by Kaja Foglio
Saturn’s sons—known to the World as the Heterodyne Boys—had not been raised in the Castle. This is an important factor to consider when examining their reasons for abandoning the long-held traditions of the Heterodyne family. Even before their father’s death, attentive townspeople had been aware that, soon enough, a new wind would be blowing.
But talk is one thing, and action another. Contemporary written accounts show that the razing of the flesh yards, along with the beginnings of the Great Hospital in their place, came as a rude shock to a large part of the populace.
There was grumbling. Resistance. It was the fear that members of any group will experience when a familiar, established order comes to an end for reasons they cannot understand. Never, in the long history of Mechanicsburg, had the populace come as close to outright rebellion against their Masters.
But the linchpins of the Heterodyne’s power held. The Jägermonsters stayed loyal. The Dyne still flowed. The von Mekkhan family stood with the new Master. And above them all, the Castle loomed, waiting to crush any who disobeyed.
Mechanicsburg evolved.
—Nurture Over Nature: The Story of the Heterodyne Boys (Part 1) What Went Right? by Professoressa Kaja Foglio/ Transylvania Polygnostic University Press
Agatha waited a moment, listening in the silence. “Yes, I think that did it,” she finally said, with a sigh of relief.
Professor Mezzasalma clattered over to the device Agatha had activated and studied it intently. He looked up in amazement. “It’s the Lion,” he said. “But you smashed it!”
“I only smashed one big showy bit. Once I had the other parts, it was easy enough to rework the design and reassemble it in such a way that the Castle didn’t realize it could still work.”
“You shut down…the whole Castle?” asked Tarvek.
Gil’s eyes went wide. “Agatha! The Castle was the only thing keeping my father from just coming in here and grabbing you!” A fresh wave of weakness hit him, and he sank to the floor. Tarvek followed him and the two sat there, breathing hard for a moment.
Agatha bit her lip and signaled von Zinzer and Mezzasalma to help them back up. “It was keeping us from getting ourselves cured. It’s a broken mad automaton, remember? And it was becoming more and more irrational. I suspect that I was putting too much stress upon its cognitive faculties, and since they weren’t sufficiently integrated, it just couldn’t handle it. In my opinion, it was dangerously close to deciding that killing us all would have kept us ‘safe.’”
All the Sparks nodded. It was a problem endemic in the field of artificial intelligence.
Agatha continued. “We’ll just have to get the repairs done before the Baron realizes what’s happened.”
Gil waved his hands weakly. “We don’t know how long that could be! For all we know, there’s a giant red light flashing on the main tower right now!”
“That’s…unlikely,” Tarvek said grudgingly. “But we can’t count on having much time.”
Agatha sighed. “Tarvek, Gil, we’re already out of time,” she said. “We’ll work on getting the Castle back once we’re no longer about to die.
“Don’t worry. As far as the Castle goes, I’m reasonably sure that we can revive the whole thing, assuming we can get enough energy running through it.”
Von Zinzer stood by the lift, frowning down into the shaft. “I thought this was supposed to be the lowest level of the Castle,” he said. “What’s down there?”
Agatha stood by him and stared down into the darkness. There were lights down there. They were very faint, but flickering, and growing brighter. An odd look crossed her face, then she shook herself abruptly and turned away, knocking a chip of broken rock over the side. “One thing at a time. We’ve had too many distractions. First we cure ourselves, then we fight the World, then we get to explore. No more delays!”
Far below, the stone landed with a faint, bell-like ring. Seconds later, the lights flared, and a wild, mechanical scream of triumph echoed from the depths.
“FREEE!”
Agatha leaned over the edge and screamed back. “I said, ‘no more delays!’”
There was a crowd in the apartment. When Vanamonde arrived, the leaders of Mechanicsburg society paused in their whispered conversations and stepped aside to let him pass. In one corner, a smaller knot of close friends had gathered around Arella.
Van hurried to her side. “I came as soon as I heard, Mother. How is Grandfather?”
Arella smiled gamely. “He seems all right. He’s been asking for you.”
“What happened?”
Arella shrugged. “No one is sure. He just suddenly gave a shout, and collapsed in the middle of the Poisoner’s Market.”87
The doctor stepped out of the bedroom, rolling down her sleeves as she walked. “He seems more embarrassed than anything else,” she said to Van and his mother. “But he’s positively frantic to see you, so the sooner you get in there, the sooner he might actually rest.”
Van thanked her and stepped into his grandfather’s bedroom.
The seneschals of Mechanicsburg tended to live simply and Carson von Mekkhan certainly continued that tradition.
The main features of the room were an elegantly carved bed frame and two matching wardrobes. A small shrine—one of the few personal touches evident—held a single votive lamp before portraits of the old man’s late wife and son.
The former master of the city was propped up in the center of an enormous goose-down mattress. A fresh set of bandages covered his head. He was distracted, staring into the distance, nervously stroking the belly of the cat.
Van cleared his throat. “Grandfather?”
“Finally!” Carson looked relieved and shifted, sending the cat off in a resigned huff.
Van removed his frock coat and carefully sat down on the edge of the old man’s bed. He had to admit that the Doctor’s assessment matched his own. “So what happened?”
“That blasted heap of rubble!” Van knew to whom, or rather to what, his grandfather was referring. “All these years it must have had some kind of hold on me…”
Or maybe not. “Grandfather, what are you talking about?”
“The Castle,” the old man said flatly. “They’ve killed it.” He tapped his head. “I felt it die.” He stared back at his grandson defiantly.
Van considered this outrageous statement. “The Castle is…dead.”
“Yes.”
Vanamonde regarded his grandfather. “And you felt it die.”
“Yes!”
Van sighed and rested his elbows on his knees and allowed his head to sag forward. “Well,” he muttered. “That explains some things.”
Carson stared at him amazement. “You believe me?”
Van didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Oh, yes.”
“What’s happened?”
Van sat up straight and peaked his fingertips together. With a shock, Carson recognized the gesture as one that he himself used whenever he had to make a report.
“All the town clocks have stopped,” Van said quietly. “All of the fountains have stopped flowing. The bridges over the rivers no longer work, nor do the street and traffic signals.” He turned to face the old man. “Grandfather, where does the Castle end and Mechanicsburg begin?”
The two men stared at each other in silence. Van turned away. “Never mind. I think I’m beginning to guess…”
Carson looked at his grandson and allowed himself to sink back into his pillows. Awkwardly, he reached out and patted his grandson on the arm. “You were so young. You never really knew what it was like when the Castle was fully operational. You never saw the town really…really running.” Van raised his eyebrows. Carson snapped out of his reverie. “I’m sorry, my boy. The girl…she must have failed.” He closed his eyes. “I had…allowed myself to hope…”
Van looked at him in surprise. “Failed?” He seemed genuinely taken aback at the idea. “Agatha? Failed? No, I don’t think so.”
Carson’s eyes popped open
and he regarded his grandson with interest. Van shifted upon the bed. “I…No, I can’t really explain it, but…”
Carson began to smile. “But you can’t imagine her failing.”
Van thought about this, and began to look slightly alarmed. “No, I can’t.”
Carson nodded. “She’s your Heterodyne, all right.”
“But—”
“You’ll make a fine seneschal,” Carson declared with satisfaction.
Van snorted. “If I get the chance! We still don’t know what the Baron is doing. He’s kept most of his troops outside the walls. It’s obvious that he has some plan in motion to get his son out before he flattens the place, but we don’t know how that race is going.” He leapt to his feet, strode over to the window, and stared upwards at the Castle it framed.
“If he knows about this, he’ll…” Van began. “But does he know? Surely, if he knew that the Castle was dead, he’d…” He spun about and faced his grandfather. “But how could he not? He must know! It’s so obvious! And if he knows, then why hasn’t he already attacked?”
In the elegant gardens of the Inner Courtyard of the Great Hospital, a battle was taking place. Orderlies and nurses scurried frantically through the building, evacuating patients from rooms facing the open area.
The Baron’s enormous clank stood alone. Within the cockpit, smoke poured from a control panel, and one of the operators wiped a rivulet of blood from her eyes. She blinked at the console, which was covered with urgently blinking red lights.
“Status?” the Baron asked.
“Not good, Herr Baron,” she answered. “The hydraulics have ruptured, and we’re losing pressure in the left leg. I’m trying to shunt cooling fluid to—”
“INCOMING,” screamed the other operator. A massive blow landed upon the central torso. With a whine, the last of the gyroscopes spun into shards that ricocheted away across the lawns.
On the ground below, Bangladesh DuPree nodded grimly. “That did it! He’s going down!” She dashed forward, followed by a terrified squad of soldiers and medical technicians.
With a final groan of tortured metal, the great walker toppled backwards and crashed to the earth, throwing up a shockwave of soil and vegetation for several meters in all directions.
In the cockpit, The Baron struggled for consciousness. “No!” His speech was slurred, but there was no mistaking the desperate iron in his voice. “You can’t do this! There’s too much I have to do! I have to save my son.”
The center of a cloud of swirling smoke and dust seemed to coalesce into a shadowy figure, which leapt onto the fallen machine’s chest.
“You’re dooming all of Europa,” Klaus croaked. “I’m the only one who can do this. I have to save everything before she gets to me.”
The smoke cleared to reveal Dr. Sun. His elegant coat was tattered, and smoke curled up from his beard.
“Fool,” he declared scornfully. “You are saving nothing! Your delusions will kill you and destroy the Empire!” The Baron started to speak, and was cut off as Sun jabbed a large hypodermic deep into his chest. He shuddered once, and collapsed.
“The Empire does need you!” Doctor Sun raged.
“But you never listen to your doctor! I said strict bed rest!” He stood up, panting, and made an effort to straighten his ragged coat. “—And I meant it!”
Aboard the great airship Castle Wulfenbach, Boris Vasily Konstantin Andrei Myshkin Dolokhov stood in the Empire’s war room and listened to a report of the events at the Great Hospital. He sighed and used two of his four hands to clean his glasses. Another ran through his hair. Being the Baron’s second-in-command was never easy, but today… Today, he desperately wished that his free hand held a tall glass of vodka. Preferably some of that stuff that the fuel chemists in engineering brewed up—the kind that tended to spontaneously ignite when exposed to strong sunlight.
“I should have known he’d pull something like that,” he muttered. He glanced at Dr. Merrliwee, the head physician on board the Castle. “And now?”
“Dr. Sun has placed him in an armored, high-pressure healing engine.”
Boris winced. Healing engines were effective, but that efficiency came at a painful price. He tried to imagine what a full-body engine would feel like, and then wished he hadn’t. He took a deep breath.
“It’s what should have been done to begin with,” he conceded. “But it’s dangerous and now he’ll be incommunicado.”
The thought flashed through Boris’ mind, I’ll have to run his адский Empire for him—again.88
Out of the crowd of assorted military officers that swarmed around Boris, the Master of the Ætheric Vapor Squad cleared his throat. His voice rang hollowly from within his refrigerated suit. “Sir, the deadline for the destruction of Castle Heterodyne is approaching…”
Boris glared at him. “Is Master Gilgamesh still in there?”
The Master’s eyes could be seen to roll. “…Yes.”
“Then you will hold off! I will not be the one who kills the Baron’s heir! Next?”
A Captain dressed in the white leather outfit of the Empire’s Intelligence Offices stepped up. “We’re getting reports of rioting all across the Empire.” She picked up a pointer and strode over to a hanging map of Europa. She flicked the pointer across the map, tapping delicately several times, and each place it touched, a soft red light glowed. “These areas are reporting outright revolts.”
Boris frowned. “I’d expect that, what with the news about the Baron being in the hospital. But…”
The Intelligence Officer nodded. “Yes. But this is…too quick. Too coordinated.” She slapped the pointer across her palm. “We’re looking into it.”
Boris nodded.
There was a sudden disruption at the doorway, and a crowd cleared to allow a Jägermonster officer to saunter in. “Hey dere, Meester Boris bug man,” he called out cheerfully.
“Oh, this is all I need,” Boris said under his breath. He paused. “Wait a minute…” He began flipping through the papers before him. “What are you even doing here? All of the Jägers are supposed to be up North.”
The Jäger carefully collected and straightened a stack of paperwork, then sat on it. “Heh. Yez, vell, sveethot, ve gots a message for hyu.” He smiled at Boris. “Ve quit.”
Agatha tightened the last connection and threw a switch. There was a brief shower of sparks, and the bank of machinery before her shuddered back to life as, deep within, tubes began to glow. She nodded in satisfaction, leaned back on her heels, and looked up. “How are Gil and Tarvek doing?” she called out.
“Not well at all, my lady.” Violetta sounded worried. Agatha hurried over to where both men lay stretched out upon the floor, their skins a ruddy reddish orange. “They just collapsed,” Violetta said, “and their fevers have gone up. It’s really bad!”
Fraulein Snaug waved a wrench to catch Agatha’s attention. “But they did keep going until they finished their work,” she said approvingly.
Worried as she was, Agatha had to admire the woman’s grasp of priorities.
“That’s good, I suppose.” Agatha raised her voice. “Herr von Zinzer? Do you see anything?”
Von Zinzer gripped his broom handle a bit more tightly. He sat perched upon the edge of the hole in the floor, watching. “Whatever is down there is keeping quiet now. I heard some clanking and saw a big green flash of light about an hour ago. Nothing since then.” He peered back down. “Still, I really think we should hurry, you know?”
Agatha knew. Suddenly, there was a shout of triumph. Professor Mezzasalma clattered over, a pleased look on his face. “I have successfully finished splicing the power connectors!” he announced. “I predict that hardly any of them will explode!”
Agatha nodded. “I’ll take that. Violetta, wind up the dynamos.” She turned back. “Professor, you haul Gil and Tarvek into place, and Snaug, you help me get myself connected to the system.” A sudden wave of dizziness caused her to sway and her skin shifted towards a d
eeper shade of purple. Mezzasalma winced and stepped forward in concern. Agatha held up a preemptory hand. “I’ll make it, let’s get this done!”
Agatha removed her outer garments and Snaug began to buckle her into a device-encrusted harness. “Are you sure about this, my lady? You’re taking such a terrible risk.” She paused as she tightened a strap and meticulously set the buckle. “I mean, being an assistant, I’m kind of used to it being me who gets hooked up to things…”
Agatha adjusted herself to ease a bit of pinching. “I don’t see that I have much choice,” she said frankly. She glanced over to the array where, with a casual display of strength, Professor Mezzasalma was tossing Tarvek onto a metal slab. Tarvek’s head bounced slightly as he landed, and Agatha winced. “Besides, the one taking the biggest risk is Gil. He wasn’t even infected when we started this.”
Snaug nodded glumly. “True, but now…well, he’s so sick…Do you think he’ll be strong enough to pull you both through full resurrections?”
Agatha adjusted her shoulder straps. “I really don’t know,” she finally admitted.
Behind her, Professor Mezzasalma cleared his throat. “Prince Wulfenbach and Prince Sturmvarous are in position. The connections are made and will probably hold. All we are waiting for is you, my lady.” He glanced in her direction, blushed, and looked away. “Are you all right?”
Agatha glanced down and saw her skin color shift to a bright cyan. “Well, no, Professor, I’m not.”
Mezzasalma looked flustered. “Yes, of course…I knew that…”
Fraulein Snaug slid her wrench back into one of her belt loops. “I’m finished,” she announced. “I’m hooking you into the circuit—” She flipped a switch. “Now.”
Suddenly, Agatha pitched forward. “They’re sicker than I thought,” she groaned. With effort, she straightened up. “We’ll start with Tarvek,” she muttered.
Snaug looked alarmed. “Weren’t we going to do you all at the same time?”