

  He gave a small titter of greed-fueled anticipation and, once again, grasped the bronze hammer and lifted—

  Outside on the streets of Mechanicsburg, foreign troops moved gingerly through the town. Resistance had been sporadic, but when it came, it was terrifying. Unlike most of Europa, the people of Mechanicsburg had never experienced this particular aspect of the fortunes of war and they made it clear in a thousand ways that they did not like it. In this they were aided by many things. The terrain of Mechanicsburg itself is convoluted and quite often vertical. Ambushes were easy and effective. There were also a superabundance of bolt-holes and hiding places. These had been developed through the centuries of living under a string of unstable spark despots.

  The Heterodyne family had a well-known tradition of sparing the people of Mechanicsburg from their assorted cruelties, but that’s not to say they didn’t occasionally snatch unwary people off the streets. It was just that, when they did, they had every sincere intention of improving them.

  There was also Mechanicsburg’s reputation. It was honestly earned, to be sure, and had only grown in the telling. While it was true that much of the city’s fabled lethalness was currently disabled, this was not common knowledge. Besides, there was still more than enough oddity in Mechanicsburg to set people from normal urban environments justifiably on edge. Therefore, it was understandable that the forces moving through the streets had quickly adopted a “shoot first, then shoot again” policy.

  One such unit served as a microcosm of the larger army. Its mechanical walkers had been supplied by one of the lesser kingdoms tucked away on the border between France and one of the innumerable Germanic states. One of the drivers carefully lifted the walker’s right foot over a fallen wall, without breaking his stream of nervous, one-sided conversation. “ . . . and anyway, I don’t understand why we’re doing this.”

  On a raised seat behind him, his lieutenant rolled his eyes. “Shut up, you pig!”

  The other driver, who managed the left foot, and was thus a much more experienced soldier, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, man. Shut up.”

  “I mean . . . attacking a hospital . . . ”

  A smack from a riding crop dented his hat. “Imbecile! How dare you question my orders!”

  The other driver nodded. “It took out the Baron.”

  “And now we’re attacking a . . . a busted castle? What does that even mean?”

  “Stinking poltroon! Your tortures will be exquisite!”

  “Hey. Some of us are just tryin’ to kill things, here.”

  Despite himself, the older soldier was drawn into the conversation. “Look. They said that the Baron’s kid is in there. So bringing it down is just smart. Kill him, kill the empire.”

  “Yes, yes.” The lieutenant sighed as he settled back in his chair. “But we also have to kill the Heterodyne girl, if you must know.”

  “Ho-ho,” the second driver smiled around his cigar. “A twofer! Sweet!”

  “But . . . but I thought we needed her alive so she could marry the Storm King.”

  “Lackwit! Cretin! Wrong Heterodyne girl! Wrong Storm King! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!”

  “See? I never know what the heck we’re doing.”

  The second driver just grinned. “You gotta enjoy the little things, man. Like the killin’.”

  The first driver slumped. “Well, I do like blowing things up . . . ”

  “That’s it! Start small!”

  One story up in a room that deliberately did not appear to be the center of Mechanicsburg’s government, several eyes watched from behind slightly parted curtains as the soldiers crept past. Van sighed and looked back at the people in the darkened room. “You’re sure the Street of the Goldmakers80 has been evacuated?”

  Vidonia checked her notes. “Yes.”

  “And they—?”

  Carson von Mekkhan chuckled. “Left the acid sprayers running? Oh yes. Also the Tunnel Rats are all in place. They say they can collapse any street you want, ‘just say the word.’ ”

  Van nodded glumly. “Well, we can only destroy the town once, so we’d better make it count.”

  Vidonia touched his sleeve. “We should get going too.”

  “Yes, yes, I know. Have all the children made it to the Red Cathedral?”

  A twisted figure lurched into motion. It looked like it was made of stretched leather swathed in rotting bandages and studded with the occasional glowing dial. Lips slowly peeled back from oddly elongated teeth. In a sibilant voice it hissed, “They have, and the Crypt Masters81 will keep them safe. This we so vow!”

  A small girl in a pink frock groaned and slapped her forehead.

  The Crypt Master paused. “What?”

  The girl looked at him beseechingly. “Oh, come on, great-great-great gran’pa—talk normal!”

  The creature looked bewildered. “What? But this is the Speech of Vowing, you snotulous child!”

  The girl grabbed the creature’s wrist and dragged it towards the door. “Well I vow that you are sooo embarrassing!”

  “I will smite your allowance!”

  Van watched the creature totter from the room, a troubled look on his face. “You don’t think that growing up here might make us a little . . . weird, do you?”

  “LOOK OUT!”

  A projectile smashed through the window. It smacked into the far wall, then dropped to the floor. It was a complicated-looking metal sphere. Van stared at it in horror.

  “That was too close.” Carson swore. “Now can we go?”

  “Yes!” Van shouted. “Everyone get out! Quickly! I’ve heard about these!”

  Suddenly, the sphere unwound and a single glass eye snapped open. “Freeze!” A voice shouted from a small speaker, “Stay where you are or die! I can hear you, you know!” The device coiled itself up like a snake and swung about, surveying the room. It saw the people huddled together and stopped. “There you are! Ha! Why this is marvelous! I can see everything!” There was the sound of rustling paper. “Where is that idiot’s speech—ah!

  “Leaders of Mechanicsburg! Prepare to . . . ” Abruptly, the lenses on the eyes spun about. “Wait a minute . . . who the devil are you fools? You’re not . . . ” The owner of the voice obviously turned away to address someone near them. “I mean look at them. They aren’t the City Council! Oh well, I’ll just kill them anyway.”

  Which was when one of the great suits of armor that stood alongside the wall, swung its huge axe down, slicing the device into sparking fragments. In the street below there was a rumble, followed by shouts. At the window, Vidonia yelled, “Hey, come and take a look at this! Something’s happening!” The others stared down in wonder. Below, in the street, a wall had collapsed, trapping one of the three-man walkers.

  “I didn’t order that,” Van said.

  “You should have. It’s bottled up a whole unit.”

  Carson tapped the glass and pointed down the other direction. “Look. Both ends of the Folding Bridge have gone up. Those soldiers are trapped on Tiny Monster Island.”

  “What? We have to—”

  “They’ll be fine as long as they obey the signs and don’t leave the path,” Carson said as he watched the troopers ignore the signs and climb over the railings. Then they started to dance. Carson smiled. He always loved that part.

  Van looked bewildered. “But who . . . ?”

  The ornamental fountain in the corner gave a gurgle and then a stream of water spurted out into the bowl. Carson fell to his knees and clapped a hand to his wounded head. “It’s back,” he moaned.

  A dry chuckle filled the room, “Hello, Carson,” the Castle said. “I had a bit of trouble finding you, but I did it! Yes, I did! And you’re still alive to appreciate it. That’s a bit of a bonus. Ah, but we have no time to play. There is work to be done!”

  Within Castle Heterodyne, Agatha leaned back and, raising the goggles from her eyes, critically examined the weld that was still fading from red to gray before her. “I think that’s the last one. Castle? Can y
ou hear me?”

  There was a rumbling that echoed throughout the entire castle, as the structure . . . flexed. “YES!” The voice of the Castle was triumphant, its timbre full and rich with none of the faint notes of emptiness Agatha had noted before. “Well done, Mistress! I am still accessing . . . but I believe I am once again complete.” It paused. “Within my main structure at least. My conduits into the surrounding town are damaged, but it appears that most of this is due to accumulated negligence, as opposed to damage from outside forces. Unfortunately, said forces are quite capable of further damage and my energy levels are insufficient to properly defend the town. I must warn you, they are continuing to fall at an alarming rate.”

  Agatha absorbed this. “Can you ensure that Madame Otilia will be able to reach Gil?”

  “That I can do, Mistress, and the security grid is functional enough that the other units with her will be able to operate within the confines of the town.”

  “Great!” Agatha turned. “Come on. Tarvek, let’s . . . ” It was then that Agatha and Violetta registered that Tarvek was, in fact, not there.

  “Where’d he go?”

  Violetta rolled her eyes. “Oh, I cannot believe he missed this! He was supposed to be here by now!” A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face. “He really was—I’ll go get him.” She dashed off.

  “Castle?” Agatha asked, “Is Tarvek all right?”

  There was a pause. “I am sorry, Mistress, but I cannot seem to locate him.”

  In the Mechanicsburg Town Hall, Van finished annotating a map of the town. It now showed all the places in town the Castle insisted needed to be repaired. He handed it off to the Head of Public Works. “Have every mechanic you can find get out to look at these right away.”

  The man nodded as he examined the map. “Yessir.” He glanced out the window. “Gonna need some support so my boys don’t get shot,” he said glumly.

  Van acknowledged this. “I’ll see who I can round up.” He looked vaguely at the ceiling and addressed the Castle. “What exactly are these repairs that they’re so important right now?”

  “There are secrets that I had . . . forgotten,” the Castle replied. “Indeed, I am beginning to remember many things that once were lost.”

  “That’s very cryptic, even for you,” Carson said. “The town is under heavy attack, and you want us to risk valuable people to chase vague memories? What kind of ‘Things that once were lost?’ Socks?”

  There was a pointed silence. When the Castle spoke again, it had a more formal cant to its voice. “Carson von Mekkhan, you always were a suspicious old grouch, even when you were young. I, more than any other, appreciate what you did when your son died. No one, in the history of the family, ever assumed the mantle of seneschal twice in one lifetime. Therefore, by my authority, I shall see to it that your pension is doubled.”

  Carson sat down. “My pension? But—”

  “Hear me now: I, Castle Heterodyne, hereby recognize Agatha Heterodyne as the Lady of Mechanicsburg and Vanamonde von Mekkhan as her seneschal. So stop carping!”

  The Castle continued, “Your young one here has been very well trained. He has already dispatched minions without subjecting me to a string of badgering questions. His naive trust in me gives me great hope for the entertainment value of the young generation.” The suit of animated armor reached out and the immense hand tapped Van’s head. “We’ll get some lovely holes drilled into your head as soon as possible, young man.”

  “What!”

  “Oh yes! What jolly times we’ll have!” A faint explosion sounded from somewhere outside. “Assuming that you and the Lady Heterodyne manage to pull this off.”

  Van started. “The Lady Heterodyne! So she’s all right? Where is she?”

  “Never fear, she is on her way. Soon the Heterodyne will once again scream defiance from atop the walls of Mechanicsburg. It will be glorious! Now, my power is fading and I have many things to do. Your task is to defend the Lady and the town. I will provide aid where I can.” With that, the suit fell apart with a hollow clatter.

  Van stared at the pile of scrap metal and unconsciously ran his hand over his head. He then straightened up and faced the others. “Let’s get to work.”

  Gil and Vole stood at a window analyzing the attackers that were throwing themselves at Castle Heterodyne’s defenses. Gil shook his head. “Everybody is shooting at everybody else. I don’t understand.”

  Vole grinned. “Hyu poppa iz dead.” He shook his head. “And effrybody knows. Dot vos schtupid. Dey should haff vaited for hyu before dey announced it. Dey couldn’t have caused more chaos if dey had vanted to. Efferybody iz determined to grab a piece of sumting, even if it iz filled vit holes.” He pointed up at a flotilla of large metal heads equipped with machine guns that dangled beneath cheerful looking gasbags. “See? Perfect example. Dose gunheds iz for fighting infantry. Vhy iz dey not down by de town gates vere dere iz lots of pipple to shoot? Dey ken’t do nottink to de Kestle but knock out vindows.”

  “True,” Gil agreed. “But we count as ‘infantry’ at the moment and we’re here.”

  Vole amiably conceded the point. “Und hiffen dey vos after us, dot vould make sense. Killink hyu vould change efferyting. Bot dey izn’t. dey iz shootink at dose fency dressers from de Mactovia Duchies dot are comink in over der vall, und dose guys vos allies last hy heard.” He paused, “Hy admit dot dey iz going out ov dere vay to be goot targets.” There was a rattle of gunfire. “Ho! Nize grouping.”

  “The trick will be keeping that from happening to us.”

  Vole waved a hand. “Dot’s a bridge ve gots to cross ven ve ken gets to it.”

  Gil glanced down at their feet, which were still gripped by the stone hands that had, quite unexpectedly, formed out of the floor itself. “Granted.” He sighed. “This place is so . . . amazing, you wouldn’t think you’d get tired of it, but . . . ”

  Vole snorted. “Diz iz nottink. Hyu try puttink op vit it for a hunnert und fifty years.”

  Gil considered this. “I keep forgetting how old you Jägers are.”

  Vole looked surprised. “Old? Hy guess . . . ”

  “Has the Castle changed much?”

  “Nah, it schtill thinks its fonny.”

  “Oh, come on,” the Castle said, “this is hilarious.”

  They started. “So Agatha did it?” Gil asked. “You’re finally repaired?”

  The Castle hesitated. “My core systems are now . . . functional, yes . . . ”

  Vole sniffed deprecatingly. “Hyu iz schtill priddy messy.”

  A brick thwacked into the side of Vole’s head. “Quiet, you! I have no power to spare for superficialities. Plus,” it added grudgingly, “My secondary systems are still incapacitated. But I am fundamentally whole.”

  Gil looked worried. “Still, without power, you’ll soon—”

  Vole interrupted. “Hyu’ll schtill be a useless pile of schmart-arse rocks!”

  Another brick thumped into the back of his head. “Quiet! It is true. Until my generators are restored and my power supplies back within operational parameters, I cannot defend the town as I normally would, and I am . . . ” The Castle paused. “Sorry, I am inordinately distracted by having to act in many places at once. I must use my remaining power sparingly. Cleverly. With subtlety.”

  Vole snorted. “Hyu couldn’t do subtle vit a ton82 ov bricks!” And then he flinched. When nothing happened, he looked up and the flying brick caught him squarely on the jaw.

  “I am aware of the challenge,” the Castle said with some satisfaction. “But now it is time for me to release you. You must go.”

  “We were on our way when you detained us,” Gil pointed out, as the hands of stone melted back into the floor. “What’s different now?”

  They turned at the sound of a metallic chuckle from behind them and saw Otilia and her small army of tiger clanks clattering up the stairwell. “Now I am here, and the most dangerous things on the field outside will be with you,” the Muse announced. �
�We have been sent to accompany you. The Lady Heterodyne insisted.”

  “Did she now.”

  “Oh yes. Now at this time, we can only go as far as the city walls . . . ”

  “That should be fine.” Gil hesitated. “My plan is to first get to the hospital site.”

  Otilia regarded him. “You are aware it has been almost completely destroyed?”

  Gil swallowed. “I . . . yes.”

  “Your father was an amazing man, Gilgamesh, I owe him a great debt.”

  “I . . . know he’s gone, madam, but there will still be Wulfenbach troops in the area. At least some of them will have seen me take out those war clanks . . . and they’ll know my father is . . . is dead. Until I can get to Castle Wulfenbach, they’ll be the most likely to accept my authority. I’ll need them, assuming I can convince them of who I am, of course.”

  “Oh ho!” Sleipnir crowed from atop the cat she and Theo were riding. “That we have covered!”

  Gil actually broke into a smile at the sight of them. “You’re coming with? Excellent!”

  Sleipnir waved a hand. “Of course! Sorry we’re a little late—but we almost forgot something!” She reached back to Theo and held up the ridiculously magnificent hat that the Jägers of Mamma Gkika’s had made for Gil. “Ta-dah! You shouldn’t go anywhere without your wonderful hat!”

  Gil stared at it and felt the weight of inevitability settling on his soul. “Yesss . . . ” He sighed. “With my luck, that will be exactly what I need.”

  Otilia broke in. “If we are to make it out of the Castle courtyard, let alone win the way to the hospital site, we must find a way past those aerial forces.”

  Gil looked concerned. “But surely, now that the Castle’s been repaired—?”

  The Castle’s voice sounded as though it were under stress. “Ordinarily, yes, and . . . I am doing my best, but under the present circumstances, I have . . . so far . . . only been able to take out a few of them.”

  “If that’s the case, why were you wasting any of your remaining power detaining me?”