by Phil Foglio
Veilchen shook his head. “No—you’re an old hand down here. Surely you have some trick up your sleeve? Some trade secret?”
The plumber snorted. “Wish I did. My partner now, he was always better at this sort of thing.”
Veilchen sighed. “Well then...” He pulled a compact air gun from inside his cloak and fired it upwards. A small grappling hook soared over the dimly seen lip of the pit and out of sight. Veilchen pulled the rope, set the hook and then shimmied upwards. Before anyone else could blink, he pulled the rope up behind him as he disappeared.
The others realized what had happened and looked at each other in astonishment.
Sturvin sighed deeply. “You know, I keep meaning to get one of those things.”
Zeetha looked upwards hopefully. “I don’t suppose there’s the slightest chance that he’s gone to get help.”
Maxim chuckled. “Ho, no vay! He left uz here to die! Vot a pro!”
Krosp snorted. “Yeah, well your ‘pro’ forgot something important.”
A second passed and Veilchen’s head popped over the lip of the pit. “Like what?” he demanded.
Krosp smiled. “Like why we’re all down here in this pit to begin with.”
A glowing tentacle dropped around the assassin’s throat. “Whoops,” Veilchen admitted. “Gotta go.” And he was jerked from sight. A series of screams and roars erupted from above the pit.
“Now what?” Zeetha asked.
“Dependz on who vins op dere,” Maxim replied cheerfully.
“How will we know that?” Zeetha asked.
Maxim patted a surprised Krosp on the head. “Dot’s simple! Ven der noize shtops, ve toss de kitty op dere, and he’ll tell us!”
“And if there’re still monsters up there?” Krosp demanded.
“Jump down! Hy’m sure sumvun vill ketch hyu.”
“At this point, I will be favorably disposed to some other plan,” Krosp declared.
Ognian held up a hand. “Hey! Iz qviet,” he announced.
“Is that good?” Lars whispered.
Overhead, about a dozen monsters leaned into sight and examined them hungrily.
“Guess not,” Lars muttered. Above, the monsters surged forward trying to leap into the hole. This caused a blockage, and a small fight broke out amongst them. This was to be expected, as monsters have poor conflict resolution skills.
Ognian picked up his halberd and spun it about, limbering up. “Hey!” he said with a grin, “Howzabout ve keel enough monsters dot ve ken climb out over der bodies?”
“That’s your plan?” Lars demanded.
Zeetha slid her swords from their scabbards and gave the Jäger a nod. “Under the circumstances, that’s a pretty good plan.”
Lars shook his head. “I’m with Krosp on this, I want another plan.”
“I got one.”
Everyone jerked their heads up in surprise. A block in the wall about three meters up had slid aside, and Kalikoff waved at them before tossing down a rope. “Come on up! Hurry!”
Sturvin grinned. “Man, I wondered where you were!”
Several minutes later, they were trudging along a stone gallery. Along one side was a series of openings that revealed a large causeway below, illuminated by faintly glowing green spheres. These stretched off in both directions until they were out of sight.
Lars sidled up to Kalikoff. “So, no offense, but the last time I saw you—” he made chomping motions with his hands.
The shorter man waved a hand airily. “Oh that.” He fished out a bizarre looking multiplex knife. “Thank my Official Sturmhalten Sewer Rat Knife.” He flicked his hand, and a screwdriver appeared. Flicked it again, and a small saw blade slid out. Once more, and a small sword clicked into place. A final snap, and they all slid back into place.
“Wow,” Lars breathed. “Where can I get one of those?”
Kalikoff shrugged apologetically. “Sorry man, you gotta be a Sturmhalten Sewer Rat. It’s a union thing.”
“I’ll join.”
Up ahead, Sturvin was studying his map, and frowning.
“So where are we?” asked Krosp.
“Not in a damn oubliette,” the plumber snapped, “So I’d say anywhere is a big improvement.”
Kalikoff chimed in. “I don’t know either.”
Ognian glanced out a window. “Hy s’poze ve could ask dem,” he pointed.
Below, a procession of Geisterdamen marched silently by. There were easily hundreds of them. Phalanxes strode eight abreast, escorted heavily-laden wagons being pulled by bizarre animals that were like pale wolves, but with a dozen glowing eyes. Interspaced between these were troops of the gigantic white spiders. All of the ghostly women were fully armed, either with their slim curved swords, tall, crescent-moon bladed spears, or both.
Ognian found a half dozen hands covering his mouth.
“Where are they going?” whispered Lars.
Kalikoff whispered back. “Some of the old records mention ancient caverns, down beyond the Deep-down. There’s supposed to be strange things living there—” he gazed at the passing ghost women. “I thought it was made up,” he sighed.
Sturvin gazed down at them. “Man, there’s gotta be hundreds of them. S’a damn army.”
“Dey’s actink like dey’s guardink sumting,” Dimo mused. “Sumting impawtent.”
Below them, several wagons containing machinery trundled past. None of the group could have been expected to recognize the components of The Other’s mind transfer device.
“So they had some sort of base under Sturmhalten,” Zeetha realized. “A good place to hide. No wonder no one ever knew where they came from. But why are they leaving?”
“The old Prince is dead,” Lars breathed. “I’ll bet he was their protector or something.”
Krosp was staring at the last wagon of machinery as it moved on past. “There’s something about that stuff that looks familiar,” he grumbled. “I wonder what it’s for?”
“Hy tink Hy know,” said Ognian in a strangled voice, “And in der Master’s name, keep qviet!”
The others looked back and shuddered into silence. A series of huge, misshapen creatures, larger than oxen and covered in spines and writhing tentacles, lumbered forward. Strapped to the wooden carts that groaned behind them, were a series of large glass and metal spheres, covered with softly glowing dials and gauges. Behind the thick glass, undefined shapes roiled endlessly within a thick, oily liquid.
A squad of Geisterdamen marched grimly alongside each one, and a single pale warrior stood atop each sphere, easily high enough to look into the windows of the gallery. Instantly the group flung themselves to the ground and huddled beneath the openings as the great mechanisms rolled on by.
“Doze iz Slaver Engines,” Ognian growled.
Lars spasmed in place. “Slaver—You mean like revenant wasps?”
“Ho yez.”
Maxim sidled up to Dimo. “Der Baron gots to hear ’bout dis,” he said grimly.
“Agreed.”
“Ken ve keep Miz Agatha out uv dis?”
Dimo gave a single, silent laugh. “Ask me ven ve find her. Eef ve effer gets out uv here.”
Maxim gave the green Jäger a light punch on the arm. “Patience, brodder. Soon ve gets lucky.”
It was about a half an hour later. The procession had finally passed. The group had headed back up towards the way from which the Geisterdamen had come.
This had brought them to what could only be called a town. It was in a large cavern, stone facades and galleries were carved from the living rock, with the occasional incongruous wooden building. The rooms, as well as quite a lot of the rock wall, had been carved into sensuous, flowing designs, which had been painted in a variety of colors.
Most of the space seemed to be either communal living quarters or animal pens. A large central courtyard contained a fountain, which was adorned by a statue obviously representing a long-haired woman cuddling a child.
Ognian appeared at the entrance to the
courtyard. “Okeh,” he announced. “Hy followed dem a lonk vay down. Dey din’t even leave a rearguard, and dey vas collectink all de lemps as they passed.”
Maxim nodded. “Voteffer dey din take, hit looks like dey burned.” He indicated a score of smoldering heaps littering the yard. “Hy dun tink deys cummin’ beck.”
Lars appeared. “Not only that, but it looks like any tunnel that might go upwards has been collapsed.”
“They didn’t collapse everything,” Sturvin said pointing upwards. Small holes could be seen in the ceiling. “The smoke from these fires is gettin’ sucked up somewhere.”
“Effen if ve got op dere, Hy dun tink ve’d fit.” Ognian scowled. “Mebbe ve better follow der Geisters.”
“That’s our last resort,” Zeetha retorted. “It looked like they were heading deeper underground, and we’re lost already.”
Sturvin agreed. “We are so off our maps.”
“Maybe we should just pick a direction,” Lars suggested, pointing to a number of dark openings. “I mean how big can these tunnels be?”
Maxim let out a guffaw. “Hey, Oggie? Remember de Unseen Empire?”
The other Jäger’s grin lit up the darkness. “Yah! Dose guys vit der lava cannons! Jeez, dot vas vot—a hunnert years ago? Mebbe more...”
“Ve vas mit der Red Heterodyne den,” Maxim reminded him.
“Goot fighting!” Oggie remembered.
“Yah, but hit took uz two years to get outta dose caverns.”
“Two years?” Lars gasped.
“Vell, hit should have taken vun,” Maxim conceded, “But de Master, he develop a taste for bat sammiches.”
“Dot nut,” Ognian smiled wistfully.
“Hey!” Kalikoff called from another doorway. “Get over here! We found something!”
The “something” proved to be a large door. It was blocked off by a pile of broken furniture and other debris. “It was hidden behind all this junk,” Kalikoff explained. “But there’s a strong breeze coming from underneath it. I’m thinking it’s a way out that they closed off.”
Lars frowned.” All the other ways out they collapsed.”
Dimo grinned. “Jah, but dis schtuff haz been here qvite awhile. Hy tink dey pile dis schtuff up here an’ forgets all about de door.” He shrugged. “Dey used to lose rooms and guests in Castle Heterodyne like dot all der time.”
In short order, everyone had dragged away enough of the blocking material that Maxim and Ognian was able to drag the door open with a rusty squeal. Maxim wrinkled his nose. “Fregh! Veird schmell in here,” he reported.
The large stone chamber was filled with tall rusting metal pots, each of them easily two meters tall and several meters in diameter. The outer walls were coated with a layer of slime. Various tables and benches covered with bottles and dusty bits of machinery instantly identified the room’s purpose.
“Iz an old Spark’s lab,” Maxim said.
“You think so?” Lars eyed it skeptically.
“Ho yez,” Maxim assured him. “Hit’s got dot feelink uv bad krezy.” Lars looked at him. Maxim shrugged. “Hyu learn to recognize it.”
“Man,” Sturvin complained. “This place smells like a swamp.” His foot crunched on a pile of broken glass. “Someone really trashed it, too.”
Ognian frowned as he looked around. “Hy dun see nottink vorth barricading dis place over. Not ennymore, ennyvay.”
Dimo stepped through a doorway. “Dere’s anodder whole cavern back dere. Fulla more machinery, too... uh oh.”
Instantly Ognian was at his side. “Someting is moffink out dere,” he sang out.
From a large vat, a glowing bubble arose, it continued to expand until dozens of eyes cleared the lip and focused on the Jägers. When it saw them, tentacles slid over the edge and began to advance. Several similar creatures arose from nearby containers.
“And that’s why the door was barricaded,” Sturvin pronounced glumly.
Ognian eyed the slowly moving creatures skeptically. “Dose tings? Dey dun look like moch.”
Maxim smacked him in the back of the head. “Oh now hyu iz just askink for it,” he snarled.
“And he’s got it,” Krosp yelled. The group spun to see that the vats they’d strolled past were now disgorging swarms of smaller glowing creatures. They looked like small, fat, gelatinous pillows, with two stumpy legs. A single pale stalk sprouted from their heads.
“Aww,” Ognian protested, “Dey iz cute.” All the stalks swiveled towards him.
Zeetha moved away from him. “They closed the lab off rather than fight them,” she reminded him in a soft voice.
“Hey! Hey!” Sturvin called out from the corner. “An elevator! Since the room was sealed off, it looks like they didn’t disable it!”
“But...” Lars looked up the shaft. “Where does it go?”
“Anywhere but here is looking mighty good,” Krosp snapped. “Everybody! Get on!”
Dimo watched as the creatures wobbled slowly in their direction. “Listen to der kitty. Hy dun like dese tings!”
Kalikoff examined the control panel and swore. “The controls are locked!” He snapped open his knife and attacked the panel. “Gimme a second.”
Dimo looked back at the creatures. One of them shuffled ahead of the rest. It swiveled its stalk towards the worried Jägermonster. Instinctively, Dimo raised his left hand in front of his face, which was why the thin, barbed tentacle that shot from the stalk stung his hand, and not his face.
Astonishingly, Dimo screamed, and stumbled backwards aboard the elevator, just as Kalikoff wrenched a restraining bolt free. A fat spark jumped, and the entire elevator shivered.
“Everybody better be on,” Sturvin yelled as he threw a lever, “’Cause we’re going up!” With a jolt, the elevator cage began to rise. There was a soft pattering, as several dozen of the little barbed tendrils smacked into the bottom of the lift.
Ognian leaned over a kneeling Dimo, who looked up at him with agony on his face. “Dat ting got me mit poison,” he spat.
Ognian bit his lip. “Iz bad?”
“Very bad,” Dimo spoke through clenched teeth. “Hy ken feel it moffink op my arm! Hurry!”
Ognian stood up. With a flick of his fingers, the gigantic halberd spun in place, faster than the eye could follow. He then stopped it instantly, held out his hand, and caught Dimo’s arm as it dropped from above.
Dimo’s eyes closed and he let out a strangled scream before collapsing to the ground.
“You cut his arm off?” Lars asked horrified.
Ognian examined it critically. “Dis vas der correct vun, jah?”
Suddenly his face twisted as the severed arm began to liquefy, oozing out of the sleeve onto the floor. Ognian dropped it with a look of relief. “Yop. Dot vas it.”
Meanwhile, Maxim was already applying a tourniquet to the stump of Dimo’s arm. Ognian leaned in solicitously. “How hyu doink now, brodder?”
With a hiss, Dimo tentatively released the death grip he’d maintained on his upper arm. Maxim eyed the wrapping he’d applied, and gave a nod of approval. Dimo managed a shaky grin. “Better, Oggie, tenk hyu. Dot vas a goot cut.”
Ognian let out a deep gust of breath and grinned back.
“Remind me,” Lars said in a weak voice, “to never tell you guys I have a headache.”
With a groan, the elevator came to a stop. Everyone looked out. A faint chemical light flickered, revealing an empty platform, and what they realized was—
“It’s another elevator,” Kalikoff declared. “This is just a transfer stage. We must be really deep if one elevator wasn’t enough.”
“Does it look safe?” Krosp tentatively patted a paw on the new elevator’s dusty metal floor.
“Hy suppose ve ken dizcuss it vile ve vaits to see if doze poisontings ken climb,” Maxim said archly.
“Everybody get on!” Sturvin ordered.
“Let me give you a hand,” Zeetha offered, then looked stricken. “Uh—sorry.”
To her
surprise, the Jäger laughed. “Ho! A joke!” He saw her distress and waved his hand. “Dun vorry, dollink. Hy iz not dead. Efferyting else ken be fixed!”
Sturvin threw the lever, and with a squeal, the lift began climbing upwards past endless walls of blasted rock.
“Fixed by whom?” Zeetha asked. “Lars once said that the Jägers don’t let doctors near them, even if they’re wounded. He says that you’re waiting for a Heterodyne to fix you up.”
Dimo eyed a preoccupied Lars. “Huh. Dot vun, he knows hiz stories,” he conceded.
Maxim waved his mechanical arm. “Iz true. Sum uf uz have vaited for a very lonk time.”
Ognian draped an arm over Dimo’s shoulder. “Yah! But lucky for Dimo, ve got—”
Zeetha didn’t see Dimo’s arm move, but suddenly his fist was buried in Ognian’s midsection. The Jäger gasped and dropped to the ground. “Hokay!” Dimo said brightly, “Right arm? Schtill feelin’ goot! Tenks, Oggie!”
From the floor, Ognian wheezed, “S’okeh, brodder.”
Sturvin called out. “Pay attention, people. We’re nearing the top. We don’t know what’s up here.”
As it turned out, there was disappointingly little. It was evidently just another platform stage, but the other elevator had been disabled by the crude, but effective, method of filling the shaft with large rocks.
“No way we can clear this,” Kalikoff declared with finality.
“But—but we can’t go down again,” Lars said. “The lift is too noisy. Those things will be waiting.”
“Ve could climb down,” Maxim suggested.
“But Dimo—”
“Aw, he bounce pretty goot.”
The subject of this discussion slumped to the floor, and gingerly rubbed his shoulder. “Eediots,” he muttered. “Ve must find anodder vay. Miz Agatha—”
“—Is a Heterodyne?” Zeetha asked quietly.
Dimo froze, and then gave a forced chuckle. “Vot? Dot’s krezy tok.”
“One of you is always near her,” Zeetha said flatly.
Dimo rolled his eyes. “She safe uz. Ve gots to pay her beck.”
“And so you did. On the bridge to Passholdt.”