Agatha H and the Siege of Mechanicsburg

by Phil Foglio

  —Introduction to Victor Shabazznix’s A Field Guide to the Peoples of Mechanicsburg: Constructs, Hybrids, Sports, Mutants, Beast-Men, Offshoots, Grafts, Mimics, Chimeras, Reanimates, Inhumans, Nonhumans, Subhumans, and Herr Xxississlechix

  (Mechanicsburg Press)

  Tarvek grabbed the Vespiary officer’s arm and pulled him along. They skirted the screaming, whirling mass of Jägers and megaweasel and slipped down a blood-spattered corridor. The officer pointed. “The wasp eaters are this way.” They came to an open door and stopped, appalled. The room was full of crushed and shattered cages. Blood was everywhere. Buried near the bottom, a few intact cages held living wasp eaters that were screaming and dashing themselves on the bars in a panic. Kneeling amidst the carnage was a Vespiary Squad tech, clutching one of the wounded creatures. Tears ran down her face. “I’m sorry, Captain,” she sobbed, “So sorry. We’ve lost so many of them.”

  Tarvek swallowed and stepped into the room. “Focus,” he said sharply. “Collect the rest—”

  “Captain!” the girl screamed a warning and Tarvek spun, only to see the warning had come too late. Two slaver warriors were sliding into the room, one extracting the arm-blade that it had sent through the captain’s back and out his chest.

  Tarvek stepped forward. “Hive warriors! Miss, you’ve got to run!”

  Instead, she put one hand on his head, using him as leverage as she vaulted past him. She brought a sword down hard and neatly split the head of one of the warriors in two. The second creature lashed out with its blades, but she slid beneath them while drawing a small weapon from her belt and fired upwards, disintegrating its head in a ball of flame.

  Tarvek gawped. The woman rolled to her feet and looked at him with a frown. “Protecting people from those things is my job,” she said with a sniff.

  Tarvek closed his mouth. “Um . . . I’m . . . I’m sorry, you just seemed rather distraught.”

  Her face collapsed into tears again, even as a third warrior loomed up out of the darkness behind her. “Of course I’m distraught!” Without apparent thought, she swung the gun up over her shoulder and fired a shot that hit the warrior between the eyes. “They hurt my weasels!”

  Tarvek nodded. “Right. Let’s try to collect up as many cages as we can, um . . . ?”

  The woman wiped her nose. “First Unit Keeper Ruxala, sir, and all we have to do is open the cages. Lugging them all would take too long, and we need to hurry. You never know what else Doctor Bren was keeping in his lab. These little guys are smart enough to follow us out.”

  Tarvek held up a hand. “Back up. What else might he have had?”

  Ruxala continued opening cages. “There should be at least two more warriors, so be careful.”

  Tarvek paused in the doorway. “Wait . . . you people brought them here?”

  “Of course. Our job is to detect and destroy them. To do that properly, we have to study them. We also use them to train the wasp eaters.”

  Tarvek relaxed. “That makes sense. You don’t have any actual enslavers here, do you?”

  Ruxala looked shocked. “Of course not! Not live ones, anyway.”

  “I’m relieved. Surprised, but relieved.”

  “Yeah, they don’t last long outside the queens.” Ruxala dusted her hands together as she climbed to her feet. “There! Come on out, sweeties!” Immediately several dozen of the multi-legged creatures poured out of their cages and began clambering over the delighted woman. Tarvek stood well back. “Huh. I didn’t know they were so tame.”

  She looked at him seriously. “Oh, they’re not. They can be quite vicious when they see wasps. But mostly they just hide and ignore people, unless . . . ”

  Suddenly Tarvek realized all of the wasp eaters were staring fixedly at him. “Unless . . . ?” With a chorus of squeals, they leaped and landed on him. Winding about his neck, rummaging under his coat, and just draping themselves wherever they could. To his astonishment, he realized some were already falling asleep.

  Ruxala grinned in delight. “Unless they really like you!” Tarvek shifted his feet and almost stumbled as a flotilla of weasels rearranged themselves over his boots. “Lucky me,” he muttered.

  A series of explosions echoed from somewhere deeper within the dirigible, and a wave of acrid smoke billowed down the hallway. It was followed by another of the Vesipary Squad who was coughing, despite the mask that covered his lower face. He saw the two of them and waved a hand. “What are you people doing? Hurry up and get out!”

  Tarvek tried to shrug off the weasels. “Bren’s lab,” he demanded. “Where is it?”

  The squad member waved a hand behind him. “I’ve just come from there. It’s full of Wulfenbach Stealth Fighters. They’re killing everything they see, but I managed to set most of the experiments free, so they should keep them busy.”

  And then they’ll be our problem, Tarvek thought. Aloud he said, “Did you get Bren’s notes?”

  “Jeez, I was lucky to get out of there alive.”

  Tarvek nodded. “Fine. You two get these wasp eaters out of here. They’re our first priority.” With that, he dashed off down the corridor.

  “Wait!” The squad member called out. “Where are you going?”

  “I need those notes!”

  “I don’t even know if Bren kept notes! And there’s monsters! And crazy killers! You’ve got nothing!”

  “Nonsense,” Tarvek called back. “I’ve got your gun and your knife.”

  Startled, the officer frantically patted his uniform and then slumped in embarrassment. “Man,” he muttered, “I’m gonna hear about that.”

  Tarvek turned a corner and stopped short in dismay. Doors to several offices lined the walls. The corridor itself was filled with smashed equipment. One of the offices was filled with swirling green flames. “I hope that one wasn’t Bren’s,” Tarvek muttered.

  A chucking squeak next to his ear made him jump—and he realized that one of the wasp eaters was still perched on his shoulder. He eyed it suspiciously. “I don’t suppose you know where Bren’s office is?”

  “This way.” After his heart restarted, Tarvek realized the voice actually belonged to Ruxala, who had spoke as she darted past him.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She looked back at him, and he saw that she had donned a breathing mask. “You’re right. Those notes are important. We’ll need them.”

  “But the wasp eaters—”

  “Captain Finucane will get them out.” She smiled under her mask. “I lent him my knife.” She kicked a hissing gas cylinder into an empty office, where it exploded. “Don’t worry, they’re not stupid enough to go running into something like this.”

  Tarvek felt judged. “Excuse me for being stupid.”

  Ruxala chuckled. “Well, you know sparks. If we don’t find those notes, they’ll start wanting to experiment on my weasels.”

  “Only for science . . . ” Tarvek began weakly, but Ruxala ignored him. She pointed to an office that was, astonishingly, only slightly on fire. “Here’s Bren’s office.” She looked at the carboys stacked against the wall and stepped back outside. “Hurry up. Some of that stuff’s really volatile.”

  Tarvek was busy emptying a compact bookcase mounted on the wall over the desk. “Oh yes! This is what I need.” He turned to Ruxala. “Do you see a bag or something we can use?”

  She grunted and collapsed, revealing two Wulfenbach Stealth Fighters, one of which was still pulling a knife from her back. He looked at Tarvek and sneered. “I think you’ll be needing a coffin.”

  His compatriot grinned. “Heh, good one! Make that two!”

  The first one rolled his eyes. “Just kill him and grab those notes. I’ll finish the girl.”

  “No,” Tarvek glared at them. “I think not.” He turned and leapt directly into the flames.

  The men gasped. “What the—? He jumped into the fire?!”

  “But why? We were gonna kill him just fine!”

  A knife blade erupted from his chest.
“You know,” Tarvek said as the other fighter swung to meet him. “I’ve never been much for the whole ‘school pride’ thing . . . ” He effortlessly leapt over the blade that cleaved the air where he’d been, twisting so that his heel impacted the fighter’s jaw, sending him to the ground. “But you clods aren’t fit to shine a Smoke Knight’s knives.”

  He knelt beside Ruxala. “Ah. Good, you’re still alive.” He staunched the flow of blood with her cloak. Suddenly he froze. “Of course this means that I’ll have to carry you.” He hoisted her in his arms, Bren’s library piled on her stomach. The wasp eater climbed over his shoulder and sniffed her with concern. Tarvek stepped back out into the corridor and saw one end was engulfed in flames. “That’s spreading fast,” he muttered to the weasel as he headed for the exit. “Hope they got all your little friends out and at least some of the equipment.”

  Ruxala whimpered in his arms. “I told you to get out,” he muttered to her. “I could have found Bren’s office without your help.” Another explosion some distance away caused the ship to shudder, and the deck listed several degrees to the right. “Probably . . . Maybe . . . ” He turned a corner and found a slain trio of green-clad Vespiary officers. It looked like they had been ambushed while moving equipment. Tarvek stepped over them. “Tsk. Crack Vespiary Squad. All of that training and you get stabbed by morons. What good did it do you?”

  He turned another corner and came face-to-face with a slaver warrior. It raised its bladed arms—and was promptly shot by Ruxala, who, as far as Tarvek could tell, was still unconscious. He hugged her tighter. “Okay,” he conceded, “the training is impressive.”

  “Too slow. Sorry, Captain,” he heard her murmur. “Tummy hurts . . . ” A tear ran down her face.

  Grimly he climbed over a pile of debris. “What I wouldn’t give for Anevka’s strong boys now,” he muttered.

  “Hoy dere, boss!” To Tarvek’s astonishment, he saw Jorgi sitting casually against a wall. He’ll do, Tarvek thought. “Whoo! Dot vus vun krezy veasel monster hyu find for us, hyu betcha! Goot fun, yah!”

  Tarvek looked over his shoulder. “What happened to it?”

  Jorgi shrugged and then winced. “Hy dunno. Grishnarf und Shadsnaf vos chasink it.” He looked at the unconscious Ruxala. “Zo—beeg date?”

  Tarvek wasn’t feeling funny. “Ho-ho. We have to leave. Now. Can you help me out here?”

  Jorgi glanced away. “No.”

  “Come on. Please? I’ll get a note from Agatha—”

  Jorgi looked apologetic. “Dot really vos vun krezy veasel monster ting. Hy gots broken bones in de shoulder und both legs.”

  Tarvek sagged. “Oh.”

  “Hey, dun vorry, ve heals fast.” A nearby explosion sent a ball of flame shooting from a doorway, which ignited the hallway. Jorgi sighed and settled back against the wall. “Hokay, not dot fast.” He closed his eyes and made a shooing motion with his hand. “Hyu keeds better get movin’. Hif hyu vin, hyu treats de Lady goot, hokay?”

  Tarvek actually turned and took a step before he stopped. Thirty seconds later, he was running down the hall again, with Jorgi’s one good arm clutched around his neck. The Jäger was now chattering away in an effort to raise Tarvek’s obviously flagging spirits. This was actually having a positive effect, Tarvek was now moving faster, spurred by the desire to shorten the amount of time he’d have to listen to an endless stream of comments about Jorgi, Tarvek’s family, this experience as a test of his stamina, how news of this heroism was sure to be passed on to Agatha, and would Tarvek by any chance have a sandwich in his pockets?

  “Stop. Talking.” Tarvek gasped. His eyes were wide and frantic.

  “Ho! Dun feel bad!” Jorgi reassured him. “Hyu ken gets us all sandviches vunce ve iz outta here!”

  One of the books slipped from the pile. With a hiss of pain, Jorgi snatched it back with his bad arm.

  He examined the book. “Zo, vot iz so impawtent bout dese books, hay? Dey looks heavy.” He tested a corner of the cover with a sharp tooth, then flipped it open with one claw.

  “Put that down, you illiterate fool!”

  “Shaddop, schmot guy, hy ken read.”

  Tarvek was actually grateful for the small burst of cognitive dissonance. “Good heavens. You can?”

  Jorgi sniffed. “Sure. But hiff hyu tells de odder guys, hy rips hyu head off!”

  Tarvek nodded. “Of course.”

  Jorgi slumped slightly. “Mine poppa vos a blacksmith, but he vanted to be a philosopher.128 He even made mine sisters learn to read so he’d have pipple to argue vit. He vos beeg into duality und de politics ov non-beink as related to Platonic reality.”

  “Really?”

  “Ho! Trick qvestion!”

  Tarvek was trying to concentrate on moving forward, but he couldn’t resist. “Yet you joined the Jägers.”

  Jorgi looked at him askance. “Hey, hyu leesten to a guy like dot for fifteen years, hyu vill vant burn down de vorld too.”

  “Are all Jägers like you?”

  “Nah, most uv us just likes hittin’ pipple.”

  “Unlike you.”

  “Meh, Hy likes it too.” He flipped a page with his thumb. “Huh. Diz book iz all about dem veasle tings.”

  The wasp eater on Tarvek’s shoulder leapt down and darted into a side room. It returned, squeaking urgently. “What now?” Tarvek grumbled. “More Jägers? Orphans? Jäger orphans?” The creature chirruped and dashed back. Tarvek followed and found the weasel agitatedly running back and forth to an open-topped cage. Inside was a dead wasp eater, impaled on a long glass shard from a shattered overhead light. Around the body was close to a dozen smaller weasels, meeping pathetically. Kittens. Tarvek thought. As his shadow fell over them, they looked upwards quizzically and their squeaking grew louder.

  Jorgi grunted and flipped back several pages. “Huh. Dese tings ain’t supposed to heff babbies.”

  “What?”

  Jorgi tapped a set of elaborate diagrams. “Look at dis. Right now, dey gots to use all dis incubation eqvipment.” He scrutinized the page. “Ho! Hy recognize dot! Hy broke dot!” He flipped another page. “Oooh! Hy see! Dey vos vorkink on dot! Tryink to make dem ‘independently viable.’ ” He looked down at the dead weasel. “Dese must be some new type!” Tarvek stared down at the priceless, squirming kits and hoped he’d be able to fit them all into his pockets.

  He couldn’t, as it turned out, but the last few fit into Jorgi’s pockets quite handily. As they continued onward, nearing the entrance, a different type of shudder ran through the floor, accompanied by a growing set of dull booms. “Hey, boss . . . ”

  “I hear it,” Tarvek snarled.

  “Eef hyu just leef me here—”

  “No! We’re almost out. Nothing here is explosive.”

  Jorgi shook his head. “Dose dun sound like explosions.”

  “You’re an expert?”

  “Sure. Hyu bust op enough schtuff, you learns vhat it sounds like vhen it breaks. Nope. Dot’s a monster ting. Beeg vun too.”

  Tarvek tried to speed up even more. “That giant wasp eater?”

  “Wrong direction.”

  “Maybe another one?”

  Jorgi looked worried. “Hy sure hopes not. Dot ting vos krenky mean. Vhy hyu schmott guys vant something like dot around ennyvays?”

  Tarvek bit back the obvious answer and tried to think like a sane person. It was difficult. “I . . . I don’t know. The little ones are already good against the wasps—they’ll snap up the swarmers and mob the warriors—but that thing you guys went up against was big enough to take on—”

  A huge creature that looked equal parts grasshopper and machine burst through a wall, saw them, and shrieked. It struggled through the hole it had made, lashing out at them with arms like serrated spears. Once free, it lunged towards them, it’s horrible maw gaping wide.

  “A hive queen! Bren had a hive queen?”

  “Ho!” Jorgi laughed in delight, “Keepink dot odder ting makes perfect sense now!” He ble
w out a gust of air. “Glad ve got dot cleared op before ve died.”

  But, to Jorgi’s astonishment, they were not dead. Tarvek was actually running, still carrying Ruxala, Jorgi, notebooks, wasp eater, and kittens, while barely avoiding the queen’s attempts to stab them. “This is ridiculous,” he screamed as he ran. “Hive queens are supposed to be sessile! This is not fair!”

  The wasp eater had clambered back up and draped itself over Tarvek’s shoulder, snarling and shrieking at the top of its voice.

  Jorgi considered the thing behind them. “Hey! Hy bets a bug dis beeg vould make a nize bug pie! Ven hyu iz done vit it, ken hy gets a couple ov de legs? Hy ken makes a beeg pie und feed a whole bunch’a guys! Hy iz a pretty goot cook! I’ll giff hyu some und hyu vill see!”

  “You weigh less when you’re not talking,” Tarvek screamed.

  Jorgi laughed. “In philosophy, ve calls dot a logical fallacy. Ooh! Hyu iz almost to de door! Iz behind dot giant wall ov flame . . . hy tink.” At this point, Tarvek was willing to accept the consequences of there being no door at all and leapt into the flames without hesitation—

  Only to burst free into the clean, cool air of Mechanicsburg. To his horror, the square before him was crowded with dozens of people. Without slowing down, he roared, “What are you people doing here? RUN!” Seconds later, the queen burst out of the burning airship behind him with a crash.

  “Whoa,” Jorgi murmured. “Dot ting iz schtill comink after us.”

  “What?” Tarvek felt himself finally begin to stagger. “What is wrong with that stupid thing? Some of those people standing around here look delicious!”

  A chitinous lance shattered cobblestones scant centimeters behind them. Tarvek spotted a narrow alley ahead. Maybe it’ll be too big to follow, he thought. It was an idea that might well have worked, if a squad of children, armored in assorted bits of strapped-on kitchen gear, hadn’t materialized to block the alley entrance, waving wooden swords and bits of pipe.