by Phil Foglio
Gil turned about and examined the layout of the shop. His brows rose at several of the heavier pieces of machinery. “Nice set up.” He gestured at the quiescent clank. “This could easily have been built here.”
Klaus had knelt down and turned Moloch over onto his back. He smiled in satisfaction. “So this is our new Spark.”
“It could be the girl, Father.”
Klaus sniffed. “Hmf. Don’t you recognize her?”
With a feeling of embarrassment, Gil glanced at the scantily clad girl. She was tall, and full-figured, and her long reddish-blonde hair covered her face. Suddenly his eyes narrowed and he knelt by her side. He gently brushed the hair from her face. There was a smear of grease across her small nose. “The student assistant in Beetle’s lab! Miss… Clay.” He glanced at a delivery wagon which had “CLAY MECHANICAL” neatly painted along the side. “I see.”
Klaus nodded. “Yes, decorative, but evidently damaged. Held in contempt by those she worked with. Obviously not what we are looking for.” An unexpected movement caught Klaus attention. Gil was removing his waistcoat. “What are you doing?”
Gil nodded towards the unconscious girl. “I was just going to cover her up.”
Klaus nodded approvingly. “Commendable, but your waistcoat will do little. Here.” Effortlessly he lifted Moloch, stripped off his greatcoat and handed it over. “I’m sure they’ll not mind.”
Gil looked up as he tucked the coat over Agatha. “Oh?”
Klaus stood up. “Yes, it all falls into place. The girl was truly upset at Beetle’s death. Her soldier lover had recently returned home and her agitation was enough to trigger a breakthrough, and he built this clank for her.”
Gil arched an eyebrow. “Lover?”
Klaus frowned at Gil. “You don’t find the fact that the girl is running about in a machine shop in her underwear to be unusual? Red Fire, boy, what sort of laboratory did you maintain at school?”
Gil blushed. The Jägersoldiers guffawed. “Father! Please!”
The faintest hint of a smile twitched at the edge of Klaus’ mouth. “Very well. What would you do now?”
Gil gratefully turned to the question. He gestured to the two figures on the floor. “Ideally? Talk to them, but what with the C-Gas, we must assume that they’ll be out for at least thirty-six hours. So…” He thought for a second and then wheeled about to face the silent clank. “Examine the device?”
Klaus sighed. “No, no no! You must get your priorities straight. Examining the clank is important, but it can wait.” He gestured to the room at large. “What is missing here?” He pointed to Moloch. “This fellow is still travel-stained. The shop is not run by the girl…”
Gil nodded. “The owner! Her parents, the Clays. Where are they?”
One of the Jägermonsters who had been sent to search the house stepped forward. “Dere ain’t nobody else in de house, Herr Baron.”
Klaus nodded. “They’ll tell you much, when you find them.” Klaus had turned away and was examining the workbench with professional interest.
Gil frowned. “Well that should be easy enough.”
Klaus had found a set of micrometers and was evidently impressed by the workmanship. “Yes, no doubt,” he said absently, he found the case and turned it over until he found the maker’s mark, and Gil knew that he was memorizing the information.
The Empire always needed good toolmakers. If he was any judge of workmanship, the Clays would find themselves hired as well. Gil sensed there was something different about his father now, but was unsure as to what it was. One would never use the word “slumped” when thinking about Klaus Wulfenbach, but the energy he had exhibited earlier in the morning seemed diminished.
Gil continued. “The clank will be transported to the University and your new Spark—”
Klaus had carefully replaced the tools on the workbench and turned back to his son. “Both of them will return with us to Castle Wulfenbach.”
Gil blinked. “The girl as well?”
“Yes. If they are indeed lovers, she’ll be an additional lever. If she is merely an exhibitionist, we’ll send her back.”
“Her parents might not like that.”
Klaus walked outside and surveyed the neighborhood. “They’ll take her back anyway.”
Gil followed him outside. “That’s not what I meant. Father, what’s wrong? You seem… disappointed.”
Klaus nodded. “I am. I was hoping for something… interesting. All we have here is a sordid little tale of revenge and manipulation, set up and solved.” He took a deep breath and stretched, then clapped his son on the back, to the surprise of all present. “But it was a good bit of morning exercise and he is a new Spark, and those are always useful. However, while it is fortuitous, it is hardly urgent.” He then dropped his hand and began to stride down the street. He called back over his shoulder, “I must finish consolidating our takeover of the town. I’m sure you can finish up here on your own.”
Caught by surprise, several of the Jägers who had been stationed outside pelted up alongside the Baron, the eldest said, “I vill assign you two—”
Klaus waved him off. “I will go by myself. Let the people see that I can.”
The Jägers stopped and watched as the Baron strode around the corner and out of sight. The senior Jäger muttered, “Hokey, fine, diz iz vun a dose moods, izit?” He turned to two of the soldiers with him. “Dey make great coffee back vhere der Baron is going. Go get me some. Und dun let him see hyu.”
The two monstermen looked offended, slung their weapons over their shoulders and, faster then one would think possible, scaled the building across the street and were silently leaping across the rooftops. Shaking his head, the officer returned to a fuming Gilgamesh.
“Oh thank you, sir. Yes I’m sure that even I can deal with this.” Gil sighed. “Well, let’s get started.”
Gil and the senior Jäger entered the building. As the elder soldier got his first whiff of the interior, he started, and looked around in surprise. Gil noticed. “Something wrong, Günther?”
The Jägermonster looked at him blankly. One of the younger soldiers piped up. “D’pipple who liff here. Dey schmell fonny.”
Almost faster than Gil could follow, Günther scooped up a chunk of lead pipe and threw it at the younger soldier, catching him between the eyes. He blinked. “Ow. Vat for hyu—?”
Günther roared at him, stunning him into silence. “Hey! Hyu iz in schombodies howz! Iz not goot manners to say dey schmells fonny!” The rest of the Jägersoldiers gawped at the elder monster in astonishment. This was a new one.
Gil bore down on the younger soldier. “‘Funny’? Like how?”
Günther glared at the younger monster over Gil’s shoulder. The recipient of this glare was nonplussed. Lying was easy, but it was always good to know what you were lying about. “Um… ahh… like… like machines or someting?”
Günther nodded in satisfaction and spoke up. “Vell, dey iz mechanics, you dumbkoff!”
Gil looked unconvinced. He pointed to Agatha. “Does she smell ‘funny’?”
The Jägers clustered around and leaned forward. “She schmells goot.”
Gil nodded. “All right, I—”
Another Jäger interrupted him. “She schmells really goot.” The others joined in. “Really really goot.”
Gil flushed and turned away. “Yes, yes, that’s quite enough! Now get that wagon ready.”
Reluctantly the soldiers began unloading machinery from the Clays’ wagon. Gil failed to notice Günther still kneeling by Agatha’s side, a stunned look on his hirsute face as he remembered a large familiar face he had seen on his way here. Absently, his hand clutched at a small object on a chain around his neck…
Quickly he snapped back to attention and approached Gil. “Hey. Hyu vants me to get schome of her clothing und schtuff? Or ve gun let her run around the kessel in her undervear?” The accompanying leer suggested that this last would be a fine idea.
Again Gil reddened
and turned away. “Yes. I mean, yes, as in go get her some clothing.” He looked over at Moloch. “And see if there’s anything of his lying around as well.”
Turned away, he missed the look of satisfaction that crossed Günther’s face. “Hokay, your loss, boss.”
Meanwhile others were preparing to load Agatha and Moloch into the wagon. “Don’t drop him on his head, he’s a schmott guy.” A loud thump followed. “Vell, at least dat vasn’t his head.”
An argument broke out over Agatha. “I vant to pick op de gurl.”
“No! Hyu vay too clumsy. I peek op de gurl.”
“Me!”
“Me!”
“Me!”
“ME!”
Gil stepped into the middle and roared. “Shut up! I’ll do it!”
The Jägermonsters looked abashed. “Vell hyu dun gotta get cranky over it,” one muttered. Gil knelt down and gently picked Agatha up.
Instantly the tractor clank lurched to life and the great metal hand flashed out towards an astonished Gil, who felt himself jerked backwards as a Jägersoldier swept him away. The hand plowed into the monster soldier, throwing him back against the far wall, where he slumped to the floor. Gil managed to keep both his balance and Agatha in his arms as he hit the floor. The smoking device wheeled towards him. “Clanks!” He yelled, “Contain it!”
The two tall Wulfenbach clanks rushed in through the doorway and plowed into the side of the engine, slamming it against the wall. But after a second the greater weight of the more primitive engine allowed it to gain better traction, and it slowly began to force itself back up despite the best efforts of the two other machines. Gil circled around, heading for the rear of the rogue engine. “If I can get to the control unit—”
Then one of the Jägers yelled, “Stend beck!” Gil glanced back and froze in horror. Three of the Jägermonsters had manhandled one of the Wulfenbach clank’s massive three-meter machine cannons into firing position. “I alvays vanted to try dis,” one shouted.
“NOOOO!!” screamed Gil, even as he dived for the floor, desperately trying to shield Agatha.” With a roar that was only magnified by the enclosed space, a stream of shells poured forth, the first few indeed hit the struggling clank, but the rest sprayed wildly around the room. The stream of fire stabilized only long enough to completely demolish one of the Wulfenbach clanks before the shooting stopped.
Gil dared to look up and saw that the recoil of the cannon had smashed the Jäger manning the trigger, as well as the last quarter of the gun itself, into the wall. The other two, their clothing on fire and their hats in tatters, looked sheepish. “Ho! Leedle recoil problem dere, sir.” One of the standing soldiers grinned. “Pretty neat though, jah?”
Meanwhile the iron clank had thrown its lighter opponent into a pile of debris, and as the Wulfenbach clank struggled to regain its feet, swiveled about and, despite a shattered leg joint, again headed for the two humans. “The control unit on the back,” Gil yelled, “you must be sure to—”
The other remaining Jäger grabbed his gun. “Hoy! Got’cha!”
Circling around behind the crippled machine, he scrambled atop some boxes and launched himself over the stumbling clank. The zenith of his arc carried him over the bullet-shaped control mechanism and as he passed he pointed his weapon downward and fired a charge into it at point blank range. The resulting explosion completely obliterated Gil’s plaintive, “—Not destroy it… never mind.”
The clank and the soldier hit the ground at the same moment, the one to twitch and vent gouts of steam, the other to pose dramatically, to the approbation of his fellows.
The lone note of disapproval came from Gil, but this was turned upon himself. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! My father is going to—”
The leaping Jägermonster looked offended. “Vot did ve do now?”
“Not you, me!”
“Hah?”
Gil kicked at the cooling clank at his feet. “The clank activated to protect its master! Why wasn’t I ready—”
The Jägersoldier interrupted. “But ve got him into de vagon mit no problem. It didn’t move until—ow!” The “ow” was caused by a flying wrench smashing into his nose, thrown by Günther, who had re-entered the room, clutching a large valise.
“What for you hit me in the nose?”
“Cause you all de time yakking like an eediot!” Günther pointed towards the corner, where the Wulfenbach clank was still foundering awkwardly amidst the debris. “Get dat clenk op, hyu fools, or do hyu vanna pull de vagon tro de strits?” That caused the rest of the monsters to quickly begin hauling the great clank back to its feet.
Gil ignored this interplay, as he was struck motionless by the thoughts triggered by the logic of the Jägermonster’s words. With a quick shake of his head, he dismissed the idea. His father had said—
“Hey, hyu gun carry dat gurl all day?”
With a start Gil realized that he was clutching the unconscious girl tightly in his arms. He looked up into the leering face of Günther. Awkwardly he handed her over and, lost in his thoughts, failed to notice the excessive care with which the old soldier placed her in the wagon and covered her up with Moloch’s coat. “Ve’s ready to go, sir,” he announced.
Gil looked up. “Pick one of you to wait here for the owners and the crews to collect the clanks.” He glanced over at the steaming ruin. “We might still be able to learn something. When the owners get here, have them lock the place up and bring them to me. Assure them we’ll pay for any damages.”
After the inevitable game of sock-paper-scissors, the Jäger who had allowed himself to be socked slouched against the doorway rubbing his nose as the wagon began to roll out.
Gil suddenly yelled, “Stop!” The Jägers looked at him in surprise as he scrambled aboard the wagon and bent over the two unconscious figures. Gently he lifted Agatha’s hands and examined them closely. Though she had scrubbed them, there were still ample amounts of grease and oil under her fingernails and embedded within the lines of her palms.
A similar inspection of Moloch’s hands revealed grime, yes, but no evidence that the owner had recently worked with heavy machinery.
Thoughtfully, Gil climbed back out of the wagon. After a moment he indicated that it was to move on without him. Günther protested, “Hyu poppa vould skeen us alife! Und I dun meen dat in a goot vay.”
“What would he do if he found out you’d assigned him guards after he told you not to?” The two appraised each other. Gil waved his hand. “I’m just going to walk a bit behind. You can keep an eye on me.” Günther nodded reluctantly and the wagon started off.
As they pulled ahead of Gil, Günther whispered fiercely to the others, “Dun mention notting about dis mawnink. Not de fonny schmells, not the clenk schtarting op, notting! Dis iz schtoff for de generals.”
The others looked surprised. “Hokay.” they agreed. Günther nodded in satisfaction and looked at the young man following the wagon, a look of concentration on his features. The young master was going to be trouble enough.
CHAPTER 4
Hide the women! Hide the beer!
The Baron’s great big thing is here!
It’s huge and fat and long and round
And you can see it from the ground.
It flies way high up in the air
He rides it here, he rides it there.
And every mad boy lives in fear
That Klaus will stick it in his ear.
—Popular tavern song
Agatha blinked and stretched. Her mouth tasted metallic. She opened her eyes fully and stared at the ceiling, something was different. The light—
Suddenly a hand roughly clasped itself over her mouth. Her eyes jerked around and saw that the hand belonged to the soldier who had appeared in her father’s shop. A sudden surge of memories, as well as the current situation made her twist and flail about.
Moloch dropped forward, pinning her arms to the bed. “Quiet!” he hissed. “Quiet! I’m not gonna hurt you unless I gotta—but
I will if you act stupid!” With this he tightened his grip upon Agatha’s face. Having little choice, she froze, and then sagged. Her eyes stared at Moloch like those of a frightened animal. The hand relaxed slightly. He continued. “Now I’m gonna take my hand away. I’m giving you one chance. Don’t Blow It.”
After a second, he released her face. Agatha licked her lips, but said nothing. Moloch relaxed slightly, but still pinned her arms. Agatha noted that he had been cleaned up, his beard trimmed, and an attempt had been made on his hair, but it was the sort of hair that defeated anything but an all out tonsorial assault.
He was dressed in a large sturdy labcoat, which Agatha realized she had seen on Wulfenbach staffers that had visited the late Dr. Beetle’s lab.
When she still did nothing, Moloch continued. “Good. Now listen. We’ve been taken prisoner by Baron Wulfenbach.”
Agatha frowned. “Why?”
Encouraged by this response, Moloch sat back, allowing Agatha to sit up on the bed and rub her arms. “Because of that clank I’m supposed to have built back in Beetleburg.”
“You built that clank?”
Moloch snorted. “Of course not! But the Baron thinks I did, and I’m not going to tell Baron Wulfenbach that he made a mistake. So I’m his madboy until I can make a break for it.”
Agatha saw the wisdom in this, but—”What does he want you to do?”
Moloch looked up at her with grim humor in his eyes. “He wants me to build him some more clanks. He wants to see what I can do in a real lab with proper materials.”
Agatha cocked an eyebrow and her mouth twitched upwards. “Ho. You do have a problem.”
Moloch observed the smirk and he leaned forward in satisfaction. “We have a problem, sweetheart. He also thinks you’re my little assistant.”
“What!” There was no way Agatha wanted to get involved in anything like this. She leapt up and threw open the door. “Forget it! You can just get out and—”
It was a soft “woo!” from the outer room that brought her up short. Turning her head, she saw that the door opened out into a large common room. Easily two dozen people, mostly children, along with a sprinkling of young adults, were casually gathered around several long tables which were set for a meal. All eyes were riveted upon Agatha. A sudden cool breeze dragged her eyes downward to reveal to her that she was dressed in naught but her underclothes. With a squeak she slammed the door closed and, blushing furiously, turned upon a grinning Moloch.